LIBRARY
OF THK
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA.
Class
WILLIAM BODHAM DONNE
AND HIS FRIENDS
WILLIAM BODHAM DONNE
ABOUT i860
WILLIAM BODHAM DONNE
AND HIS FRIENDS
EDITED BY
CATHARINE B. JOHNSON
WITH SIXTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS
METHUEN & CO.
36 ESSEX STREET W.C.
LONDON
First Published in 1905
N
PREFACE
IN the following pages the Editor has made no attempt to
write a Biography of William Bodham Donne, but only
so to select the letters that they may give a connected idea of
the events of his life, and illustrate his character.
Only half of the correspondence submitted to her has been
used by the Editor, and she desires to acknowledge most grate-
fully the kind way in which Mr. Donne's family have helped
her in the matter.
Her thanks are also due (1) to His Majesty the King for his
gracious permission to publish the letter written by command
of Queen Victoria on W. B. Donne's retirement from the
Censorship of Plays, 5th August, 1874; (2) to the Editor of
The Academy and Literature for permission to reproduce the
statistics relative to the London Library which appeared in
the issues of 24th January, 1903, and 13th June, 1903 ; (3)
to Miss Trench, and Messrs. Kegan Paul & Trench for leave
to print letters of W. B. Donne which have already appeared
in Archbishop Trench's Life and Memorials ', and to reproduce
his portrait by Samuel Laurence; (4) to Miss Kerrich and
W. Aldis Wright, Esq., for permission to use the letters of Edward
FitzGerald to W. B. Donne and his family, not hitherto
published, and to Messrs. Macmillan for leave to reproduce the
portrait of Edward FitzGerald and Mrs. F. Kemble ; (5) to Miss
Blakesley for the collection of letters to and from her father, the
Dean of Lincoln, and to Messrs. Bassano for leave to use the
photograph of the same ; (6) to Mrs. Wister (daughter of Mrs.
213168
vi PREFACE
Fanny Kemble) and her son, for most generously sending her
" typed " copies of the letters of W. B. Donne to Mrs. Kemble ;
(7) to Mr. Charles Williams for putting at her disposal the cor-
respondence relative to the " Miniature " of Dr. William Donne ;
(8) to Sir Henry Lennard for leave to publish a letter of Arthur
Hallam to W. B. Donne; and (9) 1 to the Rev. J. Barton for
permission to print the letters of Bernard Barton.
The Editor wishes also to acknowledge her great indebted-
ness to Miss E. M. Symonds (George Paston) for her unvarying
help and encouragement.
1 Rev. Joseph Barton died 5th February, 1905, while this was in the Press.
INTRODUCTION
THE name of my grandfather William Bodham Donne is
practically unknown to the present generation ; yet his
letters should not fail to be interesting to those to whom the
names of Edward FitzGerald, Archbishop Trench and Mrs.
Fanny Kemble are as household words, since he was the intimate
friend of all three. Of an extremely modest and retiring
disposition, W. B. Donne was one of those men who are best
made known by their friendships.
Like his cousin the poet Cowper, he possessed the power of
fascinating all those who came within his reach. As Dean
Blakesley once said of him : " Many men are liked^ but Donne is
loved ". Mrs. Fanny Kemble in her Records of Later Life thus
speaks of him: "William Bodham Donne, my brother John's
school and college mate, for more than fifty years of this
changeful life the unchanged, dear and devoted friend of me
and mine accomplished scholar, elegant writer, man of exquisite
and refined taste, such a gentleman that my sister (Mrs.
Sartoris) always said he was the original of the hero in
Boccaccio's story of the Falcon". 1
But although his friends scarcely ever write of him without
some term of endearment, there was nothing effeminate in Mr.
Donne's character. His letters show the keenness of his in-
1 From the Decameron. The story of the poor man, who, when the
wealthy lady whom he loved came to see him in his poverty, killed his pet
falcon, that being the most precious and dainty dish he could set before her.
vii
viii INTRODUCTION
tellect, the soundness of his judgment, his almost unerring
critical faculty and underlying sense of humour. His was the
gentleness of the strong, the sweet disposition of the man who
has his naturally somewhat fiery temper well under control.
Tradition asserts that the Norfolk Donnes came originally
from Wales, and were a branch of the family of Dwns of Picton
and Cwdweli Castles, Pembrokeshire. George Borrow told Mr.
Donne that he believed the name to be the same as D'Uan, and
the root identical with that of Evans and Hughes. A branch
of the family settled in Norfolk in very early times. As far
back as 1321 a David Donne owned property at Rougham, and
among the ranks of the clergy of Norfolk in the fourteenth and
fifteenth centuries are many members of the same family. In a
pedigree granted by the College of Arms in 1792 to the poet
Cowper, whose mother was a Norfolk Donne, the first record of
the family runs thus : " Roger Donne of Ludham, Norfolk, Gent.,
born 17th April, 1675, died 9th Nov., 1722, son of William
Donne of Letheringsett, Norfolk, born 1645, died 1684, supposed
to be descended from Dr. Donne the Dean of St. Paul's ".
It is curious how persistently the tradition holds good in the
family that the Poet Dean was an ancestor, and Cowper himself
calls him "our forefather Donne". It is true that the good
Dean died in 1631, only fourteen years before the birth of the
above William Donne, in whose family the tradition has been
handed down, but the claim cannot actually be proved.
Dr. Jessopp, on the other hand, asserts the contrary. In his
Life of Dr. Donne (1897, p. 225, Appendix B.) he says: "My
belief is that neither of Dr. Donne's sons had any male off-
spring. It is hardly conceivable that if at the end of the
seventeenth century any descendants of the Dean entitled to
perpetuate his illustrious name had been still living, the fact
should have remained undiscovered down to our own time. "
The above Roger Donne of Ludham had two children, a
daughter Anne (who became the mother of the poet Cowper by
her marriage with the Rev. John Cowper, D.D.) and a son
INTRODUCTION ix
Roger (\V. H. Donne's greatgrandfather), who became Rector
of Catfield, Norfolk, 17iW.
Roger Donne seems to have been a man greatly beloved by
his family, and Cowper speaks in some of his letters of the
happy days spent in his uncle's Rectory at Catfield. Writing to
Roger Donne's daughter Anne (Mrs. Bodham) from Weston,
27th February, 1790, he says :
"There is in me, I believe, more of the Donne than of
the Cowper, and, though I love all of both names, and have
a thousand reasons to love those of my own name, yet I feel
the bond of nature draw me vehemently to your side. I was
thought, in the days of my childhood, much to resemble my
mother ; and in my natural temper, of which, at the age of fifty-
eight, I must be supposed to be a competent judge, can trace
both her and my late uncle, your father (Roger Donne). Some-
what of his irritability ; and a little, I would hope, both of his
and of her - - I know not what to call it, without seeming to
praise myself which is not my intention but, speaking to you,
I will even speak out, and say g-ood-nature. Add to all this, I
deal much in poetry, as did our venerable ancestor, the Dean of
St. Paul's, and I think I shall have proved myself a Donne at all
points," and after sending his love to his other cousins, he says :
" Neither do I at all forget my cousin, Harriet. She and I
have been many a time merry at Catfield, and have made the
Parsonage ring with laughter. Give my love to her."
Mrs. Roger Donne must have been, as her letters prove, a
sprightly lady, with a keen sense of humour. She was the
daughter of the Rev. Peter Rival, "French Chaplain to His
Majesty ". After her husband's death, Mrs. Donne's mother
married a Spaniard of the name of Castres, and their son,
Abraham Castres, was Envoy Extraordinary at Lisbon at the
time of the great earthquake (1755), and for his services at that
time the people of Lisbon presented him with a portrait l of him-
self.
1 For a mention of this picture, which was left to his half sister, Mrs. Roger
Donne, vide the letter dated ist June, 1840, to Bernard Barton.
x INTRODUCTION
Roger Donne's son, Castres, the maternal grandfather of
W. B. Donne, was Vicar of Loddon, Norfolk, and Chaplain to Lord
Camerford. He died young, leaving, besides other children, a
daughter, Anne Vertue, who was brought up by her aunt, Mrs.
Bodham. In 1803 Anne Vertue Donne married her cousin
Edward Charles Donne, and William Bodham was the only
child of this marriage.
Mrs. Bodham is worthy of mention as one of the poet
Cowper's correspondents, and the lady who presented him with
his " Mother's Picture," to which gift we owe the touching
poem beginning, " Oh that those lips had language ". It may
be well to say here that this picture, being returned to Mrs.
Bodham on the poet's death, rame through her adopted
daughter into the Donne family, and is still in their possession.
What little store W. B. Donne set by his ancestors will be
seen later, vide the letter written to Bernard Barton, 29th
September, 1839.
W. B. Donne's grandfather, on his father's side, William
Donne, was a well-known surgeon in Norwich, noted for the
number and success of his operations. He was a dapper little
man, neat and particular as to his appearance, with beautifully
shaped hands, of which he was very proud. As an instance of
his fastidious habits, it is said that he required his medical pupils
to furnish his desk with new quill pens every morning. When
he married, the Norwich Mercury announced it thus : " 26th
May, 1759, married last week Mr. William Donne, Surgeon, to
Miss Barnwell ; an agreeable lady, with a handsome fortune ".
In February, 1763, Mr. William Donne was admitted to the
freedom of the City of Norwich. A miniature of this grand-
father was presented by W. B. Donne to the Norfolk and Nor-
wich Hospital on 10th September, 1845. Many years after, this
same miniature was found in a drawer by Mr. Charles Williams,
one of the surgeons at the hospital, but the likeness was almost
obliterated. He took immense pains to get a copy reproduced
from other paintings in the family, and in 1890 presented a
DR. WILLIAM DONNE
INTRODUCTION xi
charming little oil painting to the hospital, with the following
letter, dated 6th September, 1890 :-
" Sir,
* l I am desired to present to the hospital a por-
trait of Mr. William Donne, who was one of the first surgeons
appointed to the hospital in 1771. He held this position for
thirty-two years. Mr. Donne performed the first operation for
stone in this building, and operated on forty out of the first fifty
cases admitted in all, he operated on 172 patients for that dis-
order, a number not yet exceeded by any of his successors. Sir
Astley Cooper once stated that when a boy he saw Mr. Donne
operate at the Norwich Hospital, and this incident gave him the
first desire to become a surgeon.
" I am, Sir,
" Your obedient Servant,
" CHARLES WILLIAMS."
Edward Charles Donne, the son of the above William Donne,
and father of W. B. Donne, was born in 1777. He was an
M.B., and a Fellow of Gonville and Caius College, Cambridge.
For some years he followed his father's profession in Norwich,
but, owing to ill-health, he retired young. As we have seen, he
married his cousin, Anne Vertue Donne, and settled down for
the rest of his life at South Green House, Mattishall, a property
in Norfolk, which belonged to Mrs. Bodham, and which she
afterwards left to his wife. It is said that Edward Charles
Donne might have sat for the original of old Mr. Caxton in
Bulwer-Lytton's novel of that name, even to his tame duck, and
also in the fact of his always being engaged in writing a book
which never was published. He was a man of considerable
literary instincts and conversational powers, kindly, generous,
unselfish and unworldly. Indeed, both parents possessed abilities
above the average. From his mother W. B. Donne inherited
his marked individuality and keen sense of humour, his intensely
chivalrous nature and tenderness of heart. The only child of
xii INTRODUCTION
Mr. and Mrs. Edward Donne William Bodham Donne was
born at Mattishall, 29th July, 1807. There is little to recall of
his early years. At the age of seven he was sent to the Gram-
mar School at Hingham, a few miles from his home, but schools
were in those days rough places for delicate boys, and after a
bad attack of bronchitis, brought on from exposure, his parents
had to remove him. W. B. Donne remained at Mattishall for
the next five years, but after his father's death, in 1819, he was
sent to the Edward VI. Grammar School, at Bury St. Edmund's.
Here he boarded with one of the Masters, the Rev. J. Shore, the
father of Arabella and Louisa Shore, whose poems have lately
been republished. The Head Master of the Grammar School
at this time was Dr. Benjamin Heath Malkin, a remarkable
man, and an excellent scholar, and under him W. B. Donne laid
the foundation of the sound classical knowledge which dis-
tinguished him in after life. Among his schoolfellows were,
besides the sons of the Head Master, the Romillys, John
Mitchell Kemble, James Spedding, Edward FitzGerald, and
many others who afterwards made their mark in the world.
Several of these went up to Cambridge with Donne in 1826.
But between school and college W. B. Donne seems to have
read with a tutor, the Rev. - - Williams, of Thornham, near
Bury. This Mr. Williams was a friend of Charles Lamb, and,
indeed, it was at his house that Emma Isola (Lamb's adopted
daughter) was once taken very ill. When she was recovered
sufficiently to travel, Lamb came to fetch her back to Enfield,
and it was on this occasion that he made the celebrated speech
when asked by a fellow-passenger as to the prospects of the
turnip crop, that he believed it depended "on the number of
the boiled legs of mutton ".
Charles Lamb once expressed his desire to see W. B. Donne,
and left a message for him with Mr. Williams to that effect,
but for some reason or .-mother the meeting never took place.
Mr. Donne was a devoted admirer of Charles Lamb, as will be
seen in the correspondence, and always regretted that he never
INTRODUCTION xiii
him. When lit* left Thornhum William Donne went to
Cambridge, and entered at Gonville and Caius College, the
college of his forefathers. He speedily became popular among
the reading men of his day, both on account of his ability and
of his ready wit. A good example of the latter, which belongs,
however, to some years later, may be given here. It is mentioned
in Sadler's Life of Crabb Robinson. Mr. Donne was invited to
dine at Trinity College, and during dinner a discussion took
place as to what to call a handsome snuff-box which had
recently been presented to Trinity College. Some one turned to
him and said, "Donne, what would you call it?" "Well," he
said, " taking into consideration the name of the college, I should
call it Qui cunque Vult ' ".
It was about 1824-27 that the " Apostles " l Club was formed,
called so from the original number of members having been
twelve. It included such names as Monckton Milnes (Lord
Houghton), James Spedding, John Sterling, G. Venables,
Richard Chenevix Trench, J. W. Blakesley, John Mitchell
Kemble, W. B. Donne, F. D. Maurice, J. Sunderland, Charles
Buller and Spencer Walpole, and a little later Arthur Hallam,
Alfred Tennyson, Charles Merivale, W. H. Thompson, H.
Alford joined.
These young men, and others who from time to time were
admitted among " the Apostles," agreed, on leaving Cambridge,
to dine together once a year. This gathering is referred to
many times in Mr. Donne's letters, and more than once he was
their Chairman.
On leaving the University W. B. Donne went back to
Mattishall, where his mother still lived, and, I am told, devoted
himself to regular and methodical study. He made himself master
of the finer English Literature, more especially of the drama, and
no doubt his intimacy with the Kemble family led him to interest
himself more particularly in that branch of reading. He was
also a fine classical scholar and well versed in classical history
1 Its own and proper name was " The Cambridge Conversazione Club ".
xiv INTRODUCTION
and antiquities. He left the University without taking his
degree, having conscientious objections to signing the XXXIX
Articles, and although, as will be seen, he tried to remedy this
a year or two later, to his great regret it was never accomplished.
It is at this time that Mr. Donne's correspondence begins,
and no further introduction is therefore necessary.
CATHARINE B. JOHNSON
WELBORNE,
E. DEREHAM,
March, 1905
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
WILLIAM BODHAM DONNE Frontispiece
Taken about 1860, from a Photograph by Maull & Polyblank, Lon-
don.
Facing page
DR. WILLIAM DONNE xi
From the Portrait by Mrs. Brewer at the Norfolk and Norwich
Hospital, by permission of the Governors.
MRS. FANNY KEMBLE [1830] 4
From the Lithograph of the Portrait by Sir Thomas Lawrence
in the possession of Mrs. Barham Johnson, by permission of
the Honourable Mrs. Leigh.
JOHN MITCHELL KEMBLE 27
From a Drawing by Saville Morton.
ABRAHAM CASTRES (Envoy Extraordinary at the Court of Lisbon at the
time of the Great Earthquake, 1755) 61
From a Portrait in the possession of Rev. C. E. Donne.
RICHARD CHENEVIX TRENCH 70
Crayon by Samuel Laurence, from the Lithograph in the possession
of Rev. C. E. Donne, by permission of Miss Trench.
MRS. BODHAM (ANNE DONNE) 102
From the Portrait by Abbott (1792) in the possession of W. Mow-
bray Donne.
ADMIRAL BODHAM [1666] 122
From the Portrait in the possession of Rev. C. E. Donne.
BERNARD BARTON 138
By Samuel Laurence, from an Engraving, by permission of Rev.
John Barton.
MRS. HEWITT (CATHARINE JOHNSON) 144
From the Portrait by Abbott in possession of Rev. C. E. Donne.
xvi LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Facing page
SOUTH GREEN HOUSE, MATTISHALL 179
From a Photograph by Wilkinson, Norwich.
EDWARD FITZGERALD 223
From an Engraving, by permission of Miss Kerrich, Prof. W.
Aldis Wright and Macmillan & Co.
" THE CENSOR'S DREAM " 247
Drawn by Alfred Thompson. A Cartoon which appeared in an
Illustrated Paper.
J. W. BLAKESLEY (DEAN OF LINCOLN) 282
By permission of Miss Blakesley. Photograph Copyright by
Bassano, London.
"AUT C^SAR AUT NULLUS" 2Q5
Caricatures of W. B. Donne and Spencer Ponsonby (the Censor of
Plays and his Chief). A Cartoon which appeared in an Illus-
trated Paper.
WILLIAM BODHAM DONNE 338
From Photograph by Window & Grove
WILLIAM BODHAM DONNE
John Mitchell Kemble l to W. B. Donne 2
CAMBRIDGE
JAN. 13, [1829]
MY DEAR WILLIAM,
Your determination has been a matter of great
concern to your friends here, as it involves the certainty that
many of them have parted from you for a long period perhaps
for ever ; no trifling or easily supported sorrow, when mutual
respect and admiration have been the basis of a friendship which
longer conversation would have matured and which even in its
infancy has been the source of so much profit and happiness.
To me your premature retirement from among us does not
present so uncheering an appearance. We at least shall meet
again. I shewed your letter both to Trench and Blakesley.
From the first I have no concealments, and will you let me con-
fess it, I thought your letter too honourable to yourself, too
characteristic of your own excellent and manly spirit, to deny
1 John Mitchell Kemble, son of Charles Kemble, was born 1807, educated
Bury St. Edmund's Grammar School ; Trinity College, Cambridge. Studied in
Germany under the brothers Grimm, devoting himself to archaeological and philo-
logical research. Author of Beowulf (1832), The Traveller's Song, Review on
jfdkel, Codex Diplomaticus ovi Saxonici, Saxons in England (1849). Editor of
British and Foreign Review, 1835-1844. Succeeded his father as Examiner of
Plays, 1840. Died 26th March, 1857. A bust of him is in the Library of Trinity
College, Cambridge.
2 As the letters of J. M. Kemble, Mrs. Fanny Kemble, and Edward Fitz-
Gerald, scarcely ever record the date of the year, I have only been able to place
them approximately. ED.
1
2 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
myself the gratification of imparting to the second some of the
admiration which I felt for you.
I shall feel the distance between us immeasurably lessened if
you will vouchsafe now and then a letter to
Y r . most affectionate friend
J. M. KEMBLE
J. M. Kemble to W. B. Donne
WEYBRIDGE
AUG. 25, 1829
MY DEAR FRIEND,
I have used you I fear but scurvily in not writing
a syllable to you during all this long period of separation.
However all the stuff which at present lies jumbled topsy-turvy
in my lumber closet of a head, shall be yours, a bon marche, viz.,
the price of postage.
What comes first ? Edmund Kean very true ; my Father
has engaged him for Covent Garden next season, and with him
and Young, my Governor ought to be able to make somewhat
of a show.
You know perhaps that my Father is coming to play for a
few nights at Norwich ; I know not if the time will suit me, or
I would come down with him and have an opportunity of seeing
you.
The Theatres being shut I have little Theatrical Intelligence
for you : Boaden has written a Life of my Aunt Mrs. Siddons,
for which I sincerely wish I had an opportunity of kicking him :
upon my honour. I am just as well qualified to write the
Life of the Khan of Tartary, or Prester John. Does it not
strike you as something abominable that such a fellow should
perfectly unauthorized sit down, to scribble on a subject of all
others the most ticklish, when in addition to the drawback of
knowing nothing whatever of his hero, he adds that of knowing
very little more of his own language ?
You left Cambridge before the Declamations came out : you
will therefore be glad to hear that I am one of them. As
J. M. KEMBLE 3
follows: 1st Kemble 2nd Airy 3rd Chatfield. Who in the
name of wonder would have thought of seeing Airy in possession
of a prize for English composition.
Y'. affect, friend
J. M. KEMBLE
[William Airy, brother of the Astronomer Royal, was a
school-fellow of Kemble, Donne, and Edward FitzGerald, at
Bury; afterwards Vicar of Keysoe.]
Before going to Spain Trench had stayed at Mattishall, and
had been much struck with W. B. Donne's mother and Aunt
" Bodham " with their " gentle voices that are musical ".
The following lines were sent to W. B. Donne by Trench
in a letter dated "Escorial, Oct. 18, 1829" (see Trench's
Memorials, vol. i., p. 36) :
To W. B. Donne
Like Merlin or some gentler wizard, I,
By the most potent rod of memory,
Now conjure up your form. Before you lies
Some antique volume, learned, quaint, and wise
Browne, or Montaigne, with hidden meaning good,
And riddles worthy to be understood.
Hard nuts, but with rich kernels, such as grow
But rarely on the tree of Knowledge now.
For ours is the late Autumn of old Time ;
The tree is sapless, and has past its prime,
And we pick up blind windfalls. Or, again,
You are beholding o'er the grassy plain
The West, that is o'erflown with golden streams
Of sunlight and the occidental beams,
Which pierce like shafts of fire the burning clouds
That lie beneath, while others, like the shrouds
Or biers of their dead selves, are borne away,
Emptied of light and glory from the day.
Or, better still, you listen to the fall
Of gentle voices that are musical,
Because the music of all gentle thought
Attunes them there. Thus wisely you have wrought.
These are the triple fountains, whence doth flow
All that is beautiful below.
At the end of 1829 Donne went to London to be introduced
to the Kemble family. It was during this visit that John
4 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
Sterling, 1 who was editor of the Athenceum, persuaded William
Donne to send him something for that paper, and he accordingly
wrote four articles which appeared under the heading of " Shades
of the Dead": (1) Sir Thomas Browne (25th Aug., 1829); (2)
Montaigne (x.); (3) Burton (viii.); (4) the Hebrew Prophets,
and with these Donne made his debut in print. Trench says of
the article on Sir Thomas Browne in a letter to Kemble (see
Trench's Memorials, vol. i., p. 46), " You have probably seen
his (Donne's) articles on the humorists. I have seen but one
on Sir Thomas Browne. It is wonderful. I did not dream that
he possessed such power. Admiring as I always did, his genial
criticism and perception of Beauty, which I believed was un-
erring, which in him seemed more an instinct than anything
more artificial, I yet believed his mind was rather for the
interpretation than creation of Beauty. I joyfully recant my
heresy."
In a letter to Trench W. B. Donne gives his impressions of
the Kembles and of Miss Fanny Kemble, who had nobly come
to the rescue of her family and was then making her first ap-
pearance in public.
DEC., 1829
MY DEAR TRENCH,
What an enchanting family is Kembles' ! Mr.
Charles Kemble was absent much to my sorrow all the time of
my visit, but I left Mrs. Kemble with no common feelings ot
regret. I never met with any one whose education and circum-
stances have been necessarily artificial with so young a heart,
and such birth-freshness of feeling and thought. I think too
that his sister (Fanny) is his sister by more ties of affinity and
worthiness than birth and parentage.
Miss Kemble's "Juliet " creates such sensation in London that
Drury Lane, I understand, is saved from emptiness, and blank
cheques, by the over-flowing of Covent Garden.
1 John Sterling born 2Oth July, 1806, educated Glasgow ; Trinity College,
Cambridge, 1824; Trinity Hall, 1825-1827. Editor of Athcn&um. Ordained
Deacon, 1834, and Curate to Very Rev. Julius Hare, Archdeacon of Sussex,
Rector of Hurtsmonceaux. The friend of Carlyle, who wrote his life, as also did
Archdeacon Hare. Author ot Arthur Coningsby (1833), Poems (1839), Strafford
(1843). Founder of Sterling Club, 1838. Died at Ventnor i8th September, 1844.
FANNY KEMBLE
1830
J. M. KEMBLE 5
In another letter to Trench, dated 29th April, 1830, speak-
ing on the same subject, Mr. Donne says:
The audiences are liberal in their applause and the press
runs over with it, yet neither one nor the other, to my feeling,
have solved the problem of her genius, viz. 9 her ideality of im-
personation. I hope we may one day sit side by side in Covent
Garden and we will talk the matter over.
Then he goes on to say :
Did you know Charles Tennyson at Cambridge ? He has
published a little volume of sonnets of great beauty. 1 His
imagination is of the right mould a strong graft on Words-
worth and a fine outgrowth of healthy feeling; but he wants
your fine moral sensibility to the force and integrity of single
words. Kemble has been keeping terms at Cambridge. He
wrote me a most affectionate letter to explain his sudden resolu-
tion of taking Orders, and his present studies and feelings with
them in prospect. He will be a bright and burning light in
God's Church.
My Mother desires her best remembrances.
Y r . very affect te . friend
W. B. DOXNK
We may mention that the sonnet to " J. M. K.," published
in Lord Tennyson's Works, is addressed to John Mitchell Kemble,
and was written at this time. He, however, never took Holy
Orders, devoting himself instead to the study of the Law, and
becoming later entirely engrossed with Anglo-Saxon and Phil-
ology.
CAMBRIDGE, 1830
MY DEAR WILLIAM,
We have been acting here most " vylanislie yll ".
Conceive a party of large and logger-headed fellow-commoners
playing " Much Ado About Nothing ". Conceive Milnes doing
the elegant and high-minded Beatrice like a languishing trull ;
also if you can, conceive Hal lam and myself setting our faces
and taming our eyes into stupidity that we might present some
1 Sonnets by Charles Tennyson, published by Bridges, Market Hill, Cam-
bridge, 1830.
6 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
distant resemblance of Verges and Dogberry ? I can assure you
that if laughing be a criterion, no company ever did better, for
from first to last, especially during the tragic scenes, the audience
were in a roar. Milnes' Epilogue of which I keep you a copy was
however very clever.
I am compelled by the late hours of the night and somewhat
of weariness also to close my epistle here, for my head goes some-
thing like an ill-regulated pendulum, or a french Metaphysician,
now a nod then a bob, then the sense of an oscillation that's not
quite right, then a start that makes wrong ten times more
wrong.
Yr. affect, friend
J. M. KEMBLE
Another friend described those same theatricals. " Milnes l
was manager of the concern," he says, " and in proprid persond
(credite posteri /) played Beatrice ! Thirl wall I verily expected
would have died with most wicked laughter when Beatrice lilted
up her veil, had he not laughed again and cured himself homoeo-
pathetically (if you cannot read you must spell). Kemble was
Dogberry, and Hallam 2 took Verges ; all three acted extremely
well, but Kemble excellently except that he enjoved it rather
too much himself. An Epilogue by Milnes (extremely good) was
tacked on."
The year 1880 brought with it great anxiety to W. B.
Donne, for his two friends Trench 3 and Kemble had joined the
unfortunate expedition to Spain under General Torrijos and
nothing was heard of them for many months.
General Torrijos, a man of high honour and integrity, was
one of several Spaniards who left their native land when the
king set up a Despotic Government. They persuaded them-
selves that the country was ripe for a revolution, and that
thousands would join them if they could only effect a landing
on Spanish soil. They imagined themselves marching in triumph
1 Richard Monckton Milnes, first Baron Houghton, 1809-1885. Assisted in
the preparation of the Tribune, 1836 ; President of the London Library, 1882-
1885.
a Arthur Hallam, 1811-1833, elder son of Henry Hallam, educated Trinity
College, Cambridge, where he met the Tennysons. Died suddenly at Vienna,
1833. Buried at Clevedon. His Remains published 1834.
3 Richard Chenevix Trench, afterwards Dean of Westminster, Archbishop of
Dublin, born 1807, died 1886.
J. M. KEMBLE 7
into Madrid, forcing the king to submit to his Cortes, and
promising from henceforth to rule by Constitutional means.
John Sterling espoused their cause warmly, collected money
from the "Apostles, and induced Trench, Kemble and Robert
Boyd, a young cousin of Trench's, to offer their services. John
Kemble went before them to Gibraltar to organise I lie rising,
and here he waited in anxious expectancy for his friends. They
were long in coming, for their ship had been boarded just on the
eve of starting, and Trench, Torrijos and his Spaniards saved
themselves by jumping overboard. Eventually they arrived
by different routes at Gibraltar, only to find the King of Spain
prepared, the coast guarded, and a price set on the head of
any one of them caught in Spain. Seeing that the cause was
utterly hopeless, Trench and Kemble sorrowfully returned to
England, leaving Robert Boyd, who refused to accompany them,
and the other fifty-five.
The end of the story is a sad one. A Spanish officer pel'-
suaded Torrijos that he had only to land, and thousands were
waiting to join him. The luckless general believed him and
left Gibraltar with Boyd and his fifty-five men. They were
chased and taken prisoners, and all were shot. Neither Trench
nor Kemble could bear to mention the matter afterwards, and
Donne, who knew young Boyd, shared their grief.
But although his men friends were out of reach W. B. Donne
was not without congenial female companionship. His aunt,
Mi*s. Bodham, was not far off at the Cedars, Mattishall, and
his cousin Catharine Hewitt, a niece of Cowper's "Johnny of
Norfolk," a bright, clever, handsome girl, was living with her.
The two cousins had known and loved each other from
childhood, and no one was surprised when they heard of their
marriage on 15th November, 1830. Mrs. Edward Donne gave up
her home at Mattishall to the young couple, and retired to
Norwich. This meant diminution of income to a certain extent,
and as W. B. Donne had no profession but that of a " poor gentle-
man," he turned his attention to writing in earnest and became a
frequent contributor to reviews and journals of the highest
character. A list of articles is added at the end of this volume
which will show the diversity of subjects on which he wrote.
W. B. Donne's style was marked by great acuteness of
thought and refinement of language. How remarkable his power
of just criticism was, is shown by the way his friends sent him
their manuscript and made alterations according to his sugges-
tions. Among others Dean Merivale sent him all the proofs of
his Roman History to revise, and John Kemble the same with
his Saxons in England. Archbishop Trench valued his advice
8 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
greatly, and on more than one occasion asked for information.
In giving it, Donne could not help sometimes "hoaxing" his
friends.
When collecting " Proverbs " for his book Trench asked him
if he could think of any others to give him. " Have you this one,"
said Donne, " ' No fool so big but there's a bigger at his funeral ' ? "
"No," said Trench, and proceeded to write it down, when
something made him look up, and catching the twinkle in his
friend's eye, he taxed him with inventing that " Proverb," which
Donne could not deny.
Trench and Kemble returned from Spain in 1831 and both
visited Mattishall ; but few letters are preserved. One there is
from Arthur Hallam, who was still at Cambridge.
Arthur Hallam to W. B. Donne
JAN. agTH, 1831
MY DEAR DONNE,
Your brace of kind letters should have been
answered long ere this, had I not been labouring under the
horrors of graduation. As an incepting Bachelor I can now
thank you at my ease, and with all the increased dignity imputed
by the benediction of a Vice Chancellor, and the commendation
of the Father of the College. It gives me great pleasure that
you should find anything to like in the very hasty compositions
I sent you. They are, I fear, full of errors of language, and contain
a few in substance, which I might have corrected, had I not just
then been obliged to stand upon my ps and qs. If you have
flattered me in the good opinion you express I shall punish you
as Authors usually do by the "Cras altera mittam".
Towards the end of the year I may have ready for the Public
(alas ! most incurious of such things !) a translation of Dante's
Vita Nuova, prefaced by some biographical chatter, and wound up
by some philosophical balderdash about poetry, and morality,
and metre and everything. If in the interim you have any
views on any of these subjects, which you can charitably spare,
suggestions will be thankfully received. I am about to become
a nominal student of law, but unless ministers think fit to
pull down the national credit along with their imbecile selves,
I have not much thought of practising. The life I have
A. H. HALLAM 9
always desired is the very one you seem to be leading, a
wife and a library what more can man, being rational, re-
quire, unless it be a cigar? I am not however without my
fears that the season for such luxuries is gone or going by : in
the tempests of the days that are coming, it may be smoking,
and wiving, and reading will be affairs of anxiety and apprehen-
sion.
Trench considers a man, who reads Cicero or Bacon now-
adays, much as he would a man who goes to sleep on the ledge
of a mad torrent, and dreams of a garden of cucumbers. I am
very glad he visited you at Cromer : it seems to have done both
your hearts good ; as for him, he was delighted with all about
you. He is now deep in Types, but has hardly attained much
composition : I fear the subject may run away with him ; it is
one which of all others requires judgement to restrain, and method
to regulate. Nevertheless there is a re-active force in Trench
which will not let him go far in error. I cherish the hope that
he may do great and glorious service to the Truth in this its
extreme agony. He tells me he has awakened you to some
alarm concerning the St. Simonians those prophets of a false
Future, to be built on the annihilation of the Past in the con-
fusion of the Present. I too am alarmed at this gigantic
organisation, and the facility with which France appears to
imbibe the poison, but I cannot but confide yet in English good
sense that it will repel them from these shores with indignant
scorn. Should it be otherwise, better will it be for Chorazin
and Bethsaida in the day of judgement than for us. The
mission is come however and according to their instructions they
are to call on Sir Francis Burdet and " the chief of the aristo-
cracy," to tell them " that humanity marches " ! Bless their five
wits what incurable fools Frenchmen are !
I hope our correspondence in future may have narrower
gaps ; my address will always be 67 Wimpole Street : are you
never likely to be in the Wen ?
Very sincerely yours
A. H. HALLAM
10 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
J. W. Blakesley 1 to W. B. Donne
TRIN. COLL., CAM.
JULY 2ND, 1832
MY DEAR DONNE,
Since you last heard from me I have been leading
the same kind of life as before, reading, and taking pupils, and
this same life will probably be my lot at Keswick where I sojourn
during the summer. I hope to see a good deal of Southey and
Wordsworth and Chauncey Townshend, who though no very
great man himself has been thrown together with a good number
of eminent ones. He is the author of some articles (three or
four I believe in number) which appeared in Black wood some
time ago upon Wordsworth which articles excited the wroth of
the bard, so much, that he cut the critic ! foolishly in my opinion.
Kemble is in town ; he is reading law five hours a day (or
at least was doing so before Alfred Tennyson came up to town,
for now these five hours are consumed (together with much shag
tobacco) in sweet discourse on Poesy) . . . and besides this he
finds time to write Articles in the Foreign Quarterly and a
book on Anglo-Saxon, without which he says no one can under-
stand English and which he says no one can understand without
understanding the other Teutonic dialects. The two Bullers
are canvassing Liskeard in Cornwall for Charles ; but the
electors are so delighted with both, that they do not know
how to divide them and are quite disgusted with the Reform
bill for only leaving them one Member.
O'Brian and Martineau are here taking their M.A. and
Spedding 2 for the purpose of reciting his Member's Prize Essay.
1 Joseph Wjlliam Blakesley, born 1808, educated Trinity College, Cambridge.
Wrangler and third in Classical Tripos; Senior Chancellor's Medallist, 1831.
Deacon, 1833 ; priest, 1835 ; and after being seven years tutor at Trinity College
became Vicar of Ware, 1845 ; Canon of Canterbury, 1863 ; and Dean of Lincoln,
1872. He died in 1885.
2 James Spedding, born 1808, died from effects of a cab accident in 1881.
Educated at Bury St. Edmund's Grammar School. Hon. Fellow of Trinity
College, Cambridge. He was first joint-editor with iMr. Ellis, and subsequently
sole editor of Bacon's Works and Life ; was also author of Evenings with a
Reviewer; or, Macaulay and Bacon. He is the " J. S." to whom Tennyson
addressed the exquisite poem beginning :
The wind that beats the mountains, blows
More softly round the open wold ;
And gently comes the world to those
That are cast in gentle mould.
J. W. BLAKESLEY 11
Alfred Tennyson is going to bring out another volume of
poems. Thirlwall stays at Cambridge during the Long Vaca-
tion to work at his History of Greece of which I hope to see a
volume or two at Christmas if not before. Tennant is gone
down to Edinburgh to canvass for the Professorship of English
Literature at the High School of that Place. I sincerely hope
he may get it, for he is a man of no fortune and his chance of a
fellowship is I suspect very small.
Y r . sincere friend
J. W. BLAKESLKV
W. B. Donne to J. W. Blakesley
MATTISHALL
JULY 31, 1832
MY DEAR BLAKESLEY,
Your letter was a most welcome one, both as com-
ing from you, and also in containing much information which, if
left to the light of Nature, I might never have attained to.
Indeed one or two of my correspondents, who live wisely
among the wise, imagine that I must needs, by some mystic law
of progression, grow in grace and light as high as themselves ;
and indulge in a vein of hinting and allusion to things familiar
to themselves, of which 7 till then never had an inkling, and in
consequence much wit and some wisdom are lost to me, by being
conveyed covertly.
But your letter especially delighted me because it contained
a brief history of men and things which I most desired to have,
and which in my solitude as respects my Cambridge friends, are
the most delightful and interesting of subjects.
You describe your life as " studious " and " didactic " and
considering you as an exemplary man I would mine were so too,
i.e., " studious ". I hope I am " didactic ". I should be, provided
any one would consign a son or two to my care my ambition
savours like Prince HaPs of small beer, for I desire four or five
pupils, not beyond the age of fourteen years, to bring up in the
fear of God and reverence for the world as it was, and I trust will
one day under some new dispensation again become.
I can hold out no especial praises of myself except that what
12 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
I know I will honestly communicate, and excepting my dear and
respected old Master Dr. Malkin I am confident that I can teach
much better than my own Tutors.
It is become a subject of much anxiety with me to relieve
my Mother of some portion of the expense which I am obliged
to impose upon her in my present circumstances. To the
Church I have no inclination and were I to study for any of
the other professions, I should probably exhaust my income
in preparation and after a few years of study were passed have
no longer any pressing occasion to practise either in law or
physic. Besides the evident inconvenience of breaking up a
mode of life which I deliberately adopted, and have never had
an hour's reason to repent of.
With half a dozen pupils for a few years I could earn an
independent income, continue my own studies, and lay aside the
charge, whenever the necessity for it, shall cease.
I conclude you amalgamate kindly with the great men of
the Lakes : for the presence of an intellectual man, their junior,
and bred up in the faith they teach, must be a cordial and
cheering thing to the veterans, after struggling with popular
noise and strife. Do they bear patting well ? and are they so
wise and good in their own country, as well esteemed out of it ?
I yesterday made the attempt to disturb the repose of
Vipan, 1 and draw from him whether he is in Germany or Eng-
land, whether he is unsphering the spirit of Plato, or uncorking
the spirit of wine ? or in short whether " the young gentleman
according to fates and destinies and such odd sayings, is indeed
deceased, or in plain terms gone to heaven ". He is a complete
silk-worm shrouding himself in a costly mantle of learning which
is of no use to others unless they are at the pains of unravelling
it themselves.
I am, your sincere friend
W. B. DOXM
1 Vipan was one of a family of well-known brewers at Thetford, hence the
allusion to the " uncorking of the spirit of wine ". He was a scholar and friend
of John Kemble, and travelled a good deal in Germany and Hungary. " Vipan "
is frequently mentioned in Donne's correspondence ; always with a certain
amount of good-natured amusement at his devotion to homoeopathy and the
"Wasser-Kur".
J. M. KEMBLE 13
J. M. Kemble to W. B. Donne
[1832]
MY DEAR WILLIAM,
I am engaged at this moment in editing " Beo-
wulf," the oldest, finest, and hardest of the Anglo-Saxon poems ;
and one peculiarly valuable as being the only hero-poem they
have left us, of any length. It is so mythic, that from that and
other circumstances I am inclined to think it must have accom-
panied our forefathers into England. [Here follow several
examples of old Saxon, Anglo-Saxon and old German words,
proving a common origin.]
I think your verses, dear Willie, very beautiful especially the
song, and congratulate both you and myself that you have found
thus a new expression for your good and kindly feelings. The
still voice of the heart is lost now-a-days amid the whirling of
steam looms and the fluff of cotton-spinning jennies, yet it still
speaks articularly to those who will hear it. Read over this
" Love's dirge ".
Love hath perished long ago,
Alas ! and well-away ;
Lay him in the cold ground low
Neath the ice and the crisp snow
And the wintry clay.
Where no earthly violets grow
Where no fresh Spring breezes blow
Peacefully
Let him lie
As the buried may.
When young hearts grew dull and old
Love pined and died
When the warm hand's grasp was cold
And the friend's eye strangely rolled,
What was left beside ?
Lay him in the Wintry mould ;
Few hearts yet his knell have knolled
Soon will they
Faint away,
Lay them by his side.
14 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
3
They were happy in his smile
As roses in fresh showers :
But he is slain by hate and guile,
They will follow ; yet awhile
For a few sad hours
Pilgrims to a holy pile
They have wandered many a mile
Here to shed
O'er his head
All Life's withered flowers !
These were written in Spain, in a sad moment enough.
Alfred Tennyson is about to give the world a volume of
stupendous poems, the lowest toned of which is strung higher
than the highest of his former volumes. He has been in Lon-
don for some time, and a happy time it was ; a happy time and
a holy time, for it is the mighty privilege of such men to spread
their own glory around them, upon all who come within the
circuit of their light, and to exalt and purify them also. We
had a fine reunion of choice spirits of an evening then ; Hallam,
Edward Spedding and his brother, the two Heaths, and Merivale,
the kindest hearted and one of the mildest of scoffers ; and amongst
them Fanny's " Star of Seville " first read. This was well was
it not ?
Hallam and Tennyson, influenced principally I believe by my
descriptions, then went upon the Rhine, whence they are just
returned. Arthur has written a beautiful scene on the subject
of that charming picture of Rafaelle on the Fornarina of which
you must have seen prints.
I rejoice to hear that your young traveller in evil ways
thrives ; by this time, I trow, he has found of what dough the
world is baked, and squalls lustily. Do not begin teaching him
too soon. Method and system belong to the philosophic period
of life ; its beginning should be as vague as the child's own
mysterious curiosity.
There was much wisdom in old Johnson's growl, " How
educate your boy, Sir ? " " Why, turn him by himself into your
library." Yet there is a wider and lovelier library where know-
ledge, the best of it, love and admiration insensibly steal upon
J. M. KEMBLE 15
the spirit ; I mean that great library of God's own collection,
the World. A child loves to hear of birds, and beasts, and trees ;
give yours a dog, if you wish him ever worthy to read Plato ; the
two are noble creations and soon learn to love one another.
Your affect, friend
J. M. KEMBLE
The child referred to in the above letter was John Kemble's
future son-in-law, Charles Edward Donne. He was born 21st
May, 1832, and was the eldest of W. B. Donne's six children.
Archbishop Trench stood as one of his sponsors and wrote a
" Poem to his Godson," published among his Works, beginning,
" No harsh transition Nature knows ".
W. B. Donne was a fond and devoted parent and was always
a prime favourite with children, although, when his fourth child
was born, he wrote to Trench saying
Pray how soon may Papa's begin to calculate the number
of their offspring ? The first is of course mere and unmixed
jubilation. The second is a godsend that the first may not be
a spoilt child so far so good but the third ? I had my doubts
and felt (did you ?) a sort of wryness and constriction at the ends
of my mouth when it amounted to a Holy Alliance ! Moreover
our friends make their congratulations in a lower key, and do
not keep up one's spirits as well as at first. Have any of the
" Apostles " besides myself four children ? as I should like to
confer with him or them as to the proper comportment and frame
of mind upon making up the " parti carree ".
Yr. affect, friend
W. B. DONNE
/. M. Kemble to W. B. Donne
CAMBRIDGE
JUNE 22, 1833
DEAR WILLIE,
I should have thought you knew me well enough
not to imagine that I should leave England without at any rate
letting you know where a letter would find me. I have never
stirred from Granta since I saw you, save to bid my Mother
16 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
good-bye on her leaving England. My abroad-scheme seems for
this year magnificently floored ; I patiently submit to my mis-
fortune and continue my Dictionary.
At the date of this present writing all Cambridge is in a
bustle ; the British Association for the Advancement of Science
(or something or other) meet here on Monday, and the strangest
whelps are parading our streets, that Cantab ever imagined. I
wish to heaven (Pray do not read this part to Catharine) you
could shift the married man off your shoulders for a week and
come over to us ; l I will breakfast and dine you, and bring you
acquainted with all the scientifics I know, who are in fact the
Scientifics of Trinity ; and we will have some magnificent converse
with Hallam and the Tennysons who in all human probability
will be here ; and with Whewell and Thirlwall and Sedgewick,
than whom none better. The fragments I sent you are superb ;
and you are far as I can see quite of my own mind, ergo, quite
right, about Alfred's alterations ; what in the name of all
mischief could he mean by changing in the Lotus Eaters, " Full-
faced above the valley stood the moon " into " Above the valley
burned the golden moon " ? except that some d friend or
other told him that the full moon was never seen while the sun-
set lingered in the West ; which is a lie, for I have seen it in
Spain, and in the Lotos Land too ! Then again what think you
of the " tusked sea-horse " for the " broad-maned sea-horse " ?
Here also some stumpf told him that the Walrus or sea-horse
had no mane ; as if he and you and I do not know very well
that he never meant the Walrus or any such Northern Brute,
but a good mythological, Neptunian charger ! But JElfred
piques himself upon Natural History, for which may a sound
rope's end be his portion.
Y'. affect, friend
J. M. KEMBLE
1 We do not know if William Donne was able to accept the invitation to
Cambridge contained in the foregoing letter from Kemble, nor whether Arthur
Hallam met him there ; if so, it was for the last time, for in a few months the
news came of Hallam's death in Vienna.
Alfred Tennyson, as is well known, was looking forward to Arthur Hallam's
becoming his brother-in-law, and the grief at his friend's untimely death found
expression in that noble poem " In Memoriam ".
R. C. TRENCH 17
W. B. Donne to R. C. Trench
MATTISHALL, E. DEREHAM
OCT. 23, 1833
MY DEAR TRENCH,
Your letter was indeed a severe shock to me. I did
not write in reply, for you were sure of my fellow-feeling with
yourself and with all our friends ; and had the case admitted
of any consolation from without, I had no sources of it in myself,
with which you were not already more fully supplied. I am
anxious to know how the most afflicted at this heavy time bear
themselves, poor Miss Tennyson and Mr. Hallam. I am not aware
whether he has another son, and even so, hardly of equal promise
with him who is taken away. You suppose me to have guessed
at the cause of his death. Was he, then, liable to a determina-
tion of blood to the brain ? Most dearly do I prize a very few
letters written by him, and he had been most kind and courteous
in sending me what he printed. And I had fondly hoped, some
day, to have renewed and increased my brief acquaintance with
him. Hallam had not come to Cambridge until just before
I went away. I have never been there since, and only when
visiting James Sped ding in London in '29 have I ever been in
company with him.
I cannot therefore claim so entire a sorrow as you and others
feel ; yet I am truly sensible of a heavy loss to myself, to our
generation. We must be more earnest workers, since the
labourers are fewer.
Y'. affect, friend
W. B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to R. C. Trench
DEC. 10, 1834
Of our common friends I can tell you nothing. Kemble has
shunned all communication with me since he went to Germany.
I suppose he is so absorbed in etymological bliss with Grimm,
that he can spare no thought for Christians and ordinary men
like myself.
2
18 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
Spedding is in the North and though not "cold friends to
me, what does he in the North" exactly? Yet he is also so
engaged with Wordsworth's company, cigars, and the rudiments
of German that our correspondence takes long naps.
To the Same
FEB., 1835
MY DEAR TRENCH,
Have newspapers or letters recorded the death of
Charles Lamb ? " There's a great spirit gone " a prophet's mantle
not soon to be caught nor lightly worn again. He wrought as
effectually in restoring a large and braver spirit of feeling and of
criticism in England as Wordsworth himself. He should have an
Epitaph over him like " O rare Ben Jonson " ; common epicedia
will not suffice ; and who shall write his life and limn his spiritual
lineaments ?
Y'. affect 1 *, friend
W. B. DONNE
Mrs. W. B. Donne, always delicate, was recommended change
of air, and the following letter, also to Trench, explains how
they were able to leave Mattishall. It is written from Cromer.
JUNE IST, 1835
MY DEAR TRENCH,
I am an exile and an outcast Mattishall is " Let "
for nine months to His Majesty's Assistant Commissioner under
the new Poor Law Amendment Act, to that doughty Captain,
the friend and crony of both " the Bears " greater and less, the
great hyperborean, Knight of the North Pole, Sir Edward
Parry. 1 Here is promotion ! pray heaven the Poor wreak their
1 Sir William Edward Parry, 1790-1855, Rear-Admiral and Arctic explorer,
commanded expeditions in search of North- West Passage, 1819, 1820, 1821, 1824,
died, 1855.
When Sir Edward Parry arrived to open negotiations for the "letting" of
Mattishall, he went up to Mrs. Bodham's parrot and spoke to the bird. Polly
looked at him, cocked her head on one side, and said, " Ship ahoy ! my lads ! ship
ahoy! " As the great explorer was not in uniform, it was thought remarkable
that the bird should have recognised him to be a sailor.
R. C. TRENCH 19
vengeance on his person, and not on my bricks and mortar.
And we have taken refuge here to consider and to enquire. I
do not wish to remain in Norfolk, as it would be a poor exchange
from a good house to that which is worse without any compensa-
tion of better society, healthier air or more books.
Y'. affect, friend
W. B. DONNE
After three months at Cromer the Donnes corresponded
with Mr. Trench, with a view to spending some months near
him at Southampton, but, as William Donne wrote on 8th
August, 1835,
MY DEAR TRENCH,
Certainly he that moves with wife and children
and other appendants furnishes another case for Solomon's cata-
logue of vanities ; and one that apparently did not come within
his proverbial experience, for we do not read that he ever
travelled with his thousand ladies further than to the Hebrew
Windsor, or Brighton !
I am anxiously expecting your " accouchment " and have
made it known where I could to such at least as will welcome
the Book, and read it worthily ; for with all your powers, I will
not promise you such immediate popularity as the Author of
" Satan " 1 or of " Pelham " 2 rejoice in ; you must be content with
inferior honours of Wordsworth or Coleridge!
Yr. affect, friend
W. B. DONNE
The book referred to in the above letter was the Story of
Justin Martyr and other Poems, by Richard Chenevix Trench,
Perpetual Curate of Curdridge, Hants. Moxon, 1835. First
edition. This was Trench's first volume of poetry. In his
1 Rev. Robert Montgomery, born 1807, died 1855, a popular and eloquent
preacher, was nicknamed "Satan" after a poem he wrote called "Satan,"
published in 1830.
A clergyman once, after preaching in a city church, made some remark on
the small congregation and the scantiness of the collection. " It's not so bad,
Sir," said the old clerk, "considering Satan's preaching over the way."
2 Pelham, a novel by Edward Bulwer Lytton, born 1803, died 1873. It was
published in 1828.
20 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
Memorials the author says, " The first of many works and the
most cared for by the Author ".
On receiving the book, William Donne wrote to thank Trench,
and after giving his opinion on it as a whole he says :
Meanwhile who changed for the worse the sonnet " I stood
beside a Pool " ? who wrote " the cloudy wind " for the " cloudy
platforms of the wind " as my MS. has it ? Why did you not
publish a few Spanish Translations, and wherefore omit a " Sonnet
to the Moon " I have by me ? l
W. B. Donne to K C. Trench
THETFORD
Nov. n, 1835
MY DEAR TRENCH,
I discovered in this capital of brewers and millers,
and single old ladies of both sexes, what ought to constitute me
Burgess for life, and entitle me to a Butt of Ale yearly. I dis-
covered that about a century since, some good man forseeing I
suppose that I should come hither and want them, had left in
the free school Chamber a small library of Books ; a very small
one indeed, but portly and sound and perhaps as he also foresaw
exactly the books that I want to read and run over with my
fingers, not for their main contents but for their indirect and
1 In the new edition of his poem, published in 1836, Trench altered the line
"cloudy platforms of the wind" to the " cloudy wind ". The " Sonnet to the
Moon " is not to be found in Trench's Works, but it is copied into a manuscript
book of W. B. Donne's and runs as follows :
SONNET TO THE MOON
Pale Moon, I gaze upon thy tranquil crest,
This weary night while pain clings near to me,
And fondly ask, do they that dwell with Thee
If Thou indeed hast dwellers, when opprest
And pained, gaze on our planet as a rest
Of quietude and beauty, even as we
When tempested on Life's unquiet sea
Deem thine the haunt and home of happy rest.
Oh may they hold this cheerful trust as I
Who would not for all knowledge let depart
The earnest faith and solace of my heart
While pondering on its sad perplexity
On all this evil of evil, that afar
Are tearless mansions in some happier Star.
R. C. TRENCH 21
collateral ones. We have Sir H. Savill's " Chrysostom" and
Hieronymous and Cyril so what with these and your kind loan
of Augustine I shall get by the time that Winter is over, a little
insight into what the "Fathers" will do tor me, and not lose
my time nor empty my purse in transporting or purchasing books.
Not a soul knew of the books, saving the school Master, who
saw them daily, but did not know what manner of things they
were, and sundry incorporated mice and spiders who lived on the
public stock, and complained of the Whig spirit of innovation
that troubled their hereditary repose. Now as you had not
when I was in your study a Chrysostom or a Jerome, you may
like to have these cheap, and I have only to get some large flag-
stones backed and lettered " Hieronymi opera " " Chrysostomi
Opera " and put them up in the shelves, and I will undertake
that no one finds out the exchange of stones for bread these
hundred years. Seriously however, if you have any questions
to ask of Chrvsostom, or any extracts for your red quartos, I
shall be too happy to search and transcribe for you.
If you would see honourable mention of me and at the same
time have a beautiful edition of Cowper, send for Southey's first
volume, verily I have got for my services the lion's share of
thanks and am satisfied accordingly.
Y*. affect, friend
W. B. DONNE
Mr. Donne and his mother (who, as has been said, was cousin
to the poet Cowper) had furnished letters and information to
Southey when he was writing Cowper's Life. Cowper died on
25th April, 1800, at East Dereham, only five miles from Mattis-
hall, and Mrs. Edward Donne and Mrs. Bodham had had frequent
intercourse with the " Bard of Olney " and " Johnny of Norfolk "
when they lived there.
The Donnes had also lent Southey some of the portraits
which illustrate his volumes, namely, " Cowper's Mother's Picture "
by Heins, Cowper, John Johnson and Catharine Johnson (Mrs.
W. B. Donne's mother), all by Abbott ; therefore when in a
letter Mr. Donne says they were " faithfully exact," his testimony
is equivalent to that of an eye-witness.
22 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
W. B. Donne to R. C. Trench
MARCH 6, 1836
MY DEAR TRENCH,
We are on the move from Thetford, and not
having heard of a Tenant must return " en masse " to Mattis-
hall, to separate into a smaller company on the first occasion.
My own inclinations lead me to wish that the old birds remain
there, and that ourselves either abroad, or in London, could find
a place of less exile and solitariness than the heart of Norfolk.
Unless you can enter into the proper occupations of a country life,
which I am not depreciating, you are thrown out of the wheel-
track and must either make a by-road for yourself, or remain
behind. He who sits at his desk, and he who farms, and attends
County Meetings, and Quarter Sessions, live in different worlds,
which can never approximate, and had better for their several
comforts, keep always asunder.
I should like London exceedingly as a residence, but without a
calling to bring me in some " grist " it would not suit our means
at present. I would do task work cheerfully, but having no
interest, and there being such scrambling for clerkships in all
offices, I am afraid my chance of employment is but a poor one.
Sometimes such matters come round in unlookt for ways so keep
a corner of your ear vacant if it be not pre-occupied by a better
claimant.
Yr. affect, friend
W. B. DONNE
It must not be supposed by the above letter that Mr. Donne
did not do his duty as a country gentleman, although he was
never so contented as when among his beloved books, or quietly
enjoying the happy family life around him. He not only visited
the Union of the District once a week as a Guardian, but also
taught a class of boys there, an unusual proceeding in those days.
His duty as a magistrate took up some of his time also. On
one occasion two young fellows whom he had committed for trial
for sheep-stealing were sentenced to transportation for life. It
was proved that they belonged to a very ill-doing family, and it
was a particularly audacious case ; but there was something about
the lads which appealed to William Donne's tender heart, and he
could not dismiss them from his thoughts.
J. W. BLAKESLEY 23
It happened the next week that Mr. Donne was the magis-
trate appointed to visit the prisoners in Norwich Castle (then
used as a jail), and so came across the condemned lads again.
They received him in sullen silence, and apparently took no notice
when he implored them not to let this false step drag them down
for ever, but to make up their minds to start afresh in the New
World. It seemed as if they were hardening themselves against
all good influences, and the pity of it all, and the youthfulness of
both, touched William Donne, who had sons of his own. He
went up to one and took him by the hand saying, " Well good-
bye. I shall still hope to hear good news of you both." At this
the boy broke down, and sobbed out, " No gentleman has ever
shaken hands with us before and no one has said a kind word
to us. We will try, Sir, to do better you have given us hope."
Years after Mr. Donne received a letter from them telling him
how fortunate they had been and how prosperous they were, and
thanking him for his kind words.
W. B. Donne to J. W. Blakesley
MATTISHALL
SEPT. 2, 1836
MY DEAR BLAKESLEY,
I have seen Vipan within the last fortnight, for
the first time since his return to England. He certainly ought
to be exhibited by the Homoeopathists as a walking advertise-
ment for the benefit of their theory.
Being in England is to him a sort of St. Vitus's dance : he
seeks rest, and findeth none : he is in London, and at Mattishall,
at Thetford and at Weymouth within one period of 48 hours.
Though a merciful man, he is not so to his beast, whom he drives
about incessantly. I imagine all this " cacoethes eundi " leaves
him when he crosses the water, as certain animals disappear at
the equator : and that he moves in Germany with as much plan
and purpose as ordinary men.
If I were justified in cutting any man for default of cor-
respondence it is Kemble, who has not merely neglected writing
to me for nearly two years, but has besides put me to the expense
and trouble of writing to him at Munich, where I understand he
had retired to take a little breath in the labours of courtship. I
am at a loss how to deal with him. I would abuse him, but
24 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
Frau John understands English; and might take exceptions
against me, did I send him a cartel instead of an epithalamium.
I did look for him never to many ; but the shock of surprise was
much milder than if it had been told me that Spedding or H.
Romilly had sacrificed themselves to the good of posterity. For
then I should entertain no doubt that the world was in dying
circumstances and that everything, that had ever been foretold
of portentous and prodigious, was close at hand.
I remain in hopes of no distant meeting by the sea, or inland,
My dear Blakesley
Ever sincerely yours
W. B. DONNE
Edward Fit/Gerald visited the Donnes towards the end of
1836. In a letter to Trench writing of this (16th Dec., 1836)
William Donne says :
His life and conversation are the most perfectly philosophic
of any I know. They approach in grand quiescence to some of
the marvels of contentment in Plutarch. He is Diogenes without
his dirt. He confesses to so much ease, as to make it a question
whether since he cannot find, he should not create for himself
some salutary trouble, and consults me if he should marry, or
open a Banker's Book. I advise him however to let well alone.
Vipan also made me two flitting invitations although he
pronounces England to be the best abode an opinion which his
account of Munich and Hungary, as far as regards economy,
strangely contradict yet all the while he is in it, he has a
tarantula bite upon him, that will not let him rest, but leads him
over " brake and over brier " in an old heavy gig, or on the top
of a coach, like a man with an evil spirit. Should the cholera not
cross his path, he talks of going after the Winter to Constanti-
nople, and even to Asia Minor. " Were it not better done as
tinkers use" to get a covered cart with a chimney, and move
from place to place, leaving the pullers down, and the keepers
up of England to fight their approaching battle, in dust and
noise to their heart's content.
Y'. affect, friend
W. B. DONM
J. M KEMBLE 25
John Kemble, after a long residence in Germany, where he
was a pupil of the celebrated brothel's Grimm, returned to
England in 1836, having married Natalie Augusta, the daughter
of Professor Amadous Wcndt, of Ciottingen University. In a
letter to Blakesley (23rd March, 1837) William Donne asks :
Have you seen Kemble since from a citizen of the world he
became the Editor of the British and Foreign Review ? As far
as good looks and spirits are tokens of well-being, he is a pros-
perous man, or was, no longer than last January, and if his letters
may be trusted he is so still. For three times that I saw the
Hausvater, I saw Frau John but once ; and to pronounce upon
a lady from one interview requires more decision of character
than I possess but both Mrs. Donne and myself are agreed in
wishing to become better acquainted with her, thinking her a
very nice person and you know that ladies have one sense more
than we have where character is concerned.
Yr. affect, friend
W. B. DONNE
J. M. Kemble to W. B. Donne
3 CRAVEN PLACE
BAYSWATER
MY DEAR WILLIAM,
You are a man made up of and nurtured upon
the milk of human kindness; but you would do me great
wrong if you supposed that you had been neglected all this
while ; i.e., be it observed more neglected than any one else :
before 1 married I was vagabondizing too much to write, and
was indeed in no frame of mind to produce anything worth
recording : and since marriage my dear fellow, I am hardly over
the honeymoon yet ; have been pestered to death with the
details of settling (that is the phrase is it not, for the period
during which water passes from muddy to clear ? ) ; and am to
boot Editor of the British and Foreign Review. You know not
how much lies in that one word Editor. But I grumble not,
for the original curse was, that man should eat bread in the
sweat of his brow, and a damnable soup it makes, with reverence
be it spoken. And now to answer some of your impertinent
questions Dost thou in the weakness of thy heart conceive so
26 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
ill of me, as to believe that I would give up, or in any way
neglect Anglo-Saxon, Philology, and other branches of useful
knowledge ? Thou should'st know thy man better ? Listen,
mark how a plain tale shall put thee down : three days ago I
sent to .my printer the last sheets of Beowulf vol. 2 being about
5 sheets of philological, grammatical, and historical notes, whereat
if the world do not wonder and amaze themselves it is their look
out, not mine. Moreover my Preface to the said vol. is really a
good piece of work, and I praise it myself.
I wish you could persuade your wife to let you come up for
a few days to London : I cannot offer you a room to sleep in,
not having more than we occupy ; but I will give you as many
breakfasts, dinners, and teas as you like : my father is acting for
the last season, literally taking leave of the public : and a private
box you can have at all times, with or without us, as you will.
Adelaide Kemble who sings as if she had taken lessons from the
court-musician la haut (which of the angels has the office I
know not, perhaps some of your country parsons may be better
informed) shall sing to you : and Natalie Kemble who plays
quite as divinely shall play to you. I have a garden where you
may schwdrm, and there are Kensington Gardens and Hyde
Park at my very door, wherein you may take refuge should your
schwdrmerei become too big for your bosom, and your soul
want elbow-room among the apples of my little Bayswater
Paradise ! I do not know if you see our Review. Bating our
poetical taste which is execrable, and which I mean, as soon as I
can, to reform altogether, we are as good, upright, and clever, as
we are an honest periodical. This is not vanity, neither is it a
joke ! I am downright in earnest and the best proof that I am,
is my having taken upon myself to be man-midwife to our
wisdom.
Our foreign information is unrivalled ; there is no periodi-
cal in Europe which knows so much as we do ; no set of men
in the world who so uncompromisingly act upon the know-
ledge they possess ; so boldly tell the good and the evil of our
times, and so determinately point to the path which Europe
must follow if she would regenerate herself. I do not know if
you are quite practical enough for us : I mean, whether you
JOHN MIK II I- 1. 1. KKMBLE
J. M. KEMBLE 27
have sufficiently bored yourself with the questions of modern
politics, to put your shoulder with us, to this spoke of the
wheel ; but there are many subjects of interest which no man
could treat better, or more honestly than yourself, and right
glad should I be to receive an article from you upon any such
subject. I do not ask you to write about Roman History, be-
cause I do not think people care about such matters, and you
know if you would make people take the Absinthia tetra of
wisdom, you must condescend to give them some of the mellis
liquor with it ; i.e., if you will give them physic, it is only fair
that they should be allowed to choose what jam they will take
it in ; nor do I ask you to write about Buckwheat and Mangel-
wurzel because I believe heaven enlightened you when it led
your mind away from Farming ; but it is my opinion that on
many matters of home or foreign interest you could produce
something which would do us all good ; viz., the reader by
enlightening him, the writer by putting a handsome fee in his
pocket, and the editor ? How the editor is to gain by it I do
not very clearly see, except in the satisfaction he would derive
from two such good deeds as those named above. If you would
only come to us, we might talk over such matters and come to
a more definite conclusion on the subject. Conversation with
my wife, would improve your German ; a short Ausflug, as the
Teutons call it, would improve your health ; and it is hardly to
be doubted that conversation with myself would improve your
knowledge and morals.
As to your hint that we should come and visit you at Mattis-
hall it only serves to show how little you, the waiters in the
outer porch, know of what goes on at the altar ! Why my
good fellow, Prometheus himself was never tighter bound to his
bit of the Caucasus, than I lam to my Review : I have been, and
am still, sitting amidst piles of proofsheets, revises, publishers'
letters, authors' complaints, articles rejected, and articles accepted,
but which the authors (from a modest feeling, perhaps, of their
own incompetence to the task) have entrusted it to me to trans-
late into respectable, and readable English for them. Still my
dear Willie, I am as happy as the day is long and should be yet
happier, could one or two of my dear friends look upon my
28 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
happiness. We have so long known one another, and so long loved
one another, that though I do not believe there exists two men more
unlike one another in mental qualifications, yet we have a most
complete understanding of our mutual feelings, wishes, and hopes.
You would laugh to see what an orderly husband I am become,
and what a good little wife I've taken unto myself to keep me in
the right way ! Kindest remembrances to your Wife and Mother.
Ever affectionately thine
J. M. KEMBLE
The monotony and isolation of the country in winter and
early spring was occasionally broken by the visit of some friend,
and in 1837 the Donnes made the acquaintance of Bernard
Barton, the Quaker poet, the neighbour, friend, and afterwards
father-in-law of Edward FitzGerald. Introduced by the latter,
he had asked to come and see certain pictures and " reliques "
connected with Cowper the poet which were at Mattishall, and,
being also a man with a keen sense of humour, he and his host
found so many things in common that a sincere friendship was
formed there and then.
Bernard Barton was a trifle exacting, and complained if his
letters were left long unanswered, but the correspondence, now
begun, was continued very regularly on both sides until " B. B.'s "
death in 1849.
Edward FitzGerald of course was a link between them, and it
is much to be regretted that in his lifetime FitzGerald destroyed
all W. B. Donne's letters to him. No visitor was more welcome
at Mattishall than " dear old Fitz," and the children loved him
(the "Goths and Vandals" as he called them).
Mrs. Donne in one of her letters says, " he is a most agree-
able person, laughter-loving and ever suited to make holiday.
The children think so too and spare him not."
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
MATTISHALL
MAR. 25, 1837
MY DEAR FRIEND,
Did you ever fall in with Hayley's Memoirs of
Himself edited by the late Dr. Johnson of Yaxham ? A copy
for 5/- of two bulky quartos, whose original cost was two
guineas, made me imagine (like the man who hearing a " lot "
EDWARD FITZGERALD 29
going for three-pence added a bid because it must be cheap
whatever it was at that price and for his pains got 1500 cwt. of
damaged tobacco) that it could not be a dear book. But since
I have cut the leaves and skimmed the pages to read them is
impossible I am of opinion that if the paper is not worth a
crown, I am out of pocket. So extraordinarily empty a man to
set up for a fellow of mark and likelihood I never encountered
in books or in life. His conversation and manners must have
been the attraction in Hayley to Gibbon and Cowper, and these
are not reflected in his Memoirs. He has not even a comic side
to his oddities, but was in short the most lamentably fine
gentleman on record. Trench's poems I am in daily expectation
of Tennyson's are not yet published. I am however rather
dismayed at the title of the former " principally from Eastern
sources." I am in dread of parables, allegories, apothegms in
verse, instead of broad pencillings of nature, the without and
the within, and narrative. Trench keeps bad company. I do
not mean that he drinks or drives coaches. But instead of
reading Sophocles and Dante, he fills his brain with quaint
poets and mystics and is more anxious to impresss a moral,
than to create and stamp beautiful images. This which is very
creditable to him as a Divine, is the wrong course for a poet.
His book may dispel my apprehensions but except in the Bible,
and in translations from the Hindoo and Sanscrit, I never read
ten lines of Eastern poetry worth remembering ten minutes.
I must write a line to Moxon, and it is already past midnight,
so with united best remembrances,
Believe me
Ever yours, most sincerely
WILLIAM B. DONNE
Edwwrd FitzGerald 1 to W. B. Donne
BOULGE
MARCH 29, [1837]
DEAR DONNE,
I am just returned from London where I have
been staying a month. A joyful month it was, for I found all
FitzGerald, 1809-1883, author of Euphranor (1851), Polonius
(1852), Six Dramas of Calderon (1853), Omar Khayyam (1859), etc.
30 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
my friends there, unexpectedly, so that we had all kinds of
delights, and smokings and sittings up.
The man you ask me about was there : Alfred Tennyson :
he lives at No. 12 Mornington Crescent, Hampstead Road. He
will not be long there : for his family has taken another house
in Lincolnshire, very much to his sorrow. When I spoke to
you of inviting him, you comprehend, I am sure, the tone in
which I did so : half jokingly not seriously desiring you to fulfil
a duty.
Letters look very grave, while all the time there is a smile
on the writer's lips : nor will lines of writing represent the
modulations of the voice that is speaking half in jest, and half
in earnest. Perhaps one might write more intelligibly in waving
lines on those recessions.
do you not T * nyson
This would at least characterise the wondering and uncertain
mood of mind in which we often are : in which I am more than
half my life, I believe. Seriously however, I think you will be
much enriched with his acquaintance, and he with yours, and one
wishes to bind together all good spirits and to dispose an electric
chain of intelligence throughout the country. But I suppose I
spoke of this chiefly from an instinctive desire we all have to
share good things with those we love.
I know John Kemble and his wife, she is a very unaffected
pleasing woman. They have a pleasant house at Bays water, and
John is as busy as possible and with all the vigour of mind and
body, that I ever knew him possessed of what a little concen-
tration of energy it is.
Spedding is all the same as ever, not to be improved ; one
of the best sights in London.
Your ancestor's sermons are coming down into the country
among other books. When next I go to Gelderstone, I will bring
him thither and so forward him to you.
My plans of residence are not yet decided, for while my sister
is here I cannot leave, and I do not know but that this may be
my chief home for the future.
BERNARD BARTON 31
I have just found the llth volume of Cowper, what a Trump
is Southey to stick to the first edition of the translation.
As to your Theatricals, I did not wish you to leave Mrs.
Donne, for I wished her to see my friend Mac[ready] as well as
yourself. Some day or other we will all go together. Farewell
my dear Donne.
I am yours ever
E. FG.
Boulge is appended to Woodbridge : now be honest and
let Mrs. Donne know that she was in the right.
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
MAY IOTH, 37
MY DEAR FRIEND,
I deserve never again to have a letter from a poet,
for delaying so long to answer your very kind one. But there
is a tide in letter- writing, as well as in the affairs of men, that
must be taken at the onset or the thing is nought. That I
have just hit the critical moment I am by no means sure: but
at any rate to write, even invita Minerva, is better than to
allow you for a moment to suppose that I am not highly de-
lighted with the prospect of our becoming regular correspond-
ents henceforward.
Mrs. Donne will tell you how much she is pleased by your
admiration of Trench. It is fortunate that I do not write verse,
or I might be jealous of his reputation. He is however fully
worthy of it, and though I think with his resources, and from
his early promise that his poetry might be of a higher order if
he would attend less to the individual workings of his own mind,
and would look more boldly and steadily upon the great external
worlds of nature and art, yet " Sabbation " is no ordinary volume,
and is in itself a remarkable proof of the progress of poetic
culture within the 19th century. Trench's imaginative resources
are uncommon.
Mrs. Bodham is well, and desires her best remembrances may
be given to every one who takes so kiid an interest in her as
yourself. I am very glad that Southey\ Cowper appeared in
32 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
her life-time, as it has both given her pleasure and spread her
name far and wide. And I know no one whose good qualities
better deserve remembrance and celebrity. Charles Lamb
should have seen her, and put her into Elia. Will not you
perpetuate her in verse ?
I heard from Edward FitzGerald a few days since. He is
leading his usual philosophic life in London, i.e., taking every-
thing easily and making the most of whatever comes in his way,
which if not philosophy is something quite as good. Some time
since not being an angler himself, and not particularly affecting
the company of rivers and standing pools, he nevertheless struck
up an acquaintance with one who occupied himself by such
waters [Mr. Browne, of Bedford] : and this amphibious friend
proves, from his accounts, to be one of the most agreeable ac-
quaintances possible. He has had him in London, introducing
him probably to the Paddington canal and serpentine, and point-
ing him out to the humane society as a person that should be
looked after.
I shall enclose this in a parcel, as Mrs. Donne will add a few
lines of acknowledgement on her own account, and it will enable
me to forward a letter found after your departure on the library
table, but the seal being broken we concluded that it would not
be necessary to forward it especially.
Let me once more assure you of the great pleasure your brief
visit gave us and how much we desire its repetition, and believe
me
Ever yours most truly
W. B. DONNE
In June, 1837, Mr. Donne paid a visit to London and was
able to be present at the " Apostles' " dinner. He says, in writing
to Trench :
I dined at the Pan Apostolic Dinner, and rejoiced at meeting
again so many old friends and making I hope many new ones.
Charles Buller was in the Chair, but something of his antique
vein was gone, but as I went early perhaps I am no judge.
Kemble fresh as a lark, prosperous, and happy , I
think of going up to Cambridge in October and taking my B.A.
J. M. KEMBLE 33
degree ; it will be more respectable than I am now, and though
I could wish in spite of Maurice, that subscription were done
away with, I think much more respectfully of the xxxix. than
when I absconded and would sign them even if they were forty.
And a month later in a letter to Mrs. Trench Mrs. Donne
says : " William is about journeying to Cambridge for the pur-
pose of engaging a ready furnished house, which may contain us
John Kemble writes at this time :
I think you are quite right in taking your degree, if your
scruples are not too strong. As for plucking, that is a good
joke! only be well up in all your subjects; that is to say, solve
six Euclid questions, answer eight Arithmetic and Algebra, con-
strue twenty lines of Homer and twenty of Virgil, and give six
answers in the Paley and Locke paper and you are safe. The only
thing I fear for you is, that you will be so conscientious in your
preparation for the awful Ordeal that you will come out at the
head of the Poll, or something equally ridiculous. " Hoc tu
Romane " or I may be tempted to exclaim "Tu Brute ! "
Everything was arranged when Mrs. Donne fell so ill that the
journey to Cambridge had to be given up, and we hear no more
of the project. On llth August, 1837, in a letter to Trench, Mr.
Donne was able to say that his wife was nearly recovered and
Next week we shall probably go to the sea. We are enjoined
to keep company, and be merry, and joyful, comfortable injunc-
tions, but not so easy to follow, as the faculty may imagine, as
it is not every sort of company that tends to exhilaration.
We have just had a rare treat in Lamb's Letters [he con-
tinues] published by Talfourd, if you can get them into your
possession, by any means fair or foul, short of buying (they are
dear and will perchance drop in price) they will repay your pains
and time in reading them. I would not push either Coleridge or
Wordsworth from their stools, but I insist on Lamb's having as
high a seat, and being served at the same table with them. His
mind moves in a different cycle from theirs, but its circumference
is as full, and his wit pierces and lightens up the same depths
that their wisdom fathomed. Moreover he has set the art of
punning in its true light, and no possible Dr. Johnson in future
34 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
times, though twice as inert as the original Samuel, shall ever set
his hard-headedness at the art any more with regard to punning
" opus operandum est," it is a science and degrees should be con-
ferred for it.
Y'. affect, fiiend
W. B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to R. C. Trench
MATTISHALL, E. DEREHAM
DEC. 1837
MY DEAR TRENCH,
It is incumbent on you to return a very clear and
full answer to a question I am going to put and if you feel
upon reading it any misgivings, as to your knowledge or capacity
for answering, you must put it in the hands of Mrs. Trench.
For it is not a common affair of life or death, but it is to know
the best means of conveying to Botley, and afterwards to your
insides, a Turkey, so that it may arrive sweet, and yet unsoiled
by dissolution. " Mark not " the hour and the night, but the
best coach for Turkeys from London, where it starts from in
London, and how the said fowl may get from Southampton to
Botley, together with all minor and adherent particulars
necessary. Search the straw well for ].. 1. which I shall put
up with the beast, having been long so much in your debt for
Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats.
I did at one time intend to have put the coin in the claw,
that it might have been slipped like a fee into your palm at
your first meeting ; but Mrs. Donne says turkeys are packed
with their claws out of the hamper and clasped as in prayer for
deliverance from the wicker, so it is possible that some one
might shake hands with the Turkey on the road, and finding it
a guinea-fowl, anticipate you.
I have not written to you since it became my turn to con-
gratulate you on your quadri-partite family. Perhaps however
you have become indifferent to such congratulations, and think
them less mannerly than troublesome. I can't quite agree with
you in preferring girls to boys. There are a hundred ways of
getting rid of the latter, but only two of the former viz.^
J. M. KEMBLE 35
either dying yourself, an unpleasant remedy, or by their marry-
ing and then there is some chance of their bringing into your
family a fellow whom you can discover no reason for falling in
love with : who ten to one crosses you in politics, or interferes
with your habits or won't laugh at your jokes.
Well ! I accept your dogma that not what a man does, but
what he is is to be considered, and I ask you to apply it to
Coleridge, not that I mean to do so myself, but to keep you off
Lamb ; who bating brandy and water and fine shag, was most
exemplary in all his domestic relations. Let us take great men
at their best, for we reap the fruits of what was best in them,
and are not touched by their weaknesses, so we do not copy
them ; which is our fault if we do. Since we speak of great
men, have you seen Kemble in his new habitation in London,
and where is it ?
I had hoped to have seen Blakesley at Xmas, but he is gorg-
ing a pupil with plus and minus, and after he has disgorged that,
he is to fill him again with Greek and Latin. How be it Blakes-
ley comes here in or about March, cannot you contrive to meet
him?
We are very anxious to hear an improved account of Mrs.
Trench, and a good one of your Trencheries. Give my best love
to the only one who can have any dim recollection of my
personal appearance, and with Mrs. Donne's best regards united
with my own to Mrs. Trench and yourself
I am yours affectionately
W. B. DONNE
J. M. Kemble to W. B. Donne
1/27/38
MY DEAR WILLIE,
Pocket your money and hold your jaw, and never
look a gift horse in the mouth even though his grinders should be
better than you anticipated. In my private capacity, I do not
mean to deny that I am your poor friend, but as Editor of the
British and Foreign Review I am no man's friend, but a close,
hardfisted chap who requires quid pro quo. The sum I assigned
you was the one assigned by Beaumont in his scale ; if you find
36 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
it liberal so, if not, you may go and be only put the saddle
on the right horse. You will observe that my talk is of horses :
that comes of my trip to Yorkshire, where I spent ten as merry
days as a gentleman shall wish to see. Beaumont asked me
down to Bretton Park and knowing that a week's sporting would
clear my upper works of cob- webs, I accepted. It was a jovial
rollicking week as could be. Woodcock shooting all day,
woodcock eating all the evening, oysters and mulled claret all
night. Our history is as short as that of the Jewish kings, " we
did what was good in the sight of the Lord," of the Manor.
The party was nearly a family party : Lord Hawke, Lord Dud-
ley Stuart and myself were the only auxiliaries.
What a beast am I for forgetting all this while to render
thanks for your noble present ! Do not think to humbug us
Cockneys with satirical remarks about fat and lean Turkeys.
We know a good Turkey when we see him, and if you have
better in Norfolk than the fellow you sent me, I'll make six
Lents successively on stock fish and barley water. My dear
fellow he was imperial in his robe of oyster sauce.
Y r . affectionate friend
J. M. KEMBLE
W. B. Donne to J. W. Blakesley
FEB. 22, 1838
We are only now returned to Norwich. The weather being
such as to render anything beyond merely passive existence in
one's own den quite impossible.
I derived a melancholy pleasure from paying my Christmas
bills, writing history, and smoking, but as Sir Mark Chase says
" that's all, Tom, that's all ".
FitzGerald is solus in the great house at Boulge. He speaks
of reading Plato, and of the "consolation of cigars" and says
nothing about turnips and mangel-wurzel. He has however
been taking his father's rents in Nottinghamshire, whether for
the good of either party remains to be known.
Yr. affect.
W. B. DONNE
R. C. TRENCH 37
For several years W. B. Donne had been collecting materials
for writing a History of Rome, but Dr. Arnold of Rugby \\.MS
first in the field. The next letter to Trench refers to this, and
also to the poet Rogers" remark after reading Sir Walter Scott's
Life written by his son-in-law, " I never thought Lockhart
loved Scott, but now I know he hated him ".
W. B. Donne to R. C. Trench
APRIL 16, 1838
MY DEAR TRENCH,
You are not I find without some spice of irony
proper to your craft, and it appears in your asking after my
"great work". "Be merciful great Duke to men of mould."
That my labour in collecting materials has been, and is, consider-
able I admit, but that I have anything within me that will
one day germinate into anything great I cannot feel.
I want two selves for such an undertaking; one I have in
pretty good condition, the spirit of labour, and comparison ; the
other, that of construction is very meagrely given to me. I find
composition difficult ; to make it better I am very fastidious, and
I am tormented with an idea I cannot realize.
Moreover if report be true, there is a rival, and no mean one
in the field. Dr. Arnold of Rugby, who, it is said, meditates a
complete " History of Rome " from U. C. (the foundation of the
city) to the death of Antoninus the Philosopher.
This plan cannot indeed from its extent, be the same as
mine, rather a " Welt pictur " than a history, but whatever it
is, it will doubtless be so well executed as to leave little curiosity
for the work of an inferior artist, in the public ; and you know
if two men ride on one horse, one must ride behind.
I quite agree with you as to the melancholy picture of Scott
in Lockhart's biography, and Rogers' sarcasm may be a truth.
Still I think that the desire of amassing money, and of making
his genius serve to worldly ends alone, not to the higher aims of
art, were but means to an ulterior object, not ruling and solitary
principles in Scott.
Feudal state and power were the master idea in Scott's
mind. He was a descendant of the Scotts' of Buccleugh, and as
38 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
arms and border-war would no longer uphold their greatness,
he sought to found anew his lineage by literature, even as Colum-
bus, with a more splendid but similar feeling, looked upon the
discovery of a New World, but as the stepping-stone to the re-
covery of the Holy Land from the Infidels. Whatever were
Scott's motives, his life is a remarkable proof of the vitality of
genius, in overcoming and spiritualising even its earthliest incum-
brances.
Y rs . ever
W. B. DONNE
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
APRIL 17, 1838
MY DEAR FRIEND,
. . . Art thou aware that Dawson Turner has a
lithographed sketch of Mrs. Bodham, done I think by one of the
Miss T.'s ? I thought it, when he shew it me yester-morning,
more like than Harvey's. The face is not so long, and I thought
its expression more pleasing, as far as I could judge from memory.
Pray remember me with most affectionate respect to the Original,
I cannot attempt to describe my feelings as I sat by her during
that brief hour or two. It was so like a dream that I could half
persuade myself then and now, it was one. It almost seem'd for
the moment, as if I had but to turn my head to see Mrs. Unwin
on the other side, knitting. If becoming acquainted with thyself
and Mrs. Donne were a pleasure at all inferior, it was only so
from my having in fancy, known, envied and loved " Aunt Bod-
ham," with as little hope of ever seeing her, in this world, as I
should have cherished of meeting Lucy Hutchinson. That picture
too, of Cowper's angelic mother ! And the almost as fascinating
one of her mother. Mrs. B. and B. too, by Abbott ; his portrait
of Cowper, and the un-forgetable one by Romney ! How the
memory of all these, and many more objects seen and talked about
that morning haunts me. I can hardly yet persuade myself that
I have been among you " in the body ". I shall have to come
again some day, to make assurance doubly sure, but when I
dare not speculate. I fear it can't be this summer, for I have a
J. W. BLAKESLEY 39
letter this morning to say I must go into Sussex, and I fear I must,
for I have kinsfolk near and dear there, whom I have not seen
these- five years . hut I may, I trust, hope to hear from thee ;
thai would be something to corroborate my vision of Mattishall.
I must to my figures to sober myself. 1 Kindest regards to Mi's.
Donne.
Thy affectionate and obliged Friend,
B. B.
W. B. Donne to J. W. Blakesley
AP. 20, 1838
MY DKAK BLAKKSI.KV,
Your proposal of coming is a most welcome one,
and truly happy shall I be to see you.
Tennant wrote to me apprising me of his marriage, and averr-
ing in his own behalf that some years ago I wrote him an exhor-
tation to that effect. I suppose I said " Get thee a wife Prince,
get thee a wife thou art melancholy ". But I have incurred, by
such untimely pleasantry, a much heavier responsibility than I
dreamt of. He translated a joke into earnest. I trust the
event lieth not at my door. Dying men catch at straws, and
marrying apostles seek to inculpate their brethren.
Can you not bring Milnes' poems in your valise ? Trench
had told me some time ago, that he (the hon bl . Member) had
written some very admirable poetry, but as Trench once in my
hearing applied the same epithet to a cart-road, I did not give
him much heed. I was however much struck with a ballad of
Milnes' in the " Tribute ". I will not forestall any of the pleasure
I anticipate in having you with me by writing any more now.
Y'. affect, friend
W. B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to J. W. Blakesley
AUG. 16, 1838
MY DEAR BLAKESLEY,
Greatly to my surprise, and pleasure, and increase
of self-admiration, I received an invitation to become a member
1 Bernard Barton, like Rogers the poet, was a banker by profession.
40 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
of Sterling's Deipnosophists l from Sped ding, and as I answered
immediately "Yea" I conclude I was among the great men
chosen by acclamation. I could not help smiling at the goodly
company I found myself in. He says, after reciting the Members
names up to the time of his letter " In addition to these it was
proposed last meeting to invite the following gents to become
members ". Among them are first and foremost
W. B. Donne! Thirl wall. Allan Cunningham.
G. C. Lewis. R. C. Trench. Sir Francis Palgrave
and Marshal Sou It.
Saving of myself, to whom nothing worth recording has be-
fallen, I have no news to tell you for a dumb devil of unusual
potency has seized upon my scanty number of correspondents.
The Trenches may be practising the 100th psalm in heaven for
anything I know to the contrary : and the only token I have of
Kemble's " carping vital air " is the arrival of the last British and
Foreign Review without so much as " God speed you " in the cover.
Mr. Buller and two Mrs. B.'s one only, I take it his wife have
just left Mattishall. Mrs. Buller in whom you led me to expect
an atheist disappointed me in that particular, but in every other
I was very much pleased with her. Reginald 2 is a good little
fellow but was not bom with a gold spoon in his mouth. He
paid the Bishop the compliment of attending the visitation
but in bands only, not having a gown among his chatties at
present which omission drew upon the modest little man a full
share of episcopal invective in full conclave. It was very harsh,
every one says, in his lordship ; and as Reginald says, very un-
fair, inasmuch as the Bishop had no wig on consequently
deserved a wigging himself.
V r . affect, friend
W. B. DONNK
1 The Sterling Club, founded in 1838, met at " Wills in Lincoln's Inn Fields
at 7 o'clock on the last Tuesday of every month," and most of the Apostles
belonged to it.
2 Reginald Buller was Curate of Mattishall. He was the younger brother of
Charles Buller, M.P., who was one of the original "Apostles" and a pupil of
Carlyle. Charles Buller went out to Canada with Lord Durham, and is mentioned
in the next letter.
BERNARD BARTON 41
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
MATTISHALL
[SEPT. 4, l8 3 8J
MY DF..AH FRIEND,
Southey has been in Norfolk, on a visit to the
Rev d . Neville, Kirke White's brother, and for some clays I had
hopes that some lurking uncertainties about "Cowper" would
have brought him hither to have them cleared up. But I am
afraid he has returned by the way he came, although I trust
that no lion has devoured him for so doing. It has so happened
that of all men Southey is just now the very one I wanted to
see. For being on a cruise in the shallows of Coleridge's bio-
graphers, and very often aground, I should have begged a few
living facts from him to help me off. Indiscreet and unnecessary
communicativeness seems to me the peculiar judgement upon all
writers of lives at this time, and the most flagrant instances are
to be found in the most popular books, e.g., Lockhart's Scott.
But commend me to Mr. Joseph Cottle of Bristol for friendly
and affectionate slander of a beloved friend. Mrs. Candour's
motives for endorsing a lie were not purer, neither her mode of
disseminating one, better aimed. I would propose to Mr.
Lockhart, or to Mr. Cottle the following experiment. Take
two ordinary men country gentlemen like myself fiat experi-
mentum in corpore vili note down day by day our inconsist-
encies, our short-comings, our habits of drinking gin and water,
and smoking canaistre, and taking snuff, put down when we
abuse the cook, or the groom, how often we fall out with our
neighbours, and you will find, that we who have no genius at
all, commit nearly as many exorbitances as the most favoured
" children of the sun ". Argal, all you commemorate so minutely
on these points are nothing to the point ; they are common to
all men if watched ; but the genius, the range and discussion of
thought and feeling, that we have not, and that you tack as
something inherent to genius, even as Mezentius the dead body
to the living, and then you cry, " What odd fellows these great
men are ! " Rogers uttered one of his caustic sayings upon
Lockhart's Scott " I always thought Lockhart did not like
42 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
Scott, but now I am sure he hated him ". You forbade me to
think of seeing you this summer but as you may possibly have
some attraction of business or of pleasure to Norwich, it will be
as well to mention that about the middle of this month we shall
probably be there for some weeks, and if you come, inquire at
the Norfolk Hotel, in St. Giles, and you will be directed to my
sojourn. I will not promise you a bed, for I might not be able
to keep it, but everything else in reason, and a hearty welcome
you shall have.
Mrs. Bodham has been away from us for some time but
returns next week. She entered her 91st year in June, and is
still bravely. Have you seen Lane's Arabian Nights with illus-
trations by Wm. Harvey the same that embellished " Southey's
Cowper " ? Under this new form they read as fresh to me, as
when first I turned over the leaves of the " old version ". Lane
has brought dresses, and, I believe forms " tableaux vivans " for
Harvey to copy and very faithfully, and very beautifully he
has conceived oriental manners. Some people, more nice than
wise, complain that the new style, i.e., Lane's translation, reads
like the Scriptures, which is not at all unlikely as it is the
eastern mode of expression.
I will not venture to promise you a better letter the next time
I write, but if it be a worse I will promise not to send it and
with best remembrances from Mrs. Donne, believe me
Y rs . very truly
W. B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
NORWICH
OCT. 29, 1838
MY DEAR FRIEND,
I am meditating a trip, so soon as Madame is well
again, to London, and then through the blessing of railroads first
into Staffordshire and then into Hampshire. What would have
taken some years since, days, will now be performed in as many
hours. The great difficulty will be to get to London, as it is a
mere mortal conveyance by sixteen legs and four-wheels, whereas
BERNARD BARTON 43
from London, I shall travel, like an evil spirit, by the ministry of
air and fire.
We are to have to-day in this ancient city a grand radi-
cal demonstration. Mr. Stephens, 1 that militant ecclesiastic,
who recommends the people to have their rifles ready, and
Fergus O'Connor, and certain other smoking firebrands are to
address the lieges. I do not know what effect their eloquence
will have on me, but should you hear that the military were
called out, and after a desperate resistance Peter Smith, John
Thomson, and W. B. Donne were secured and lodged in the
Bridewell you will not be so much alarmed as if I had not previ-
ously told you of the meeting. I shall look in, about an hour after
the commencement of the meeting, since, by that time, the
reverend orator will have gotten into his altitudes.
Edward FitzGerald is, I believe, now at Boulge. Will you
deliver him the enclosed note, or if he be not there, put it into
the Boulge letter-bag, as it will then be forwarded to him free.
You may as well tell him that his notions of a letter differ
widely from mine. He sent me from Lowestoffe a screed of paper
with six lines, and not sealed, and instead of the lines containing
letters and words, as you might have concluded, there was some-
thing that looked like an exercise in punctuation, e.g., " j : , : ?
! :. -x .;".
With Mrs. Donne's kind remembrances united to my own
Believe me to remain
Very faithfully y".
W. B. DONNE
" Mrs. Bodham is quite well."
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
NOVEMBER 3, 1838
MY DEAR FRIEND,
. . . Edward FitzGerald left Boulge Tuesday last
for Geldeston, purposing to go thence for Norwich with the
express design of beating up thy Norwich Quarters. However,
1 Joseph Rayner Stephens, agitator, 1805-1879 ; Methodist missioner at Stock-
holm, 1826-1829; joined the Chartists, 1838; arrested for attending an unlawful
meeting at Hyde, 1838.
44 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
on second thoughts, I think I shall send thy note to Boulge too ;
lest at Geldeston he should form any fresh plans leaving Norwich
out of the question. But I know it was his full intention to pay
thee a visit. . . .
I read no Papers, so I had not heard of Madame's present to
Thee. May it (I know not its sex so I class it perforce among
neutrals) be a blessing and comfort to you both. By the bye
a friend of mine, whose good lady had done him a similar favour,
anxious to relieve the solicitude of his father-in-law, who lived in
the same city and had stopt with him to a late hour in the evening
but left ere all was well over, sent his manservant in the dead of
night to communicate the tidings to the old Gent, who was as
deaf as a post. After rapping and ringing till all the neighbours
were roused, the messenger succeeded in bringing the new Grand-
papa to his chamber window.
" Sir, my mistress is in bed and doing very well."
" I am glad to hear it," says Grandpapa ; " What has she
got?"
Now this was exactly what the messenger had never waited
to be told, so the poor fellow was floor'd. Putting however the
best face he could on the matter, he roared out with the lungs of
Achilles when Greeks and Trojans were battling over the dead
body of Panoclus " A Child ! Sir ! " " So I suppose," muttered
grandpapa, shutting his window amid peals of laughter from
divers other windows open'd out of curiosity during the dia-
logue.
Thine ever affectionately
B. BARTOX
./. M. Kemble to W. B. Donne
[1838]
MY m AH \Vn.i.ii,
I do mean to publish another number on the first
of October and if I can manage it, to put Shelley into it. But
lest you should start at niv implied doubt I wish to tell you
exactly the footing on which I want you to permit me to put
you. I have many contributors, on all sorts of subjects, and of
J. M. KEMBLE 45
all conceivable varieties of temperament, the sanguine or choleric
largely predominating ; these men are all impatient. Now about
eight such people have sent articles, which taken together with
one or two matters of immediate urgency, would make up a
good number; and they are unreasonable enough to argue that
their articles having been in my hands various periods from
twelve till eighteen months they think their turn is come. To
choleric men (clerical and lay) urging such arguments, I feel it
very difficult to give an answer satisfactory to myself and totally
impossible to give one satisfactory to them. Now what I want
is your consent, in consideration of our old friendship, to be
made a property of, and put in or left out, not as it may suit
you, but as it may suit me : the more so, because I have left the
choleric men out in order to admit you, heretofore, and turn and
turn about does seem fair.
Y'. affect^, friend
J. M. KEMBLK
J. M. Kemble to W. B. Donne
MY DEAR WILLY,
I shall have the pleasure of sending you a copy of
Francis the First ; for five and sixpences are precious in my eyes
and should be so in yours too : we are in the midst of the fifth
Edition which rejoices me much because Murray has behaved
with so much liberality both to Fanny and me that I should
have been miserable if the speculation had turned out ill. My
book he at once offered to publish for me, free from risk to
myself and if there are profits we share them. He asked me to
dinner the other day, and among the company was Hogg. The
" Shepherd " is quite delicious ; he made the finest whiskey toddy
in the world, and sang several glorious songs, his own, Burns', and
some old Jacobite ones which made my heart leap : the things
which John Wilson makes him say and do in the Nodes, are
so wonderfully like, that I more than half made him out by the
resemblance : after one of his Rantin Songs as he called it, I
told him he could not make me forget Kilmeny &c. &c. &c. : he
46 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
was pleased and we struck up a vast acquaintance instanter.
The rest of the party were very clever and pleasant. Jesse who
has just published a nice book on Natural History, Fullarton
the author of the article in the Quarterly on Misgovernment ;
Brockedon the artist, Gait, Westmacott the sculptor, Stanfield
the painter &c. &c. &c. all very agreeable.
Y r . affect, friend
J. M. KEMBLE
J. M. Kemble to W. B. Donne
NORTH END
DEC. 12, [1838]
MY DEAR WILLY,
I am gravely at work upon vol. iii. of my Saxons
in England " Marriage, Divorce, and the Family ". Nobody ever
suspected what an immense lot there was to be known on these
subjects and it is not very clear how persons without " Anglo-
Saxon " could very well comprehend the Anglo-Saxons : they
assuredly could not make use of the charters, which I have done
to an almost ridiculous extent ; even many of the Latin charters
are only translations and bad ones too, from earlier Saxon ; I
could shew you some curious instances of the blunders made in
translating even while Anglo-Saxon was still a living tongue :
and in later periods, there is no folly too great to be imagined,
which people have not imagined, in their ignorance of the
language. Wilkins gives me an example : he represents it as a
Saxon law that " no man shall kill another man except in the
presence of two or three witnesses ; and then he shall keep his
skin for four days ". Wilkins read hpySer, 1 hwyther, and thought
it meant other or another, which it does not : I had not yet told
nil these gentry that hpycfer, hryther, meant an "ox," some re-
gulation for the slaying of which might well be necessary among
a race of cattle-stealers, and which is familiar in its present new
high-dutch form Rind ; old high-dutch Hrintar &c. But still
one marvels the utter absurdity of the thing had not struck him
at once. I think now of publishing by themselves such of the
^he Anglo-Saxon letter for r (p) and w (jl) were much alike, " Wilkins"
mistook them.
J. W. BLAKESLEY 47
charters as are in Anglo-Saxon with a translation, and perhaps
some few philological remarks, but the great thing is to make
their contents accessible to all the world.
Y r . affectionate friend
J. M. KEMBLE
W. B. Donne to J. W. Blakesley
MATTISHALL
JAN. 24, 39
MY DEAR BLAKESLEY,
I hope the 1st volume of Dr. Arnold's history is
already so well known and liked as to give him fresh heart and
hope for those that are to come. I find my own admiration of
it very much increased by a third perusal.
I have heard little and seen nothing of our friends except
Edward FitzGerald who staid a day or two with me in the
autumn. He is more of a philosopher than ever, and his pro-
ficiency appears in wearing a most venerable coat and clouted
shoon. He was when he left me, under marching orders for
Hastings to convoy certain sisters. He has some of the in-
conveniences of marriage even in his state of innocence and
among them I should reckon not the least that of accompanying
Mrs. FitzGerald (his Mother) the round of the theatres to see
the "Demon Dwarf," and sometimes the Melodrames.
I do not envy Barnes his pupillizing, as, after having had one
pupil at home, I prefer tending swine like the prodigal to re-
peating the trial. But if any literary work with a fair re-
muneration not "guerdon" but "remuneration" mind you is
going begging, I am too dirty a dog to mind snapping at it.
I would not indeed work for Richard C. but anything in reason,
so "remember me" should an opportunity offer. I have long
since concluded with myself, and deem it for the good of
Posterity it should know, that the man with guineas in his
pockets is the great man a truth evidently hidden from Words-
worth or he would not have asked so idle a question as that
" Who is the happy Warrior ? "
At length I have read Maurice's " Kingdom of Christ " in its
48 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
collected form. Much of so much as I understand of it is
admirable, some things I scratch my head at, and at some shake
it altogether.
His idea of a Church History at the end of the second
volume is a first rate piece of critical philosophy. Howbeit with
certain reminiscences of Church History present with me I
cannot altogether trace the Catholic Unity of Christendom, so
smoothly as he would point it out.
Y r . sincere friend
W. B. DONM
The following letter is from Mrs. Bodham, then in her ninety-
first year. Charles and Mowbray Donne were respectively seven
and six years old at the time, and as " Aunt Bodham " often
rewarded them with a sixpence after reading to her, they never
failed to present themselves after breakfast.
Mrs. Bodham to Mrs. Edward Donne
MATTISHALL
JUNE 5, 1839
MY DEAR NIKCK,
I will endeavour with my own hands to thank
you most kindly for your present ot the nice apron, which fits
beautifully and with my Sunday dress looks very handsome.
Dear Charles said " Aunt you will go to Church with it I sup-
pose".
I am happy to say Charles, and all our darlings are quite
well. Nurse h ts just taken Charles away, for he keeps in my
room after breakfast. He comes and reads the Psalms to me
;ui(l when he leaves me dear Mowbray comes and reads to me
,-iUo. Fred and Blanche run in when they can find admittance
not bein<r able to open the door themselves. I trust you will
excuse this sad performance, my poor hand is very painful.
Accept kind love from
Yr. affect. Aunt
ASM.
EDWARD FITZGERALD 49
Edward FitzGerald to W. B. Donne
BOULGE HALL
AUG. 22, [1839]
MY DEAR DONNE,
I had a letter from you nearly 3 weeks back I
think, while I was staying at Bedford. By what you told me
then, I conclude you are now at Cromer ; but I direct to Mattis-
hall as you desired me. Thank you for your invitations &c., if
I were disengaged, I should come over to the sea-side and wander
about on the shore with you, but I have come here to assist at
a kind of family reunion for a time, and believe that I shall go
over to Ireland about the beginning of September. The middle
of October (at the latest), will find me with all my summer
wanderings over, ready to wish myself in cotton and quietude
for the winter.
Perhaps however I shall see you some of those days : for an
excursion to Norfolk from here, or to Norwich from Gelderstone,
is not to be accounted in the list of long movements.
I have nothing at all to tell you of, less than ever, as I have
even read nothing for months except Dante's Paradisi, which
happens to have been published some time. By the way I
stumbled upon a Review by Carlyle on some German Memoirs
of a certain Rahel Vou Ense, in the Westminster which touched
me as all his writings do. I suppose one day I shall be converted
to be a furious admirer of his French Revolution. All this time
I think Carlyle is a one-sided man ; but I like him because he
pulls one the opposite side to which all the world are pulling
one.
Tell Mrs. Donne I read his and a translation of her favourite
Quintus Fixlein some weeks ago ; the design and the char-
acters are very fine ; but rather muddled with sentiment so
I think now : but I hope to be converted by her one of these
days.
In the Review I spoke of before, there is an account of Jean
Paul in his little home at Baireuth a very beautiful account of
a very noble simple fellow. The Author stays a day with him,
" But (as Carlyle says) those candles are blown out, and the fruit
50 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
platters swept away, and all the living story of that household
gone down into the long night ".
Have you ever read Carlyle's review of Lockhart's Scott ?
There is little else but Carlyle in this letter I see.
Pray Donne write to me if you can : and tell me that Mrs.
Donne is better. I have resumed my farming character, now
that Harvest is pending, pending indeed it has been during these
rains, but now the weather seems promising fine. Farewell : kind
remembrances to all.
Ever y rs .
E. FITZGERALD
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
MATTISHALL
SEPT. 29, 1839
MY DEAR FRIEND,
A Mr. Pymont of some street Westminster wrote
to me the other day that he had a picture of a lady and child who
in the year 1660 bore the name of Donne, and offering the same
to me for a consideration. The man seems marvellously perfect
in our genealogy, and I can therefore believe the picture to be
a genuine portrait, but abstractedly I have no reverence for
what frequently constitutes family pictures, and though I might
be tempted by a well-favoured progenitress, I will not have a
stiff, awful, bilious, unpropitious looking dame with a dropsical
boy in her arms. Nay, I have practised what I profess, and
burned or buried some years ago, sundry of my forefathers and
toremothers for their ugliness. I would much rather as a matter
of taste have a gallery of my posterity than of my predecessors.
There is some chance the former will never wear wigs or hair-
powder, or buttons as big as muffins, or posys in their breasts, or
Haps to their pockets or red heels to their shoes, and therefore
an equal chance that they will look as they were created with
a slight addition of drapery.
Yr. affect, friend
W. B. Dox\i
J. W. BLAKESLEY 51
/. W. Blakesley to W. B. Donne
TRIN. COLL., CAM.
Nov. 17, 1839
MY DEAR DON xi ,
You have taken so kindly to the avocation of writ-
ing that I am induced to hope you will undertake another job of
that kind. Maiden has brought down the history of Rome to the
taking of the city by the Gauls, and our friends Thompson and
Merivale had engaged to continue it, the first from the Gallic in-
vasion to the end of the Commonwealth, the latter from that time
to Heaven knows when. Thompson, pro more suo, declares that
he finds he is utterly unequal to the task and what is worse has de-
termined to resign the affair. He would be extremely obliged to
you if you would undertake it, but whether you do or not, he is
determined himself to give up. Now it would be very disagreeable
to Maiden and Merivale to have for their coadjutor some person
" knowing little Latin and less Greek " as is likely to be the case
if they cannot find a person to put forward themselves ; and you
will confer a great favour upon them, the Apostles, and the
world in general, if you will allow Thompson to propose you as
his substitute. I think you have bestowed a good deal of pains on
this subject, and made collections for some years past, so that the
labour although a very great one would be far lighter to you than
to Thompson, who has lectures to give to the undergraduates on
subjects quite disconnected with his opus magnum. I think this
will be far more satisfactory than writing lives for Rose's Dic-
tionary, which is likely I think to be but a poor thing after all,
and the pay will certainly not be worse. They propose to give
^30 per sixpenny number and they expect three such numbers in
the course of the year.
. affect.
J. W. BLAKESLEY
52 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
W. B. Donne to J. W. Blakesley
MATTISHALL, E. DEREHAM
13 DECEMBER, 1839
MY DEAR BLAKESLEY,
I heard from the Secretary of the U. K. S. (Useful
Knowledge Society) last week, that he intended laying Thompson's
letter and Mr. Maiden's recommendation, this week before the
committee ; so, at present, I am only " in danger of the council ".
By the time of our meeting I shall probably have heard farther.
Had I known of Thompson's intentions not to bring out a No
before Midsummer 1840, I probably should have fixed a more
distant day for my own parturition. But I believe it is better
as it is ; since, having too much time before one is nearly as bad
as having too little especially with those who like myself love
reading better than inditing.
Setting aside the 90 per annum, I shall like the job as well
as any that could have been cut out for me and at the very
respectable pace Rose is driving at, I see no reason why I may
not horse an occasional stage for him, into the bargain.
Pray undeceive yourself as to our having put a Whig bishop
into the chair to keep the peace at a Church of England National
Education Meeting. It was a Tory Lord Lieutenant who troubled
the waters. He reversed Sir Lucius O'Trigger's concluding ob-
servation, and left no contented person present who was not dis-
satisfied.
I have a very long letter from Vipan and some excellent
MS. of his to show you, which I hope he will publish. He would
I believe come to England, did it please God to take to himself
about half of the friends and kinsfolk he (Vipan) has in this
country.
With Mrs. Donne's best remembrances.
Yours ever most truly
WILLIAM B. DONNE
In 1839 Donne was able to spend a few days with Trench
at Botley, and be present at the " Sterling " dinner, on his way
through London ; and for the next few years this yearly dinner
was all the recreation he allowed himself. His life was indeed very
J. W. BLAKESLEY 53
fully occupied (owing to his wife's chronic ill-health) with home-
duties, superintending the household, and teaching his children.
Donne managed nevertheless to write some " Lives " of the
Caesars for the " Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge "
(U. K. S.), but after publishing four numbers he writes :
I have learnt that there is no subject for which people
care so little as Roman History. This knowledge though it
abates nothing of my admiration of the subject, very consider-
ably lessens my zeal for instructing the public, who refuse to
hear the voice of the charmer.
W. B. Donne to J. W. Blakesley
MATTISHALL
JAN. 3, 1840
MY DEAR BLAKESLEY,
The parcel of books arrived safely yesterday, and
Martin nosed them, and drank 13 cups of bohea in honour of
their advent. The packet was not sent to Cambridge for the
same reason the English fleet was not seen it was not ready.
The necessity of entertaining a bevy of relations in Christmas
week, to say nothing of an affecting parting with the only
physician in the family marred my leisure.
Rose's carelessness is beyond bearing. I send him an article
on " Alferius Varus " which would have occupied not quite half
a column, and I believe contained all that is known about him.
He was a shoemaker, who quitted the awl for the bar, and studied
law under the celebrated Servius Sulpicius. Rose cramps me up
into three lines, in which he manages to say, that " Alferius was
apprenticed as a shoemaker to Servius Sulpicius ". Suggest a
gentlemanly mode of striking, that I may get quit of responsibility
for such blunders.
FitzGerald will probably come home with me to-morrow
we just missed him by my note not being delivered early enough.
He is reading Livy, and sends me a most ingenious criticism on
Niebuhr, with a wood-cut, as a great humbug ! It will make a
fine frontispiece for the U. K. S. Roman History, when complete.
Your affectionate friend
W. B. DONNE
54 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
W. B. Donne to J. W. Blakesley
THURSDAY MORNING
1840
MY DEAR BLAKESLEY,
I find it of singular use, when I am in debt to any
one a letter, to accuse my creditor of owing me one. This I
have lately practised upon Trench, who growls at the fraud like
a bear awakened from sleep. It has elicited, however, from him
a much fuller and more satisfactory bulletin of himself and his
acts, and his wars, and all that he does than I have had for some
time.
Merivale sent me a most admirable outline of his plan for our
joint undertaking: and my expectations are highly raised for
its fulfilment. I begin to see my way through the scope and
contents of my No. I. But, at first, I was absolutely in de-
spair : and I shall not feel at all comfortable until I am beyond
the first Punic War. Mr. Rose has given up, or been given up
by, the Biography : and we are no longer driven 6 miles an
hour.
I have been so fortunate as to meet Dr. Arnold x lately. He
greatly pleased me, although as to his outward man, I had
dreamed him something of the Busby and Drury kind. I am
glad, however, that my boyish days are over, as I can believe
his shrewd and piercing eye would assume a very sinister ex-
jm ssion in case of a false quantity, or a bad construe. But,
bless my heart, to hear him recount the difficulties of the History
of Rome, is enough to drive one mad, especially as I believe
him quite correct in his notions on the latter periods of the
republic we did not agree at all : and there I did not mind cross-
ing weapons with him.
Pray excuse this scrawl and believe me
V rs . ever most truly
W. B. DONM
'Dr. Arnold, 1795-1842, Fellow of Oriel College, Oxford; Headmaster of
Rugby, 1828-1842 ; author of History of Rome (unfinished), 1838-1842, etc.
BERNARD BARTON 55
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
MATTISHALL
FEBRUARY 24, 1840
MY DEAR FRIEND,
Towei*s of Siloam luckily seldom fall, otherwise I
do not deny but that I deserve at least a few bricks on my head
Cor my sins as a correspondent. We have neither wished each
other a happy new year, nor exchanged valentines nor kept
twelfth-night, and all these omissions are fairly to be laid at my
door, for not answering your last letter written many months
ago. Know however, for your comfort, that the punishment of
my sins has fallen upon me not in the shape of bricks and tiles
nor, like Gibbon's, in that of a fit of the gout, but in Influenza
or something of the sort, which, after tormenting me for a fort-
night, has left me decrepid in body, and foolish in mind. Snuff
is an abomination to me : I cannot smoke : and I am indifferent
to Roman history. The only place I am really fit for is " Fool's
Paradise 1 ' and I am worthy to enter therein.
How have you been this winter : we were rejoicing like
crickets and swallows in the mildness of January, when February
damped all our chirpings. FitzGerald betook himself in time
to a London chimney comer, after some idle speculations about
settling in a country-town for the winter. I recommended him
to try Dereham, because Dereham contains no one of the ele-
ments of his comfort and, had he been in earnest, would have
most speedily put his project to flight. Dereham is peopled
with Capulets and Montagues who quarrel on every decent
occasion such as coals, schools, gravel-pits, Friendly Societies,
odd Fellows, newspapers, churchwardens, &c., and would have
managed to draw our even-minded friend into some squabble, or
would have united, to squabble with him. Formerly small towns
had fixed principles the clergyman was the principal person :
the lawyer had the largest house : the doctor the largest knocker
and the brightest shutters, and each of these was the oracle of
certain circles of elderly ladies who agreed pretty well ; or at
least who loved cards and scandal too well to quarrel seriously.
Now there is nothing but " Church " and " Dissent " the old ladies
56 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
have disappeared : the single lawyer and doctor are frittered
away into half a dozen eager bipeds in each class, and the parson
is converted into a jealous sentinel of the church, suspecting and
questioning every body, and turning yellow if you utter a word
of doubt or dissent.
My fire is nearly out, and I have really accomplished much
more than I expected when I began.
Very truly yours
W. B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
MATTISHALL, E. DEREHAM
MARCH 27TH, 1840
MY DEAR FRIEND,
A letter from Edward FitzGerald complaining of
me as a correspondent reminds me also that if I have used him
ill, I have treated you worse.
Can you give me any recent intelligence of poor Southey ?
I am informed that his case is almost hopeless : although it is
alleviated by his exemption from pain. He has always shown
symptoms of a " perfervidum ingenium " : but his habits were so
regular, and brought him so seldom in contact with the annoy-
ances of the world that such a termination of his laborious life
was beyond prediction. The " Globe " with the usual delicacy of
a newspaper, censured him for not writing an Epithalamion to
Prince Albert. Walter Landor undertook to defend him, and
to supply the deficiency by writing one himself. But he has
singularly unhappy notions of the province of a court-poet :
since in what he meant to be complimentary to the Queen, he
calls her progenitors fools, and herself, if I understand his Ode,
the litter of Westplmlmn swine! She may very well reply to
him "Thou hast the most unsavoury simili.
You will be ghul to It-am that Trench's poems succeed so
well that he intends republishing his two volumes in one, in a
cheaper form, and with additions. If you see the Educational
Magazine the New Series, you will find him a contributor,
except however in Hie last number No. -'i which contains
BERNARD BARTON 57
" Orpheus and the Argonauts ". I am not greatly in love with
his later effusions. They are too moral: too much of the "do-
me-good" sort: and with too little colour and precision to be
poetry.
You must certainly intend a pilgrimage into Norfolk this
summer. Until July I am nearly certain of being at home :
having besides my wife and children, two or three good-sized
clogs hung upon me, and fastened to my desk. If however you
come in July or August the odds are you would still find me
here, but more at liberty to rove and expatiate than in the
weeks which intervene between now and then. At any time,
however, I shall be glad to welcome you. There are two or
three choice pictures to be seen within a mile or two : and I
have parted with that kicking horse I had when you were here
before : my present brute only stands upright. You are not,
however, required to ride him.
I am told that the late severe weather has had a most
singular effect upon the lawyers on circuit. At Cambridge's
assizes, last week, the attorney general and Mr. Kelly who were
opposed to each other in a road-case were seen gesticulating in
dumb show : their voices being quite extinct. Nothing could
exceed the fury of their argumentative looks : and all their
energies were concentrated in pantomime. How the jury man-
aged to understand them I am not competent to say perhaps
they impannelled none but conjurors, and clowns, and deaf and
dumb persons, such as can hold discourse by leaping and
tumbling, and by means of their fingers.
Mrs. Bodham is I think rather aged this winter. She would,
did she know I was writing to you desire her best remembrances
might accompany Mrs. Donne's. Should you see FitzGerald pray
assure him I admit the justice of his complaints and will write
to him shortly. Were it not for the penny-post, I should not
venture to send you so wretched a note. The paper I write on
is fit only for a history of Grease but I discovered its lubricity
too late.
Believe me ever
Y rs . very truly
W. B. DONNE
58 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
APRIL 5, 1840
MY DEAR FRIEND,
I thank thee heartily for thy letter and would
come to thy pleasant habitat and glad, but see no chance of
doing so at present. . . . Edward FitzGerald has been at Boulge
I think a fortnight, and has spent two or three evenings, I really
believe four, with us, to my great pleasure. He brought me
down a valuable present too, a Snuff-box of noble dimensions,
made from a bit of the Royal George. I like it not the less
from its putting me in mind of Cowper and his noble dirge
" Toll for the Brave ". A Snuff-box is the best form of any I
know in which to put " material " of this kind, and is in itself one
of the pleasantest momentoes I know of an absent friend.
Such may not be the case with those who only pretend to
take Snuff who can be without their box and not miss it, but
with one really of the Corps it is a never failing Memoria Tech-
nica. I do not think I was in any danger of forgetting our very
pleasant friend, but now it is impossible.
I am going to be made a great Man ! Not exactly called to
the Peerage, but I am not sure the announcement of such an
elevation being in prospect could have been more unlocked for.
Four of my Townsfolk or Neighbours, for two of 'em live out of
Woodbridge, are building a new Ship, and she is to be launched
from the Stocks here this month or next under the name of
"The Bernard Barton of Woodbridge ". " Think of that
Master Ford ! " If my Bardship never gets me on the Muster-
roll of Parnassus, it will into the Shipping-List ! If I fail of
being chronicled among the Poets of Great Britain by some
future Cibber, I shall at any rate be registered at Lloyds, along
with the Spitfires, Amazons, Corsairs and what not. The as-
tounding fact was made known to me by one of the tour owners
a fortnight ago, and I have scarce recovered it yet. I communi-
cated it, too abruptly, to poor Edward FitzGerald, just as he
ua> ,m>in<; to sit down to dinner with me, and he jumped up,
chair and all, taking that and himself into the far corner of the
BERNARD BARTON 59
room, professing he could not presume to sit at the same table
with one about to have a ship named after him. I wish I may bear
such unlocked for honor with becoming meekness, if I do, I must
thank my Quakerism for it, for it would ill befit one of our cloth
to be uplifted in spirit by such an event. But I believe, Quaker
as I am, I shall be fain to indulge a little in idle vanity, for I had
a letter a day or two ago from a certain Mr. Bennett, who he
is I know no more than that mysterious personage the Man in
the Moon, but he tells me he is making a collection of the Auto-
graphs " of the most illustrious Men of the present time" and
hopes I will kindly permit him to add mine to said collection.
Now " This is rayther too rich " as Sam Weller said " the young
Lady told the Pastry Cook when he gave her a Pork Pie as was
all fat ". One might almost fancy Mr. Bennett had heard I was
about to have a Ship named after me. The fun of the thing is,
with all my illustriousness, it seems my whereabout is unknown,
as the writer directs to me at Ipswich. And to crown the joke,
the applicant has put neither date nor habitat to his letter.
The postmark looks like Bristol, so if I send that invaluable
relic, my autograph, I must hazard it conjecturally, on that wide
solution. Well, so be it, only pray set me down in future
among the most illustrious, authority, Mr. Bennett. I mourn
over Edward FitzGerald's departure, for his occasional drop-
pings-in of an evening were like green spots in the desert
as poor Lamb once said " The sky does not drop such larks
every day ". Pray make my very kindest respects to Mrs. Donne
and my most reverential ones to Mrs. Bodham. I believe I
am more proud of having sate on the same " sofa " with her,
than of having, or being about to have, a ship named after me.
The Bernard Barton may go to the bottom (tho } I hope better
things for her) how odd it seems to write of myself in the
feminine gender and her fate may only bring disgrace on my
name, as having tended to bring about such a catastrophe, but
nothing in the unroll'd scroll of the future, so long as that future
is passed by me in this state of being, can cheat me out of the
remembrance of that bright hour or two at Mattishall and in its
environs. There are few in my life that I have lived over again
with more delight.
60 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
... I only wish I had thee in the opposite chair, to take a pine)
out of the Royal George, or another as interesting a relic, stand
ing by me on the table, a plain wooden box, the original cost o
which might be 2/6 or 3/- but to me it has a worth passing
show, having been the working box and table companion o
Crabbe the poet. It was given me by his son and biographei
and I prize it far beyond a handsome silver one, Crabbe's dres
box, which I think his son told me he gave to Murray. But
must close this long and I fear tedious scribble. Take th;
revenge, and inflict a sheet as long on
Thy affectionate friend
B. BARTON
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
JUNE i, 1840
MY DEAR FRIEND
That I have used you exceedingly ill is so mud
the fact, that I have begun to feel quite callous and reckles
about it and that I may not grow quite hardened, since thi
mood has come upon me, I take up my pen at f past the eleventl
hour, or perhaps some minutes nearer the twelfth. FitzGerah
has been staying at Mattishall, and we plotted together to indit
unto you a joint epistle, but I find he has since performed hi
part separately, and taken an unfair advantage of our mutua
procrastination. I once wrote a joint epistle in the Spenseriar
Stanza to a friend at Newcastle : and I must say for the produc
tion that it might have been bound up with the latter cantos o
Don Juan, without any great difference being apparent. Bu -
the epistle you were threatened with would have been in prose
for three reasons. 1st because we are not bold enough to writt
in metre to a poet. 2nd because I am grown older, and rhimt
[sic] flows uneasily from me and lastly E. F. G. is too lazy tc
perpetrate so elaborate an absurdity. Should we either of us
dream a letter in verse you shall have the benefit of it.
I have been not long since to see Mr Trench. ... His seconc
volume has not sold so well as the former one. But Moxon SUM-
"books of a much more popular cast sell badly now," and
authorship of all kinds is at discount. This is the worse news
AI'.KAHAM CA>TRK>
BERNARD BARTON 61
inasmuch as the indifferent sale of one book retards the publi-
cation of others, and Trench is keeping back sundry translations
from the Spanish because he cannot vend his own originals.
We have some new neighbours at Yaxham Parsonage and very
good ones, as they come in and go out quietly and without such
impertinent ceremonies as asking one " how he does " or informing
him of the weather ! These are the Johnsons sons of the late
incumbent commonly called and known as Cowper's " Johnny ".
The youngest is alive to all manner of knowledge, and if he
will but learn to dance, or anything that conduces to give him
exercise, he will become a man in time of mark and likelihood. 1
The eldest is a most valuable parish minister, and an excellent
fellow, only somewhat unlucky in horse-flesh at his outset in life.
He has ridden a troop already, and is now mounted on the
baggage- waggon . 2
We have suspended a portrait in our dining-room that
excites FitzGerald's indignation. It is a respectable middle-
aged man, not quite, but nearly large enough for a Town Hall.
The original was remarkable, if the copy be true, for having
been at the great earthquake at Lisbon, for a perpetual smile,
for a hilly wig, between which you may walk over his forehead
into the nape of his neck, and thence down his pigtail into his
pockets, but more than all for having the forefinger of each
hand curved benevolently. Whether the said curvature was
caused by the earthquake, or whether, as it points downward, he
prophesyed it, are points which our family-history throws no
light upon. FitzGerald proposes his being altered into Moses,
and given to some church in want of a legislator, especially, if
at a London picture-broker's, we could pick up an old Aaron.
I am of opinion that by successive additions, judiciously made,
he might represent, one after another, all the heroes in Plutarch.
Mrs. Bodham is a good deal altered since you saw her, but
still is bravely for 92. Her principal disasters arise from always
1 Henry R. Vaughan Johnson, born 1820. Educated Sherborne and Trinity
College, Cambridge. Barrister one of the six conveyancing Council to the High
Court. Died 1900.
2 Rev. William Cowper Johnson, born 1813. Educated Sherborne and
Corpus Christi College, Cambridge; thirty-third Wrangler. Hon. Canon of
Norwich. Died 1893.
62 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
having lost something. I do not believe she has done five
minutes work of any kind for the last month from mere looking
for her implements, and when all are at last recovered, her
spectacles are conjured away, and her losses, so soon as they
are found again, recommence.
Have you seen any of De Quincey's l recent papers in Tait's
Magazine ? He is seemingly grown the most melancholy
spectacle in the universe a great intellect in ruins. He has
raked together all the idle tales and rumours that ever were
afloat in the most idle neighbourhood of Keswick and recorded
them in print. It is his pleasure to call them reminiscencies,
and he has remembered whatever will annoy the objects of his
recollections. Wordsworth comes off especially ill it is more
than hinted that he looks like a tailor which supposing his
head could be taken from his shoulders, and his profile begin
with his collar and cravat he perhaps does the head and front of
all this is, I suppose, that De Quincey has been standing still
since his " Opium Eater," while his early associates have steadily
attained a higher and more permanent reputation with every
year.
I have been persuaded with some ado to read " Nicholas
Nickleby ". A glance at an early number some time since in
which the atrocities at Mr. Squeers' Academy are detailed gave
me a dislike to it, and " Pickwick " was quite enough for one age
to have produced. I can read it always waking or asleep ; as
long as Touchstone could make rhimes. But Nicholas is I
admit of a "higher mood" both in description and in character-
drawing : though not so delicious as Pickwick. Mrs. Nickleby
is the most ideally foolish woman in history.
Do not mete to me the same measure 2 you have received
from me, but let me hear from you promptly.
Mrs. Donne and Mrs. Bod ham unite with me in best regards.
Yours very truly
W. BODHAM DONNE
1 Thomas de Quincey, 1785-1859. Author of Confessions of an Opium Eater
(1821); contributed "Reminiscences of the Lake Poets" to Tait's Magazine,
1834.
2 I mean in delaying to write don't interpret it of quantity.
R. C. TRENCH 63
SATURDAY
JUNE i
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
MY DEAR FRIEND,
Can you not put a little ratsbane in E. F. G.'s
toasted cheese not enough to make it fatal, but merely purgative.
He has used me vilely. First he takes me to task for using long
words, such as he says he does not understand ; and then when
I protest against being accused of affectation he defends himself by
saying that I am not so much affected as stupid. " Shall this
fellow live?" All authors are in danger from him, and should
unite against him. And you have such an opportunity as does
not fall to every one's lot of quieting him.
I hope your next letter will give a better account of Miss
Barton. She fared worse than an elderly gentleman in our
neighbourhood, who was caught in an humane mantrap, sat
clasped by the leg through two tempests ; was at last cheered
by the sight of a gamekeeper : which gamekeeper proved to have
no key with him for the trap, but had one at home nearly three
miles off: and while he went for it a pair of vipers, and a dog
whose sanity was doubtful, came close up to the elderly gentle-
man : and all this came of going into a wood !
Believe me, my dear friend, very truly yours
WILLIAM B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to R. C. Trench
JULY 14, 1840
MY DEAR TRENCH,
I am within a week or two of sending my MSS.
of my first and 2nd numbers to Mr. Coates. . . .
Certainly seeing one's first proof is not being in Paradise, and
hardly perhaps in Purgatory, so differently do MSS. sentences
run in MS. and in type : and the printers are always capricious,
sometimes it is all black Monday with them, and sometimes they
do not keep the Sabbath.
64 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
Vipan has been a short time in England : but he has met
with a new system of medical treatment in Germany, which
would make according to his account a sound man of Job
himself! This is the Wasser-cur. The patients drink of the
spring, sit under the spring, thrust hissing hot into the spring,
and walk about in the spring, until their skin peels off, and any
spare bones or excrescences they may have moult, and they go
forth into the world rejoicing in their youth. The part of the
theory however which I approve is, that you are encouraged to
eat much beef and mutton, and allowed to smoke. He (Vipan)
has written what when published will be a most beautiful History
of Greece, and it will prove him, what I have always maintained
him to be, one of the first living scholars.
Yr. affect, friend
W. B. DONNE
The following 13th December W. B. Donne writes again to
Trench.
I do not know how it is with you, I find that teaching the
rudiments of Latin, and arithmetic and such like branches of
learning, make my morning's leisure not worth an hour's pur-
chase. Yet what is to be done ? The boys must not be heathens,
and I am too poor to pay for schooling, and in addition to this
must be taken into account the irritation to the nerves, and the
interruption to continuous thought which teaching the young
idea produces.
i
Ye Bachelors of England
Who live and lie alone
How little do you know of
The things that make us groan
How little do you dream of
The worst of human ills
As you close at dinner's close
The sight of Christmas Bills.
There's Blakesley growing stout as
His padded elbow chair
And Spedding feels no doubt as
He lights his fresh cigar,
BERNARD BARTON
While we from whom the nation
Receives its fresh supplies
Are full of meditation
When Beef and Sugars rise
Then Bachelors of England
Who live so much at ease
Our many tribulations
Remember if you please
And if we live the longer
In spite of all our ills
Especially remember
The married in your wills.
CAMPBELL !
Kemble has been in great anxiety about his wife. She was
indeed hardly out of danger when I heard from him. He was at
the same time in constant attendance on his Father, whose state
is quite hopeless. It seems impossible for an Actor to retire
without dying. His brother did not live long after his profes-
sional exit. 1
Y r . affectionate friend
WILLIAM B. DONNE
The next letter refers to a curious old seal, an impression of
which Bernard Barton had sent to Mr. Donne. It was surrounded
by the motto " Jesus est amor meus ". " The stone or gem set in
the centre," says B. B., " is evidently of very old workmanship,
and seems to indicate as far as I can ' hazard a wide solution ' a
figure, offering to a little cur-ish imp, the oblation of a human
head."
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
JUNE 16, 1841
MY DEAR FRIEND,
My seal, which I quite agreed with thee in think-
ing to be curious rather than handsome, puzzles the knowing ones.
I went up to London this day fortnight to meet Lu [Lucy] on
her way out of Hampshire, and was lionized for two days, one
1 Charles Kemble did not die till 1854.
66 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
day before she came up, and one after her arrival, by my kind
friend and neighbour, 1 Major Moor. I always thought him
great at home, but he shines out in all his splendour when show-
ing a country friend the sights of London. He took me to the
National Gallery and the Exhibition, to see Hay don's great
picture of the Anti Slavery Convention of Delegates, and I know
not what else : and to crown the whole he took Lu and myself
home to his son-in-law's, William Woods, in Dean's Yard, West-
minster, where we dined with a live Parsee, a genuine Fire Wor-
shipper. Only fancy my daughter, an Evangelical Churchwoman,
and I a Quaker, sitting down to meat with an Idolater. And a
very acute, intelligent and pleasant sort of person he was too. His
name, if I have the luck to spell it aright, is " Mannochjee Curzette-
jee ". I dare not for the life of me attempt to address him by it ?
lest I should be guilty of pronounciatory defamation, so I begged to
have the pleasure of taking wine with my Parsee friend opposite.
Poor fellow ! he has the misfortune to be a Lion of the first class,
for the Season, and when he left us at ten, had to go to two
more great Parties, the last, I think, Lord Palmerston's. The
Major having done so much for my daughter and me, I was fain
to do what little I could for him, and finding he had not been
over Sir Francis Chantry's rooms, I availed myself of my old
acquaintance with Allan Cunningham to take him there with us
one morning. Allan gave us a hearty welcome, and shew [sic] us
over the suite of rooms, pointing all, most worth looking at, ex-
cept himself, as well worth knowing as aught there. I left my
old seal with the Major, himself a member of the Society of Anti-
quaries, to show to one or two of the knowing ones, but he has
brought home no very definite solution. Sir F. Palgrave says its
execution is that of a barbarous age, which I had guess'd before.
With the National Gallery, or rather, with many pictures in it,
I was much gratified. Many of them were of course familiar to
me from Engravings, but never before having seen Gallery or
Exhibition, I was much struck with the utter inadequacy of en-
graving to give one a true idea of the Painting copied. Form,
however faithfully transcribed, can give one no conception of the
1 Major Moor of Great Dealings. Author of The Hindu Pantheon, Suffolk
Words, Original Fragments, etc.
BERNARD BARTON (i7
effect produced by colour. I had always admired the prints from
Rubens's large Landscape " A Flemish Chateau," with a fine ex-
panse of level country stretching away into almost interminable
distance ; but when I stood before the Picture itself, I felt that
all my prior conceptions of it had been cold and lifeless. One
verv satisfactory discovery I have made, which is, that looking at
these first-rate Specimens of Art, in the manner at least which I
only could, two or three hours each day, does not at all lead me
to look with diminished pleasure at my own few and humbler
productions at home. On the contrary, I am not sure that I
have not sate and looked at my own poor little collection with
more of quiet enjoyment since my return than ever I did before.
I keep fancying I can detect (as one always may in any painting,
original or copied, which has genuine merit and truth in it, how-
ever humble) casual touches, gleams and tints, which recal to my
recollection what excited my delight and wonder, on a larger
scale, in Town. And then too, I can sit and look at my own,
un-elbow'd by a crowd, and undisturbed by the chatter, be it of
critics or vulgar gossips around ; and it's wonderful the differ-
ence this makes in the power of a painting to cast its whole spell
over you.
But my paper admonishes me that I must curtail my London
recollections, or reserve what more I may have to say to a future
time. Have you got Edward FitzGerald hid up in one of your
remoter apartments at M ? I know he is missing here, and
his Sisters, who called here to-day, insisted on it he was gone
from the Kerriches to you. He can tell thee all about Aldeburgh.
I believe he has a penchant for it almost amounting to "la
tendre ". So I have myself, but I am passionately fond of the
seaside anywhere, and it is the place I can get at easiest and go
to oftenest, so I have spent many happy hours there. I should
like you to come there of all things, as I could perhaps, once or
twice, if you stopp'd a month, get down on a Saturday night,
and spend a quiet Sunday there during your stay. Talk Edward
into going there with you. With kindest regards to all of the
House of Donne Mi's. Bodham specially included.
Thine truly
B. B.
68 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
W. B. Donn% to Bernard Barton
JULY 3RD, 1841
MY DEAR FRIEND,
You must serve me as Nebuchadnezzar threatened
to serve the magians who could not expound his vision, and,
when you have an opportunity, put me to death, for I am as
little able to expound your seal : neither have I yet lighted
upon a Daniel so you must keep your golden chain and your
scarlet robe, and the third place among the aldermen of Wood-
bridge in reserve until he appear. I "cannot even hazard a wide
solution ". The giant, if giant he be, seems to have committed
a highway robbery on the devil and then to be served with a sort
of phrenological brown study. Certes, if this be the interpreta-
tion thereof, the legend and the impress are much at variance.
Do you think it a great matter to sit down at meat with an
idolater ? Some years ago we had a real idolater living a month
in this house. Thomas Manning (Lamb's Manning) imported
him from China, and neither converted him during his stay, nor
required him to cut off his tail which was a yard long, and
twisted tight, nor his nails which were three inches long at least,
nor to leave off his paper shoes which were a foot high, nor, in
short, to do any Christian or gentlemanly thing whatsoever.
He taught me to conjure, and had I not been diligently watched
by my Mother, who was in some dread of his nails, his lessons
might have gone further, and I might have been a proficient in
the doctrines of F6h instead of Paley and Blair. Howbeit he
left behind him a Chinese Catechism. It has not however in-
fected my orthodoxy, since I confess myself unable to read it,
or rather to explain it. For the catechism is not verbal, and on
the interrogatory system ; but symbolic, and like Mr. Charles
Knight's publications, pictorial, consisting of heads and busts of
the five first emperors. If the Chinese worship them, they
certainly do not break the second commandment for the ugli-
ness of the five celestials is unlike any ugliness on the land, in
the water, or the air. It is worth your while coming to Mattis-
hall to see them. Nothing ever resembled them, except a late
prebendary of Norwich who was like the third head of the
Catechism. Your Parsee was, I take it, a much more sublime
.1. W. BLAKESLEV (i<)
affair ; and in some sort I am of his opinion, being a worshipper
of the fire and the sun at the proper seasons of the year.
I witnessed the other day a fine specimen of Saturnalia at
Norwich. The Freemen and Chartists having been defrauded of
their bribe and drink-money, by the compromise of the election,
very justly expressed their virtuous indignation by burlesquing
the return of Knights of the Shire in general. They chaired
with great ceremony a notorious beggar, and an idiot, the latter
in full regimentals representing the most noble Marquis Douro.
. . . About 500 of the great unwashed paraded the city for three
or four hours, and it was altogether thi> most lively satire on the
proper fate of that most ancient and rotten capital of Norfolk.
If E. F. G. is within your reach, pray tell him I was punctual
at twelve o'clock where he wots of. That I afterwards went to
various public houses, and finally before the mayor and into the
prisons in search of him, but I returned disconsolate, and the
very skies sympathised with me, and wetted me through. To
make matters worse I had in some measure been the cause of
my own disappointment, by putting him off coming the week
before.
Believe me ever
Your affectionate friend
WILLIAM B. DONNE
JULY 3RD
MATTISHALL, EAST DEREHAM
W. B. Donne to J. W. Blakesley
MATTISHALL, E. DEREHAM
NOVEMBER 2, 1841
MY DEAR BLAKESLEY,
A long Doctor by name Warcup walked up to
me not many days since and gave me your remembrances. From
which I inferred that you were at Cambridge, and that it would
become me to welcome your arrival.
After such an attack [scarlet fever] as we have had, we are
admonished that Mattishall is no place to winter in, and we have
great sympathies with Anglesey. The climate is praised by Sir
J. Clarke, and the Trenches live there : and we might thus com-
70 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
bine health and society. The cost of moving is the lion in the
path, and the lion's whelp is that I am fitted with books at
Norwich by the miraculous circumstance that the constructor of
the library foresaw a country-gentleman would arise in the latter
days, who would neglect his proper duties and turn to folly in
writing history and biography and provided accordingly. 1
E. F. G. (FitzGerald) has vanished from this side of the island,
and left his character to evil surmises. It is confidently affirmed
in Suffolk that he has accepted the office of Chief Constable of
Rural Police in one division of that county. I can discover no
other grounds for the rumour, than that he was seen in Beccles
market-place demeaning himself like an ancient watchman, i.e.,
dressed in a most venerable macintosh, and lounging and yawn-
ing extremely, near the principal Inn.
Remember me to Thompson and Merivale and
Believe me
Y r . sincere friend
W. B. DONNF
W. B. Donne to J. W. Blakesley
MATTISHALL, E. DEREHAM
FEB. 22, 1842
MY DEAR BLAKESLEY,
Although the confession can redound only to my
own confusion, I must admit that about a week ago I received
a lithograph of Trench, and that I am only now sitting down to
thank you for it. We are truly obliged by your gift, both for
the subject's sake and the givers. Laurence has a masterly
pencil and time will doubtless soften the asperity of his style
which gives, at least to the two drawings I have seen, more of
melancholy than I hope either Thompson or Trench exhibit in
their daily countenances.
I am told that last summer Arnold went to Spain to trace
Hannibal's march from Saguntum to the Rhone. This looks
well for his earnestness and for his book but so far as regards
myself it would have looked better had he been knocked on the
1 The library was the Literary Institution in St. Andrew's, Norwich, which
in 1846 became amalgamated with the Norfolk and Norwich Library.
RICHARD CHENEVIX TRENCH
J. M. KKMBLK 71
head by the Carlists or Christinos, as I then should have been, as
Mr. Fan-en says of himself "the only salmon in the market"
instead of being so long as he survives " overday fish ".
Y rs . ever sincerely
W. B. DONXK
J. M. Kemble to W. B. Donne
CHAPELFIELDS
5/ / 42
My sin is ever before me ! No doubt I, in common with others^
have behaved intolerably ill to you : and that no doubt, or the
thunder, is the reason, that I have at this moment a splitting
headache. How are you ? and how is your wife ? and how are
your Brats? and how are your Farmers? Send me a Norfolk
Paper, if your eloquence is reported. I should have liked
nothing better than to have come down and talked to your " Clay-
heads " but unluckily I could not. For some special sin or other,
of which I am totally unconscious, I have been delivered over
into the hands of a Mr. O. Blewitt, and am accordingly to officiate
as one of the Stewards at the Literary Fund Anniversary Dinner
on Wednesday the llth which besides costing me much money
will give me a great deal too much trouble. I have already
escaped it twice, and knew not how to get off the third time, I
had lied so enormously on the former occasions.
I had a letter from Vipan last week. He writes to know when
I will receive him in Surrey, prudently laying out his campaign
before he ventures into such inhospitable and barbarous regions.
He makes it a condition precedent, that Natalie shall not marry
him against his will, nor in his sleep, which she will find some diffi-
culty in refraining from. She drove him out of England last
year, by insisting upon what she calls the holy estate of matri-
mony. The Hydropathists have now thoroughly washed, and
wrung him out, that 1 hardly anticipate a readier recognition of
him than in Munich two or three years ago, when his Hungarian
moustache, and a kind of sword and sabredash swagger that he
had picked up among the Magyars, rendered him for a while m-
connoisable. After all I suspect it is quite as much the Pump
72 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
in my garden that he comes hither to visit, as myself. He is a
sort of Water-Ogre : he thirsts eternally like Dives in the Story
Book, and all his Classics have concentrated themselves in 'Apio-rov
pev 'TScop. Thales is the only sage he swears by : in his heart,
I suspect, he does not at all approve of the miracle at Cana
in Galilee. He came here in rainy weather when all the ditches
were full, and the roads puddly, and he forthwith pronounced
Surrey to be the only livable part of England. He took flight
from our Surrey beauties, but it was only because we could not
find one for him with a dropsy. Otherwise we might have
bagged him. However by all accounts, he is the better for his
washings, and if so, we must admit that the end justifies the
means. I shall ask to meet him a friend of mine who never
tasted water but once in his life and that was in some Brandy
and Water ; I should look for some fun from their contact ; though
probably like God Canopus, the waterman would put out his
adversary.
Y*. affect, friend
J. M. KEMBLE
W. B. Donne to R. C. Trench
MATTISHALL
JUNE 29, 42
MY DEAR TRENCH,
I have been awaiting the arrival of the accompany-
ing number of History to say how much I regretted my inability
to accept your challenge to meet you at the Sterling dinner. I
had appointed the week in which it took place for FitzGerald's
coming to us and having lost his visit last year by delaying it,
I would not defer it again. You have however to thank Mr.
Coates in some measure for my tardiness. He publishes in
April and sends me my own handiwork on the Biography 29th
June. Do you see the U. K. S., i.e., will you see it after Friday
next, when the first half- volume will be published. I hope it
will be more creditable to the contributors than A. Rose's similar
work, otherwise I will have done with biography as a bad style
of thing.
BERNARD BARTON 78
What a heavy blow on many accounts is Arnold's death.
Incredible that a man should die of angina pectoris without any
other warning than a vague presentiment (so it is rumoured at
Rugby) that he should not live beyond his next birthday, the
Monday after the Sunday he expired.
I cannot help thinking that you as well as myself had our
curiosity about Tennyson's new and old volumes somewhat blunted
by having previously seen several of the best poems in MSS.,
otherwise I marvel at your disappointment at his not having
entered upon and appropriated " some new domain of beauty ". I
have long had by me " King Arthur " or I should have exulted
in its pure epicism, and as for your not liking " Will Waterproof"
it crazes me. Dos't thou think because thou art virtuous there
shall be no more " cakes and ale " ? I trust one day to quarrel
out this matter, otherwise I would convert you by a comment
shewing its high philosophy.
We hope after all next week to reach the sea. Change of
air will alone quite rid the children of tendencies to feverish
colds, and I hope also give Mrs. Donne better appetite and
spirits.
When you come to Cambridge you must visit us if we tarry
here. "Justice Shallow will not have you excused." If we
migrate I hope it will be some whither nearer to Gosport, as
the " fugaces anni " slip away sadly without our meeting.
With best remembrances to Mrs. Trench,
Believe me affectionately yours
WILLIAM B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
MATTISHALL
JULY 4, 1842
MY DEAR FRIEND,
I have had E. F. G. for my guest a few days ; and,
what is better still, Mrs. Donne and myself have been to Gelde-
stone, and came away from it last Saturday full of pleasant
recollections of our visit. But our return was not altogether
propitious, for in coming out of Norwich our fore-wheel went
74 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
back to the city, while we were travelling ten-miles an hour to
the country. No worse consequence followed than exciting the
remarks of the market-carts, and a walk back to the inn. We
formed a procession Catharine and Charles forming the infantry,
the phaeton dragged by two blacksmiths, the pioneers and
baggage, and myself, leading the horse, the cavalry.
Three years ago I used to boast exemption from the accidents
of mortality so far as respected gigs, horses, &c. ; now I can say
with holy Paul twice have I been cast on the ground, once
kicked over, thrice, save once, thrown off' my horse, and once my
horse jumped into another man's carriage. We have taken a
house at Lowestoffe, and go thither on the 14th inst. It is in
your country, so that you are bound to come and see us. Nor
shall you need to take your ease in your inn, for we have a spare
room, and a summer-house where one may smoke. I intend to
make that summer-house as memorable for the composition of
Roman history as Gibbon's berceau and acacias ; I am afraid,
however, I shall not write the concluding sentence of my work in
it : a month will hardly do for a Punic war. By the by, though
you read not history, you have probably seen or heard of " Sewel's
History of Friends ". l I assure you I took as much interest some
weeks since in the account of George Fox as in all the " Kings
and Kaisers" put together. He waged and won a harder war
than Hannibal or Caesar : and although I am too much addicted
to pomp and vanity, or rather to ease and comfort ever to have
been his disciple, I can find no words to express my veneration
for him. ... If you have not met with it, I am sure your neigh-
bour the great abolitionist [Clarkson] has it, and will lend it you.
Next to Fox my favourite reading is Bancroft's "Story of the
Pilgrim-fathers" to America: their faith and calmness are
sublime : more so than some of Milton, and much of Words-
worth. Are not the greatest poems perhaps incapable of verse ?
Our children are better. Mowbray, who was the principal invalid,
will not indeed be well again without change of air, but his cough
and fever are subdued. Mrs. Bodham has quite recovered from
1 William Sewel, 1654-1720, Quaker historian. Author of History of the
Rise, Increase and Progress of the Christian People called Quakers (published in
Dutch, 1717, and in English, 1822).
BERNARD BARTON 75
her accident, and threatens to fall down on the next opportunity.
She is 94 on the 6th inst. and very contumacious for that age.
She seems to think outliving the Earl of Leicester a good prac-
tical joke ; in some measure because she is more shame for her
a Tory but principally because she entertains a traditionary
idea that he ruined the flavour of Norfolk mutton by introducing
the Southdown sheep, and seldom fails to throw it in his teeth,
or rather in his gums, whenever his name strikes on her auditory.
I h :ive now before me an order to write the lives of " Amandus
.Eneas Servius" and " Amatius". Giving these gentlemen the
credit of having been excellent persons in their day, I must, in
order to biographise them, ascertain who they were, when they
lived, and what they did to have their lives recordable. And
that I may ascertain these essential pieces of learning in good
time I must stop at the bottom of the third page, with best
remembrances to you from all at Mattishall.
Ever your's most truly
W. B. DONNE
IN RE "DONNE" A LUNATIC
A plain statement of a Lamentable case
A letter came by Friday's post, most legibly directed,
To " Lucy Barton, Mattishall" where, indeed, she was expected ;
But having then no news of her we kept the letter one day
Intending it should get by post to Baber on the Sunday.
To post the letter safely we thought we'd found a wise man
Though neither parson, doctor, churchwarden, nor exciseman ;
But such a man as any country-parish well may glory in
Commissioner of taxes, Squire, Justice, and Historian !
For speed we just as well might have a tortoise or a crab sent
Since, when he got to Norwich, this wise-acre proved absent :
And forgetting quite that Baber was the place the letter should reach
He sent it off, some sixty miles to " Bernard Barton Woodbridge".
MATTISHALL
AUGUST 31
76 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
MATTISHALL EAST DEREHAM
OCT. 23RD, 1842
MY DEAR FRIEND,
We are not ossified, nor entered as Sir Thomas
says, " into the famous habitations of the dead," and therefore
we have neither of these excuses for silence. Nor am I aware
that any other excuse can be assigned for it besides my own
laziness and procrastination. You are so good a correspondent
that I think it will be our wisdom who are not so, to accuse you
of some crime, and make the aldermen of Woodbridge send you
a cup of hemlock, that you may no longer second our conscience
by your just reproaches. "Dost thou think because thou are
virtuous," &c.
However I could not have sent you very welcome tidings,
had I written sooner, neither can I now. Catharine, who has
not been well since the scarlet fever, this time twelvemonths,
has been during the last month very ill. Inflammation of the
chest, spasmodic pain, spitting of blood are symptoms that there
is something serious the matter with the lungs, and though
somewhat alleviated they have not hitherto yielded to the
treatment prescribed. What makes the matter worse is that
we intended last month migrating to the South coast for the
winter and spring at least and now by this attack we are port-
bound until the bad-weather and shortening days. The children
are pretty well, but the prospect of cloudy skies and miry ways
is not in their favour. So if it is possible we shall still flit, though
M mas . [Michaelmas] is past. You must account to us for having
been to Gorlestone and not descended the river to Norwich, and
then to Mattishall. I take it for granted you have not been to
Baber. I spelt the word wrong in my poetry, but I thought
the place had been named after " the Great Mogul called Baber"
for if you have, there can be no question about the propriety
of a cup of hemlock. I wish excommunication were readier had
in these days, not so much on account of your having been to
Gorlestone, but on account of certain other of my friends who
affront me by silence not for weeks, but of whole periods of time
BERNARD BARTON 77
running on for Platonic years. Among the foremost offenders
is E. F. G. [FitzGerald] who has added perfidy to neglect. He
induced us to prefer Lowestoft by promise of coming thither.
He immediately went to Bedford, and since then has vanished.
I am afraid not into China or Cabul as there the punishment of
his sins might find him out. If he comes in your way apprehend
him. You may do it legally thus. Swear a debt above the
value of 5 against him, and take out a detainder. You may
then lodge him in gaol, till I come. You may well do it since
you have had sundry dealings in pictures with him.
I met two ancient ladies the other day who as befits their
date and appearance are making a sort of antiquarian tour in
this county. They questioned me as to what was worth seeing
at Dereham. Cowper's monument was too modern for them,
but the mention of three arches of the vanished tomb of Saint
Withburga inspired them with great joy and curiosity. Now
these arches are below the level of the graves in the Churchyard,
and over a spring so icy cold that even in the dog-days you
come out a snow-ball. I am confident that if they visited the
bath they remain there, and I look forward to presenting the
Norwich Museum with two splendid petrifactions.
With united best remembrances to Miss Barton,
Believe me
Ever affectionately thine
WILLIAM B. DONM
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
1843
MY DEAR FRIEND,
The sight of your handwriting gave my conscience
a few twinges, as I am certainly in your debt. Mr. Gurdon
seems to have withheld the little knowledge he possessed of me
and mine in order that he might leave me without excuse for
my long silence. My wife since May has been extremely ill,
confined to the house, often to her room, and utterly reduced in
strength. ... I had formed a plan had circumstances been more
favorable, of making in my phaeton with my eldest boy a sort
of coasting tour to Aldborough this summer. And on returning
78 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
from Aldborough I should have looked in at Woodbridge and
seen with my own eyes your pictures and yourself. But this,
which would be to me a real treat, must be reserved for happier
times. In return for this unrealised purpose you can do no
less than visit Bawburgh (pronounced Baber) " before the fields
are dank and ways are mire," which would enable you at the
same time to visit Mattishall. I had lost sight of FitzGerald
for some months till your letter yesterday in-formed me that
he had neither met with the fate of Lycidas in crossing the
channel, nor been devoured by O'Connell, nor tossed by an
Irish Bull. He haunts the same places at similar seasons of
the year with the regularity of a plant or a ghost. Hence
I look for his revolving to Geldeston in a few weeks, and
swimming as Keats says, into my ken. Your picture on boards
reminds me that some years since I nearly committed a very
pretty piece of sacrilege. In the church at Castle Acre is a
Pew pannelled with portraits of the Apostles in lively colours,
and very curiously delineated. The clergyman, a sort of hedge-
priest, would have sold them for a dozen of Geneva, had not
an officious churchwarden reminded him that, although he was
a successor of the Apostles, they were not therefore his to sell,
and my bargain fell to the ground. Varnisht and vamped up
I am somewhat of a picture-cleaner and can disguise stolen
goods they would have made a gallant show. But it is
perhaps as well I did not buy the said Apostles as I might
have been hanged or put into the Spiritual Courts. . . .
Catharine unites with me in best remembrances to Miss
Barton and yourself.
Ever yours truly
WILLIAM B. DONNE
The year 1843 ended sadly for William Donne, for his much-
loved wife, who had l>een ailing all the year, became rapidly
worse, and died on 7th December, leaving him, at the age of
thirty-six, with the care of five young children, and his aunt Mrs.
Hod ham, who was ninety-five years old.
In January, 1844, W. B. Donne took his son Charles to see
his old friends Trench, Kemble and others, as will be seen in the
following letters.
BERNARD BARTON 79
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
MATTISHALL, EAST DEREHAM
FEBRUARY 5, 1844
MY DEAR BARTON,
Your last kind letter has been too long unanswered,
but I am not the less grateful to you for its kindness. When
one is moving about as I have been during the last month, days
slip away and one readily imagines that there is no time for
letter- writing. I have however frequently remembered my debt
to you, and I have been rather dreading the apparition of your
hand-writing to inquire the cause of my silence. I have been
drifting about by the aid of fire and water in sundry shires : been
across the sea to the Isle of Wight, where I was fourteen years
ago much happier than I ever shall be again in this life : been at
Brighton ; been on board the St. Vincent monster of 120 guns:
been in London in the Chinese exhibition which makes me doubt
whether they or we are barbarians ; been in the heart of printer's
devildom in Red Lion Court which makes " gloomy Dis " no fable,
and now I am here doing my best not to forget the past for all
of the past I wish to remember, but to make the best of the
present. Charles was my travelling companion most part of the
time, and his journey has benefited him bodily and mentally.
Yes, my dear friend, you are quite right in saying that my
dear departed Catharine was one to be loved even at first sight.
How much she was to be loved is known only to myself whose
affection for her began with our childhood. Her ill -health was
the only drawback to as perfectly a happy union as was ever
known on this earth : and even ill-health developed qualities in
her which unbroken happiness might have concealed.
I found my children all well, our friends and neighbours had
made the last month a season of change and relaxation also to
them, and my good mother took excellent care of the youngest.
We are now resuming our daily occupations but this return
hither, and being here is and will long be a heavy trial.
Give my best respects to Miss Barton and believe me ever
Most truly yours
W. B. DOXXE
Regards to E. F. G. if still within your reach. He tells me
your toasted cheese is the envy of Wood bridge.
80 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDOE
MARCH 21, 1844
MY DEAR FRIEND,
I cannot, for the life of me, recollect, with any
sort of conviction to myself, whether I have or not thanked thee
for a letter I received from thee soon after thy return home,
giving me an account of where thou hadst been, and how, as well
as divers and sundry things and places thou hadst seen, and con-
cluding with some allusion to the toasted cheese suppers of
Edward and myself as the envy of all Woodbridge. In a common
way I should say it was quite impossible such a letter could have
remain'd unanswered by me a week, but some weeks ago I had
an attack of lumbago which made me glad to recline on the sofa
as soon as ever I got away from the Bank Desk, and this put
letter- writing out of the question for one fortnight. . . . Enough
however, and more than enough of a sick man's babble. Edward
FitzGerald has been a kind and frequent dropper-in, and his
calls have been most acceptable. He has been ruralizing at the
Cottage, and is now as busy as need be laying out his cottage
garden, but he talks of running away soon for a short visit to
Town as Thackeray is come there for a brief sojourn from Paris,
and Edward says he must run up to see him. I try to hope,
however, even if it be hoping against hope, which is desperate
hard work, that the interest he has lately shown for his cottage
nook may not cease when he has improved his garden, and the
coming Spring shall have added to its attractions, for I am sure
having done the penance forte et dure of habiting there in
February and March, he has earned the pleasure of being its
inmate when it really looks lovely in May and June.
John FitzGerald and his new wife (I mean Edward's brother,
not his father) are j ust now inmates of the Hall, and John is giving
at our theatre here a series of Lectures on the Prophecies every
Tuesday and Friday evening to most overflowing audiences. I
have not been to hear him, but Lu has, and makes a favorable
report of his manner and matter, though not always agreeing with
him. But I suspect my poor dear Lu has a bee in her bonnet,
to borrow a Scotch phrase, touching the literal interpretation
BERNARD BARTON 81
of Prophecy, and divers elysian crochets on the subject of the
Millennium, and the personal reign of Christ on earth, in which
I cannot fully sympathise ; so that I opine John's Lectures would
not please me, even so far as they do her. . . .
With dear love
Believe me
Ever affectionately thine
B. B.
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
MATTISHALL, EAST DEREHAM
JUNE 17, 1844
MY DEAR BARTON,
You wrote to me twice because you were doubtful
whether you had written at all, and I have not written once
without any doubts about the matter. I trust however that
during my silence you have lost the lumbago, and can leap and
dance at need as well as usual. For myself I have been for some
weeks past a dweller in chaos, not that I have descended into the
abyss, or gone into any unfinished planet but chaos has come to
me. My stack of chimnies, upon which the house mainly rests,
gave unequivocal signs of wishing to come down a story, and
expressed their wish once so very explicitly that I had no choice
left but to send my children to Norwich, and to unroof, and dis-
cover why the chimney so behaved itself. Having secured our
lives it was next necessary to ornament them. So I have had
painters and colourers and carpenters and smiths and have sat
among them in great discomfort stifled with dust, deafened
with noise, over-run with spiders, smelling of turpentine, and
sprayed with whitewash. We could not cook, for the stove was
down ; we could not brew for the copper was not up. Accord-
ingly our meat was " sodden after the manner of the Egyptians,"
and our drink would have been beer had there been any malt in
it. At length everything is once more in its right place, and I
live to tell thee.
I will take care to keep my house in order for some time to
come, as it is enough for once in a life to have been so exinter-
ated and annoyed. Are you parched up with drought in Suffolk
82 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
as we in Norfolk ? The farmers may carry their hay this year
in wheel -barrows, or in their pockets, and thatch the stacks with
an old hat. Happy is the man who, like myself just now, has
no horse. That I have none is in some measure owing to the
village of Baber. For having a far-travelled friend with me I
said to him one morning in April, " Go to. I will show you a
German hamlet." And after we had seen the hill and the river
and the valley of Baber my horse fell prostrate and demolished
his knees and his nose so effectually, that I was glad to nurse
him up for Swaftham fair, and take what I could get for him.
Then I sold my carriage and harness, and now as the bankrupt
gentleman said when he laid down his chariot, " I am on my legs
again ". And being on my legs I have taken sundry long walks,
and been doubtless deemed a vagrant, instead of being a com-
mitter of vagrants to durance.
Mrs. Fisher's theatres have of late met with sundry fates,
some being converted into breweries, and one at Bungay sold
under a sheriffs writ. But the Woodbridge conversion of a
Play-house into a house for the exposition of the Prophecies is
the most remarkable diversion of a building from its original
destiny I have ever heard or read of. Irving proved more than
he dreamt of when he showed in the Morning watch that the
Apocalypse was a Drama in seven acts, and that Jeremiah was
a dramatic dialogue with lyrical choruses. I am afraid Miss
Barton will consider me a profane person, nevertheless I send
her my best respects. We are all well and I am
Ever yours most truly
WILLIAM B. DONNE
J. M. Kemble to W. B. Donne
CHAPELFIELDS, SURREY
2/9/44 [sic]
MY DEAR WILLIAM,
We have been shut up by snow ever since you were
here, till the day before yesterday. Even now a " monster-snow-
ball " compacted by the children and my men defies the sun, tho
it yields slowly round the circumference, and to the great sur-
prise of the young ones becomes rounder as it becomes smaller.
What the d has the snow to do with thee and me ?
.1. M. KEMBLK 83
This you said learned things about clay bricks at which
my ears pricked up. But before I can do anything with them, I
must have such details from you as will enable me to set my
brickmakers to work. What size are they ? How long do
they take making? How long drying? Must the clay be
ground in a Mill ? Must the straw be cut very short ? When
set up is any mortar used, and of what is it made ? Is there
any advantage gained by putting hieroglyphics and sacred
signs upon the bricks, beyond the fun of puzzling future anti-
quarians ? or will these, like the mystical signs of the Norwich fire
insurance Office, prevent houses from being burnt down ? Is it
safe to put Woden's mark on the bricks ? or rather as Thor's
is a cross might one not perhaps succeed in doing both God's
and Men by adopting that ? Are there any Egyptians ? On
all these points I want advice. On the last I have thought
of consulting Sterling, since your last report of his state of
mind, only I fear he does not know Egyptians from Gypsies.
John Edward Taylor 1 tells me that you are to return to
London about this time. If this be true, I hope you will so
manage your matters as to let us see a little more of the light of
your countenance at Addlestone. The good you do me by such
a rubbing up of one's interest in one's own pursuits is not to be
described. I have gone to work with such vigor since you gave
me a fresh fillip, that I have actually disinterred the dates of
half a dozen bishops whom I never could catch before, and in so
far have not only greatly improved my Fasti Episcopales, but
have helped the Apostolical Succession, which I hope will be duly
recorded in my favor, when time and place shall serve. Joking
apart, I have taken up the charters again with renewed interest,
and have succeeded in clearing away some difficulties which lay
in my way : for a clue to one name is often the key to a whole
class of documents, and that is no small gain where everything
depends upon accuracy and the genuineness of documents.
Y r . affectionate friend
J. M. KEMBLE
1 John Edward Taylor, 1791-1844. Founder of the Manchester Guardian,
1821.
84 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
W. B. Donne to R. C. Trench
MATTISHALL, E. DEREHAM
SEPT. 6, 1844
MY DEAR TRENCH,
Should you ever write to John Sterling again
assure him of my sincere love and reverence for him, I owe also
much to him, which will always abide with me.
If you see our Review, you will find in the midsummer
number a feeble expression of my admiration of his " Strafford ".
Alas ! how few of the gifted men whom we have known seem
destined to leave any KTrj/ji eVaet, and Sterling was one whose
fame, apparently might have been safely predicted. This seems
an idle regret in comparison with the great realities which are
now hourly perhaps opening upon our dear friend, yet to the sur-
vivors it is not idle, since they may justly lament that his children
do not inherit a wide reputation, and that the world has had only
a glimmer of the strong genius which he possessed. For myself
I feel as if I could neither truly joy, nor mourn again yet I am
in good health and with my usual stock of superficial spirits.
I believe after much enquiry and vexation I shall send
Charles for at least a few months to a clergyman near Norwich.
I hear a high character of Mr. Calvert, as a gentleman and a
scholar. I shall still for a while tutorise the two younger boys,
as I cannot run away from my poor helpless relations here, nor
turn them over to my Mother, who has dependent nephews and
nieces to care for. Charles however wants companions to en-
courage and discipline his naturally bold and active habits, for
although a decent tutor, I am not a good companion in climbing,
jumping, and riding, and I begin to think he might take harm
by being too much with me. ... In a year my circumstances may
have totally changed, and I be able myself to accompany him
and his brothers to a real public school, a plan to which I cling
still tenaciously.
I am happy to say that my dear Blanche is well and comfort-
able at Mrs. Chapman's, at Norwich, and from all I see I do not
think that I could have placed her better, and if Charles proves
to be as well planted, I shall feel quite easy about him. Thank
BERNARD BARTON 85
God they are all well inclined and this year have been unusually
healthy.
Time goes so fast with me, that on Sunday last I had some
excellent advice from a gentleman in full orders, who on my first
acquaintance with him had no breeches on, and who has fre-
quently ridden on my shoulders sansculotte from Thornham St.
Martin's to Thornham St. Mary's. I do not know that I have
ever been more deeply impressed by any book than by the Life
of Arnold. Making all allowance to myself for bias towards
some of his opinions, I am sure that veneration for the man is
healthy and legitimate. It illustrates the difference between
character and talents. The will was remarkable in Arnold, it
fashioned and developed the intellect and this is the proper
relation of the two gifts but in the biographies of most men,
the character is evidently modified by the talents, the will is
secondary to the intellect. Arnold was most emphatically
manly-minded. He needs none of the ordinary allowances for
imperfection. His political opinions were not partial, his liter-
ary sympathies were not coloured by the age in which he lived
nor by the authors with whom he most conversed. He sacrificed
nothing to self, to ambition, to reputation. He has rescued the
office of school-Master from opprobium for ever. He has elevated
the functions of the controversialist and he has revived the simple
dignity of Thucydides and Sallust. His pamphlets may become
obsolete, his history be superseded, but he has transmitted this
imperishable truth, that the government of a school is in fact
the government of a nation, and that boy-nature in its narrower
sphere must be trained by the same process as man-nature, if it
is to be made capable of great thoughts and good deeds.
Ever y rs . affectionately
W. B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
MATTISHALL, EAST DEREHAM
OCTOBER 2isT, [1844]
MY DEAR FRIEND,
In your last letter to me you expressed, or you
pretended, great pleasure in^the receipt of a letter from Mattis-
86 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
hall. Putting down two thirds of such pleasure to the credit-
side of your good nature, I begin to think it possible that you
may like to hear from me again. And, after all, your principle
is a very sound one : for it is a great mortification not to receive
a letter daily by the post. I had rather have a bill than no
letter ; for even a bill keeps up your credit with the office as a
receiver of many letters and it remains at your option to pay it.
I am j ust now in great perplexity. We have in our hundred
of Mitford a foolish society for rewarding the industrious poor.
Now in the first place the reward is wrong placed. We re-
munerate labour but we want employment : and therefore it
ought to be a society of the poor for rewarding the employers
according to the plenty and rate of work. In the next place
we reward people for bringing up the greatest number of
children, whereas we ought to repay those who rear the fewest.
These societies are an insult to common sense. But my per-
plexity is this. I am to preside, and distribute the prizes and
preach the sermon. Now our Society is unluckily one of the
latest, and every week the county newspapers teem with reports
of similar meetings, and of similar sermons encouraging the poor
to labour and the rich to employ. Every moral and theological
is therefore forestalled ; and, what is worse, this is my second
presidency, and I have anticipated myself. It strikes me, how-
ever, that you may assist me, and be my "Magnus Apollo" on
the occasion. The addresses are mostly rather prosy : why not
try to exhort the poor in verse ; and if so, why may not a poet
help me. The method of address is the following ; the poor
candidates are called up and individually eulogised ; and at the
end there is a general exhortation to " temperance, soberness, and
chastity " as the catechism i.e., not yours, but mine, hath it.
I think it would be a novel feature in the proceedings to speak
somewhat in the following strain.
" Hiram Smith I do herewith present you with a crown piece
For rearing in your own back-yard a couple of your own geese.
Jonas Rump you with the hump come here and take your money
A sovereign is awarded you for never tasting honey.
Rump, like your bees you sweat and freeze and others reap your labour ;
So with your station be content, my very worthy neighbour.
R. C. TRENCH 87
Henry More afflicted sore of late with corns and bunions,
Has grown upon a rood of land a hundredweight of onions ;
It does appear, that, for next year, you've plenty of bread sauce, man.
You'll let your landlord's game alone for all next year of course, man,
Elijah Wigg your fattest pig is quite beyond rewarding
But for your next, a sovereign I now am you awarding;
How comes it Wigg, you fat your pig, and are yourself so thin, man,
What I would do, if/ were you, I'd with myself begin, man ;
Eat bacon once in six weeks and your wife she'd mend your tackling,
You pinch yourself to fat your hams, your sausages and crackling."
I think this is a very hopeful project, and I depend on your
assistance.
With best remembrances to Miss Barton,
I am ever yours affectionately
WILLIAM B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to R. C. Trench
MATTISHALL, E. DEREHAM
NOVEMBER 10, 1844
MY DEAR TRENCH,
Your last letter affords me the truest pleasure.
May you and Mrs. Trench enjoy many many years of health,
happiness and usefulness, in your new residence [Itchenstoke,
Hants], I can understand some reluctance in you to quit your
present neighbourhood, and on first reading your letter I thought
that it would indeed be a severance of your Hampshire ties.
For you wrote Hampshire so legibly that I read it North Stafford-
shire, then my etymology began to wonder what lichen could
do in the Markland and I consulted Lewis's topography, and
by his aid discovered the true reading. You will not I imagine
have more than thirty miles to move, and you will be near the
railroad. You really however merit to remain a curate durante
vita for your discontent. You complain of having only 300
parishioners. Had you been appointed Colonel of a Regiment,
you might murmur at having incomplete companies and might
quote Frederick's dictum that " Providence favors large bat-
talions ". But I am yet to learn that Providence favours large
parishes : and be assured that, while here and there may be as
88 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
good parochial priests as your reverence, there is none who profits
the church more by his pen.
Y r . affectionate friend
W. B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to Frederick Trench
MATTISHALL
DEC. 23, 1844
MY DEAR FREDERIC,
I have sent to Mr. Moxon's a small parcel for
you, and the next time your Papa has any books from him,
I have no doubt he will send your parcel too. It contains a
Bible, but you are not to regard it as a gift from me although
I send it to you. You must look at it as a present from one,
who is now no longer living, from one whom you never saw, from
your deceased Godmamma.
She meant to have made you a present, and I have chosen
a Bible for you, because I think it is the present she would
have wished you to have. I doubt not you have a nice Bible
of your own ; I am sure, whether you have one or no, that you
hear and read in the Bible every day. God has given you
parents who know the worth, and meaning of His Word, and
that it was written to be a light to your feet and a lamp unto
your paths : and because every day you need such a Lamp,
and such a Light to keep you from stumbling, and falling in
your walk through this world; therefore I know you learn
something from your Bible daily.
Now you will perhaps say, why, if I knew you had a Bible,
did I not send you some other book? I will tell you why,
and if I write anything you do not quite understand, your Papa
or Mamma will I daresay explain it to you. I could not ask
you to remember your late Godmamma, but I can ask you to
bear in mind that, she every day read in her Bible, and guided
herself by it, and although it pleased God to try her even from
very early years with many trials, and to make the last years
of her life painful and heavy, and although long before she
died, she felt she must leave her children while they needed
BERNARD BARTON 89
all her care and love, yet she never murmured nor repined but
was always patient in sickness and in sorrow, and always believed
what was hard to bear and sad to think of, was sent in mercy ;
and so she was thankful even for puin, and good and kind
to all about her, and cheerful although she long lived in great
suffering, and at last when God called her away from this world
she was able to say with her latest breath that her Saviour was
present with her and supported her in those painful moments
when the soul was parting from the body ; and all this strength
and patience and goodness in weakness and pain and trial was
given your God mamma because she knew and believed what
God taught her in His Word the Bible, about His Son Jesus
Christ, and about His Holy Spirit, and about Life, and death,
and resurrection from the dead and so I have sent you this
book that you may sometimes think of your Godmama and
remember what I have told you of her, and I pray you while
you are young lay these things to heart, that so when you are
older, if God (as I trust) will grant you length of days, you
may look back on your past life, with little fear, upon your
remaining days with much hope. Beginning, continuing, and
ending in the fear of the Lord.
My dear Frederic I shall always love all your brothers and
sisters well, for your parents sake and for their own, but perhaps
I may love you rather the most, on account of your Godmama.
Give my love and best wishes for the coming year to your
Papa and Mama and your Brothers and Sisters and
Believe me
My dear Frederic
Your faithful and affectionate friend
WILLIAM BODHAM DONNE
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
MATTISHALL, EAST DEREHAM
JANUARY 16, 1845
MY DEAR BARTON,
" Man is a noble animal, solemnizing nativities and
deaths with equal lustre, nor omitting ceremonies of bravery &c.".
What Sir Thomas here affirms of the species generally, may
90 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
be just now applied to me individually. I am "a noble
animal not omitting ceremonies of bravery" on occasions of
Marriage.
My cousin, John Johnson, 1 second son of " Johnnie of Nor-
folk" of happy memory, was married yesterday, and we cele-
brated the event with no ordinary ceremonies.
The marriage was at Catton near Norwich ; but the bravery
was at Mattishall. The Bridegroom, as the legacy of his
bachelorhood, bequeathed a trust to the school children of his
parish of Welbourne. As he had lodged in a farm house of
mine at Mattishall, which contained a spacious kitchen, the
ceremonies were held in this parish.
I performed offices seemingly incongruous, but in acts recon-
cileable with one another. Great occasions call forth latent
capabilities; a little sous-lieutenant of the military school at
Brienne became in a few years the greatest legislator in Europe.
I am not sure that under more favorable circumstances I
might have not been a first-rate butler or dancing-master. I
handed round sausage rolls. I poured out scalding tea into
mugs and cups of various shapes and dimensions. Some of them
were evidently made before Josiah Wedgewood was born. I
preached a sermon. I listened to Watts' hymns. I danced a
brawl, not altogether with the personal advantages of Sir
Christopher Hatton, 2 who did the like,
When he had fifty winter's o'er him
My grave Lord Keeper led the brawls,
The seals and maces danced before him.
His bushy beard and shoe-strings green
His highcrovned hat and satin doublet, &c., &c.
Now I have neither seals nor maces, nor green shoe-strings,
nor high-crowned hat. But then as Sir Christopher was Lord
Keeper, so am I a Justice of the peace and quorum, and my
beard is reasonably bushy, and I have a satin waistcoat, and
J John Barham Johnson, married I5th January, 1845, to Anna Morse, daughter
of George Morse, Catton Hall, Norwich. Second son of Rev. John Johnson,
LL.D., Rector of Yaxham and Welborne. Born 1818. Educated Corpus Christi
College, Cambridge. Rector of Welborne, 1845-1883. Died 1894.
3 Sir Christopher Hatton attracted Queen Elizabeth's notice by his graceful
dancing. Made Lord Chancellor, 1587. Author of Tancred and Sigismunda.
Died 1591.
BERNARD BARTON <)1
which is best of all, I am not fifty years old. Then I played
at Blind man's buff, bell the cat, hot-cockles ; I flew a kite,
presided over foot-races, hare and hounds, and scrambling for
apples, and like Job's messengers, " I am left alive to tell thee ".
... I must not forget however our music. We had two pipers :
and I think if one of them had whistled, and the other blown
his nose all the time for the bass, their melody would have been
equally good.
Ever yours affectionately
WILLIAM B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
MARCH IITH, 1845
MY DEAR BARTON,
This is the day of which I said to myself before it
came "On the llth of March I will write to Barton on Church-
matters ". And now a hundred causes prevent my fulfilling my
purpose properly. I have a new pair of shoes on, which hurt
me ; my stock is rather too deep ; I have been robbed of a piece
of salt pork ; the collector has come for the Poor's Rate ; I am
summoned to a jury; my dinner digests ill; my flesh creeps;
(dont you know the feeling?) my thoughts run on senna and
castor oil ; the stairs and the hall have been washed to-day ; I
am short of snuff; also of ink ; I am too warm, but I cannot
move my chair ; I am to dine with some farmers to-morrow, and
must smoke their tobacco, having none of my own. I am in a
moral torpor indifferent to either vice or virtue, I cannot clearly
bring to mind the difference between Supra-lapsarians and
Rechabites, nor remember whether Luther lived before or after
Horace Walpole. You must therefore pay no attention to any
thing I write.
It seems to me, in my torpitude, that the question so long-
agitated, has through the violence of some, the ignorance of
others, and the indecision of the Heads of our Church, resolved
itself into a point for the laity to settle, as they did in 1641, by
their representations in Parliament. Literal compliance with
the Rubric would make a multitude of Church-goers dissent, and
would lead the clergy who so complied into the perilous fallacy
92 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
of taking the accidental form for the substance. Yet on the
O
other hand a clergyman is by his ordination vows and by the
articles he subscribes bound to follow out this rubric, and our
Bishop is clearly wrong in saying that he is not. . . .
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
MARCH 23, 1845
MY DEAR FRIEND,
Edward [FitzGerald] continues at the Cottage.
The day before yesterday being a fine Good Friday, I waded
through two miles of mud and melted or melting snow to get at
him, and finding him luckily at home at half past twelve stopt
with him till past six in the evening. He called a council with
his old Dame of the Cottage, at which I assisted, as to what
could be done on such an emergency about dinner, and we fared
superbly boiled salt-fish and egg sauce, with a roast wild-duck.
Edward, being orthodox, stuck to the salt-fish, I, more lax,
attacking the wild-fowl. The day passed pleasantly enough.
Since I began this, and just before our tea-time Edward has
dropt in, but is now gone to the evening service. His Boulge
Parson being ill, they had no service there to-day, so E. felt in
degree bound to go to church once somewhere. I hope our
Woodbridge clerical will not keep him very late, but he will
sleep here, so we must sit up half an hour later to make up for
it if he should.
I fear we shall hardly keep our pleasant neighbour much
longer in this vicinity. He is a vast acquisition to me as an
occasional dropper-in as poor Lamb was wont to say
" The sky does not drop such larks every day ".
Thine B. B.
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
MATTISHALL, EAST DEREHAM
SEPTEMBER i8TH, [1845]
MY DEAR BARTON,
Your last letter to E. F. G. closed with the grave
accusation of my owing you " many letters ".
KKRNARD BARTON 9JJ
The d 1 is said to be painted worse than he is, and you
have reversed the injustice of the steward and put many instead
of two in your bill. " I own the soft impeachment " and this
one shall serve for payment.
At J past twelve on the night of August 16th, 1845, who
do you think was passing through Woodbridge outside the
Yarmouth mail ? Among others was 7 myself, but had I known
your door, and had there been time, I should hardly have cared
to knock at it at such an hour lest you should have replied by
your yard-dog or your blunderbuss. I believe the last time I
wrote to you, I had been celebrating a wedding in low life on
the Yarmouth mail I was returning from one in high-life 1 or at
least where champagne and pine-apples were in place of cakes
and ale. We did not dance, or play blindman's buff this time:
our pleasures were more decorous : chiefly confined to wearing
our best clothes and eating and drinking. So there is not, as
there was before, room or cause for any description of braveries :
but as I was in some sort the bridegroom's papa for the nonce,
turn to your Nicholas Nickleby, and see how Mr. Vincent
Crummies demeaned himself on a similar occasion, and you will
have some idea of my demeanour on this.
But whither was I returning on the Yarmouth mail ? I
was returning a visit, and on my way to Colchester. There it
was my hap to fall in with a set of sporting men who mounted
me a-horseback, confronted me with hounds, initiated me in
farriery, and, what I relished most of all, furnished me with
excellent cigars. After the labours of the day, which amounted
to about 12 hours hard exercise and to say the truth not
without excellent provender both moist and dry we used to
adjourn to a metaphysical surgeon's to smoke, and one night I
discoursed upon the apostolical succession till near dawn. I led
a week of this disorderly life, and my liver apparently developed
new functions, as my digestion ever since has been admirable.
And besides this I have been gadding about in the Eastern
counties very extensively. The cause of this unusual locomo-
tiveness is that my home-party is unusually small, and I could
leave its members without much anxiety. My long arrear of
1 J. W. Blakesley was married to Miss Holmes isth August, 1845.
94 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
visits is now nearly paid : but I am still indebted to E. F. G.,
and my next journey will be probably to Boulge, and then we
may shake hands without any fear of guns on my part or of
thieves on yours. It would have been queer intelligence for the
Woodbridge Chronicle that " a genteely drest man, name un-
known, was this morning found shot in front of our worthy
fellow-townsman's door &c. &c. ".
Ever yours truly
WILLIAM B. DONXK
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
DECEMBER 20, 1845
MY DEAR FRIEND,
Edward FitzGerald tells me I owe thee a letter !
The thing is to me so incredible that a note of admiration puts
itself on my paper almost of its own accord. That I, who am so
famous for my epistolary persecutions that folks are half afraid
to write to me, lest they should be all but inundated by my
responses should have owed thee a letter I know not how long,
does appear to me wonderful : for I really set no common value
on thy letters ergo, my neglecting the most obvious way of
obtaining one, seems to me next to an impossibility.
However facts are stubborn things, and as thou hast asserted
this for one, and Edward reports it as such, so I suppose it must
be. But there has been such a formidable hiatus in our corre-
spondence, I cannot now recollect when or where we left off.
We have interchanged epistles, I think since the Heptarchy, but
not since the Revolution. I refer not to that when Jamie had
to cut and run, or to that of France, but to the more recent Re-
volution in our own Cabinet at home. . . .
I have of late years exchanged politics for poetry, and made
my last appearance in the character of a Rhymer, as the inditer
of a Tome of quiet quakerly rhymes entitled " Household
Verses," to be read, not sung, to the tune of the Urn on the
table, or the Kettle on the hob, as my readers or auditors might
be more or less genteel, as the phrase goes. I must I think have
written to thee about these while my mountain of a brain was
HKUNAHl) BARTON 1)3
in labour with said Mouse and I am not sure that I have not
now and then silently marvelled thou hadst never either con-
gratulated or condoled with me thereupon. Truth to say, I
might have challenged both. The " Athenaeum " has given me
a good word. A paper called "The Critic," one of mingled pity
and contempt. The " Newcastle Courant " thinks me all but
incomparable. The " Morning Post " taxes me with want of
humour, truth, and an offensive humility, and last not least, one
of our Quaker organs of criticism writes hard sayings to my dis-
advantage : for calling the Site of a ruined Chapel, hallowed
ground : for having called the first Day of the week the Sab-
bath : for having now and then used the Heathen names of the
months in my verses, and for having actually spoken in terms of
commendation of Burns. Said I not right in styling myself a
man to be congratulated, or to be condoled with ? But thou
hast done neither. So I will do neither by thy Speech, 1
Lecture, or Address, of which I have heard a good deal, but not
read a word ; good reason why, because I could nowhere procure
a copy of the paper in which I heard it was printed, and a Friend
of mine, who promised to get me one, wrote me word the day
before yesterday, his efforts had been unavailing.
Well ! I don't owe thee a letter now ! that's one comfort ;
and thou owest me one, that's a still greater. Pray let it come
before Christmas Day, that I may have thee in revived remem-
brance on that day of good wishes. I now send thee as many a
priori, as this fag end of the sheet will allow me to put in and
am ever affectionately
Thy sincere friend
BERNARD BARTON
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
DEC. 28, 1845
MY DEAR BARTON,
It is most certain that you were in my debt, if
you reckon by single letters, though I believe to make all even I
should have written twice for once. E. FG. was staying with
1 Address to the Norwich Athenaum by W. B. Donne, i7th October, 1845
(printed by request).
96 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
me on the 14th September. While here he had a letter from
you wherein you asked " how many letters does Donne owe me ".
I wrote to you a few days after this interrogatory, and, till
Wednesday last, have never heard from you since. Neither was
it in my power to congratulate or condole with you on your
recent delivery, seeing I only knew you were about publishing,
and but recently that you had published. I see not the Athe-
naeum and only the Examiner and county papers, so that I
am as much in the dark as the good people of Zebulun and
Napthali of yore. Were I not to read your " Household
verses" at all, it would be but paying in kind for your rejec-
tion of my "Roman history 11 . But I will show how much more
magnanimous an historian is than a poet by buying and reading
your verses. Meanwhile I congratulate you on having published
at all, which is always a relief. As Sheridan said when Mrs.
Macaulay published her " Loose Thoughts " that " the sooner a
Lady gets rid of such thoughts the better " and, secondly on
having met with fully as much applause as censure. When
Mozart took his sonata to some capricious curmudgeon who re-
fused to pay him for it, the musician re-iterated " mais au moins
ecoutez-ecoutez done " and this is the main thing a hearing
and a hearing is what I never could get. I am glad you are
more fortunate, and may your honours with increase of ages
grow. That you may not however think me merely an his-
torian, I send you herewith some verses prompted by his Grace
of Norfolk's recommendation to the poor to take currie and hot
water to warm their empty stomachs. His Grace said he had
often tried his own prescription, but as he had probably break-
fasted, dined, and tea'd, his warrantry was not exactly to the
point.
At heart I am the most indifferent person in the world to
politics. But as man must talk as well as think, I hold in
discourse with the Democrats " a wheen blackguards " as
Caxon in the Antiquary calls them, " that are agin the King
and the law and hair-powder 11 . 1 I hate monopolies in every
thing, and as I believe that the corn -laws are among the
grossest of the class, and stand conveniently in the breach, I
[ l The Antiquary, chap, xxxvi.]
BERNARD BARTON 97
am living in hopes of their speedy downfall. They once gone,
we shall get sugar and sound doctrine cheaper by and by, for
the country-gentlemen out of mere spite will abolish the duties
on Molasses and the Irish Church. Peel is a wonderful man :
the only man in these days who can govern other men ; his
villainy delights, his steadiness gives me faith in him. He must
not retire till the aristocracy have been further dieted and
purged. And now the Tories talk of compensation ; as if
thirty years of profitable injustice were not compensation
enough !
You will be sorry to learn that poor Mrs. Bodham is at last
declining. I never think to see her downstairs again. She has
water in the chest, which painfully affects her respiration, but I
do not apprehend immediate dissolution.
Many happy Xmases and New Years to Miss Barton and
yourself, from
Your sincere friend
WILLIAM B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
COMFORT AND CURRIE
I regret, Mr. Chairman, sincerely
To learn from the speeches to-day,
Provisions are selling so dearly
And all things in such a bad way :
I infer from the looks of each Member,
He thinks that throughout '46,
And even this present December
We shall be in a regular fix.
I shall have, I assure you, much pleasure
In giving the poor my advice,
As well as in moderate measure
Distributing Sago and Rice.
But they mustn't be nice in their eating
Just now with the wolf at the door,
Red herrings, they tell me, are heating,
And barley-meal cheaper than flour.
There is hardly a thing in creation
May not be converted to food.
Where's the use of so much education
If cooking be not understood?
98 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
On the banks of the Dnieper and Dwina
You dine on the rump of a horse,
A dog is a dainty in China,
And rats are " top-dish second course ".
Captain Back in the North-polar regions
Boiled his breeches and hashed his best hat,
And owls are as tender as pigeons,
And snakes look like eels when they're fat.
I therefore for all this disquiet
At present discern not a cause
Provided the poor change their diet,
And we do not change the Corn laws.
I should not, Sir, so long have intruded
On the time of the Meeting to-night,
Had I not, Mr. Chairman, concluded
You would like to have matters set right :
But before I sit down I will mention
For the general good, a Recipe ;
It is, I believe, my invention
And certainly simple and cheap.
Take as much Currie-powder or Cayenne
As covers a sixpenny piece
This will save you the trouble of weighing
And don't mind it making you sneeze.
Put this in a pint of hot-water
And take it the last thing at night ;
Half as much for your wife or your daughter.
" N.B. Keep the Currie corked tight."
I take it, and so does the Duchess
Before we retire to our rest,
And lately she taken too much has,
And wakes with a pain in her chest.
We find that it quickens digestion
And warms us from head to the toes,
Neither flatulence breeds nor congestion
And though red doesn't redden the nose.
Then away with this fuming and fretting
Better times 'tis our duty to hope,
By the by, I was nearly forgetting
Curried water makes capital soup.
And away with this whining and worry
Times are not half so bad as you think :
Thank God ! there is plenty of Currie
And plenty of Water to drink.
STEYNINO, Agricultttr. Apociat,
BERNARD BARTON <)<)
The country was in great agitation over the Corn Law ques-
tion at this time, and the act for their repeal was passed in June
of 1846. Mr. Donne was all for repeal, and to aid the cause he
wrote some verses for the Examiner called the " Pibroch of
Denuil-Dhu " after Scott. I have been told that at a dinner
party years afterwards W. B. Donne found himself seated next to
the editor of the Examiner. The conversation turning on the
Corn Law agitation, the editor remarked, " When we were sorely
pressed at that time we were greatly helped by some clever
verses on the repeal side, but to this day I do not know who
wrote them ". Mr. Donne laughed and pointed to himself,
much to the surprise of the editor. " They were splendid," he
From "Examiner" yd January
WRIT OF SUMMONS
(Pibroch of Denuil-Dhn)
Members of either House,
Nobles and Commons,
You who have any nous
Hark to this summons :
If you would not have things
Go to old Harry,
Come, as you all had wings
This January.
Twenty-two, Twenty-two,
That is the day, Sirs,
Mind there be none of you
Out of the way, Sirs :
Come, leaving horse and hound,
Come from each Manor,
Ready to muster round
Buckingham's banner.
Come, without failing,
The crisis approaches ;
Come up by rail, and
Don't be slow coaches ;
For if you do not your
Places that night fill,
You may be very sure
Cobden and Bright will.
Be not as long as you were
Dull and tame sleepers,
For your hares take no cares
Trust your game-keepers ;
100 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
Let alone partridges,
Leave fox and pheasant,
Mantons and cartridges
Just for the present.
Stockport and Birmingham
Breed worse encroachers,
Ten times worse vermin than
Lurchers or poachers :
Never mind, never mind,
Sessions, assizes ;
Only come all combined
'Gainst their devices.
Come, as the sheep come, when
Turnips are flinging ;
As aldermen come, when
The dinner-bell's ringing :
County and Borough-men,
Stout men and slender,
" Whole-hog " and " thorough-men,"
" Never surrender ".
Leave the ball, leave the hall,
Kennel and stable,
Those who can't speak at all,
Are to vote able ;
All can assist " the cause "
Hooting and hissing.
Guard, as you made, the Laws
None must be missing.
Come in the garb that notes
Rural debaters
Velveteen shooting-coats
Mud-coloured gaiters
Twenty-two, twenty-two,
That is the day, Sirs,
Mind there be none of you
Out of the way, Sirs.
D.
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
JANUARY 9, 1846
MY DEAR DONNE,
I should have thanked thee for thy very welcome
and most pleasant letter the day it came, but Lucy laughed me
BERNARD BARTON 101
out of it. " There you go," she said, " answering a letter the
very day it comes, and a week hence you will be exclaiming
4 What can be the reason I do not hear again from Donne ? ' '
So in the words of Holy Writ, " I held my peace, even from
good," at least I refrain'd from any attempt at its utterance.
But I cannot let thy second letter, received to-day, remain un-
noticed, tho' I have scant time to notice it in, Edward Fitz-
Gerald having just dropt in on us from Geldestone and been
prevailed on to stop all night. So I have left Lu to keep him
in talk for a few minutes while I scribble a few lines to thee,
and knock off one or two other short notes, this being the last
post night of the week. I will not attempt to condole with
thee, in the common acceptation of the term, on poor dear Mrs.
Bodham's quiet and peaceful release from protracted suffering
and hopeless helplessness. 1 The event is one calling forth a sen-
sation of soothing thankfulness on her account, and of grateful
acquiescence on the part even of those who best loved her.
Still I can easily fancy the blank caused by the removal of such
an object of habitual solicitude, and long cherished affectionate
attachment.
There were old and endear'd associations, too, of which you
have good reason to be proud, connected with her. How glad
I am, now, that I have once seen her. I suppose she was the
last survivor of that little circle who might be looked upon as
the personal friends of Cowper, whom his delightful letters have
rendered, in degree, like one's own familiar friends and fireside
companions. And the removal of the last of that band ,is not
a thing to be thought of with cold indifference by any one who
has thought of the whole group with affection and admiration.
If Mattishall were only five miles off, instead of fifty, I would
most surely have made one of the party tomorrow to show my
respect for the venerable kinswoman of poor Cowper. What
was her age?
I was delighted once more, dear Donne, to get a letter from
thee, and charmed with thy verses. To make amends for any
neglect I may have unadvisably? or even unconsciously shown
1 Mrs. Bodham died on 3rd February, 1846, in her ninety-seventh year, hav-
ing outlived her husband half a century.
102 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
the Historian, I am willing and even eager to award my ample
commendation (to) The Poet. Only put forth a volume of such
verses, annually, and I will buy and read as long as I can find
money and time. And is not a Poet a much finer fellow than
an Historian. Thy verses are capital, as good as any of Tom
Moore's playful sallies in the two-penny post-bag, or elsewhere.
But as to the corn-laws, I hold with old prejudices rather
than new fangled notions. I hate and abominate the League,
as I was wont to do the Holy Alliance, and think its monopoly
of impudence, cant, patriotism and philanthropy one the most
odious of all monopolies. So there my dear Donne we are wide
as the poles asunder. I dare say thou art right in the political
economy of the question, but I can only reason by my feelings.
Thine in haste
B. B.
W. B. Donne to R. C. Trench
MATTISHALL
FEBRUARY I2TH, 1846
MY DEAR TRENCH,
I take much shame to myself knowing the kind
interest you take in me, for not sooner announcing to you the
decease of poor Mi's. Bodham. She died after a fortnight's illness
on the 3rd of last month of old age. Her breath had for some
time been a good deal affected by going up and down stairs;
otherwise she was as well as usual, and the breathing was rather
the effect of the machine wearing out, than of any definite
disease. She enjoyed the privilege of euthanasia as well as of
a long and healthy existence, and, but for outliving so many of
her family, I trust a happy one. Certainly no one can have
merited wellbeing in this world more than Mrs. Bodham for a
more guileless, unselfish and affectionate creature never existed.
To me she was a third parent, if such a phrase is allowable and
she was so associated with my dear wife that this more recent
loss freshens the first impression of that unutterable one.
No impediment now remains to my putting into act my long
cherished purpose of going with my children to school and com-
bining home with public education. If I can meet with a house
MRS. RODHAM (ANNE DONNK)
1792
R. C. TRENCH 103
at Bury, Bury not the weaver's but the martyr's will probably
be my sejour for a few years to come. It affords a good school,
a splendid scholar Donaldson, and the objections to him will
not apply to my case, a variety of masters for girls as well as
boys, and a good market. To myself indeed the town is not
very agreeable. It was as you know "my daily walks and
ancient neighbourhood " for nearly ten years together, but the
generation I knew has either migrated to other parts, or emi-
grated out of the world.
All my friends are lapt in lead
King Pandion he is dead. 1
This however is a minor consideration in respect to the probable
advantages to the children.
If possible I shall flit at midsummer, but I have a world of
business ere then, for setting aside Mrs. Bodham's executorship,
household gods do not easily seek Lavinian shores.
Southey says somewhere in " The Doctor " " Shew me the
man who has no taproot or preference of place, and I will shew
you a rascal ". I am that rascal for I cannot find in myself any
reluctance to quit the place of my birth and life for I will not
say how many years. But this place is haunted and thronged
with sad remembrances and my spirits always sink when I return
to it.
I have lent your Hulsean Lectures to some Divines here-
about and all highly admire them, nor has the loan been pre-
judicial to your interests, since the volume has been purchased
in consequence.
I meant myself to have sent you my " Address," but Charles
begged hard to be the giver as a token of his pleasure in your
beautiful gift to him. So I waived my claim in a matter in all
but the intent immaterial. Do you not lecture in Cambridge
again in April, and will you not come hither as you designed
1 From Richard Barnfield's Address to the Nightingale (1594) :
None take pity on thy pain ;
Senseless trees, they cannot hear thee ;
Ruthless tears, they will not cheer thee ;
King Pandion, he is dead ;
All thy friends are lapped in lead.
104 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
in last October. I am respectable, I keep a gig, not having
JAMES Gowing 1 on the back, and can therefore meet you at
Wymondham.
Yrs. affectly.
W. B. DONNE
Dr. Donaldson mentioned in the above letter Headmaster
of Edward VI. Grammar School, Bury St. Edmunds, at this
time; author of the Theatre of the Greeks and Lecturer at
University College, London. He was an extremely able man,
and noted for his witty sayings. I have heard W. B. Donne tell
a story, which is mentioned in the Life of Henry Crabb Robin-
son, but I do not remember whether he himself was present.
There were three brothers in Bury of the name of Creed
commonly called "the 3 Creeds". Donaldson said to Crabb
Robinson one day, pointing to one of the three brothers, who
was walking in front of them with his hands behind his back,
" There goes Athanasian Creed ". " How do you know ? " said
Crabb Robinson. "Why ! by his damnation claws (clause)."
The Donnes moved to Westgate Street, Bury, in July, 1846,
and W. B. Donne's mother, old Mrs. Edward Donne, gave up her
house in Norwich, and went to live with her son and his mother-
less children. The eight years spent at Bury were looked back
upon by all of them as some of the happiest in their lives. And
the bright, lovable old grandmother helped not a little to make
them so "Dear G. M." as they called her.
W. B. Donne to R. C. Trench
JUNE 27, 46
MY DEAR TRENCH,
I migrate to Bury sometime next month, as I
wish to be quite settled before the school opens on the 20th of
August. You have flitted toto cum corpore ; I have flitted too,
more than once but never taken my goods entire with me. It
is an awful dispensation specially from an old house inhabited
for three generations by people who delighted in accumulating
chattels about them.
I am sure when the people at Bury see what I bring, they
will set me down for a retired pawn-broker, and when the visitors
of my auction see what I leave, they will think Noah is selling
1 James Gowing, W. B. Donne's tenant, was in the habit of lending his cart
to fetch visitors till the Donnes had a gig of their own.
H. C. TRENCH 105
off his fixtures and furniture from the Ark. / am sanguine as
to the feasibility of my plan. The school is rising. The
Masters for girls are excellent. I have a comfortable house ;
and as my Mother is so good as to sacrifice her ease and quiet,
I feel my anxiety about my dear little girls much diminished.
John Wesley's injunction "Never let your children be with their
Grandmother" does not apply to my case, as I do not think
the Grandmother here spoils any one but myself. The boys
{ire now all at home and grown in a very inconvenient manner
as regards summer waistcoats and trousers. They will benefit
by having companions at Bury, for here it chances that our
neighbours are childless, or the children are too juvenile for
play fellows. In short the root of an impossible equation is
not more impossible than to bring a family up here. Pool-
Mrs. Bodham necessarily detained me, so long as she survived, but
I felt the harm of staying till I was sometimes half demented.
Y'. affect, friend
W. B. DONNK
On the birth of his friend Blakesley's first child Mr. Donne
writes on 3rd July, 1846, to Trench :
That caitiff Blakesley has had a man-child born to him these
three weeks, and has never written to me to tell it. Is he afraid
that I have the evil eye, and should blight him, or am I Lord
of the Manor at Ware and likely to claim the lad as a heriot
for my vassal ! Had I not, contrary to my wont gone yester-
day among all the fine folk at a Rose Show, I had still been in
ignorance but I felt an uncontrollable impulse to go, and now
I know why. It was ordained that I should meet Blakesley's
brother-in-law there, and discover my wrong.
WESTGATE ST., BURY
AUG. 4TH, 1846
MY DEAR TRENCH,
As the stones in Hampshire are not likely to
prate of my whereabouts, or if they do you may distrust their
tidings ; I write to assure you authentically of my arrival here.
You have migrated often enough to know that "arrival" and
"settlement" are very different things. I look forward to
106 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
settlement about Michaelmas ; meanwhile I am glad to tell
you that our removal has been attended by no evil accidents
either to body or goods. My choice of dwelling makes me at
present very popular in my own household, and as regards
myself, though I have naturally some regrets at plucking up
my penates, I am well satisfied with the change.
The number of Trades I have exercised in my own person
of late astonishes me, my genius does not lie in history or criti-
cism, but in upholstery and kindred manual acts. I have earned
my bread for a month honestly, and I regard my month's hard-
labour with some pride.
I have one sitting-room carpeted, and a bed to lie on, and
have had " losses go to and wise fellow enough " and if I have
not two gowns I have two gardens.
Next week I must into Norfolk to prepare for my auction.
It will be some time in September. Put money in thy purse,
and go to it. A power of books to be sold, for I have heroically
curtailed my library to my dimensions here and sell all that
is superfluous. Just as I am in the midst of chaos, comes a
request from my Master, Dr. Smith, that I would write him
some sixty Roman lives for his Dictionary, and in fact be his
sub-editor, because forsooth he is going on his pleasures to
Scotland. This is worshipful intelligence, but I am going to
try and oblige him seeing that in the end I may repay my
charges in moving.
Bye the by, I wrote to Parker some weeks ago, but he has
taken no notice of my letter. Perhaps he is "asleep, or on a
journey," or he is afflicted with the disease of "not marking".
With best remembrances to Mrs. Trench,
Ever y rs . affectionately
W. B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
WEST GATE STREET
BURY ST. EDMUNDS
OCT., 1846
MY DEAR BARTON,
I am so hardened in sin, in the sin of not writing
and not answering, that I cannot manage to blush the faintest
BERNARD HAKTON 107
rose-colour, although I ought at least to be a damask or a peony
when I think of you. I feel, however, most compunction touch-
ing my neglect of your last letter and the very pretty and wel-
come poem it contained. Up to that time I have some claim to
be regarded as the injured man. I had moved in the hot season,
therefore I might have had a calenture ; I came into a wilder-
ness of doctors, therefore I might have been anatomised or sent
headlong out of the world on the usings of colocynth and
calomel. And though you knew me to be encompassed with
so many and so great dangers, you wrote not to ask " did I yet
live". So up to that point I say I look on myself as the
aggrieved but I have foolishly thrown away the inestimable
privilege of a grievance and am fain to cry " peccavi " where I
might have grumbled. And I have put myself to further dis-
advantage by not writing to you before E. F. G. paid me a visit.
Now you will know all about me orally, and are independent of
my scripture. Yet perhaps after all it is to E. F. G. you
are indebted for even this eleventh-hour note ; for his coming
and presence dispelled a heavy cloud of gloom which a few days
ago was on me, and which was at the bottom of my strange
silence. We of the Donne race are all subject to eclipses of the
animal-spirits, and when the cloud is on me, I cannot screw my
mind to any sticking place whatever. Get your curiosity about
Bury as much as possible excited by E. F. G. and if he will ex-
aggerate a little, encourage him by all means to do so. For if
your inquisitiveness is well warmed, the chances are you will take
an inside place in the Ipswich coach and come hither, and it
will be worth your while if it be only to see the churches, for
though the George-fox side of your character may lead you to
condemn them as idolatrous Superfluities, yet the poetical side
will outweigh its colleague, and make you as arrant an admirer
of their architectural merits as I am.
Here I have been three months and do not at all repent my
coming. The school works well : the boys and girls thrive and
look healthy : and I have more company than at Mattishall, so
that my rust is wearing off, and by next year I expect to be as
bright and polished as a new shilling. I confess too that I have
a great liking during many months of the year for warm brick-
108 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
walls and flat pavement. I have long looked upon dank meadows
and heavy ash-trees and they did not always or often suggest
cheering associations. Now when I am satisfied with streets and
people, I have only to turn my face southward, and Hardwycke
heath is as far removed from the busy hum of men as one can
desire.
I like your poem very much and thank you very much for it.
I am also the possessor of an original poem by you which is laid
up among my autographs. By and by when your anger is cooler,
let me hear from you again and let our correspondence regain
its original footing.
Give my best respects to Miss Barton and believe me
Very sincerely yours
W. B. DONNE
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
15 DEC., 1846
DEAR DONNE,
Our epistolary intercourse seems to have got on
its old footing, which is apt to be a standing-still one so I
send thee a " flapper " to set thy part of it agoing. I am in
the press with another Sheet-ling in the form of open thy
eyes, and arch thy eye-brows,
A NEW-YEAR OFFERING
FOR THE QUEEN
How came I to think of such a piece of effrontery ? I really
did not when I began the Poem. I have been for several years
a sort of Volunteer Laureate to old Father Time, by occasionally
chronicling in Rhyme the birth of one of his Offspring or the
Death of another, and I sate down to my New Year Ditty guilt-
less of any plot against the Crown or its wearer. But when I got
to the middle of my Ditty, the Queen was brought to my recollec-
tion, and ran away with the rest of it so I clapped half a dozen
introductory Verses to iny Lay and made a Sheet-ling of it. At
first I was minded to copy it out in my best hand-writing, and
ask Anson to present it for me in MS. without its going any
further. But then a thought came over me whether the little
BERNARD BARTON 109
Lady would be likely with ease to read my verses and what is
not read with ease often is never read at all. Then a thought
came into my head that Anson having so lately presented my
" Seaweeds," might think it a bore to intrude me or my rhymes
again on Regina so soon. So I wrote to him frankly asking his
courtly counsel, and to learn how far he could or would be my
Gold Stick in waiting. What does Anson do but apply to Her
Majesty for leave to inscribe to Her, a certain little Poem to be
called a New Year offering for Her and then writes me word
that Her Majesty most graciously grants permission ! I'm sure
she must have been in a good-natured, trustful and confiding
mood, and has more reliance on my tact, discretion, and right
feeling, than I could have assumed for myself with Her for she
knows not letter or line of the ditty. However this settles the
affair as to its presentation in the most legible form I can give it.
Thine truly
B. B.
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
WESTGATE STREET
BURY ST. EDMUND'S
DECEMBER IQTH, [1846]
MY DEAR BARTON,
Let me secure 3 copies of your poem before the
whole impression is disposed of: and as I fully mean to visit
Woodbridge this winter, keep them until you see me and my
money. Our correspondence seems indeed to have returned to
its old footing. But as I am the halting member, I wish to
dwell on the subject as little as possible.
It is an old observation that poets are generally the best
prose-writers, and hence it clearly follows that your writing two
letters to one of mine is not an unjust proportion. I have heard
of a man who could never read when the wind was in the East,
and frost and snow have a similar effect upon my pen and
intellects. Since it thawed last night, I am able to write this
morning after a fashion. If the Daddy (Wordsworth) were to
die, I think you would be Laureate : and when you are, I will
come and help you to tap the butt of sherry. How would you
110 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
feel dressed like the people in the Bath-guide in bag- wig and
sword ?
By the way my profane soubriquet of Wordsworth reminds
me that I have recently made acquaintance with one of the great
bard's friends Henry Crabb Robinson and a most delightful
person he is. He spends much of his time in Bury where his
brother lives almost next door to me, and so I hope to know yet
more of him. His circle of acquaintance ranges through all the
great names of Germany and France. And he is not sparing of
his anecdotes. But among the most delightful are his reminis-
cencies of Charles Lamb.
I shall soon expect a morning -call from you on my arrival
in Bury, you are only, I think eight miles from Ipswich and
Ipswich and Bury are about an hour and a half apart. The
passenger- trains open on Monday; and come as early as you
can, as the accidents usually begin about ten days after the
opening. I had one devoted friend who came from Ipswich by
the first luggage train some three weeks ago. He was four
hours on his journey of 26 miles, and though he rode with the
stokers and was blackened by the smoke, was well-nigh frozen
when he arrived. If he encountered similar sufferings on his
return, he was probably unconscious of them, as I plied him with
warm drinks, and I will do as much for you, when you need it.
We are establishing a Public Library here and at present
thrive extraordinarily. But the reading public is an unreason-
able animal ; and yesterday I was nearly assaulted by a clergy-
man of the establishment to whom I refused a book. Had he
given me a black-eye, I should probably have returned it, and
then instead of wading through this note, you would have been
shortly chuckling over a paragraph in the Record, headed the
" Modern Uzziah " and detailing my commitment to the Spiritual
Court for smiting a priest.
Wishing you a happy Christmas and a New Year fraught
with blessings.
I am
Ever yours sincerely
WILLIAM B. DONNK
BERNARD BARTON 111
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
CHRISTMAS DAY, 1846
DEAR DOXM ,
I will lay by three copies of the New Year Ditty
for thee, and send thee by post a copy into the bargain as soon
as I can send one out to any one, paying due respect to Regina's
precedence.
I am sure thy coming here will be an era in the annals of
my biography and not less in the history of Woodbridge. Pray
come soon, while Edward FitzGerald remaineth yet a sojourner
in these parts, for he is more locomotive than I am, and not less
lifted up in spirit, in the joyful anticipation of The Donne
Advent ! Being a Quaker, I can't consistently have thee rung
in with the " Steeple House Bells " but I will set every one in
my own a-going at thy approach with right good-will. I am off'
to dine with Edwardus at his cottage where his old woman is to
cook us a turkey ; her first essay in so bold an achievement of
cookery. The same post which brought me thine, brought one
from Horace Smith, 1 both echoing the same oracular sentence
l ln a manuscript book of W. B. Donne the following, signed H. Smith
(probably Horace Smith), is written ; the reply is in W. B. Donne's handwriting,
probably his own composition :
CRAVEN STREET, STRAND
In Craven Street, Strand, six attornies find place
And six dark coal Barges are moored at its base ;
Fly, Honesty, fly, seek some safer retreat
For there's Craft in the river, and Craft in the street.
H. SMITH.
Reply
Why should Honesty fly to some safer retreat
From Attornies, and Barges od 'rot 'em ?
For the Lawyers are JUST at the top of the street
And the Barges are JUST at the bottom.
i
And why shouldn't Quakers be frolic and frisky
As well as those Christians who don't dress in drab ?
So a health to " FitzDennis" 1 in punch or in whiskey:
In such compositions I own I'm a dab.
2
I rarely succeed in the line sentimental
In elegy, sonnet, hymn, epic, or ode :
If I find them, I presently find my rhymes spent all,
And sink like a coach, in a cross country road.
1 Edward FitzGerald.
112 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
my doom to the Laureateship ! When the sky falls, Larks are
to be caught. When the Millennium shall have commenced
a Quaker may wear the Laureate wreath. My dear fellow, I
shall no more be so bedizen'd, than I shall bear the Seals, and
wear the Wig of the Lord Chancellor. "What would Mrs.
Grundy say ? " I beg her pardon ; I mean what would be said
and written by Bishops and grave Divines of the Puseyite Order
on the nomination of a Dissenter, and an unbaptized, and un-
sacramental one too, being nominated to such an office in the
Royal Household ! Would there not be a special Meeting con-
vened at Exeter Hall to avert the wrath of Heaven? Would
not the Orators there rave about the abomination, if not of
desolation, of destitution intruding into the Holy of Holies !
and I know not what else. Nay, nay,
When Peel and Bentinck shall embrace,
And Wakley boast poetic grace,
When Sibthorpe shall be shav'n and shorn,
And Richmond's Duke care not for corn,
And Dan O'Connell rent refuse,
Then I shall serve the Laureate Muse.
Till then farewell.
Thine truly
B. B.
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
JANUARY 2ND, 1848
DEAR DONNE,
. . . FitzDennis (FitzGerald) has been our
guest, with occasional intervals of absence, ever since Friday
3
I wished to indite on poor John Joseph Gurney 1
A Monody, thinking it justly his due :
But I stumbled at once on that bad rhyme " attorney "
And left him to genuine poets like you.
4
But a health to " FitzDennis " is pure inspiration :
In a full bowl of punch, I will pledge him to-night
And I'll raise in his honour, a grey exhalation
And vanish like Jove in a cloud, from all sight.
5
Not a cloud damp and murky but " genuine Turkey "
Shall curl to the ceiling and wreathe round the room
And my celebration of this great occasion
Shall rival the Revel which you keep " at home".
1 John Joseph Gurney died 4th January, 1847.
BERNARD BARTON 113
evening. The organist here wanted a Holyday to go and see
his Friends or Relatives, arid Fitz with his usual good-nature
undertook to be Organist for the Day on this present Sabbath.
But I believe the absence of the veritable one, and the substitu-
tion of his Proxy is known to very few. However FitzGerald's
assumption of pedal and pipes implied the necessity or desirable-
ness of a sort of prior rehearsal yesterday so he came to us the
evening before, and we saw the Old year out and the New one in,
as a preparative, by our own fireside. I scribble this while he is
gone to his afternoon service, he will have another spell at it
in the evening, and then his commission will have run out.
From all I hear of the performance of the morning he will get
through it, as I doubted not he would, in very creditable style.
Art thou not coming to Brooke's ? l If aught should occur to
prevent that visit, bear in mind thou wouldst be a most welcome
guest either to Fitz or us, or to both. We all are pining for
a palaver with thee, and Lucy sadly wants thee to see my Chalk
Head by Laurence. As Johnson said of the Giant's Causeway,
it may be worth seeing, tho' not worth coming expressly to see.
But there are living heads and hearts here who would gladly
give thee a greeting.
Thine ever
B. B.
A NEW-YEAR OFFERING FOR BERNARD BARTON
BY WILLIAM BODHAM DONNE
I sing of Barton I who erewhile sang
Of Currie-powder and the Corn-law Lords.
BURY
1847
i
Bard ! whose genial numbers flow
Well-attuned to weal or woe,
Cheering to the cheerful heart,
Soothing to the mourner's smart
Thanks for thy " Verses to the Queen " :
Sweeter, sooth, are rarely seen.
1 Captain Brooke of Ufford, who had invited W. B. Donne to come and see
his magnificent library.
8
114 W. B. DOJNNE AND HIS FRIENDS
Welcome thou in halls of power,
Welcome too in humblest bower,
Circling in thy song's embrace
Lowly lot and pride of place
Thanks again ! thy Verse is fraught
With winsome grace and wisest thought.
Thou through all thy peaceful days
Hast trodden wisdom's secret ways,
Drinking from her crystal stream
Thoughts that glow and words that beam.
With sights and sounds of common earth
And dulcet notes of household-hearth.
Thou, where Pleasure's motley crew
Glittering bubbles still pursue
Change that neither rests nor gladdens ;
Hope that wearies, Joy that maddens
Art not found a stranger ever
To their void and vain endeavour.
But when over holt and heath
Morning pours her roseate breath ;
And when Evening's dewy close
Veils the meadow, folds the rose,
Thou, with watchful heart and eye,
Pupil art of Earth and Sky.
Flowers that range the hedgerow wild,
Violets, hare-bells, cowslips mild,
Stars that gem the purple night,
Woodlands dim and waters bright,
Eld's experience, childhood's glee
These thy spirits masters be.
And the Lore they teach, thy Verse
Aptly doth to us rehearse,
Grace to things familiar lending
Patience, Truth, and Love commending
Sovereign, subject, each may be
Wiser, better, reading thee !
Greener with each gliding year
Bloom thy laurels, tuneful seer !
And within the chaplet twine
Buds of Amaranth divine;
Flower immortal ! due reward,
And emblem meet for Verse and Bard.
[William Donne, Bury]
BERNARD BARTON 115
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
FEBRUARY 4, 1847
MY DEAR DOXNE,
I have heard it said that a personal meeting
between two friends makes it a moot-point which of the twain
is to write first. I will scotch that snake, anyhow : for I value
thy notes far too highly to lose the chance of getting one by not
writing. I should have thought, felt, and written, as I now do,
the week before last, when I had only a dim and distant im-
pression of thy personal merits, and certainly that impression has
not been weakened by our interview au contraire it has been
prodigiously strengthened, for it was so long since we had met,
and then only for so short a time, that I was not fully aware
what a fine fellow, and pleasant companion I had been all this
while corresponding with. So lay thy account with my being
a greater pest and plague for notes from thee than I ever yet
have been. Does the "L Gazette" ever fall in thy way?
If it does, pray look into last Saturday's, and read the Notice of
a Yankee Book of Travels, called " Views a-foot " ; or " Europe
seen with Knapsack and Staff," by J. Bayard Taylor. It is
the same pedestrian I breakfasted with at Lockhart's, and
that Breakfast is chronicled in his Pages. He speaks of me as
"quite an old man, grey-headed, and almost bald," but says
quite enough in my praise to reconcile me to my senility being
notorious on the other side the Atlantic. I was so little in-
clined to quarrel with the man for having found out, and
honestly recorded a fact, I am well aware of, that I wrote
directly I had seen the article in the "L. G." to Wiley and Put-
nam to ask the price of the work, meaning, tho' I buy no Books
to speak of, to buy that, and this morning these Yankee importers
of American Literature have sent me the Book as a present,
with a very handsome Letter. My companion of the Breakfast
Table is really somewhat of a Hero. He was within about two
years of being out of his Apprenticeship as a Printer when he was
smitten with a desire to see the old World. So he bought out
the rest of his time, and with about 140 dollars in his Pocket,
partly advanced to him by conductors of American Papers, to
116 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
whom he was to furnish Letters reporting his Tour, he started
for Europe. What more he might want he was to earn on his
route, either by working as a Printer, or by further remittances
from those in Yankee-land, to whom he forwarded the fruits of
his travel. He travelled for two years, only spending, in the
whole, 500 dollars. Now I really think a young fellow of 19
who could plan such an enterprize, and follow it out so fearlessly
borders on the heroic. At that breakfast-table he had not one
shilling in his pocket, for he reached Town the day before on his
return from the continent and owns his finances were reduced to
a frank and a half, yet he was gay as the gayest of us round
Lockhart's breakfast-table, and his manners and appearance
more those of a Gentleman than I should have dreamt Yankee
Land likely to turn out. I would strongly recommend thee to
get the work into your Library or Reading Society. Mine only
came this morning, but I have already got three members of
different Book Clubs here to propose it to their respective clubs.
It is in two rather thin parts Octavo, but will bind up as one
and cannot be a costly purchase. Of course under the circum-
stances it is full of faults, but I like its tone and spirit.
Thine B.
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
FEB. 6, 1847
MY DEAR BARTON,
Had I not been suffering since my return with
inflamed eyes, it would not have been a moot point which of us
twain first addressed the other. For I fully purposed writing to
you to say how much I rejoiced in the exchange of our corre-
spondence for personal intercourse and how much I enjoyed my
visit at Woodbridge. " It is an ill bird that fouls his own nest " :
but certain I am that I could not have summoned around me at
Mattishall so pleasant and intelligent a group as I met at your
house not even if I had sent my servants into the highways to
compel them to come in.
Here I am somewhat better oft', and I hope it may be an
inducement to you to come over ere many weeks are past. Our
school -masters are worth seeing : they are not bushy- wigged and
BERNARD BARTON 117
unclean Dr. Parrs, but two little men as brisk as bees and as
busy. The second master had like to have come to a bad end
the very day he arrived for he is a new-comer. Exploring the
passages of a rambling inn, as Mr. Pickwick explored the White
Horse at Ipswich, he fell twelve feet into a coal-hole, and he now
defies all men and sundry to repeat the exploit without breaking
their bones.
I will endeavour to get your "American Traveller" into our
library. The Yankees seem to think baldness a rarity apper-
taining to the old country, for their papers could not sufficiently
express their wonder, when IA Ashburton went over about the
Boundary-question, at the lack of hair among his attaches.
Spedding's crown imperial of a cranium struck them like a view
of Teneriffe or Atlas. I foresee one inconvenience arising out
of vour Trans-atlantic fame : they will be naming their niggers
" Bernard Barton " : and you nominally at least, will figure in
some New Orleans journal as being "marked on the left jaw,
limping on the right leg, and squinting considerably," with ever
so many dollars on your head.
I must wind up as I find my eyes far from comfortable.
Yr. affect, friend
W. B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
17/3/47
i
Bernard Barton oh I
Bernard Barton, bless me I
Is it really so ?
Much your words distress me.
Worse and worse I'm grown
'Stead of being better :
I'd have laid a crown
You owed me a letter.
But when back I look
On your latest note, it,
At its right-hand nook,
Makes me rather doubt it.
118 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
There the date is plain :
" Sixteenth February,"
Making it quite vain
For me to say contrary.
Is there rhyme or reason
For so odd a blunder ?
Should I plead "the season,"
Bernard, you will wonder.
But while weather's cold
I am always stupid :
More like Saturn old,
Than like chubby Cupid.
(Mind though there's a brick
Neither's just my pattern :
Cupid is too quick,
And too sulky Saturn.)
Stanza last, you know,
Is, what's called a paren-
thesis. Now I'll show
Why my wit is barren.
The East-wind in its fits
Twirled us here like skittles :
Often froze my wits,
And often too my wittles.
Full six .weeks the wind
Burn it ! clapper-clawed me :
Now the weather's kind
But hasn't yet quite thawed me.
So you can't expect
Letter such as nice I call
Since I recollect
Am still half an icicle.
News there's none I fear,
Nightly or diurnal :
So a leaf I'll tear
From my pocket-journal.
Monday last, I went
Bright day, not a dull one
Much to my content,
To see Sir Thomas Cullum.
BKRNARD BARTON 119
Such a house he's got :
Style EHsabethan
Houses Green and Hot,
Gods and vases heathen.
Fountains, Arnot-stoves,
Rooms hung all with pictures :
Persian cat and doves,
And such a lot of fixtures !
Tuscan tombs and jugs
And what some think finer
Punch-bowls, dragons, mugs,
And devils in old-china.
Gold box on gold stand
Sight that set me thinking,
Buonaparte the Grand
Kept his pens and ink in.
But high time it is
I to bed were jogging :
And you'll think all this
As bad as cataloguing
Puff of auctioneer
Robins, George or Christie ;
One A.M. is near,
And both the candles misty.
So now, I remain
Yours sincerely very.
(Author of this strain)
William Donne of Bury.
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
MARCH 29, 1847
DEAR DONNE,
We have had a hearty laugh over thy verses, but
I should have liked mightily to have been with thee at Sir
Thomas Cull urn's and seen all those fine things with thee. I
can send thee no rhymes so humorous as thy own, but I post
thee a copy of my last, though it is out of order for thee to see
it before Edward, as it is addressed to him. His birthday is on
the 31st, and just before he went to Geldestone, he made me a
present of a pretty little j ug to hold hot water, at my nightly
120 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
symposiums. As he is ever and anon giving me some little
memorial of this sort, Lucy, all unknown to me, played Aunt
Bodham and knitted a silken purse, which the chances are a
hundred to one he will never use ; however, I'm to send it, and I
mean to send the following with it, for fun. I should say that
FitzDennis is his " other Name " with us from his criticizing my
Verses, as he is wont to do, and the last line has reference to
Scott's "Pirate," which we have lately been reading together.
FOR MAISTER FITZDENNIS
THESE
FitzDennis, FitzDennis, thou'st given me a jorum,
Hot water to hold, when I moisten my clay ;
So I, who am called of the Muses own Quorum,
Would fain, in some measure, thy kindness repay.
Besides, 'tis thy Birthday ! with joy, not with sorrow,
I drink to thy health ere the grog can grow cool :
What a mercy it chanced not to fall on the morrow,
To make thee, by Birth-right, a mere April fool !
Poets seldom make presents, because they've no Money !
Could I give thee a reason more trite or more terse ?
So, in true Irish fashion, " I send ye, my Honey ! "
Fitting gift for a Poet, a poor empty Purse !
But a plague on all Pelf! I say not on all Purses ;
My rhymes are exhausted, my time, too, is gone :
Here's health to FitzDennis 1 to bear with my Verses,
And to Minna ! and Brenda ! and glorious John !
CLAUD HALCRO
BURGH WESTRA
MARCH 31, 1847
There, William, wouldst thou ever have guess'd these to be
mine ? either by the Poetry or the Penmanship ? the latter is
caused by the lines being so long, I could not get 'em in, in what
folk call running hand, so I am fain to adopt a more cramped
one, but I do not think they would easily be guessed to be mine,
nor should I wish it, for it ill beseemeth a Quaker Bard to chaunt
about reeking Jorums, and moistening his Clay : only I thought
it would amuse Edward ; and as I think it may do the same by
thee, I send thee a copy for thy own private and peculiar read-
ing ; this here not being exactly the style which I would have
BERNARD BARTON 121
enter'd on the Court Books of Parnassus, as the true Bartonian
one.
I am now deep in a series of brief illustrations of little Suffolk
Views, engraved at the top of sheets of letter-paper for Lucy to
send to a Bazaar at Belfast, to be held there next month.
Trifles of this sort sell pretty readily under the name of Poetical
Autographs.
Thine ever
B. B.
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
4/14/47
WESTGATE STREET
DEAR BARTON,
I found your letter awaiting me on my return from
Norfolk. Yesterday I saw Mr. Tymms and he has just sent me
a proof of your lines. He is a most respectable and well-informed
man, and you could not be, for the purpose, in better hands.
He shall print the Verses l as handsomely as his Type and Paper
will allow, and I will send you, when the final proof is pulled, a
sample of my taste and his skill.
The lines are very appropriate and will, I doubt not, answer
the purpose admirably.
I have sent the strangest mixture of curiosities for the
Mechanics Exhibition imaginable.
The spectators will inevitably deem me a man-milliner.
There are 4 fans with pictures, a bonnet and apron of the time
of George II. ; a pair of shoes from Cuba ; a bead-basket with
much such a representation on it as Cowper describes on his sofa
cover.
There may you see the peony spread wide,
The full-blown rose, the shepherd and his lass,
Lap-dog and lambkin with black staring eyes,
And parrots with twin cherries in their beak.
The only masculine part of my contribution is a portrait of
a most surly Admiral and certain prints. I am afraid hence-
forward the Buryites will suspect me of being a kind of Pope Joan.
1 " Lines on the Press," composed for the Mechanics' Institute Exhibition
held at Bury.
122 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
I have let Mattishall for two years from next June. And
as it is my Tenant's interest to be as near his living as possible
which is in the adjoining parish and for the sake of his good
name among his parishioners to cultivate godly life and conversa-
tion, I have no fear of repenting my bargain. And this reminds
me that I must immediately write to the said Tenant, so shall
make no excuse for abruptly remaining, with best remembrances
to Miss Barton,
Y rs . ever truly
W. B. DONNE
The " surly Admiral " mentioned in the above letter was one
Admiral Bodham, who, when London was threatened with an-
other conflagration, soon after the Great Fire in 1665, sailed
down the Thames and did such service in averting the catas-
trophe, that he was presented with his portrait and a silver cup.
W. B. Donne's father, Edward Donne, once received a letter
from a Mr. Bamwell saying that " as he possessed the cup, he
thought the picture ought also to belong to him," but Mr.
Donne most appositely replied that "as he was the owner of
the picture, he thought on the contrary the cup ought to be in
his possession ".
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
APRIL 16, 1847
MY DEAR DONNE,
It was quite a treat once again to get a note
from Thee. My unknown Brother Mr. Tymms has sent me
a very neatly turned out Proof with only one typographical
inaccuracy. . . .
Thy account of thy contributions to the Exhibition amused
me much. I heartily wish the Scheme may answer. Mr. T. has
very politely sent me a card of invitation on my own behalf and
that of my friends, but I can no more get out than Sterne's
Starling could, unless I brought Bank, Desk and Books with me,
and so could keep on at my figure work, which would make a
novel item in your Exhibition. I am glad to hear Mattishall is
let for a couple of years because that implies thy being a Suffolk
man for two years longer.
ADMIRAL HOI) HAM
1666
BERNARD BARTON
I still hope to get over to Bury for a few hours, but the when
is hid from me at this present.
I have had such a high-flown letter from an American lady,
now sojourning in London, begging an Autograph ! It is almost
as overwhelming as poor Teedon's praise of thy kinsman was to
him. I was not aware before what an eminent and illustrious
character I am, " not only in the European World, but in the
Great Republic from which said Lady is just arrived".
Edward FitzGerald and I concocted between us a couple of
stanzas for an autograph, but I thought the Lady might be
hurt at them if they were sent, so I sent instead a sheet of letter
paper with a view of Woodbridge at the top, and three old but
unpublished verses of mine written underneath. I am very fond
of this little obscure nook of a place, indeed I can hardly fancy
how any one can live in a place above forty years, on more than
tolerable terms with his neighbours, and not find something to
like in a place, wherein during all that time much must have
been suffered and enjoyed. I have as many local attachments
as a cat.
Now for my verses.
My own beloved, adopted Town !
Even this glimpse of Thee,
Whereon I've seen the Sun go down
So oft sufficeth me.
For more than forty chequer 'd years!
Hast thou not been my Home ?
Till all that most this life endears
Forbids a wish to roam.
Loved for the Living, and the Dead !
No other home I crave :
Here would I live till life be fled,
Here find a nameless grave !
Had every one spoken as well of his habitat, the old proverb
of its being an ill bird that fouls its own nest, would not have
been thought of; much less would such a libel have become pro-
verbial.
Thine, dear William
Ever affectionately
B.B.
124 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
WEST GATE STREET
4/21/47
MY DEAR BARTON,
I am not sure whether Mr. Tymms has sent you
another proof of the lines on the " Press ". But if he has you will
see that I anticipated your correction of then for there in the
last stanza and made other verbal alterations. My great de-
linquency however is still to be confessed, viz., altering an entire
stanza all but one line. I thought the original inferior to the
rest of the poem, but whether you will think so, and whether
you will forgive me is a much more serious consideration. I
expect, at least, a satire on criticasters and intermeddlers.
Luckily we live not in pagan times, when poets were accounted
wizards or I might run a chance of being served as Midas was
by Apollo.
We had a very pleasant opening last night of the Exhibition.
The country gentlemen and townsfolk most liberally imparted
their stores, and the room displayed a really beautiful coup
d'ceil. Now is your time to run over to Bury and see some very
nice pictures. Holbein, Salvator, Rembrandt and Carlo Dolce
have all their representatives and there are too some very inter-
esting historical portraits. I do not mean however that your
running over now shall prejudice your visit in the summer.
For then I hope Miss Barton will accompany you, whereas at
this moment I have only lodging for one, my chamber of Dais
being occupied by an invalid. Your poem was announced to
the spectators last night, and as a general desire was expressed
to hear it, a reader was needed. But straightway all began to
make excuse, one had a cold, another wanted courage, a third
his tea, so having cobbled your verses I thought I might as
well, as Jaques says, " mar them by reading them ill-favouredly ".
I gave them my best emphasis and energy, and they were cordi-
ally applauded. But I should not wonder if either you or I were
saddled with a judgment. The exhibition-Room was origin-
ally a theatre : the platform on which I recited was the very
ground once occupied by the stage, and many thousand verses
had of yore been spouted thereon " by the harlotry-players ".
BKKNAH1) BARTON
This coincidence is enough to make George Fox's bones rattle
in their grave.
I like the verses on your deceased friend at Colchester. But
you might mend them by a little revision. I suspect, however,
if I am so critical, that you will dub me FitzBentley.
Ever yours truly
WILLIAM B. DONNE
I observe on looking at your last note that you say " it is
quite a treat to see a note again from me " ! Waiving the im-
plied compliment, give me leave in the most delicate way in the
world to add that you are an unreasonable monster. Have you
not had of late two letters in rhyme, each of which is equivalent
to three in prose, and consequently you have six notes from me,
not counting the present, since " sixteenth February ".
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
APRIL 23, 1847
MY DEAR FlTzBENTLEY,
I shall certainly be in danger of being " lifted up
in spirit," if there be much danger of my verses being read in
public by thee ; yet on the other hand that hour may minister to
humility, for the applause so cordially awarded might be quite
as much given to the manner in which they were read, as to the
Verses themselves. At any rate I will assume that such was the
fact, to keep my authorly vanity in check. But all joking apart,
I thank thee heartily for having been my Reader. I would not
have taken the job in hand for a trifle, even if they had not
been my own. I thank thee, too, for thy alterations which are
all emendations, especially the most important one of them all.
I did not much like the image of the telegraphic wire, and only
used it as expressive of the rapidity with which the Press diffuses
its store of information. But it is, I frankly own, forced and
inapplicable.
Thine ever affectionately
B.
126 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
J. W. Blakesley to W. B. Donne
WARE VICARAGE
APRIL 23, 1847
MY DEAR DOXNE,
Vanity, avarice, and friendship unite their forces
in disposing me to avail myself of Donaldson's offer to examine
Bury School. But I must resist all three ; for the time which
he names is exactly that in which I expect the apparition of Mrs.
Gamp in my house ; and I am told that it is impossible for me
under the circumstances to leave home.
I was extremely sorry to find that you had deferred your
visit to Trench ; for I was anxious to see you here, and introduce
you to my first-born ; who is not without his merits. Moreover
I should be very glad to bring you into contact with Empson, 1
who has a good deal to do with the " Edinburgh Review," and I
cannot help thinking that it would be to the advantage both of
it and you to establish a connexion with one another. It appears
to me that the editorship of a Quarterly Periodical is, of all
literary labour, that likely to be most tolerable, and such a
position would I think eminently suit you.
I am very glad to find that you have not been deterred by
Donaldson's omniscience from discovering the better parts of his
character. I believe him really to be a good-natured fellow, and
if he did not pretend to know about 100 times as much as he
does, he would enjoy a high reputation on the strength of that
centesimal part, and also a deserved one.
Believe me, dear Donne
Yrs. affectly.
J. W. BLAKESLI Y
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
APRIL 29, 1847
MY DEAR DONNE,
I am somewhat pent for time tonight, as Lu is
gone out to tea next door, and I promised to drop in after that
1 William Empson, 1791-1852, editor of the Edinburgh Review from 1847-
1852 ; Professor of General Polity and the Laws of England at the East India
College, Haileybury, 1824-1852.
J. VV. BLAKESLEY 127
shadowy refection was over. But if I write not, it might seem
as if I quarrelled with my Bantling's Dry Nurse, which I do not.
Many of thy alterations in my verses are decided improvements,
and by none of them is my poor ditty in any degree marr'd. I
really think I should make a very decent Poet if I had a Fit/-
Dennis, or a FitzBentley (W. B. Donne) ever at my elbow to
lick my cubs into shape and comeliness for me. I am ill at that
work. When I have once given vent to the feeling or thought
which haunted me 'till it found utterance, after its own rude
fashion, I seem to care no more about it, and revision and
correction are a sort of penance verging on actual martyrdom.
I am just such a poet as my neighbour Tom Churchyard is an
artist. He will dash you off slight and careless sketches by the
dozen, or score, but for touching, re-touching, or finishing, that
is quite another affair, and has to wait, if it ever be done at all.
Of course we are a couple of lazy slovenly artistes, for our want
of pains, but as the old proverb has it " There is no making a
silken Purse out of a Sow's ear ". Many thanks for the " Herald,"
and pray have the goodness to thank Mr. Tymms for the " Post ".
I read the full and copious Report with much interest.
Farewell affectionately
Ever thine
B. B.
J. W. Blakesley to W. B. Donne
MAY 4 , 1847
MY DEAR DONNE,
I was in London yesterday and saw Empson ; and
had some conversation with him relative to you and the Edin-
burgh Review, of which he is the Provisional, and will probably
become the permanent Editor. He is very desirous to enter into
some engagement with you, of such a kind as I think likely to
be acceptable to you, viz., that you should furnish him at your
leisure with some articles on any subject which you are pursuing
(and which will admit of articles being written on it) which will
admit rather of immediate insertion, or of a delay for a quarter
or a half year. I told him that you had written several articles
in the British and Foreign, &c. I think it would be as well for
you to name them when you write to him. His address is
Professor Empson, Hayleybury College, Hertford.
128 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
JUNE 12, 1847
MY DEAR DONNE,
I have never heard of or from thee since I wrote
thee my thanks for cutting up some verses I sent thee as a sort
of Requiem for a near and dear friend of mine ; and I really
think the readiness with which I submitted to thy critical dis-
section on that occasion, ought to have elicited thy special com-
mendation ; considering that from the time of the appeal made
by those two Mothers to Solomon ; few, if any parents have been
found willing to submit their offspring to such an operation.
But I can forgive thy sins of commission, sooner than thy sins of
omission ; and much more readily pardon thy FitzBentleyism
than thy taciturnity. So I send thee another piece of rhyme to
cut up, rather than not hear from thee.
The Publisher of the Ipswich Pocket Book came over the
other day to see if I could help with pictorial as well as poetical
illustration for his Pocket Book ; and I have lent him an old oil
sketch of Aldbro' from the Terrace to engrave for his P. B. to
the which I am minded to attach the following
SONNET
Aldborough : from the Terrace
Thy old Moot-Hall is but a relique hoar ;
Thy time-worn Church stands lonely on its hill ;
And he who sojourns here when winds are shrill
In winter, peradventure might deplore
The poor old Borough Borough now no more !
Yet, on a summer day, 'tis pleasant still
From this far eminence to gaze at will
Over the Town below, and winding Shore !
For Poesy's own spells yet haunt the place
With Crabbers undying Memory entwined ;
While Earth, and Sea, and Sky, with powers combined,
Lend to the scene around their sterner grace :
Nature ! What can thy Sovereignty efface ?
O'erwhelm, in Lethe's wave, A Master Mind ?
There ! I don't call that a despicable fourteener, considering
how much and how often I have rhymed about old Crabbe :
BERNARD BARTON 1*9
which in truth drove me to the expedient of only sonnet-izing
him ; lest I should repeat myself beyond all the bounds of endur-
ance. Talking of old Crabbe puts me in mind of his son whom
I met awhile ago at Boulge Cottage.
Edward had axed him to meet one or two of us there, and
his acceptance of the invitation ran thus, as nearly as my memory
serves :
As sure as a gun
I'll be in at the fun ;
For I'm the old Vicar
As sticks to his liquor ;
And smokes a cigar,
Like a jolly Jack Tar :
I've no time for more,
For the Post's at the door ;
But I'll be there by seven,
And stay 'till eleven,
For Boulge is my Heaven !
Is not that " rich and rare '' ? I would not let every one see
it, but I copy it for thy own private reading, because I am sure
thou wilt read it with a liberal toleration, and wilt not suppose
the good old Vicar to be a Bacchanalian, when he only meant,
con amore, to express his hearty willingness to be social. But
certain ill-disposed folks might take it literally, and quarrel with,
and misconstrue its heartiness.
Thine truly
B.
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
JUNE i8TH, 1847
MY DEAR BARTON,
You may have cause to complain, but I have had
much more : for, like the unmerciful servant, I have been in the
hands of the tormentors.
A gigantic double-tooth a mammoth indeed, at the further
and lower extremity of my jaw has been extracted. Knowing
by experience that it is almost as easy to remove mountains as
my grinders, I besought the operator to give me Ether. But lo !
the vanity of hopes and the villainy of quackeries. The Ether
130 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
far from somnolency produced a fierce kind of intoxication and
my tooth was drawn while I was in a kind of prophetic fury.
Nor was this all. The tooth was so curiously and impertinently
strapped and pegged in, that the extraction splintered my jaw-
bone and sprung an artery, and I bled so long and copiously that
I began to think I should die the death of Seneca and other noble
Romans, and perhaps it would have been a seemly end for a
Roman historian. Luckily I had a most skilful surgeon, for,
joking apart, it was rather at one time a grave matter. The
upshot of all this bleeding, lacerating and splintering has been
to throw me into a kind of low fever, from which only yesterday
I began really to amend.
I cannot improve your sonnet : so I meddle not with it.
You would never need extraneous correction, if you would keep
your verses by you a while and retouch them yourself: and,
believe one who has had some experience both in correcting his
own and other folk's prose, no one is so good a judge as the
author's self. Poetry retouched by a second hand is like
Mogul china. The real artist furnishes the fine clay and the
delicate outline. Then comes your Dutchman, the critic, and
blotches over with his purple and gold the China-man's idea.
Go then one fine morning to Cambridge and to Trin. Coll.
Library, and ask to see the Milton MSS. These are one blot of
pentamentos. So are Spenser's and Ariosto's. I have been to
London lately, and heard and saw Jenny Lind. 1 I would be
of no religion that interdicted me from hearing such a divine
creature. " Think of that, Master Brooke." I suffered almost
penal torments in getting into the opera house, and while there
from heat, pressure and struggling. But had I been under
Juggernaut's car, her voice and look and movements would have
caused the wheels to pass innocuously over me. I think of
putting on my tomb-stone, "He saw Jenny Lind". It is an
order of merit for Life. My opinion of the cleaned pictures
at the National Gallery a question mooted while I was at
Woodbridge is that they have been injured. Eyes that once
1 Jenny Lind, 1820-1887. Born at Stockholm. Her first appearance in
London, 1847. Married in 1852 to Mr. Otto Goldschmidt, of Hamburg. Last
appearance, 1883.
HKHNARI) BARTON 131
floated insensibly into your inmost heart now stare at you and
so forth.
With best remembrances to Miss Barton,
Ever y rs . most truly
WM. B. DOXM:
WESTGATE ST.
JUNE i8TH.
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
JUNE 20, 1847
MY DEAR FRIEND,
Thou wouldst be of no religion which inter-
dicted thee from hearing Jenny Lind ! Very likely not, yet
I am by no means sure the Quakers have done wrong in proscrib-
ing the Opera as a place of resort to their Sect. "Tis an Augean
Temple of Dissipation which not even the " angel visits few and
far between "of one pure spirit can render a desirable rendez-
vous to Christian folk. At least so it strikes me in my happy
ignorance of its attractions. . . . This is rather a long and prosy
comment on thy brief remark, which after all, as well as much of
its context, I set down as badinage. But as one of a Sect who
are regarded by thee as interdicting the hearing of Jenny Lind,
I could not refrain from a statement of the why and the where-
fore. " It's no fish ye're buying, 'its Men's lives," quoth Maggie
Mucklebackit to Monkbarns. So I would bay to lots of Jenny
Lind's hearers. It is not Nature, Simplicity, Purity and Truth
that you idolize, but one who, gifted with these, ministers to
your gratification independently if not in spite of them all.
And now having worked off* a little of the esprit de corps
called forth by thy hit at my " interdictory Religion," I cannot
do less in Christian Charity than condole with thee on thy
having fallen into the hands of the Philistines. It's a mercy
they did not pull thy head off instead of lacerating and splinter-
ing a portion of it. By-the-bye, I infer all these complicated
calamities befel thee after thy going to see and hear Jenny.
7 will not affect to regard it as a judgment on thee for going to
that naughty place and sitting there to hear their singing Men
(poor emasculated bodies) and singing Women ! Though some
132 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
of the " unco guid " might trace a connecting link of cause
and effect ; and argue profoundly concerning hot and crowded
Houses and cold caught on coming out of them, still, I daresay
the Tormentors might have been let loose on thee hadst thou
been both ear-less, and Lind-less, like unto myself. But when
I read of thy putting thyself with all due complacency under
Juggernaut's car, unconscious of its pressure in listening to her
Siren strains ; and of thy proposed Epitaph, I involuntarily said
to myself, " Poor fellow ! he is still under the influence of that
4 ethereal ' draught ! " By-the-bye, I think of having recourse
to it, for I am about to be delivered over to the Tormentors
myself. My daughter has been plotting against me, calling in
FitzDennis to her aid; and between them it has been agreed
that Edward's friend Laurence, the artist, is to come down on a
three or four days' visit to Boulge Cottage, and while there he
is to drop in on us between whiles, and make a copy of my
cranium and phiz in Crayons. I have sat to five or six inferior
brothers of the brush, a priori, and have never yet had two por-
traits taken in any degree like each other or like me, so I think
it very likely the thing will be a failure, and the sitting is a sad
bore, but I had promised Lucy a five-pound note towards a tour
she was going to make, and she has chosen to put ten pounds of
her own to it, and throw the whole fifteen away on this absurd
Spec ! when she might have gone to hear Jenny three nights for
the money, which, to her, would have been a treat. When the
resolve assumed this aspect, there was no alternative on my part
but submission, tho' it is that sort of assent Crabbe talks of
" At best that sad submission to our doom which, turning from
the evil, lets it come ".
However, my comfort is, even if the worst comes to the
worst, that a Crayon sketch may be endured, and survived.
Besides Laurence may not be able to get away from town where
he seems to have plenty to do. But he has to go down into
Norfolk to take some Barclay folk, and talks of taking my head
off, on his way. Time, however, will prove whether this be
practicable, and I shall be well content if the reverse be found
to l>e the result. Edward FitzGerald, I think I wrote thee
word, is gone to see the Kerrich tribe. I heard from him
BKKNA1U) BARTON
yesterday, enclosing a note he had received from his artist friend,
to the effect that his only chance of giving him a look was by
taking him in his way to or from Norwich, and Edward said he
should write and nail him at once, that is, as soon as E. shall have
returned, which will take place I believe the end of this week.
So I hope for a Note from thee to keep my spirits up, if thou
hast forgiven this long infliction and my Heresy touching thy
Lind Idolatry.
Thine ever, at all events
B. B.
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
MY DEAR FRIEND,
Because I lightly thrust at thee with a foil, you
have caught up cudgels and banged me with usury. Oh man
of much zeal for the truth, did you imagine that I really meant
any disrespect to you or your church, which I most truly rever-
ence, letting alone my private regard for Thee ? Did you ever
know me hesitate between my friend and my jest? It is a
foolish knack I have to say unseasonable things. I am often
on the stool of repentance for this cause : and I stand on it now
in this " Linden " matter. " Be merciful, great Duke, to men of
mould," and be assured that when I hurt any one's feelings and
discover it, my own suffer much more. I admire Miss Barton's
filial piety, and rejoice infinitely at it, as I shall reap the fruits
one day or other in seeing you worthily limned. You could not
have a better man than Laurence. He will paint the real man,
the man whom strangers to him may read if they have the gift.
But mind and do not put on a face for the occasion. Think of
some pleasant passage in Lamb's or Cowper's letters and chew
the cud upon it while you are sitting. It is my daily grief that
I have no picture of my dear Catharine. Therefore because her
noble and handsome lineaments are without record, have I vowed
that no one shall ever induce me to have my common-place phiz
perpetuated.
On reading your note again I suspect you of being a wolf in
sheep's-clothing, and that your virtuous wrath against the mass
of opera- goers springs from actual acquaintance with the scene.
134 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
You speak of the enthusiasm awakened by Jenny in almost the
same words as an experienced frequenter of that house used to
me, when I was describing the excitement I beheld. " Half of
it," he said, " was affectation, for half the Dukes and Dowagers
were stone-deaf, and just waked up to clap." As for the ex-
aggeration of " Juggernaut's car," you should see a note I received
from a young gentleman of sixty. His creed is that Jenny came
straight down from heaven and he seems disposed to found a
Lindian religion and be its first apostle. I am cool and calm
in the faith compared to many of my friends.
Who is Mr. Brooke of Ufford, near Woodbridge, who has
asked me to come and see him ? l A strange question this, but
we only know each other by meeting at Sir Thos. Cullum^s and
by bibliomania.
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
JUNE 22, 1847
MY DEAR FRIEND,
I assure thee thou hast said or written nought to
hurt my feelings. For what says Cowper, " A modest, sensible,
and well-bred man (and such I have ever found Thee), will not
offend me, and no other can ".
I only wrote as I did, professionally, to vindicate the inter-
dictory Creed, or rather practice, of my un-opera-iive Fraternity.
If thou couldst for a moment suppose it possible I dreamt of
taking to myself, personally, the hit referr'd to, thou almost
deserv'st to have another fang drawn !
"If it be possible, as far as in me lieth," I will ere the
summer be ended, and the Harvest gathered in, run down, or
up (I forget which 'tis), to Bury, but the utmost I could do
would be to leave here on a Friday and come back again on
Saturday night. On the Sunday we have no coach from or to
this place, by which I could return. So one night and a portion
1 Captain Brooke of Ufford, near Woodbridge, possessed a magnificent
library of more than 20,000 volumes, and nothing gave him greater pleasure
than to place his books at the disposal of readers and students. He was a
friend of Edward FitzGerald, who called him " our one man of books down here ".
HKKNAU1) BAKTON
of two days is all I see a ghost of a chance of giving thee. But
we mav ha\e a world of talk in even that section of time. So
lay out thy plans, my dear fellow, and follow them irrespectively
of such desk-bound, and house-bound mortals as we : only letting
me so much into the light of thy out-goings, and in-comingB,
as to enable me, if I can steal those two days (whenever they
shall dawn on me) that I may calculate with tolerable certainty
on finding thee at home. If I can work upon FitzDennis, sup-
posing him then to be "to the fore," to go with me to Bury, I
gladly will do so. This is all I can now say or do Bury-ward.
Thine truly
B.
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
I
Oh ! what's the matter, what's the matter,
Why what can ail good Bernard B. ?
"Pis ten days since he had my letter
And answer none returned has he.
II
Oh ! has he got again rheumatics
Or lost a tooth by chloroform
Or frightened been by drab schismatics
And vowed his conduct to reform ?
Ill
(The first act of his reformation
The act they most insisted on
Being to cut a)l conversation
With Mr. William Bodham Donne.)
IV
Oh ! has he cudgelled Brooke of Ufford ?
Because Brooke's masons were so slow,
Whereby the said B. B. has suffered
Alike, as guest and host, " No Go ".
V
Has Mr. Vernon sent more verses
For Bernard B. to shape and polish :
Or have the Whigs, the nation's curses,
His pension threatened to abolish ?
136 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
VI
That thus he sitteth mute and mumchance
And answer none returns to me :
By writing this I may have some chance
To know what ails good Bernard B.
PS.
Shld. Bernard B. to this queer summons
Perchance address a prompt reply :
Direct to " Coffee Room, New Hummums," l
Whither on Wednesday next go I.
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
JULY 18, 1847
DEAR BARTON,
At any other time two letters unanswered charged
to my account would amount to a declaration of Bankruptcy.
But Elections, like charity (in this respect although in no other),
cover a multitude of faults in correspondence. First came the
Bury Election. Here I have neither vote nor interest ; and one
might have thought no business. But one would then have
thought wrong. For I am popped on Mr. Bunbury's Com-
mittee and sent on embassies. Next comes the West Norfolk
Election : and there I am ordered to speak, and lie, and get up
at four in the morning and ride about in a butcher's-cart before
I had shaved and before I had breakfasted. I was indeed
awakened from sleep but not refreshed with wine : for the
poisonous black-strap which I had imbibed with the utmost
moderation the evening before, while presiding over a hundred
yeomen, made me feel like a top, and look like a sere and yellow
leaf. Praise be blest ! it is all over and I am alive to tell thee.
I have been to London, Brighton, Eastbourne, Hastings : been
on the Thames and under the Thames : seen a Behemoth
(read Job, if you are at a loss) and a wizard : seen a " wilder-
ness of monkies" and, I think, the "old serpent": sat like Sir
Roger, on Jacob's Stone, and passed in the course of four hours
from the " bosom of a serious family " into the pit of a play-
house. I have not indeed hungered often : but owing to the heat
and dust attendant on locomotion in summer, have swallowed a
1 The New Hummums, an hotel in Covent Garden.
KKKNAIU) BARTON 137
sea of drink, and moreover in this very transitory condition of
life, and amid junketings and jauntings manifold I managed to
write tin article for a Review which the Editor applauds and will
print forthwith. Henceforward look on me as no ordinary man.
I shall much like to see you hung in effigy. Your friends
should subscribe for lithographs and then I may chance to hang
you in my dining-room among such of my ancestors as migrated
hither. But ere then, as lithographising will take some time,
I hope to see the original. You remember promising to run
over this autumn. Schooling has begun again, and save a visit
to Grundisburgh, I must stay at home for many weeks to
come. I have not been so idle many a day as I have been since
the 1st July. Post is urgent and I have another letter to write.
So believe me with best remembrances to Miss Barton,
Ever yours
W. B. DONNE
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
AUG. 7, 1847
MY DEAR DOXXE,
" A certain man drew his bow at a venture," so,
or to that effect, says the text, and Ahab found to his cost it
reach'd its mark. I send my more harmless missive at quite as
great an uncertainty, for though I address it to Bury, I know not
but thou art at Bagdad. How should I ? Folks frisk about so
in this era of Rail-roads that a man's being in Suffolk to-day is
no reason why he may not be in the Scilly Isles to-morrow. . . .
I have been desk tethered after my usual wont, but three
whole blessed days of this very week I have been more tightly
tethered still for Laurence l has been down slept three nights
under my roof, and during the days appertaining to said three
nights, I suffered martyrdom by instalments. The mere act of
sitting to be studied and limn'd is a sad bore. Then the half
darkening of one window, and the entire obscuration of another,
an old curtain thrown over the picture over the fire, because the
reflected light from it distracted the artist's vision then the
1 Samuel Laurence, 1812-1884, portrait painter. Exhibited at the Society of
British Artists, 1834-1853 ; the Royal Academy, 1836-1882.
138 \V. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
iterated injunctions to look a little more that way or this
added to the effort to sit and look perfectly at your ease all
these combined make it a sorry business. However we made
the best, on the whole, I think, of a bad job.
FitzDennis read Pickwick, Lucy sate in a corner of the room
and work'd, and Tom Churchyard every now and then dropt in
to observe progress. The result has been a thumping big
head in chalks, which FitzDennis thought a very successful
performance, Lucy is perfectly satisfied with and Churchyard
says is admirable. Of the likeness I consider myself no judge,
hardly old or ugly enough I doubt, but I ought to find no fault
on this score. With the style and fashion of the execution I
am much pleased. The Artist too I was charmed with, modest,
quiet, gentlemanly and intelligent. A sad rogue though, for
not content with taking off my head and fifteen pound for the
job out of poor Lu's little Author fund he has carried all off
with him but I am to come back mounted, framed and glazed,
and then to be hung into the bargain. Barbarous doings !
Master Donne. However Lu bears her part with heroism, and
she I think has the worst on't.
Thine
B. B.
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
AUG. 30, 1847
i
You thought at Grundisburgh I should be till Monday morn a fixture,
And come and see on Friday or on Saturday your picture ;
But Saturday and Friday both they passed away " like winking " ;
And so it was impossible to do as you were thinking.
2
At houses, such as Mr. GV. 1 they do not breakfast early,
And if you don't talk politics they think you odd and surly;
So after breakfast and till lunch we talked of " Coke and Hamond "
And how the Norfolk Whigs and Tories one another gammoned.
3
My host indeed on Friday morn, he offered me a pony,
But then, thinks I, I seldom ride, and now the roads are stony,
And if I break the pony's knees, or if my nose I flatten,
I'd better far have kept at Bury, teaching Greek and Latin.
1 Mr. Brampton Gurdon.
BERNARD BARTON
HKUNARD BAUTON
4
And Saturday, you know, I said must really end my stopping,
And Mrs. G. she said she must on Saturday go shopping ;
So oft" we drove to Ipswich, and went round to all the drapers
And walked so much you might have said we were a pair of trapers.
5
That afternoon I saw the moon ere Mrs. G. departed ;
And by that time the Bury trains had all but one off-started
So at past 8 I joined a freight of Christian souls and timber,
And here I am once more at home a doing " Dr. Blimber ".
W. B. D.
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
BURY ST. EDMUNDS
SEPTEMBER 30TH/47
DEAR BARTON,
Neither have I been in the hands of the Philis-
tines nor gone astray with, as you account them, the sons of
Belial who flocked to Jenny Lind. But like yourself, as my
paper indicates, I have been to a funeral, and still regret the
loss of a most worthy man and relative.
Not long since my mother who is at Yarmouth greatly
cheered me by writing word that you had declared to Mrs.
Salmon " you would accept no invitation but mine ". I felt
proud of the preference, and did not much care for the envy you
might thereby have drawn upon me, or for any ill-will you
might have personally incurred.
But now you have included me also in the common herd of
refusals, I join issue with your other acquaintance in denouncing
you as a fraudulent banker, and in wishing your new clerk, the
cause of my wrongs, may prove a second Fauntleroy l or Sangar.
Look to your iron safe.
Roger's robbery was never traced home, and if I can abstract
your fine gold and promises to pay, I will spend the one and
burn the other.
See you what homage the divine Jenny received at Norwich ?
The Churches worshipped her with all their bells. The Bishop
shed tears of rapture and wiped them off with his apron. So I
am not, like Elijah, alone in my devotions, but a true member
1 Fauntleroy, a fraudulent banker, executed 1824.
W. B. DONNE AN 7 D HIS FRIENDS
of a very populous sect of believers. She comes back to her
temple in London next year, and by that time I trust we shall
be numerous enough to begin persecuting Quakers, and inhale
the delightful odour of a singed broad-brim. I advise you to
come and see me ere then, or I shall hand you over to the
musical powers. Remember Gardiner protected Roger Ascham,
though a stift' Protestant, through all the Marian burnings.
We live in such piping times of peace that Bury fair is pro-
claimed with no more excitement than attends the crying a
stolen goose. Time was when the Mayor, the burgesses, the
Recorder, and the Captain of the local Militia, " the treasurers,
the councillors, the sheriffs, and all the rulers of the town were
gathered together " to hear the announcement of a Mart where
all good housewives purchased their year's sugar and flannel,
and where all men of any mark or worship ate sausages and
mustard in the market-place, and made resolves, which they
kept, to be drunk at least thrice during the statute-month.
Now, a dropsical Mayor followed by four scarecrows in blue
and yellow liveries, and preceded by a tame lunatic with a bell,
informs the four quarters of the town of the opening of the
Carnival. The only relics of the past are the yellow breeches of
the serving men which typify the mustard, and their oblong
and shaking noses emblematic of sausages.
I have long acted on your beatitude
" Blessed are they who expect nothing, for they shall not be
disappointed ". It is so good a maxim, that I wonder it was not
uttered 1817 years ago. Nevertheless, though I expect him not,
I shall be right glad to see your " Cottager " [E. FG.].
Remember me to Miss Barton and believe me,
Ever yours truly
WILLIAM B. DONNE
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
OCTOBER 7, 1847
DEAR DONNE,
. . . Still harping on that Lindean Wench ! So
is old Crabbe, who saw and heard her at Norwich, and for aught
BEKNAKI) BARTON 141
I know, will carry her image enshrin'd in his heart with him to
the Grave, if it be not quenched in those clouds of smoke he
emits every night. He does not speak well of her looks tho',
but says she looks a poor, pale, attenuated Ghost of a Girl, and
who can wonder ? Such hours, such a life, in such an unhealthy
and unnatural atmosphere ! Well, her blood, or the lack of it
in her cheeks, rests not on my head. " She cannot shake her
silky curls at me, and say, * Thou did'st it ! ' ' But as old Adam
Woodcock, Falconer to the Knight of Avenel, said, " Tace is
Latin for a Candle," so I upbraid no one, perhaps the Bishop's
tears might not be of rapture only ! Has a squib somewhat
after this fashion fallen in thy way ? I only heard it once at
S the other evening, so very likely I misquote it, and may mar
its point, if it have any
'Tis a truth Ornithologists long have confest,
That the Cuckoo will fly to the Hedge-sparrow's nest,
But the Bishop of Norwich has taught us to know,
That the Nightingale visits the nest of the Crow. 1
Notwithstanding my quotation, however, I honour the old
Bishop for being the poor Girl's host. I only wish he could keep
her there quietly and snugly with his daughters thro' the winter,
out of the glare of gas-lights, the heat of crowded rooms, and
the clapping of deaf Dukes and Dowagers, bring her out as
fresh as a cowslip in the spring and marry her to her Lutheran
Lover. She might then go and sing Cradle Songs to her Childer
in Fatherland, and be a happy and long-lived wife and mother.
Would not this be a more enjoyable life than the poor Girl has
of late had ? Marry ! I think it would but I am a Goth and
Vandal, an ear-less Quaker.
Thine, however
B. B.
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
BURY ST. EDMUNDS
NOVEMBER 3RD, 1847
DEAR BARTON,
When one has nothing particular to say, it is a
part of wisdom to forbear writing. I am in that predicament :
1 Edward Stanley, Bishop of Norwich, went by the nickname of" Jem Crow ".
W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
and not only so but have lately been much occupied with
worldly business. Know you by these presents that until
Saturday last I have been as good as Steward of five manors for
nearly twelve years. But the Lord of the Manors is lately
dead, and a new Pharaoh has come who knows not Joseph and
I am no longer Steward. I view my abdication with unmixed
satisfaction, as the office brought me much trouble and the
profits went to another [Mr. Hewitt].
Moreover my expulsion may indirectly tend to prolongation
of my days, since now I shall travel seldomer by the Eastern
Counties Railway, and therefore shall have fewer chances of
being squashed. I do not see that improvement in Science and
Political economy has aught to do with the present monetary
crisis. More people than formerly are engaged in trade, and
consequently there is more emulation and more risk. Besides
political economy does not, as far as I am aware, in any of its
theories inculcate gambling, and gambling is the cause of the
distress. Therefore, in Lord John's place, I would not, unless
with sanction of Parliament, have loosened a single screw in the
Banking Machine. What good has it done this indulgence to
the desperate ? The Funds rise for a few hours and drop again.
Political economy professes the greatest happiness of the greatest
number. Now competence not opulence, is the way to be
happy whereas all in the present mess have been striving to
be rich, and many of them are rightfully smarting for their
exorbitance. I am no believer in good old times they had
their faults and follies and we ours. I had as lief be in the
Gazette as tied to a tar-barrel for heresy, or pining in a dungeon
till I bought my freedom with gold.
I quite despair of seeing you this year, since you speak of
being glued to the desk till the spring. How does the new
Clerk prove ? Thank your stars that you have not me in his
place. I am anything but a ready reckoner, and have no skill
in Compound and Simple Interest. I could never learn at
school the mysteries of Barter and Tare and Tret, but cove-
nanted with more calculating boys to do their verses and transla-
tions, so they would work my sums. The bargain was probably
for the ultimate disadvantage of both parties. They cannot,
UKRNARl) BARTON 143
if they are alive, construe Homer, and I this very night have
signally failed in working a sum in the Golden Rule. This
being the ninth letter I have written to-night must now close.
The same post takes one from me to the " Cottage " or I would
add my remembrances.
Ever yours
WILLIAM B. DONM:
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
NOVEMBER 5, 1847
DEAR DONNE,
I won't argue with thee about improvement in
Science and Political Economy having got us into our present
dolorous dibbles, because the very phrase seems to me to imply
a contradiction. Improvement of any sort should never make
things worse, unless it were in Ireland where results naturally
go by contraries.
I know lamentably little of Science, less than nothing, if that
be possible, about Political Economy, but it does seem queer to
me, in this March of Intellect Age, that the more we fancy we
know, the more hopelessly we flounder in all sorts of dilemmas
and difficulties. As to the " greatest happiness principle to the
greatest number," it has a pretty sound with it, and glides
trippingly off the tongue, but I never could, for the life of me,
see it intelligibly explained. I think it was Bentham who first
broach'd this theory and Bentham I always was too stupid to
understand. . . .
Thine ever affectionately
B. B.
Bernard Barton to W, B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
NOVEMBER 20, 1847
DEAR DOXXE,
I heard the other day of the critical state of thy
good wife's mother (Hewitt I think by name). Cowper has
given me a sort of interest in all bearing the names of Donne,
Hewitt or Balls. I opine these were the trio of names of which
144 \V. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
I retain a cordial memory as connected with Him. The Donnes
I have long learnt to love for their own sakes. The Hewitts
and Balls I feel an interest in as ramifications of that genea-
logical tree. Edward told me thou wast off into Norfolk to see
Mrs. Hewitt. By this thou mayst probably have gotten into
thy Den again. Anyhow I feel inclined to hazard a line or two
of inquiry about thy Patient and thyself, feeling solicitude
enough about both to wan-ant me in doing so.
Edward [FG.] slept here last night, and left us for Ipswich
this morning. He returns from thence I think on Monday, as
his Father is expected next week to stop a fortnight at Boulge,
such at least is the talk. I send thee a scrap of my verse which
I forwarded to the " Ipswich Express " last week anonymously, but
the publisher, as a polite way of letting me know he was aware
of its paternity, struck off a dozen copies, while it was in type,
and sent them to me in an envelope without note or comment.
I know not how they may suit thy taste. I have not shown
them either to Lucy or Edward (FitzGerald) as I knew they
never saw the Paper so they are as yet uncriticized.
Thine truly
B. B.
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
Nov. 23, 1847
DEAR BARTON,
Mrs. Hewitt died seven and twenty years ago
last September. She was Johnny of Norfolk's sister and is
herself celebrated in Cowper's letters. I have a nice portrait of
her by Abbot, which you may see for coming hither.
Your informant was not however utterly wrong, i.e., he was
right in the name and in the connexion to myself; but wrong
in the sex. I went last week into Norfolk to attend Mr. Hewitt's
last hours : and I go thither to bury him on Saturday next.
He had long been a grievous sufferer from stone and ossification
of the heart. Either disease commonly despatches most men
without waiting for their 76th year, but poor Mr. Hewitt was
almost a giant in build and constitution, and so his sufferings,
and very grievous they were, and withal most patiently endured,
v
'j^ffr
MRS. HEWITT (CATHARINE JOHNSON)
BERN A HI) BARTON 145
lasted for more than fourteen years. He survived his intellect
also, and his death is in all respects a release from tribulation.
I cannot therefore mourn his departure : yet I am not
untouched by his death. The last link with my dear wife's
name and family is now broken, 1 and I perhaps felt the more
attached to him, from my being the only relative who for many
years saw anything of him. He had been unprosperous, and so
the herd swept by him.
I like thy lines well and thank you for sending me a copy.
You must be content however with this correction of your
genealogical error, and take a short note, as I have several to
indite by this day's post.
With best remembrances to Miss Barton,
Evers yours most truly
WILLIAM B. DONNE
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
DECEMBER 2, 1847
MY DEAR DONNE,
By this I take it thou hast returned from doing
the last kind and mournful offices to poor Mr. Hewitt. I have
seldom read an obituary so touching though brief, and can
perfectly enter into the feelings which directed it.
Lu has been occupied for days in a task almost as Herculean
as clearing out an Augean stable, routing over boxes of letters
accumulated from indolence and forgetfulness during about a
quarter of a century. I would not have taken the job in hand
for a king's ransom. I remember Scott in his " Gurnal " says
after only one morning spent after a like fashion that he
never before so felt and understood the concatenation between
Ahitophel setting his house in order, and then straightway
going and hanging himself. I have no fear of Lu doing so, for
few of the letters materially concern her, nor could she even
attempt to read them; a glance at the signature was all she
1 Mr. Hewitt was father-in-law to W. B. Donne, and a lawyer by profession.
He married his cousin Catharine Johnson, the sister of Cowper's " Johnny of
Norfolk",
10
146 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
could have time to give, prior to consigning them to the pile
for burning, or the lesser one to lay by for consideration
Thine ever
B. B.
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
1847
MY DEAR BARTON,
I have written so many letters since my return
on Saturday that I am bankrupt in black-edged paper. Nor
can I remedy the deficiency without going out of the door.
This the weather and natural laziness forbid ; but as Quakers
never put on mourning, the want of a sable border may serve
as a mark of respect to yourself. I can quite sympathise with
Miss Barton in her literary Auto da Fe, seeing I must have
been engaged in a similar task at or about the same time.
The desk and boxes, to say nothing of the closets, of a deceased
lawyer may contain perilous secrets ; and therefore I deemed
it fitting to review all Mr. Hewitt's papers before leaving
Mattishall. It was literally an "Augean" labour. For many
parcels had been undisturbed since they were red-taped and
docketed in 1799. The red-tape had become dim, and the
dust and worms had coated the packets with a thick brown
encrustation.
It is, I fancy, a common saying that every one must, ere he
dies, eat a peck of dirt. Would that all my duties in this life
had been as certainly fulfilled ! For, if not earlier, on Monday
in last week I assuredly swallowed my full allowance, and I
incline to think it was a Benjamin's mess. Poor Mrs. Bodham
entailed on me a similar task ; and there were some of her letters
which, in ceremonious diction between near and dear friends,
resemble the letters you describe. Perhaps as times advance
our correspondence will grow as obsolete ; and your executor's
grandchildren, if you are so much my enemy as to keep a scrap
of my writing, will one revision-day set me down for a formal
old prig. I remember making two laughable discoveries among
my good and great Aunt's papers. She was the most charitable
of women, or men either (if I may venture such a phrase) and
till her pocket had been repeatedly picked, would never think
.1. M. KKMBLK 147
any one a rogue. But she was executor to a pious rascal named
Rudd, and was, I believe, let in by him to the tune of 50.
Rudd's executorial accounts are labelled by her thus, " Rudd's
affairs " mem. " Rudd, great rogue ".* In an old pocket-book
of 1754, I found in Mrs. B.'s mother's handwriting the following
memorandum, "Aug. 7th, nearly choked by a piece of veal
such are thy mercies, Lord, to me a sinner".
We have a wizard and sundry Devils next door 2 [i.e., the
theatre], and I and my posterity are going to be bewitched to-day.
I hope we shall fare better than Saul at Endor. Yet we may in
some measure without bad results fare alike. For whereas the
witch of yore made the King eat and drink, so our wizard is a
hospitable one and converts horsebeans in a moment into hot
coffee, and hands it round to the audience. Marry, except in
the suddenness of the transmutation, no witch or wizard is
needed for this feat, as horsebeans are ordinarily much used for
the same end by grocers.
With best remembrances to Miss Barton,
Ever yours truly
WILLIAM DOXXK
DECEMBER JTH, 1847
BURY ST. EDMUNDS
Love to E. FG.
J. M. Kemble to W. B. Donne
COMMON WOOD
RlCKMANSWORTH, HERTS
20/12/47
MY DEAR WILLIAM,
First let me ask what you are all about : what
you are yourself doing beyond the dull but respectable employ-
ment of pedagoguing your boys for their prig of a pedagogue
at the school : how they get on, etc. I meant to have run
over to ask all these questions "viva voce," but my presence at
1 The " Rogue Rudd " was always trying to borrow money from the Donnes.
On one occasion he sent a messenger to say that unless he could have a certain
sum at once, he should hang himself on one of the trees in Mattishall garden.
Mr. Edward Donne replied, " Give my compliments to Mr. Rudd, and tell him
that any tree in the garden is at his disposal ".
2 Mr. Donne's house was next to the theatre.
148 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
Cambridge was imperatively necessary. Then I have been at
Cheltenham for two months. Nothing can be more attractive
than the valley of the Severn, for your genuine historian, especi-
ally if he be but a lover of nature, or have an eye for the
beautiful ; and without both, a poor historian he will be. The
Welsh Mountains, the last and impregnable fortresses of a race
to which one must give the praise of a determined patriotism,
are before him. The great river to which Glevum and Uri-
conium owed their importance lies at his feet.
A little imagination will restore the numberless villas whose
ruins turned up from time to time by the plough, attest the
predilection of the Romans for this delicious site. If you idly
stoop to pick up a tile behold it is Samian pottery or strong
hard bond tile ; a coloured stone attracts you ? It is a portion
of Roman Glass. You think some peasant has dropped a half-
penny ? May be so, but the peasant died nearly two thousand
years ago, and the halfpenny is a denarius of the Caesars. Along
the hills on which you stand, every bluff is an ancient fortress ;
here time out of mind, have been the lines of defence of inland
nations against their more western neighbours ; every hill is
crowned with earthworks ; rude, massive and irregular as the
Britons made them ; more skilfully placed and better built when
Roman soldiers erected them ; used in turn, though not con-
structed, by the Saxon, whose remains are sometimes found to
mark his occupation ; while over all frowns the tumulus of a
restless Viking overlooking even in death the plains he devas-
tated and plundered.
I could go on and expatiate on this subject for sheets
together if I were not sure that my gazette would end by
wearing out even your patience, so I will only add that I
returned to Common Wood, much better in heart and head
and stomach which alas ! has so much to do with both with
a pocket-book full of memoranda, and a sketch-book full of
churches, forts, piscinas, sedilia, arches, and what not ?
Yr. affect, friend
J. M. KEMBLE
BERNARD BARTON 149
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDQE
DECEMBER 21, 1847
DEAR Doxxt.
I want thy frank and honest opinion and advice
touching a project I have meditated, on and off, for some few
years past. N.B. I have no thoughts of marrying, tho' this
sort of introduction looks like it. But I have some thoughts of
setting about a new work, in an entirely new line of Authorship
for me. Recollections of my Life and Times, with sketches and
portraits of divers and sundry folks who have fallen in my way,
or with whom I have in one way or another held intercourse,
interspersed with a sort of running commentary on some of the
events which have transpired during the thirty or forty years
which have elapsed since I reached manhood.
It strikes me that a very amusing and gossiping sort of book
might be produced by any man pretty well acquainted with the
general literature of the last thirty years, not of the most pro-
found or learned character, with a sort of running vein of auto-
biographic souvenirs. Few persons in humble and comparatively
obscure life, buried alive in a little provincial Town for above
forty years, have been thrown in the way of greater varieties
of character, or mixed with the middle grades of Society more
perhaps, than I have done ; or have held at different periods
more widely differing opinions. So that I think I am about
as free from narrow or sectarian prejudices, and contracted
sympathies as most. The actual incidents of my life, to be
sure, have been very few, but I have read, and thought and
observed what has been going on around me, tolerably, for a
desk-bound wight, and I fancy I could put together a pretty
readable record. One thing I must premise, it will be a work
of no pretence either as to style or arrangement, plan or method.
It must be written by fits and starts, as, when, and how my
scant intervals of leisure may allow. So it must needs be, in
degree, a thing of shreds and patches, the " disjuncta membra " of
an Autobiography, rather than a complete and finished specimen
of its class. But I think it might be rendered amusing, interest-
ing, and perhaps not uninstructive. Of course this hasty and
150 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
imperfect description of what I contemplate can give thee no
clear or definite idea of what the work might turn out, but
I may have said enough to give thee a notion of the plan and
project glimmering before me. Let me have thy honest senti-
ments as to its feasibility, and regard it as only thought, on
paper, for thy judgment.
Thine ever truly
B. B.
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
DECEMBER 24, 47
BURY ST. EDMUNDS
DEAR BARTON,
I believe that every man who has had much inter-
course either of business, correspondence, or converse with his
fellowmen, may write an instructive and interesting book of his
own experiences and reminiscences, provided always he keeps
aloof from the idea of bookmaking, and tells his story honestly,
genially, and pointedly. If our fireside chat could be taken
down as freshly and simply as we utter it, it would often be
more eloquent and wiser than tomes of studied prose. The men
of the 17th century wrote memoirs in this spirit, and without
fear of reviewers. They wrote because a thought was in their
hearts, and not because they wanted the world to say " Quam
belli " ! Hence Baxter, Bunyan, Pepys and Mrs. Hutchinson
delight us still, and still delight thousands to be born after
we are past reading. Moreover every man should have a record
of himself in hand even if it be only for himself. It is marvellous
how much one may hive of wisdom and wit by booking from
time to time stray thoughts and casual anecdotes. Goethe said
that he read books not so much for what they told him as for
what they reflected of the character of their respective authors,
and this which is true of works on general subjects, is especially
true of Memoirs. It is their business to be the abstract and
brief chronicle of their authors' self, and thus to furnish pictures
in little of the Macrocosm of men generically. What is more
charming than an autobiography like Madame Roland's, where
events are viewed through the medium of a second pair of eyes,
or, conversely, more intolerable than the greater number of
BERNARD BARTON 151
religious Biographies wherein Mr. A.'s experience is tortured into
resemblance with Mr. B.'s, A. and B. being all the while as unlike
in their mental constitutions as the Knight and Castle moves are
to each other on the Chess Board ?
Wherefore for these reasons, all and sundry, I counsel you
strenuously to think no more of your project, but forthwith to
put it into act. Only write your thoughts and stories as well as
you tell them, and I will answer for your book being welcome
and pleasant.
Ever y rs . truly
W. B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
JAN. 3, 1848
MY DEAR FRIEND,
That my good wishes may not turn sour with
keeping, I write an immediate reply to your kind letter just
received. Thereby I shall avoid any general reproach from my
own conscience, but also all special rebukes from you, such as I
have had ere now for tardy epistolation.
You have doubtless heard of the wondrous virtues of chloro-
form. I have not another tooth to lose, neither have I perilled
my life again by inhalation. But I am not now to speak of my
own adventures but of a judgment which has befallen the Doctors
themselves.
Last week six or seven of what the Indians call "great
Medecines " gathered round the bed of a poor fellow in the Bury
Hospital with the purpose of mangling him. The Operator had
his apron on and his sleeves tucked up. The Nurse approached
with a bottle of chloroform, and the " depity sawbones," as Sam
Weller calls the apprentices, awaited a lesson. The Nurse
stumbled and fell. The bottle broke. The " great Medecines "
were prostrated by the somniferous vapour, and lay, some on
each other, some on the Nurse, some on the patient, insensible
for many minutes.
Ever y rs .
W. B. DONNE
152 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
JAN. 21, 1848
MY DEAR BARTON,
Though I am particularly busy to-day, I cannot
resist your kind wish to hear speedily of my dear little girl.
She is, thank God, much better and can walk across the room
with little or no aid.
The pastime of Crocodile is certainly not original. 1 Boc-
caccio tells a story closely resembling it, and you have found it
sculptured on wood. Doubtless the "Canon" was a learned
clerk and was realizing what he had read. So perhaps after all
he was no such ill judge of heresy and orthodoxy.
When I was a young man I was noted for eschewing Balls,
and seldom exhibited my agility in the dance. But now that my
hair grizzles, and my eyes need barnacles, I am fallen upon
galliards and brawls. On Wednesday I was at a party of 150,
and to-night I am going to another such junketing. But so
Plutarch records of Theseus that in his youth he was grave and
laborious, ridding the earth of monsters and doing other praise-
worthy deeds ; but in his old age he occupied himself with
abductions and adulteries, insomuch that Plutarch doubts
whether his history has not been inverted and the later end of
his life related before the beginning. And perhaps when my
life is written, my biographer will be perplexed by this incon-
sistency and write, " I cannot well make this man out. In his
early manhood he loved his books, his elbow-chair and his pipe, but
as he grew older he much consorted with publicans and sinners."
Should you be living when my life is writing let the "able
editor " have this note and if he has any gratitude in him, he
will send you a copy of his book.
With kind regards to Miss Barton,
Ever y rs . truly
WM. B. DONNE
JAN. 21
BURY ST. EDMUNDS
1 This refers to a story of a certain Dr H. who, in "advanced age,
married a young wife. Her gossips were condoling with her after the mar-
riage on the long dull evenings she must spend with her old man. She said,
1 Oh I they are not dull at all we play at Crocodile '. ' Crocodile, my dear,
what's that?' Why, after dinner Dr. H. goes on all fours round and round
the room, and I ride on his back.' " I quote this from a letter of W. B. Donne
to Bernard Barton, isth January, 1848. ED.
BERNARD BARTON 153
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
BURY ST. EDMUNDS
APRIL I3TH, 1848
Is E. FG. at Boulge ?
MY DEAR BARTON,
I am in debt to you a letter which I deferred
paying before I went to London that I might have some news
to tell you, and now I am come back as wise as I went.
If you want to see London thoroughly, take with you a boy
or other person who has never seen it before. By lionising my
children I am become wondrous wise myself. The Thames
Tunnel which I saw last Dog-days might have fallen in ere
tempting me alone to visit it, and Madame Tussaud's wax
humanities might have glared till Doomsday. I know now the
physiognomy of all the remarkable murderers from Henry VIII.
to Courvoisier, and I cannot help thinking it rather an en-
couragement to break the sixth commandment, that, by so doing,
you ensure crowds of admirers in Baker Street, Portman Square
[now Marylebone Road]. It may not be true fame, but it is
fame, and fame has odd caprices, since it makes people give
sixpence extra to see among other things equally curious a
pocket-handkerchief used by Napoleon when his nose bled.
We have just started an Archaeological Society in Bury, but
I suspect there are very few antiquaries among us. At least
already some dismay is legible in the countenances of members
at the prospect of having to read papers on the forgotten things
of this town and neighbourhood. I have some idea of cribbing
Monkbarns' essay on his Praetorium and applying it to an old
mound near my house. It could not be more inappropriate
than was Capt. Manby's gift to the Norwich archaeologists at
their first meeting. The vain old man sent them models of his
life-preserver which, as it related to the living and not to the
departed, was as unarchaeological a present as could be devised.
Had he fished up a few skeletons of Danish rovers from the
Suffolk coast, or the sword of Brian Boroome out of the
Waveney, however ugly the things might have been, they
would have handed his name down to posterity. For you must
know that in general the less useful anything is, the more it is
154 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
prized by archaeologists. However such societies have their
uses. They save the historian much dirty work, and they afford
a pretext for dining together now and then.
I have seen a good deal of late of a worthy neighbour of
yours, John Hinds Groome, of Earl Soham. 1 Under a somewhat
clumsy exterior he has a great deal of knowledge and fun. We
can both talk in perfection a dialect not much in use in the
upper circles, viz., broad Norfolk, i.e., we not merely use the
words but we think the thoughts of the " pisantry ". It would
do you good to hear us hold imaginary conversations. I am
coming to see him in the summer and seem establishing ac-
quaintance in your neighbourhood.
Ever yours truly
WM. B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
MAY 17, 1848
MY DEAR BARTON,
Jenny has come again and has brought all this fine
weather. Yet I have not been to hear her yet ! My abstinence
is not the result of indifference but of " dreadful destitution ". I
cannot afford the journey and its contingencies. Could you not
raise a small subscription for me as " a living relative of the
poet Cowper in distress " ? You have at Woodbridge artists and
literary men who must feel for me. I would go cheap, sleeping
in the dry arches of Waterloo bridge and spunging on my
friends. A soup-plate full of pence might suffice. It is very
mortifying to me to see what sums they gathered here on
Sunday and Monday for the " Conversion of the Jews," and not
a farthing of it coming to myself. Am I not better than many
Jews ? When next you dress yourself " put on," among other
raiment, "bowels of compassion ".
Have you seen a cordial kindly life of Goldsmith by John
Forster ? It is well worth the marking, and brings out " poor
Goldy's " true character, which his contemporaries misunderstood
and bequeathed their mistake to others. I always loved Gold-
smith better than any of his set, and not only for his " Vicar"
1 Brother of FitzGerald's friend the Archdeacon of Suffolk.
BERNARD BARTON 155
and his " Village,' 1 etc., but for his Natural History. He write*
like the Animal's friend.
FitzGerald did manifest his existence in the way you supposed,
viz., by walking into the room. Why cannot you afford me a
similar proof that you are something more than a name ? It
would be much better to come here than to catch cold on
Aldborough cliffs.
Ever y rs .
WILLIAM B. DONNE
BURY ST. EDMUNDS
MAY lyTH, 1848
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
MAY 18, 1848
DEAR DONNE,
Glad was I once more to see thy well-known
hand, it gives me an excuse to write to thee, which thy constant
reports of the overwhelming pressure of thy multifarious occupa-
tions make one afraid to venture on, unauthorized. I send thee
herewith No. four of my printed, not published, trifles, in the
form of a little Memorial of my good old friend Major Moor.
Thou didst not know the man or thou wouldst be more likely
to tolerate my tribute to his memory than I dare now hope for.
The last Page is by thy new friend Groome, and the last few
lines of it the Major might have " walked " for.
I have just had a visit from my Gentleman Brother out of
Hampshire. He ran on in a very laudatory style touching a
late Article in the " Edinburgh " on Plato ! which I think I have
heard Edward FitzGerald fix on thee. How canst thou, my
dear fellow, reconcile it to thy conscience to be an " Edinburgh "
Reviewer and never to have given me an Article therein ? Hast
thou not my incomparable Volume of " Household Verses "-
and besides them four slender Sheetlings or half Shcetlings
under the titles of "Sea-weeds" "New-Year offering to the
Queen " " Birth-day Verses " and the " More Majorum " I now
transmit all the latter un-sunn'd Pleasures of which the world
knows no more than of the lost Books of the Sybil ? I am only
surprised thou canst sleep o' nights with such a debt unpaid !
156 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
But I spare thee. I really would come to Bury if I could, but
I can't get out. Of late, my bellows seem getting out of repair.
I puff and pant like an Otter, and often feel as if in the words
of the old Sea Song
Both chain pumps were choked below.
Unluckily I belong not to a rhyming fraternity, or I might
ere this have been set desk-free. Our Friends are reputed a rich
Sect, and they are a liberal one in their way. To the distrest
Irish they gave thousands, to the Negro Cause ditto ! " Am I
not a Man and a Brother ? " But I can neither sue them " in
forma pauperis," or even drop a hint that I stand a fair chance
of falling from my perch and dying in clerkly harness. This
growl and grumble is only for thy private ear to open the valve
an inch that I may get breath !
Thine B.
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
MAY 26, 1848
MY DEAR BARTON,
Many thanks for your letter and its welcome
inclosure, which I like very much as a cordial graphic picture of
a good man whom I could well wish to have known. Put out
of your head immediately all unnecessary scruples about writing
to me. I may not be very punctual in answering it never was
a grace vouchsafed me so to be. But I am always glad to see
your handwriting, and albeit busy, am not half so hard wrought
as yourself. I am very sorry you speak ill of your bellows and
of your basis one comes of leaning and the other of sitting too
much. I shall bring an action against Alexander & Co. for de-
priving me of your company? and, as damages must be awarded,
will pay them to you.
I did not write the article on Plato in the last Edinburgh,
so Mr. Barton's praises must go further to find an owner. As
to putting you or any one else into the Review, I have as much
power to do it, as to order you at sight to pay me 4/20 having
no assets at the time. I am, as regards Reviewing, a man under
authority, and when Empson says do this, I do it. Moreover
"in this crash of nations and this fall of thrones," I doubt, even
UKIlNAlll) BARTON 157
if I criticised you, whether the still small voice of poetry would
be hearkened to.
I have sent the Picture of Cowper's Mother to be cleaned
and repaired in London, and Laurence is kind enough to
superintend its refreshment. So that I expect when it comes
back to have a magnet which will draw you to Bury, even
though a Ledger is chained to each leg, and your high stool is
where " Coi-isca's ladle " w
I have just written a work which will last a century and may
probably much longer. It is to be engraven on marble and
imbedded in granite. A fig for such writers as you who use
only ink and paper ! That the thought of my immortality may
not perplex you too much and cause errors in summation, I add
that it is an Inscription for the late LA. Leicester's monument,
and it will brave the winds and the rain in Holkham Park.
Now I must set to work on a life of Terence, so farewell and
wish me well through it, as it is not very interesting and rather
meagre and fabulous as respects the materials.
Ever yours most truly
WILLIAM BODHAM DOXM;
BURY ST. EDMUNDS
MAY 26-TH, 1848
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
BURY ST. EDMUNDS
JULY i8TH, 1848
MY DEAR BARTON,
Absence from home has prevented me from answer-
ing your last letter and thanking you for the poem it contained.
I have been traversing the county of Norfolk from Dan to Beer-
sheba, and strange to say have been in a part of it previously
unknown to me, tramper as I am or rather have been in days of
yore. Did you ever hear of a place yclept Castle Rising, about
four miles north-east of Lynn ? There is an old Castle and Barony
belonging to the Howards, who, though they were disfranchised
by the Reform Bill, still exercise a most perfect despotism in
their territories. Their power is mostly shown in doing good.
The cottages are pictures and the farmers are all fat. Howbeit
all unruly subjects are summarily dismissed, even young ladies
158 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
who meet with "misfortunes" are not allowed to remain in
this Goshen. I wish England, were or rather could be, half as
well governed as the demesnes of Mrs. Frances Howard. It
would have done you good to see from the Castle-top, as I did,
the sun sink into the sea, and the moon rise full faced over the
green level of wood and meadow eastward. Marry! besides
feeding our eyes we fed our bodies ; the Agent for the estate
was my host, and collected from the tenants such a quit rent of
barn-door fowls, raspberries and cream and other pastoral dainties
as will make me for ever after venerate copyhold tenure and
despotic government. Moreover we had a pail full of water
from the old Castle well, as clear as crystal ; but do not therefore
fancy that we drank like beasts the pure element out of the pail,
on the contrary it contained something out of the Lady of the
Manor's cellar which, combined with real Havannahs, smuggled
of course, rendered us all supremely comfortable.
Attached to the Hall is a college for old women ! They do
not, like other dames at Cambridge and Oxford, wrangle for their
fellowships, or, that I know of, read deep in Homer or Euclid.
But probation is necessary. They must be sixty years of age
and virtuous ; and if they are both, all worldly cares are taken
from them, and they wear high crowned hats and blue gowns,
and scarlet cloaks, and may perhaps ride on broom-sticks, for
their costume suggests the idea.
[Here follow some sketches of costumes.]
I was in jest when I surmised you might be affronted. What
I said was " I had now and then corrected your verses, and I
remembered how it fared with Gil Bias and the Bishop of
Grenada in the matter of the homilies".
Had you an awful storm on Friday night ? Here a farm
house and premises were burnt down, and roast pig 1 was pro-
duced to an extent that might draw Elia from his grave. With
best remembrances to Miss Barton.
Ever y rs . truly
WM. B. DOXM
1 " Dissertation on Roast Pig" by Elia.
BKRNAR1) BARTON 159
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDOE
JULY 22, 1848
DEAR DONNE,
Many thanks for thy most pleasant epistle and
its market no Castle Rising recollections. Faith, it would
have been a high treat to me to have risen to such altitudes,
as that old Castle top, and still more should I have enjoyed the
festivities thereafter ; I should have fancied myself a rising
character, which I have now long despaired of realising. But
nothing is perfect, not even a Castle Rising Symposium. Those
cigars would have soon laid me prostrate. They would have
drown'd the finer aroma of " mon tabac". Your thorough
going smoker " robs me of that which doth not enrich him, but
leaves me poor indeed ". I never could understand the beati-
tude of a man's filling his mouth with smoke, and then puffing
it out again for the beatification of the eyes, noses and other
organs of all round him, but there may be a mystical glorification
in the process, hidden from me. I suppose there is. Thy
sketch of the Bedes-woman of Castle-Rising and thy own Cran-
ium, so crown'd, are both capital. Pray use all thy interest
with thy quondam Host, the agent of good Mrs. Frances
Howard, to found and endow a similar College for old men
above 60 and nominate me as first Provost. I should like
mightily to have all worldly cares taken from me, and lead a
life of blessed idleness, bating my poetical avocations. His
agent-ship may tell Mrs. Frances Howard that I will be her
Laureate into the bargain, and indite for her a ditty annually,
half yearly, or quarterly, whichever she may prefer. . . . Moxon
has just sent me two slender tomes, the "Final Remains of
Charles Lamb ". I have only had 'em an hour or two, and
have not yet cut 'em open, but in dipping in here and there I
met with rather a rich anecdote. A rather precise Lady of
Lamb's acquaintance, lent him, when it first came out, " Coslebs
in search of a Wife ". I can hardly fancy a book less likely
to take Lamb's fancy. It was very soon returned with the
following stanza, to the best of my recollection, written by Lamb
in the first leaf:
160 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
If I were to search out a wife,
I'd marry the Landlord's daughter ;
For then I might sit in the bar
And drink cold brandy and water.
Only fancy a precise lady's total surprise at such a commentary
on Calebs! I send thee another poem of mine, or Homily
in Verse, not much unlike the Archbishop's after his fit, and
which I fancy I see thee arching thy eyebrows, and dropping
thy nether jaw over. I sent one to a lady the other day, and
her husband met me last evening and asked me gravely if there
was anything personal in it ! ! !
Thine truly
*B. B.
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
AUGUST 7, 1848
DEAR DONNE,
I have a letter to-night from your secretary Tymms,
requesting of me an impression of that queer old Seal I once,
if I mistake not, applied to thee for an explanation of. Lord
Northampton had it engraved for the Archaeological Journal,
with a statement of where it was found (Stoke by Clare) and
its supposed device. Tymms says your Society are to hold
the next meeting of your local institute at Clare, and perhaps
he may fancy the impress may be more easily deciphered at or
near the spot of its disinterment. I don't see much in the
hypothesis, should he hold such an one, but I have sealed my
response to his application with a very fair impress of said Seal,
and send it by this night's post, though the odds are that the
postmaster here or at Bury may sorely mar both device, and
legend, or motto, in stamping the Letter, maugre my modest
hint on the outside deprecatory of any such violent proceedings.
Should it be demolished, and your learned Society still be
desirous of possessing and preserving so invaluable a relique,
we must hit on some safer mode of transmission.
I think I told thee of this second publication about poor
Lamb, but I think I did not tell thee of an Epitaph, recorded
in it, he pretends to have discovered in some suburban Church-
BERNARD BARTON 161
yard, to the memory of an infant aged 4 months with this text
subjoined below :
"Honour thy Father and Mother that thy days may be
long in the Land ! ! "
I daresay the thing is a pure invention of Lamb's, who
delighted in mystifying his correspondents. But the inapposite-
ness of the quotation is no disproval of the fact. In the
burying ground of the Baptist Meeting House of Grundisburgh
I remember years ago reading the following ;
TO THE MEMORY OF CHARLOTTE, WIFE OF BENJAMIN LOUSY
O may I stand before the Lamb,
When seas and skies are fled ;
And hear the judge pronounce my name,
With blessings on my head !
Fare thee well and let me soon have proof under thy hand
and seal that I have not out-sinned forgiveness in the matter of
Ichabod !
Thine ever
B. B.
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
AUG. n, 1848
MY DEAR BARTON,
Your precious balms have not broken my head,
though, had they done so, it would have served me right for not
acknowledging " Ichabod," and no great harm either, for a better
head might easily be found. But the fact is that when Ichabod
arrived / was departed, and since my return I have had a house
full of ladies, and as the said ladies draw and ramble after old
abbies, tombstones, carvings, pots, etc., I have had work enough
on my hands to find them in antiquities, and have been active
Secretary to a female archaeological society.
I have seen Tymms only once for several weeks and that once
was at a Meeting of the Trustees of the Savings Bank to de-
liberate upon the best means of draining the said Bank and the
Norman Tower. As the plan involves opening a very ancient
common sewer, coeval with the Monastery, I proposed that
whatever was found in the sewer should belong to the Bury
Archaeological Society. I have been reading with great in-
162 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
terest the " Final Memorials of Charles Lamb ". One rises from
the volumes with increased veneration for Lamb. His trials
were sharper than many of the Martyrs of the modern evangeli-
cal church passed through. Martyrs who eat 365 good dinners
in the year and had always at hand a plentiful supply of
flatterers to smooth their thorns and, in my mind, excuse his
brandy and water peccadilloes. But yet my mind revolts from
the book as an improper uplifting of the family curtain. Why
should all the world be told of the dreadful tragedy of the
Lamb household ? If it were published in some magazine
whose editor should have been pilloried how does that justify
Mr. Serjeant Talfourd, Lamb's authentic biographer, for giving
the story still wider circulation. Few would read it in a
monthly or quarterly journal whereas all the circulating
libraries will now have it, and the increasing sect of Lamb's ad-
mirers will henceforward associate the tale with their memories
of the author. It will go to America and Australia, for whither
do not Lamb's works now go? Out on such needless revela-
tions ! Neither in truth nor fiction have I met with so moving
a glimpse of humanity as that of Lamb and his sister on their
road to Hoxton Madhouse, weeping, walking slowly side by
side. It transcends inasmuch as there was such near kinship in
the sufferers, Cowper's months of silence in Mr. Newton's parlour
at Olney, with that rugged Calvinist and "Mary" tending him.
I much fear that I cannot after all come this month to
Grundisburgh. School reopens on Wednesday next, and then I
am a fixture, and B. G. [Brampton Gurdon] migrates into Nor-
folk in September. Moreover I have been idle lately and my
work is closing round me, like those leaden chambers at Venice
that daily drew closelier round their captives.
Did I ever tell you an epitaph on three children who died of
ague, in a churchyard near Waxham in Norfolk :
Here lie our little children three
Which God Almighty guv to we ;
They all three died of ague-fits,
And here they lie as dead as nits.
Some one completed the inscription with
Cheer up my lads ! for in a trice
These little nits will turn to lice.
BERNARD BARTON
This is a new form of expressing " the sure and certain
hope" of ordinary tombstones, and a novel comment on the
text that we shall all be changed in the twinkling of an eye !
One more epitaph in Dereham churchyard :
Here lieth Martin Enmerod,
Have mercy on his soul, Lord God :
As he would have, if he were God,
And thou wert Martin Enmerod. 1
Ever y rs . truly
W. B. DONNE
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
SEPT. 12, 1848
DEAR DONNE,
Dost thou not remember the elegant compliment
paid by a Frenchman to an Englishman " It must be ac-
knowledged that Monsieur has a grand talent for silence ! " I
thought the report I had sent thee of my name proving a re-
puted passport to a " Hireling Priest " would have made thee
write instanter, hadst thou even been having another tooth
extracted. Why the fabulous tales of Orpheus, and the marvels
wrought by his Lyre fall far short of this, and thou hearest or
readest the tidings as an ordinary occurrence of every-day life.
But thou art in such request at Bury, and so petted and fondled
and dandled by the Magnates there, that we poor East Anglians
are thrown into shade. My friend Corrance tells me he toiled
as men labour after virtue, to get introduced to thee, and did
obtain an audience, from thence he came " ravished with thy
converse," but to meet thee for a longer colloquy at dinner was
utterly impossible. Well, my dear fellow, I grudge thee not thy
honours, for they are well won by thy deserts, only bear in mind
1 The original runs thus :
" Here lyeth Ahleke Pott
Have pity on me Lord God
As I wd. have pity on thee
Wert thou Ahleke Pott
And I, Lord God."
Travels through Germany, published in 1768, by Thorn. Nugent, LL.D.,
Fellow of Society of Antiquaries.
164 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
the woe denounced against those of whom all men speak well, and
do not incur it, if thou can'st well help it, to any hazardous
extent.
Thine
B. B.
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
SEPTEMBER I2TH, 1848
BURY ST. EDMUNDS
MY DEAR BARTON,
It is certainly very scandalous in me to have
before me two letters of yours unanswered, particularly the
earlier of the twain which amused me much and showed me
the value of true fame. The Quakers evidently regard your
poetical genius with much complacency, although they may
profess, as a lesson to the profane, indifference to such ac-
complishments or even now and then call them hard names
" vinum daemonum " and the like.
I saw a neighbour of yours Mr. Con-ants (is that the way to
spell a word that used to be " White " ?) last week. He was so
good as to call on me, and I was twice bidden to meet him at
dinner, but was obliged to decline for the same cause that
borders my paper with black. It is one of the many advantages
I derive from our having become chums and correspondents that
Mr. Corrants should come and look at me. I fear he thought
me " marvellous ill-favoured " and somewhat of a sloven. For I
had been all day at my desk and, though shaven, was unkempt,
and in blouse and slippers. Hint please (when time serves) that
in my broidered waistcoat and with the aid of macassar and
burnt-cork I look very differently, and you may indeed allege
that Mr. C. has not seen me. I am an evening fool.
We have had a great man here and I have been walking with
him and aiding him to eat salmon and mutton and drink port
George Borrow 1 and what is more we fell in with some gypsies
and I heard the speech of Egypt, which sounded wondrously like
a medley of broken Spanish and dog Latin. Borrow's face lighted
George Borrow, 1803-1881, author of the Bible in Spain, 1843; Gypsies in
Spain, 1841 ; Lavcngro, 1851 ; Romany Rye, 1857.
BERNARD BARTON 165
by the red turf fire of the tent was worth looking at. He is ashy-
white now but twenty years ago, when his hair was like a raven's
wing, he must have been hard to discriminate from a born Bo-
hemian. Borrow is best on the tramp : if you can walk 4 miles
per hour, as I can with ease and do by choice, and can walk
15 of them at a stretch which I can compass also then he will
talk Iliads of adventures even better than his printed ones. He
cannot abide those Amateur Pedestrians who saunter, and in his
chair he is given to groan and be contradictory. But on New-
market-heath, in Rougham Woods he is at home, and specially
when he meets with a thorough vagabond like your present
correspondent.
Have you heard that Capt n Brooke has added such treasures
to his library that his rooms were enlarged to receive them. He
bought books for an old song in Paris in the spring when money
was so scarce, and thus is one of the very few people who has
derived any benefit from the last French Revolution.
Ever y rs .
W. B. DONNE
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
SEPTEMBER 14, 1848
DEAR DONNE,
When letters cross on the road it is sometimes a
knotty point who is to write first. I will not give thee the
benefit of that apology for silence. So I send thee Prose, Verse,
and a Gay into the bargain.
Thy account of Borrow takes my fancy much. I should
come in for my share of his groans, for I'm sure I should never
pedestrianize with him, an' he be such a walker. I only creep
and crawl, and do no great deal of either. I knew a Gent who
had a very portly wife, a sort of she Daniel Lambert, who used
to say he walked twice a day round her, and found that exercise
enough.
Thine ever dear Donne spite of thy taciturnity,
atfectfy.
B. B.
166 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
J. M. Kemble to W. B. Donne
BOGNOR, SUSSEX
9/20/48
Who could have anticipated four years ago that two hundred
charters (Anglo-Saxon) should be found at Winchester, and
which seem never to have been noticed by any one : and what
a flood of light have they not thrown upon the archaeology of
our law. They are for all Germany, as well as for ourselves,
an invaluable monument. Full of constitutional lore, historical
data, mythological allusion, philological facts. There exists
nothing like them all over Europe, and their publication is
rightly felt to mark a most important era in the study of
Germanic antiquity. I gather this from the compliments which
the great northern associations have thought fit to bestow upon
myself as the humble instrument of their preservation : within
two years I have received, unsolicited and unexpected, the
Diplomas of the Royal Society of History in Denmark, of the
Royal Society of History in Sweden, and the very high and
most honourable appointment of a corresponding member of
the Konigliche Akademie der Wissenschaffer in Berlin, in the
historical and philosophical classes probably the most learned
body in the world. These things bear me up against much
weariness of spirit, and console one for the stolid indifference
of friends and fellow-countrymen.
V r . affectionate friend
J. M. KEMBLK
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
SEPTEMBER 24, 1848
BURY ST. EDMUNDS
MY DEAR BARTON,
I have been in my time a lawyer, a justice of the
peace, an historian, a divine (having heard a sermon, which I
wrote, preached in a cathedral and before a Bishop !) : I have
enacted Hamlet and Shylock, and trained a schoolmaster, and
superintended a gaol, and am Vice-Patron to Dr. Brewer's school :
I have been a (provisional) Director of a Railway Company, and
BKKNARD BARTON 167
a newspaper writer, and an itinerant lecturer, and a Reviewer
and a maker of dictionaries : I have broken in a colt and built
three houses : I have quarrelled with my own parson and ridden
in the same carriage with two bishops : I have written works
which are carven in marble and imbedded in granite columns.
But never till Friday last did I attain the summit of earthly
dignity that, namely, of being Head-Master to a Royal Gram-
mar School. Donaldson was summoned to Cambridge and left
to my charge his Vlth Form. Twenty-two fine ingenuous lads,
some of them much taller than myself, sat hushed before me
and listened to my words of instruction as if they had been
listening to King Lemuel's mother, who, if Solomon may be
trusted, was somewhat curt and peremptory in her manner. I
had not indeed a wedding garment, not being entitled in virtue
of any letters of the alphabet to wear a gown. But I put on for
the nonce a loose black paletot to look like one, and spectacles,
and I mouthed Homer and Demosthenes as if Greek were
my native speech, and my brief authority my habitual condi-
tion. Is not this transformation nearly as wonderful as your
poetry's persuading a group of Quakers to smile upon a priest of
Baal?
You who know Mrs. Clarkson, do you not also know Mrs.
Clarkson's friend Crabb Robinson, 1 and by the way his name
reminds me that I must now make a long parenthesis and
return to Crabb Robinson anon. ("I speak foolishly;" but
Crabb took me lately to tea with an old farmer, a brother of the
said Mrs. Clarkson, Buck by name, and, marry, by nature and
appearance too. Now this old Buck never comes to Bury,
though he lives within 5 miles of it, never uses for ten years
together an old one-horse chay, and never suffers strangers or
even acquaintances to enter his doors, always excepting the said
Crabb. Well we tead and talked and departed. But next
morning the old one-horse chay is drawn out and dusted, and
a cart horse is harnessed to it, and old Buck drives over to
Bury for no other purpose than to ask Crabb who I was and
whether I would not come again. There beat that, and you
1 Henry Crabb Robinson, born i3th May, 1775, died 5th February, 1867. His
Diary and Correspondence edited by Thomas Sadler, Ph.D. Macmillan, 1869.
168 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
will beat Bannagher who beat the . Here ends the paren-
thesis.)
Do you not, knowing Mrs. Clarkson, know also Crabb
Robinson, Lamb's friend, and the associate of Wordsworth and
Goethe, Rogers and Mad. de Stael, Coleridge and Guizot, Mr\
Buck and Mr. Donne.
Ever yours most truly
WM. B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
BURY ST. EDMUNDS
Nov. 3, 1848
MY DEAR BARTON,
I have just time to acknowledge your letter and
no more.
You twitted me sometime since, when we were pelting each
other with the laurels we had respectively won, with my never
having had a ship named after me. I never have neither
have you had a branch Lodge of Odd Fellows named after you.
At Dereham meeteth quarterly a club connected with the Man-
chester Central Association entitled the " Cowper and Donne
Lodge" l and what is more, on anniversaries they perambulate
the Market, with blue silk banners and cockades bearing my
name in letters of gold.
Have I written since I fell from innocency. Have I told you
that I have been to a Ball ? I that have walked hitherto
uprightly and nearly avoided promiscuous assemblies of dancing
men and dancing women. Plays and Jenny Linds, and mid-
night compotations I confess to. But there was till now a
speck of unworldliness in my heart, just a residue of grace and
what you cannot appreciate, baptismal washing. It is gone,
and I am swept and garnished and expecting daily to have
seven spirits knocking at my door.
Ever thine
WM. B. DONM
1 This club is still in existence, 1904.
BERNARD BARTON 169
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
Nov. 26, 1848
DEAR DONNE,
Edward FitzGerald is still in town, unless he be
gone to see his mother at Brighton, and I fear we shall not have
him down in dear, dull, dirty old Suffolk for another fortnight.
But he has promised to eat his Christmas dinner with us. I
wish I could compel thee to come and sit forenent him on that
occasion. I hardly know whether we may calculate on many more
foregatherings, but I live in hopes. I know not where he could
go to be more appreciated, or more highly loved and esteemed,
and I believe he has a lurking love of old familiar haunts. I
have let the Ipswich man have my Ditty, without any Signa-
ture, and on his assurance that he will keep his own counsel as
to its authorship.
Thine ever affectionately
B. B.
W. B. Donne to R. C. Trench
BURY
DEC. 9, 1848
MY DEAR TRENCH,
Charles has not been to Bury School for a twelve-
month. His military propensities made Greek and Latin more
than usually useless. I think and hope his martial ardour is
cooling down ; he very sensibly gives up all idea of my buying
him a commission in the English army. . . .
Mess uniform and officerial habits being anything rather
than economical, and without family interest, promotion being
very slow and dubious. Our men fight well enough, otherwise
the system of the English army is the worst in Europe. Our
chances of a commission in the Indian Army are I fear much
diminished by the death of poor Charles Buller, who had proved
himself a most zealous friend, and would have been I doubt not
a most efficient one ultimately. However that was a national
loss, and I must not murmur at my small portion of it.
There is one trade in our days eminently the worst a man
170 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
can follow ; that of a " gentleman ". The three next worst are
[pace tua] the three learned professions. I may go down to a
very brief posterity, but not as a Roman historian after all.
Macleane, Principal of Brighton College, has enlisted me
among others (Blakesley, Thompson, Merivale, Maiden) in a
scheme for editing College and School Classics, and supplying
at home what we have so long imported from the Continent.
The editions are to have English excursuses and notes, and the
Editor of the whole, author for Colleges, to compress or select
portions for Schools. I have rashly undertaken "Tacitus" as
my share of the work. My notes for a history will come in for
notes to an historian, and my name will be in letters of gold
when the book is bound. Other designs on Roman History
(besides a miserable palsied resuscitation of the U.K.S. for Bald-
win forthcoming) I have none. I have found my level and
shaken hands with ambition. An occasional article in the
"Edinburgh" and the Magazines and plenty of anonymous
work for dictionaries, etc., suits me much better than long
projects. Am I not in my 4$nd year? Is it not better done,
as others use, to put guineas in my pocket from time to time
than to venture guineas on a book no one would read, much less
buy ? You must not however imagine me idle. I am really
driving a very profitable business with prospect of increase, and
I thus compensate to my family for having avoided a profession.
It is much to know one^s limit and to be content with obscurity.
I have been trying to hammer into Smith the virtues of
gossip and good writing. In recommending such works I would
the gods had made Smith even as poetical as Audrey ; but they
have not, so I fear my counsel is like to resemble Ahitophel's
in all respects but its consequences to myself. But I fancy I am
to have a pretty slice of the Memoirs as I have some means of
access to private papers of Norfolk families, etc., and, from my
lounging and garrulous habits, have stored up a fund of anec-
dotes relative to East Anglican Cantabs at once pithy and
profitable for such a book. Smith and myself will thus make
up Antony A. Wood between us. I had long intended to
publish a volume on Norfolk worthies after the manner of
Fuller and H. Coleridge and I have enough and to spare for the
EDWARD FITZGERALD 171
Athenian project also. I have now given you the best proof in
my power that I am well qualified to furnish gossip to a Diction-
ary, and that I am exhibiting at least one sympton of declining
years garrulity.
If you will take Charles and myself in during the Xmas
holidays for a day or two we will gladly come ; the other visit
had better be made in the summer, as Mrs. Trench can then at
all times send the girls to romp in the garden and not be obliged
to take thought about their catching cold. I cannot however
see any justice in our coming this time to you when you have
never yet come accompanied to Bury, and we are nearer London
than you.
With best regards to Mrs. Trench and love to my god-
daughter and her brothers and sister.
Believe me
Ever affectionately yrs.
W. B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to Edward FitzGerald
JAN. 4 , 1849
MY DEAR FITZ GERALD,
I have j ust heard from Barton that you have left
Boulge, but may return thither ere long. I should like of all
things to pass a few hours with you at your Cottage, while I am
in your neighbourhood, and will tell you my plans, if perchance
they may square with yours. I come to Ufford on the 15th
inst. ; stay there till Thursday afternoon, which I spend with
Barton, and on the Saturday I am off for London and Hamp-
shire. I would therefore come to you on Friday morning, and
leave you next day in time for the coach or omnibus that will
take me to Ipswich for 2 o'clock train. Let me hear from you
before the 15th, supposing you get this note in time, as, being
directed to Boulge, it may perchance lie there unopened. I too
have Sped ding's " glorious book," which I prefer to any modern
reading. Reading one of his " evenings " is next to spending an
evening with the Author.
I have not read a very different work, Macaulay's but have
looked over certain chapters. It is neither better nor worse than
172 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
I expected: will go down the public throat as history, for a
century to come. I have detected some strange slips of the pen
and the memory, some of which, at least, seem to have been
occasioned by inordinate love of embellishment. However these
may and will be corrected, but nothing can correct the air of
Whig self-sufficiency that pervades the book. It was begotten
in Holland House in the days of Grey and Mackintosh good
days for then but not for ever.
I trust '49 will be less harassing and more prosperous to
you than '48 has been, and that you are assured how truly I
honour and esteem you.
Y rs . ever
WM. B. DONNE
BURY ST. EDMUNDS
JANUARY 4TH
W. B. Donne to R. C. Trench
BURY ST. EDMUNDS
JANUARY 28TH, 1849
MY DEAR TRENCH,
We have had a sharp battle at cross purposes,
and the result has been only partially satisfactory. On the one
hand I was delighted that my dear boy was able to visit you,
and on the other I am grieving that we have not met. Had I
not been pre-engaged to Kemble at Fulham all Friday, I would
have awaited you at the Hummums or sought you at the College.
But all this was not to be; neither could I have managed to
dine at the " Sterling " on Tuesday, as this week in any case I
must have, like Dan, "abode in my breeches," i.e., remained at
home. Charles brings with him such descriptions of your party
and your place as make me for the nonce envious of his better
luck. However I hope to be even with him ere many months
are over, always under protest that you ought to bring a detach-
ment to Bury.
I called on Maurice on Saturday morning with some faint
hopes that you might be there, the card left at the Hummums
being binomial.
I found Kemble surprisingly well at Fulham, and to my very
great pleasure accompanied by three very well mannered children
BERNARD BARTON 173
and apparently well done by, by their governess. Kemble is very
justly pleased at the reception of his book, and having read
it ver} r carefully I can warrant its goodness. It will have to live
its time, as few people care much for the Incunabula of Law,
or for Anglo-Saxon doings. But its contents will first percolate
through other works, and archaeological societies, and then
gradually English Antiquaries will acknowledge the merits of
the " Saxons in England ".
Ever y rs . affectionately
W. B. DONNE
JAN., 1849
ODE TO MERRY CHRISTMAS
BY A GENTLEMAN IN TROUBLE
W. B. Donne to Bernard Barton
I
The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year,
For Christmas boxes people ask and Christmas bills appear ;
'Tis very sweet to drink and eat for twelve months upon trust,
But Christmas, like a Turnpike Gate, says Pay or stop you must.
II
Your Grocer takes the wall of you, you Cap the Baker's boy,
And meeting with your Tailor may your peace of mind destroy :
And boys and girls grow riotous, and servants ask for leave
At your expense their cousins the Policemen to receive.
Ill
But Christmas ills and yearly bills are not the only bore ;
" The pleasures of the season " I equally deplore ;
I cannot hunt, I never shoot, I seldom go to Balls,
And Whist I leave to Dowagers and Gentlemen in smalls.
IV
From Christmas until Candlemas good-bye to rest and leisure ;
Each note begins " Dear Mr. D. we hope to have the pleasure ".
And Mr. D. whose pleasure is to sit at home and muse,
" Exceedingly regrets he can't" more frequently refuse.
V
When doors are barred and curtains drawn and frosty is the air,
I like to smoke or read or joke within a deep arm-chair ;
I'm sick of seeing " fish and soup," mince-pies and " Norfolk Turkies,"
And every night am dizzy quite with Polkas and Mazurkas.
174 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
VI
Oh ! when I was a " hopeful youth " and when " a nice young man,"
If any one invited me to Balls, I cut and ran ;
I thought Quadrilles the worst of ills, and as for a Cotillon
I'd sooner preach, or clean the pigs, or sing, or ride postillion.
VII
A sage there was of yore at least I think I've been so told,
Who boasted he was learning more and more as he grew old ;
Though not a sage, like him I age, and am to learn constrained
How sixty people through a night may best be entertained.
VIII
I can't express, you cannot guess, what trouble I am in,
Domestic revolutions in my family begin :
The Tables all are turned on me, the carpets taken up,
We've thirty couples asked to-night to tea and dance and sup.
IX
The walls they all are hung with lamps, two fiddlers are hired ;
And brandy-punch and negus for the dancers are required,
Turkies, and hams and tongues and brawn and sherry and bucellas,
And such a lot of tarts and cakes, Italian creams and jellies.
X
I never was in all my days in such a situation !
And greatly stand in need of some " religious consolation " ;
So wishing you a glad NEW YEAR, and wishing it were July,
And all my troubles over.
Believe me
Yours most truly
W. B. D.
Bernard Barton to W. B. Donne
WOODBRIDGE
JAN. 7, 1849
DEAR DONNE,
Thy Christmas Ditty has given divers and sundry
of us a hearty laugh ; so I pray thee to bear thy Christmas
troubles pleasantly, as they contribute so largely to the pleasure
of thy friends. Edward FitzGerald had thy note, for he left it
here for me to see, but I did not see him. I conclude thou hast
heard or will hear from him anent it. We shall hope to see
thee on the Thursday afternoon by either four or five, letting
us know which hour will best suit thee, and then we will have a
BERNARD BARTON 175
plain bit of dinner and a cozy evening without any fuss. If I
find E. FG. likely to be in the county at the time I will book
him to be of our party. I, too, have had my Christmas trouble,
in the shape of a rather delicate dilemma. A certain Mr.
William Vernon writes to me from Cambridge that he is about
to publish a volume of Poems, dedicated by permission to the
Earl of Carlisle, and modestly begs permission to send his MS. to
me, that I may furnish a preface to said book, as he thinks such
an opening bearing a name of some celebrity in the literary
world might aid it. Wilt thou ever again compare thy honours
with mine ? Only fancy such an application from one I never
heard of; or still worse fancy my compliance, and receiving a
MS. volume of Poetry about which I might be wholly unable
to say a single word. Fancy my mortification in having to tell
a Vernon so. I have, however, I think, got out of the scrape by
sending him the following four verses. He will hardly print
them for a preface :
TO W. J. VERNON
Used up ! worn out ! limping on my last legs !
Alike unfit to teach the world or learn !
Draining life's mingled goblet to its dregs !
Waiting in Charon's boat to take my turn !
Ask not of me, my unknown Brother Bard,
To lend thy muse the sanction of a name
Almost as luckless, and as evil starr'd
As e're was muster'd on the roll of fame.
Trust to thy noble Patron's, and thine own,
His on that list, methinks, stands proudly high ;
And Vernon's has not been a name unknown
Among the Stars of that bright galaxy.
But chiefly trust thy Muse's Native Worth I
For if that fail thee all thy hopes are vain ;
No Poet's Preface, Patron's noble Birth,
Availingly can aid a Minstrel's Strain !
B. B.
If the man have Genius, Spirit or Common-sense he will see
that the last verse contains the most rational advice and counsel
I could give him, and he will of course forgive me for backing
out of so onerous and awkward a position. Why I have a
176 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
volume full of my own verse written since my " Households " if
I could find time to copy and lick them into a presentable shape,
and if I thought I had a Ghost of a chance of finding a Pub-
lisher who would give me anything for them but if I can't
find time, health or spirits to get my own bantlings fit to bring
into the drawing-room, how can I attempt to play the part of
Gentleman Usher, or Nurse wet or dry for the progeny of
others ? l
Thine ever
B. B.
Edward FitzGerald to W. B. Donne
BOULGE
WOODBRIDGE
MARCH 9, 1849
MY DEAR DONNE,
Our good friend Barton has died [Feb. 19] leaving
very little worldly goods behind him ; and we do not yet know
what Miss B. will have or what else she is to do with herself.
I (who was to have gone to Norfolk a fortnight ago) have
waited here, looking over his papers, letters, etc., more because it
amused her, poor thing, to turn over all these things with one
so intimate with her father, than for any good that can come of
it. There are letters from C. Lloyd, Mitford, Southey, etc : but
no great shakes ; and B. B.'s life would scarce make a thread to
hang these on, even if they were available in other respects.
I want to ask you about a volume of Selections from B. B/s
poems ; which I propose for two reasons ; first that Miss B.
desires to see such a monument to her father : and secondly /
think it might be made the means of bringing in some pounds
into her pocket, a matter she does not think of.
Out of the 9 volumes B. B. published, I am sure one might
be got of agreeable poetry, better than sermons at all events.
I should not meddle with this to be sure but that I wish to
do a service to Miss B.
1 This is the last letter written by B. Barton to W. B. Donne, and a month
later the Quaker bard breathed his last. Had he any premonition of the nearness
of his end, one wonders, when he wrote these lines, "Waiting in Charon's boat
to take my turn ."
R. C. TRENCH 177
Now I want you to think of this and give me your advice
about it.
Pray let me hear from you as soon as you can give any
advice on all this.
Y rs . ever
E. FITZGERALD
W. B. Donne to his son Charles
BURY ST. EDMUNDS
MARCH n, 1849
MY DEAR CHARLES,
There was a Tradesman's Ball a few nights since here,
and Hanby Holmes was one of the Stewards. On his way
home about 5 in the morning, being dark, and he very short-
sighted Hanby fell over a drunken man, lying at full length on
the pavement. Hanby went for a policeman to take his stum-
bling-block into custody. The policeman roused him, asking what
he meant by lying there drunk. " Oh," says the fellow, " take
me home, take me home, I have been run over by an omnibus"
Ever y rs . affect.
W. B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to R. C. Trench
BURY ST. EDMUNDS
5/ 9/ 49
MY DEAR TRENCH,
It is an unnatural act in the father of many
children to apply for aid to the father of more. But I want
your personal as well as your pecuniary aid. I know there was
formerly some exchange of gifts poetical between Bernard
Barton l and yourself in which you obtained the brazen armour.
He has left his daughter, a most exemplary and accomplished
person, very scantily provided for, and was in fact himself worked
to death by hard task-masters. Miss Barton is a church-woman
1 Bernard Barton died igth February, 1849 ; and the Selections from his Poems
and Letters, edited by his daughter, was published the same year.
12
178 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
having quitted the " Friends " many years ago. Her income goes
with her Father, viz., his salary as bank clerk and his pension
from the Privy Purse.
I should be very glad of your " name and interest ". I have
little acquaintance with the Bishop of Oxford and less or none
with Archdeacon Hare. Their names would be very valuable
and the object is really a good one. I have seen some of the
poems and most of the letters ; the subscribers will not only do
a good deed but have a good book for their money.
Thanks for the pamphlet which I like very much. Is it
true that the Bishop of Oxford, as "The Record" imputes to
him, has said he joined the "Sterling" to convert the heathen ?
There was no mention of this in our deed of Incorporation.
Y rs . ever most truly
W. B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to R. C. Trench
BURY ST. EDMUNDS
MAY 26, 1850
MY DEAR TRENCH,
I have been enforced to read Southey's " Life and
Correspondence " with some heed, as I have been reviewing and
abstracting the volumes, not however with more than pleasure.
Southey's history is the most heroic picture of a literary life in
our language. Perhaps as regards manner his letters are inferior
to Cowper's, but what letters are equal to Cowper's ?
In matter however Southey is much richer, and the spectacle
his biography presents of unwearied methodical devotion to
learning, is a lesson to every one engaged in a similar track. It
is somewhat mortifying to discover that Southey's original works
scarcely put anything into his purse, whereas his more mechanical
labour in editing and reviewing enabled him to feed and clothe
himself.
The mortification indeed is rather for you than me, since I
fancy with all your fame you have realised less than I by job
work. But then you will say Posterity aye, but my wings are
not strong enough to reach it, so my compliments to posterity and
sincere regrets that he lived too far off for me to call upon him.
am ID
fTJETI iyj.-
* rMi L3I
K. (\ THEM 'II 179
I have for so many years kept away from the Pan Aposto-
licon that I trust my absence in 1850 will not offend you.
What with the journey, the sojourn in London, and the
Banquet, the celebration is beyond my purse, and this year is
not likely to be an Annus Mirabilis with me as regards money ;
for next month I lose my tenant at Mattishall, and at Michael-
mas, unless something turns up, I fear I must drop my rents.
Moreover we have in August next, a day of ceremony here which
will cost me some monies. 1850 completes the 300th year of
King Edward's School at Bury, so we propose having a re-union
of scholars, and a dejeuner, and as many Bishops, Judges, and
Members of Parliament as we can claim, or tempt to come.
They have made me chairman of Committee, and besides issuing
circulars and covenanting with Innkeepers, I am in duty bound
to lodge and board for the time, such of my former co-mates as
will visit me. I wish you had been trained by King Edward.
I would have taken no denials.
Yr. affect, friend
W. B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to R. C. Trench
AUGUST, 1850
MY DEAR TRENCH,
I must seem the most graceless of guests in having
allowed nearly a fortnight to elapse without thanking Mrs. Trench
and yourself for all your kindness to me and mine, and for a visit
which we all so thoroughly enjoyed, but as soon as I reached
home I found that nearly all the arrangements for the Tercen-
tenary Commemoration would virtually devolve upon myself,
and that during my absence the details had become formidable
and imperative. I have been in fact for the last ten days en-
grossed by arranging precedence, assigning speeches and places,
directing the number of boiled chickens and jellies, corresponding
with Judges, Archdeacons and Innkeepers, measuring floors,
drilling waiters, listening to excuses, encouraging the timid,
rebuking the forward, practising tying a white neck-cloth (vulge
a choaker) brushing my best coat, devising smooth speeches,
and practising the art of bowing with sufficient distinction to
180 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
lords spiritual and temporal on the one hand and to M.P.'s or
ordinary mortals on the other. We have sped well, but how we
have sped you shall learn from a Bury paper which I will for-
ward by Tuesday's post.
And now my dear Mrs. Trench, let me thank you both for
your kindness to my dear girls. I cannot but feel it as a great
privilege for them to have made acquaintance with your charm-
ing family and with yourselves, and I trust this beginning is an
earnest of the unbroken intimacy between our respective house-
holds. No father's care can ever compensate to daughters for
a mother's loss, and I therefore rejoice the more that mine have
acquired such friends, so able to read their dispositions and so
willing to extend to them counsel and affection. We are all the
better for our visit.
I am afraid you had ugly weather for the Island. Thursday
in London was a day of incessant rain. Wednesday out of
London seems to have been equally hydraulic. However, we
contrived to see a great deal, and as good actions although
expensive are comfortable, I do not grudge the extra shillings I
was obliged to pay the cabmen for transit.
My love to all the children. I have forgotten neither the
beer nor the autographs. As soon as the whirl of Friday is
out of my head I will send the one and the recipe for the
other.
Mrs. Sartoris 1 bade me say she admired both your poetry
and your parables, and hoped you had not quite forgotten
her.
Ever y r . aff'ly.
W. B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to R. C. Trench
UNDATED
MY DEAR TRENCH,
I should have immediately answered your former
letter, had I not been curious to know your opinion of Miss. E.
Taylor's application.
1 Mrs. Sartoris ne6 Adelaide Kemble, the celebrated singer, was daughter
of Charles Kemble and sister of Mrs. Fanny Kemble and John Mitchell
Kemble.
R. C. TRENCH 181
First of the first, you have given me the truest pleasure by
the terms in which you speak of my dear Charles, and I am
the more gratified by your opinion since it coincides with my
own impressions of his character.
I am induced to think Charles's military inclinations sprung
from discouragement in his school studies. The system here
does very well for hard-headed and strong-nerved lads, but
Charles resembles me in inability to get up a subject in a given
time, and he cannot work unless he understands at the same time.
So, in the second place you do not consider me as an " il-
legible " person (note Mrs. Malaprop) altogether, for University
College purposes ! I have had a note this morning from Miss
Taylor asking me to tea on my next visit to London, and
to a conference with her, but there the matter must rest awhile
as I cannot leave home at present.
Disraeli seems to have broken down at once as leader of the
Protectionists. He will always be a valuable second to any
party. But a leader needs three qualities all of which Disraeli
singularly wants station, character and discretion.
Cobden and his friends have already done this good that
they have obliged the Whigs to think about retrenchment in
earnest. I dined yesterday with a party of stout and angry
Protectionists, warm from the meeting with the Duke of Rich-
mond. It was curious to hear what radical doctrines on the
subject of finance they held equalisation of taxes and vigorous
supervision of the budget. I had no occasion to say much,
" fecit indignatii versum ". They even admitted the yeomanry
to be a needless burden and that Prince Albert did not want so
many horses. It was really very strange and amusing. I believe
the agriculturists are very much distressed, but their distress
arises from the effects of the defunct corn laws. They have
put their monies into the land, and will not see that in a year or
two it will be a good investment. Distance and freightage must
always be an indirect protection against the foreign grower.
Yours ever affectionately
W. B. DONNE
182 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
This letter and the next refer to a proposal made by Miss
Emily Taylor and Frederick Denison Maurice that Mr. Donne
should try for the post then vacant at University College,
London, of Professor of Language and Literature. At first he
was very much tempted to do so, but ultimately declined, being
too scrupulously honest to undertake work for which he did
not feel himself to be thoroughly competent. It was another
year or two before the "London Cap" was found to fit him.
W. B. Donne to E. C. Trench
BURY ST. EDMUNDS
Nov. 2, 1850
MY DEAR TRENCH,
It really gave me a moment's pain that you should
have thought it needful to apologise for an oversight which was
so easy to commit.
Supposing" Literature" should predominate over " Language"
I should have much the same chance of doing my work creditably
as if the Chair had been historical. From Chaucer downwards
I have studied English Literature very pervasively and closely,
and have both written and lectured on the progress of English
Prose and Poetry. I infer however from a very kind letter from
Professor Maurice that Language is the " Cheval de bataille," and
in order to give instruction to any purpose in that department
the University needs a philologist like Kemble or the late Mr.
Garnet. Indeed I do not see how a lecturer could stir a step in
language without being well versed in at least Anglo-Saxon and
Middle English. Moreover I am a man of extremely susceptible
nerves, and the idea of incompetence would either paralyse me or
render me wretched. In History or Literature I should blaze
away with great effrontery, but in language should speak with
bated breath. I see not whence I could devise testimonials for
such a Professorship : I could as regards history appeal to various
articles and to my numbers on Roman History and to many
competent persons who have heard me lecture ("I speak as a
fool "), but I have written nothing on philology, nor could any
one justly say that I am a grammarian. The only testimonials
I could obtain would be that " I am civil and attentive ". I
therefore think that first thoughts are best and see no grounds
for withdrawing my decline.
J. M. KEMBLK 183
Besides this very morning a bomb has fallen into my study
which renders me nearly incapable of taking any more work at
present It has come in the form of a letter from Macleane re-
quiring my Tacitus for the printer early in 1851. I am under
covenants to complete it, so I must go work tooth and nail, refuse
all invitations, shave half my head and banish my acquaintance.
However this is merely an accident. I do not think myself equal
to one portion of the duties of the Chair and therefore will
await something else to turn up. Mr. Macawber has ultimately
prospered, and I do not despair of one day a London Cap being
found to fit me.
With best remembrances to Mi's. Trench
Ever y". affately.
WM. B. DONNE
" Gentleman's Mag.," Nov. Wordsworth's Autobiography is
mine not room enough to say it well.
J. M. Kemble to W. B. Donne
HANOVER,
23/10/50
I am heartily sick of my banishment : nevertheless I have
turned it to some use, and Hanover has made a decent con-
tribution to my stock of interesting or useful materials. Among
Leibnitz's correspondence is a good deal which is important
to our history, and seems quite new : not only his letters to
the Electress Sophia, the Duchess of Orleans and other prin-
cesses of the Palatine family ; but there are also valuable corre-
spondence with Bumet the Bishop, Bumet of Kemnay, a relative
of his, Ker of Kersdale and Yoland, much of which is unprinted.
But the most striking is a MS. collection of some hundred
political characters with anecdotes and descriptions of the Eng-
lish notabilities of the time, drawn up by some Englishman who
had good access to information about 1712-1714, and sent to
the Electoral Prince (Geo. 1st) evidently as a guide to him in his
dealings with the English Court. These I have obtained leave
to copy and have nearly finished ; and I shall make large extracts
from the Leibnitziana. There is also a curious tract on the Con-
184 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
stitution and habits of England designed for the same purpose
of instructing the future king, sent by G. S. " from his lodging
at Lambeth in 1705" and which also seems worth transcrib-
ing. Who can G. S. be ? It naturally costs me a good deal of
trouble collating all the details, etc., with the accounts given in
the Memoirs and histories of the time, but it will be all useful
one day. Some of the printed materials are in fact not easily
accessible here, and perhaps, inaccessible anywhere else. For
example : there exists at Stuttgard a sort of Roxburgh Club,
that prints all sorts of out of the way things strictly confined to
the use of the Members. Their sixth volume contains a very
large collection of letters from Elizabeth Charlotte (the Regent
Orlean's mother) to her half-sister Raugrafin Luise von Dagen-
felt ; a most interesting and amusing collection hardly fit for
general reading, but full of anecdotes and curious bits of history.
It is a book I have had the use of, and have carefully read.
Eliz. Charlotte was the favourite niece of the great Electress
Sophia, and a noble hearted woman, worthy of such an Aunt.
A copy of their correspondence exists in the Ducal Library at
Darmstadt, whether easily get-at-able I know not, but must leave
no stone unturned to ascertain. The Princess had no secrets
from her Aunt, to whom she wrote every week letters of twenty
and thirty sides. What a fund : her correspondence with
Caroline Princess of Wales, if it exists, must also be extremely
valuable ; they wrote constantly to one another and evidently
in the most confidential manner. Milnes and Lord Brougham
have been here ; they stayed for a day or two and were very
good company. Lord B. had been patronising Metternich at
Brussels by dining with him : but all this don't matter, for B.
himself is not more powerless in England than Metternich is
in Austria, or anywhere else. He is clean wiped up and done
with. Fitzroy Kelly has also been here, the scandal says, on
business connected with the Hanoverian Crown jewels, which are
claimed here, but these are high matters of State, dangerous for
men in your and my position, so no more.
\r. affect, friend
J. M. KEMBLE
R. C. TRENCH 185
W. B. Donne to R. C. Trench
MAY- 1851
SAT. MORNING
MY DEAR TRENCH,
How will Thursday pass off' [the opening of the
Exhibition of 1851]. This is the first meeting of nations without
some taint of blood in it, either to plan or to patch up wars.
When do you go ? I should like to accompany you. I must be
in London in June as I am to be, I fancy, Chairman at the Pan
Apostolicon. This is Spedding and Thompson's doing for which
may Lucifer requite them. I cannot say unluckily that " I am
unaccustomed," etc., since it has been my evil lot to be Chair-
man sundry times : but I had rather address a Norwich mob
than the " Apostles," not that I mean to compare them, but the
latter are so formidable. 1
I am reading with much interest Wordsworth's " Memoirs ".
How very beautiful are Miss Wordsworth's remarks in his
journal. She was the bom poet of the two.
Best regards to Mrs. Trench.
Yr. affect.
W. B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to Miss Worship 2
Nov. 15, 1851
DEAR Miss WORSHIP,
I wished very much for you when Mrs. Kemble
was here, not merely on account of the Readings but because you
would have chimed well together. Norwich beat us in the
number of its audience but not in the intelligence, as we really
had everybody from the neighbourhood likely to appreciate such
111 1 (Dr. Hort) left Cambridge on Wednesday afternoon (June, 1851), and then
went down to Blackwall and there had a most pleasant dinner (annual) with the
Apostles old and new. Donne of Bury St. Edmund's was President, and I, as
junior member, Vice-President. Maurice, Alford, Thompson, F. Lushington,
Tom Taylor, James Spedding, Blakesley, Venables, etc., were there. Monckton
Milnes and Trench were unable to come" (Life and Letters of F. jf. A. Hort,
D.D., D.C.L., edited by his son. Macmillan, 1896).
3 Miss Worship, an old friend of the Donnes, once remarked to W. B.
Donne's daughter, Valentia, on returning from Church one Sunday, " Why do you
take off your gloves in Church ? " "I don't know, I can't pray in gloves," said
Valentia. " It's lucky you can pray in stockings," said W. B. Donne, looking up
quietly from the book he was reading.
186 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
a lecture. I hope the experiment will be repeated next year.
On the late occasion half the audience came unprepared for any-
thing more than a simple reading of the Plays, and were much
amazed to find there was a consummate impersonation also.
I have vowed this year to say " No " to all applications to
lecture, and I have said " Yes " eight times beginning with the
25th inst. So much for consistency.
Our proceedings at Colchester (where by the way I found
myself unexpectedly gazetted as F.R.S.) were enlivened midway
by a gentleman, not on the Committee, neither in any way
authorised to interpose himself, preferring to read an occasional
ode. It was certainly of odes the most singular since it was all
in heroic verse. I did not understand the local allusions, which
it seems were extremely offensive. The following sample will
give you some notion of the delicacy and seasonableness of the
homage paid to greatness :
Oft on this platform, too, may Donne appear,
A name with Airey's proudly welcomed here,
For whom posterity will justly claim,
A bright inscription on the page of fame !
Whom unluckily, according to Lindley Murray, must refer to
Airy, so that my chances of posterity, even with the aid of the
Colchester Pegasus, are very small.
Yesterday there called on me the most wonderful old gentle-
man I have ever seen. He walks with elasticity, has scarcely a
grey hair, has infinite vivacity and is hardly changed in 30
years for so long can I go back in recollection of him. More-
over in the evening he played two juvenile parts. This paragon
is Frederic Vining [actor], the old-established Vining of 1820
I felt quite decrepit beside him. He must have eaten the
Mandrake root. I want to learn his secret so have asked him
to dinner. Perhaps he may be confidential in his cups.
With best regards to Mrs. Worship and all your circle.
Believe me
Y r . much obliged
W. B. DOXM
EDWARD FITZGERALD 1ST
Edward FitzGerald to W. B. Donne
No beginning. WOODBRIDOE postal stamp.
Nov. IOTH, 1852.
I must write a line to say how delighted I am with your
Book. As is usual, directly I had sent to Crabbe for his copy,
Loder sends me mine and I assure you it consoled me for a cold
caught in going to Woodbridge in this beastly November drip.
I have marked many passages ; I particularly like the account of
the Highway man, the old Inns and Coaches, the stop we
should come to if Railroads, etc., ceased of a sudden. And these
are independent of the good stories and extracts from other
people that come in, and are so agreeably strung together.
This little Book shows you have now got easy use of all your
good material ; a freedom (of language at least) which I used to
think you missed in some earlier writings. But perhaps that
was from thinking yourself obliged to ride this high horse for
grave work, and reviews.
I always thought that some such opening as this would let
the good blood that was in you run more freely, and I hope you
will now write several more such books, in as great a hurry and
on the backs of as many letters as you can.
Many little errors can be corrected afterwards : all is got, if
"go "is got.
I will now exercise my vocation as " Fitzdennis " on one page
(107), which is so good that I want to get two words, or else my
appreciation of them, right, that I may read it with unmingled
pleasure. I don't understand, or else don't like roads "reared"
upon piles, etc. 1 I may not understand that the old Roman
1 " The great works of antiquity indeed, from the pyramids downward to the
Mausoleum of Hadrian, are too often the Monuments of human toil, privation
and death. But the roads of our more fortunate times are not cemented with
the tears of myriads, nor reared upon piles of bleached bones. On the con-
trary, the construction of them has given employment to thousands, who, but
for them, would have crowded to the parish for relief, or have wandered anxiously
in search of work, or sauntered listlessly at the ale house door in despair of
finding it.
"The great radii of peaceful communication have been executed by willing
hands, and a fair day's wages has been the recompense of a fair day's work.
We do not undervalue the skill and energies of the engineers of antiquity. Yet
by their fruits we know and judge of the works of the Curatores Viarum, and
of our Brunels and Stephensons." From Old Roads and New Roads, p. 107.
188 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
Roads were really reared up in air above the level, etc., but is
there not some word between reared and laid that would do
for all roads ?
In the same page I want another word for the radii of peace-
ful communication being " executed " which applies to roads,
but is too cumbrous for the mathematical radius. These are
very trifles : which I should not notice but that I want what is
good to be perfect. The sentence about Sydney Smith's wit
and wisdom is very good. 1
I shall send a notice of this Book, with some extracts, to the
"Ipswich Journal" and mention your name unless you dislike my
doing so, but I suppose your being the author is so well known
to many, that it may as well be to all. However if you dislike
this I won't. Don't answer all these letters, I could not help writ-
ing this.
Y rs . ever affect.
E. FG.
In 1852 Mr. Donne published Old Roads and New Roads
referred to in the last letter, a book it is said "in which his wide
1 " We will conclude our rambles over the old roads of four Continents with
the words of one whose wisdom was not surpassed by his wit, although his wit
surpassed most of the wisdom of his contemporaries. ' It is of some import-
ance,' says Sydney Smith (it is wrong to add 'The Reverend,' for no one says
Mr. William Shakespeare or Mr. John Milton), ' at what period a man is born.
A young man alive at this period hardly knows to what improvement of human
life he has been introduced ; and I would bring before his notice the changes
which have taken place in England since I began to breathe the breath of life
at a period amounting to seventy years.
" Gas was unknown. I groped about the streets of London in all but utter
darkness of a twinkling oil lamp, under the protection of Watchmen in their
grand climacteric, and exposed to every species of degradation and insult. I
have been 9 hours in sailing from Dover to Calais before the invention of
steam. It took me 9 hours to go from Taunton to Bath before the invention
of railroads, and I now go in 6 hours from Taunton to London !
" In going from Taunton to Bath I suffered between ten thousand and twelve
thousand severe contusions, before stone-breaking Macadam was born. I paid 51
in a single year for repairs of Carriage-springs on the pavement of London, and I
now glide without noise or fracture on wooden pavement. I can walk, by the
assistance of the police, from one end of London to the other without molesta-
tion ; or, if tired, get into a cheap and active cab, instead of those Cottages on
wheels which the hackney coaches were at the beginning of my life. Whatever
miseries I suffered there was no post to whisk my complaints for a single penny
to the remotest corners of the Empire. And yet, in spite of all these privations,
I lived on quietly, and am now ashamed that I was not more discontented, and
utterly surprised that all these changes and inventions did not occur two centuries
ago. I forgot to add that, as the basket of Stage-Coaches in which the luggage
was then carried had no springs, your clothes were rubbed all to pieces ; and
that even in the best society one-third of the Gentlemen at least were always
drunk." From Old Roads and New Roads, p. no.
W. B. DONNE 189
knowledge of classical literature and Modern History was turned
to good account" and also edited a book on Magic and Witch-
craft.
About this time also he was asked whether he would accept
the post of Editor of the Edinburgh Review if offered, but this
he declined, as he said " his habits were too retired to keep him
in the current of public opinion ".
W. B. Donne allowed himself however to be nominated as
one of the Candidates for the post of Librarian at the London
Library, and in writing to his son Charles, 21st May, 1852, from
Charlotte St., London, he says :
To-day I send in my Testimonials. I shall neither be de-
lighted nor disappointed. Neither the move nor the office
will do me any harm. As there are now nearly 100
Candidates, the election cannot be decided till next week at
earliest. . . .
FitzGerald has called twice : unluckily I was each time from
home. He had the charge of two nieces one day : and very
deliberately turned them alone into a conjurer's room, while he
came to Charlotte St. Hence he went for them with an old
blue dressing gown hanging on his arm.
I met two Miss Twiss' at Charles Kemble's yesterday : both
well stricken in years. One had the face of a very old mastiff;
and a voice deeper than a bull-frog's. Lane the artist was
there ; and I picked up quite an acquaintance with him. Mrs.
Sartoris came to tea and sang like a nightingale. . . .
I find from Crabb Robinson that Bury has already given me
the Librarianship and removed me and mine. You can tell
them that there is much still and always between cup and
iip. . . .
Y r . ever affectionate father
WM. B. DONNE
The choice of the Committee fell on W. B. Donne, and
leaving his mother and children at Bury for a time, he and an
old servant went to live at the London Library, 12 St. James's
Square.
This old housekeeper, Mary Trolloppe by name, was a great
character, and amused the Londoners by walking about St. James's
Square in " pattens ". One day the butler at Lord Derby's said,
190 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
" If she liked to go round early he would show her the table set
for a Cabinet Dinner". Mary arrived, and saw the gold plate
and beautifully arranged table, but for a few minutes said
nothing, then, with fierce loyalty to her Master, she burst out,
" That's nothing to what we have at Mr. Donne's ".
When Mary Trolloppe was dying, her clergyman said to
W. B. Donne. : " It's of no use talking to her of the glory of
the Saints ; she will only talk of the glory of the Donnes ".
The work of Librarian was thoroughly congenial to W. B.
Donne, and living in London brought him in touch again with
many old friends. Trench was made Dean of Westminster in
1856, while the Kembles and Speddings lived in London, and
others such as Edward FitzGerald, Archdeacon Groome, Deans
Blakesley and Merivale, came up at intervals and never forgot
to " look him up ".
Besides his work at the London Library, Mr. Donne had
been acting as Deputy Examiner of Plays for his friend John
Kemble, who was away in Germany collecting materials for his
books. It was an office requiring more than usual tact, for there
was a good deal of discontent among the Managers of Theatres
just then, and Meetings had already been held proposing to
abolish the office of Examiner of Plays altogether. It speaks
well for the able manner in which William Donne carried out
the duties of Censor, that on John Kemble's return, a Deputation
of Managers waited on him, and presented him with a silver ink-
stand, thanking him for the courteous way in which he had
always treated them ; and on the death of John Kemble in
1857, W. B. Donne was appointed his successor. In those
days the upper part of the London Library was used as a
residence for the Librarian, and during 1852-53 W. B. Donne
lived there, going backwards and forwards to Bury, but on the
expiration of his lease there in 1854, he sent his daughters to
school at Brussels, and brought his mother to London.
Mrs. Fanny Kemble to W. B. Donne
DEC. 31, 1852
MY DEAR MR. DONNE,
I am very glad that the Editorship of the " Edin-
burgh " was offered to you ; J it is a tribute to your ability, which
1 In a letter to one of his sons, W. B. Donne says : " The offer was never
made me directly. And all I have heard since of the matter only confirms me
in my previous impression. The Longmans might have listened to the recom-
mendation among others, but they would never have entrusted property so
valuable to an untried and unknown hand. So that in fact, my refusal, if it
were one, has done me no harm whatever."
MRS. FANNY KKMBLK 191
I think even your modesty cannot have prevented you receiving
with pleasure. I am very glad you did not accept it for apart
from the personal disqualification you plead, and which I do not
admit I mean your incompetency I think your prudential
reasons against taking it well judged and wise. It seems almost
an impertinence thus to pronounce upon a course of action you
have seen fit to adopt, but I am writing hurriedly, and you in
some measure have challenged my opinion by informing me of
the circumstances and my opinion is nothing but approbation ;
therefore if it is impertinent, you are bound to excuse it. I
must leave what you say to me about the passage in Othello for
discussion till we meet. You say that "unbonneted" is the
true reading, that meaning "without raising the bonnet to
superior rank " whereas " un -bonneted " appears to me to
mean without raising the bonnet to superior rank we will
fight it out over a cup of tea.
One word more about the Editorship of the "Edinburgh"
(I hop backwards and forwards from one subject to another
like a bird from one perch to another). I think you would have
found the labour and harass of it more than your health would
have well endured, and though .1,500 a year is a pretty income
to put into a man's pocket yet as you must have paid all your
contributors out of that, the remains would not have been so
much as the whole I think.
My Colchester patrons are infinitely amiable to me. I am
going back there on the 31st of next month. By-the-bye it is
just on the turn of the year eleven o'clock at night on the
31st December, 1852.
God bless you, my dear Mr. Donne. I wish you health and
happiness ; the well-being and well-doing of your children ;
your excellent Mother's health and your own prosperity, and am
Sincerely and gratefully yours
FANNY KEMBLE
45 MELVILLE STREET
EDINBURGH
The last hour of the year
192 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
W. B. Donne to his son Charles
12 ST. JAMES SQUARE
APRIL 15 [1853]
MY DEAREST CHARLES,
I missed you very much. Arthur (Walsham) came to
dinner on Sunday : and having breakfasted with Crabbe, I
accompanied Spedding in the evening to Captain Sterling's,
brother of my old friend John. In his garden at Knights-
bridge, apart from the dwelling house, he has built himself a
huge room of cast iron, and mounted on rollers so that it may
not become a fixture, and belong to the owner of the ground.
This building is called "The White Cottage," yet anything less
like a cottage you cannot well imagine. It is more like a huge
barrack room. But it is admirably warmed and lighted, and
some fine old paintings adorn the walls. Here on Sunday
evenings occasionally the gallant Captain receives his friends,
and permits his friends to introduce their reputable acquaint-
ance " comme moi " so Jem took me. Cigars and liquors are
provided "ad libitum," and oysters and bread and butter for
the strong-minded. This seems to me a very sensible form of
hospitality and much more commendable than dinner-visiting.
There I met Captain Keppel the Borneo-man, whom I had not
seen for more than thirty years, and who in our private theatri-
cals used to enact one of the Babes in the Wood, while I was
his wicked Uncle. He might almost now repeat the part, as
though come to ripe ages, his face is nearly as boyish as ever.
He was heartily glad to see me, and appears like all his race,
a hearty good fellow. On Monday I went to a soiree at Sir
Charles Lyells, where there was a grand gathering of notables
in science and art. . . . Gibbs was there and I had a nice chat
with him. On Wednesday I drank tea with Fanny [Kemble],
and met Laurence who is taking a sketch of her, and came to
study her features, and to-night I am going with her to the
Adelphi to see " Masks and Faces " although therein is a woful
exchange of Madame Celeste for Mrs. Sterling. So you see I
am tolerably gay. I am booked for a dinner on Monday at
K. C. TRENCH 193
Cornewali Lewis's and that shall be the end for some while ; as
the absorption of my evenings disconcerts my plans entirely. .
Kver affect, yours
W. B. DONM;
Trench was anxious that Donne should give lectures at
King's College, London. The next letter refers to this.
W. B. Donne to R. C. Trench
DEC. 16/53
MY DEAR TRENCH,
The Germans recommend one, when a subject of
importance is to be debated with oneself " iiberschlafen," to
sleep over it. It is good counsel but not so easy to follow,
at least for brains like mine. On the contrary I have walked
over your proposal for the last two nights, much to my own
annoyance.
I am afraid, with all my wish to accept, that I must decline
it. (1) Because on looking over my agenda in positive engage-
ments, I cannot discover that I have any leisure until next
Midsummer, and (2) because I have good reason to think that
the scheme will not be palatable to the Committee, or the
subscribers generally. I don't think you have, and I don't see
how you should have, any notion of the amount of correspondence
attached to the Librarianship. There are ordinary letters to
answer ; extraordinary and unreasonable grumbles to soothe, or
to scold, and literary questions or hints to respond to daily,
besides the accounts and then there is the to be classified
catalogue to prepare in slips, and arrange under heads. I never
attempt to do any work but library work from 11 to 6 P.M.
Seven hours work of any kind, even if routine work, takes
the freshness out of one, and I am seldom good for much again
until 8. Then comes the Lord Chamberlain generally four
times in the week, and no small amount of correspondence and
book-keeping in the course of the year, over and above the
reading and making out the licences. This you will say will
come to an end, but when? certainly not for another nine
months.
13
194 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
That ugly whelp Tacitus is now only to print, but the
printing and correcting will occupy four months at the least,
and Parker is gaping for his Roman History, which, being an
abridgment, is only the more difficult to write. So I really do
not see whence my leisure for preparing or giving lectures is to
come from ; and I am almost glad to have been knocked on the
head at King's College, as I am sure you would have been dis-
satisfied with me. Your zeal touched my heart, and made me
for a few days think myself capable of doing wonders ; but on
cooler reflection I fancy that I have got my just load for the
next six months to come.
I believe people think mine a light place ; I wish they would
try it a week, who do so. I must therefore beg you to convey
to the Committee of King's College my gratification, my thanks,
and my sincere regrets, and in terms which no one knows better
than yourself to employ.
For yourself accept my heartiest thanks for all your kindness.
In the above list of " Agenda " I have said nothing about either
" Edinburgh " or " Quarterly," but I really have an article on the
stocks for each, and probably for their March numbers. One just
finished also i.e., printed for next " Westminster ".
With best regards
Ever affectionately y rs .
W. B. DONNE
Edward FitzGerald to Mrs. Edward Donne
LONDON LIBRARY
12 ST. JAMES SQUARE
TUESDAY, 1853 or 4
DEAR MRS. DONNE,
Allow me to thank you for the many kind messages
(including good eatables) you have been so good as to send me.
I am almost ashamed of having stayed so long with your son : but
I feel honestly certain that I put him to as little inconvenience
of any kind as a Guest can put a Host to. As for myself I must
say I have never been so happy in London before. So that, if I
were but to think of my own pleasure I should drag on my stay
here by one excuse or another ; but the longer I stay here, the
R. C. TRENCH 195
more I shall feel going away. I am about to go to Oxford, chiefly
to see the Cowells ; though not to live at their house. I must
once more begin solitary housekeeping. After Oxford, I go to
see a sister at Bath. I mean really to be off as soon as a bad
cold now upon me relaxes, the day after to-morrow, I think.
I am glad you are coming to live here, it will be good for all
parties, I think.
Please give my regards to Blanche and Valentia, and believe
me yrs. very truly,
EDWARD FITZGERALD
W. B. Donne to his son Charles
LONDON LIBRARY
DEC. 13, 1854
MY DEAREST CHARLES,
Among Charles Kemble's effects is a tin-box filled with
old fashioned red pocket books containing most curious and
minute registers of the stage from 1790-1817, and besides, a
number of most interesting anecdotes about the people he
associated with.
Fanny Kemble and myself are going through them regularly,
and should make better speed were it not that almost every
page suggests something or other and sets us talking : so we
advance as slowly as the Dominie in arranging Col. Mannering's
Library. I don't think Boaden saw these Memoranda when he
wrote J. P. Kemble's life. Did I tell you that I am the owner
of Charles Kemble's watch, and a very good one?
Ever y r . affect.
W. B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to R. C. Trench
12 ST. JAMES SQUARE
DEC. 21, 1855
MY DEAR TRENCH,
I gave your message to Mrs. Kemble, and she
thanks you much therefor, and requests that you will write to
herself, stating your wishes respecting the Readings at Win-
;
-HF.
OF
~ I
196 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
Chester. Address " Mrs. F. Kemble, 16 Savile Row". The
letter will be forwarded to her in the North as she does not
return to Town for some 10 or 14 days. I have not the least
doubt that she will come most gladly for a day to Itchenstoke.
I am sure you think me an idle graceless dog for being so
slow with the printers. But in the first place, if you will take
my place for a week as Librarian and as Controller of Her
Majesty's servants in 27 of Her Majesty's Houses, you will find
yourself often thwarted in your best intentions for the evening,
and also when 6 o'clock comes P.M. rather the worse for wear.
I assure you I am often so tired, having more spirit than sinew
in my microcosm, that I am obliged to rest my brains for an
hour or so before I can recommence my day's work. Moreover
I cannot, as I could (Consule Torquato) burn the midnight oil
till 3 or 4 in the morning.
(2nd) As I grow old I become more fastidious in my com-
position. I never had, nor ever shall have, the " pen of a ready
writer". My wit like lago's acts like bird-lime, it plucks out
brains and all (" voici mon apologue ").
Wishing you and yours every temporal and spiritual blessing
of the season.
I am ever affectionately y rs .
W. B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
12 ST. JAMES SQUARE
MAY 28TH, 1856
I will begin with matters personal to myself, because you
kindly expressed a wish to hear about them. Charles came
through this time with flying colours, and satisfied the examiners
that his mishap at Christmas was owing to idleness and not
incapacity. His degree is conferred to-day, and to-morrow I
expect him and Mowbray to come up to the illumination. Dr.
Carpenter got the Registrarship, 1 and I do not think the Electors
could have chosen a better man : moreover he had some claim
1 Dr. William Benjamin Carpenter, born 1812, died 1885, was the successful
candidate for the Registrarship of the University of London. He held the post
till 1879.
MRS. FANNY KEMBLE 197
upon UK-HI being a member of the London University. Im-
mediately after the election Mr. J. Shaw le Fevre came across
from Burlington House to tell me (a perfect stranger to him
until then) that I was not the winning candidate, but that my
Testimonials had attracted notice, and that, in case I offered
myself for any similar post he would do all he could to assist me.
This was most handsome and kind. I replied after thanking
him cordially that I was not in the least disappointed, inasmuch,
as you can certify, I had never any expectations of success. Mr.
Shaw le Fevre was so evidently in earnest that if I do try again
for a better office than the one I have, I will certainly take him
at his word. But I do not much think that I shall trouble him,
canvassing in any shape being utterly distasteful and detestable
to me. Were it not for my girls indeed, who are not well
placed here, I should make up my mind to be quite content
for life. It is not a bad position. I am useful in it to many
persons, and am utterly without ambition.
Never a very good collector of news I have really none now
to send. Yes, I have. I have lived long enough to be promised
a Testimonial ! I am as much surprised as Benedick was when
he found he had lived long enough to be married. A few days
ago I received a very polite note from Mr. Benjamin Webster
informing me that the Managers of the Theatres wished me to
appoint a day and hour in next month for receiving them, as
they desired to give me a token of their common obligations to
me for punctuality, etc., etc., as Examiner of Plays during the
term I held the office. I must say that I am very much gratified,
since the goodwill of these gentlemen has been purchased by no
concessions on my part ; on the contrary, for a year or two many
of them murmured at the increased strictness of the regime. In
my next letter I shall be able to tell you what I am presented
with, though indeed I should have been perfectly pleased and
contented with a round-robin of acknowledgment. My old
enemy La Dame aux Camelias has at last escaped from her
four years' bondage, and is now performing at the opera La
Traviata, and in the full bloom of her original horrors ! I hear
that both opera houses are at present crammed four times a
198 W. B, DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
week. I believe that a tenant is at length found for Mattishall,
not a very profitable one : nevertheless the house will be aired
and the garden weeded : and the tenant having a curacy in the
neighbourhood will probably remain for a few years. I am
going there in a few days to see to various matters, leaving
Blanche and Valentia with Sir John Walsham at Bury : then
they will go to Norfolk for some visits : and then to Cromer
until the end of August. I shall take a house for them and
take my mother down to it. Charles will take care of them
out of doors, and look to ponies and boats. I shall remain in
town and put the finishing hand to certain manuscripts that
have lain by me too long, and when printed will I hope not be
unwelcome to you. I shall indeed take a few days' holiday, but
have neither cash nor leisure this year for a month's idleness. I
have discarded my Dr. and his bottles ; for neither of which had
I the least occasion, being neither better nor worse than usual,
and quite beyond reach of physicians or drugs. Any good news
of you would do me more good than the College of Physicians
and Apothecary's Hall to boot and the best news would be the
announcement of your return after a few months' sojourn in U.S.
My mother is better since the weather has been warmer : I had
so thoroughly prepared her for my missing the Registrarship
that she did not mind the result at all. Valentia likes Mrs.
Groome very much : she will have 4 lessons before she leaves
London and resume them in the autumn. Mrs. G. thinks well
of her voice. We put up a star to-morrow [Peace rejoicings], a
sign that we are well affected folks, and also as a precaution
against glazier's apprentices : and we shall have the advantage
of two brilliant luminaries on either side of us. We shall all
want to see the Fireworks : although as regards the Peace re-
joicings I am thankful to be so well out of a scrape, but not
rejoicing in the figure we cut in the war. Edwd. FitzGerald
comes in now and then of an evening. He is deploring just now
the approaching departure of his friends the Cowells for Calcutta,
where they will remain ten years, and he fears he may never
see them again, even if they both bear the climate. In one way
or another we are always rehearsing the h'nal parting of death.
Has Trench told you that if the ministry remain in office until
MRS. FANNY KEMBLK 199
next November he has a sort of promise from Mr. Vernon Smith
of a Cadetship for his boy ? Is that your doing ? I have told
you now all I think you will care to hear about from me, i.e.,
principally of ourselves : but I trust you have a reserve of livelier
correspondents than I am or am likely to be. Pray do not let
me wait long for a letter, as, at soonest, it will be long before it
can reach me. God bless you, my dear friend.
Yours ever,
WM. BODHAM DONNE
My mother and the girls send their best love. Remember
me to Marie.
W. B. Donne, feeling nervous about receiving the deputation
of Managers with the Testimonial, asked Edward FitzGerald to
come and support him, which he did. When the time arrived
an individual was ushered in, with a parcel, who proceeded to
read an address, but he had not uttered many words before his
" speech betrayed him," and FitzGerald cried out, " Good
heavens! it's Charles!" and Charles Donne had only just time
to make his exit before the real Mr. Webster arrived. The
practical joke helped the situation however ; all trace of nervous-
ness disappeared and Mr. Donne received the deputation with all
his accustomed dignity.
W, B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
ST. JAMES SQUARE
JULY 17, 1856
I cannot express the delight which your letter gave me;
or thank you half enough for your kindness in replying to
mine so promptly. Mrs. Sartoris had previously sent me the
good news of your re-union with your child ; but it was even
better to have it confirmed by you so fully and satisfactorily
in all respects. The only bit of your letter which did not please
me so well was that in which you intimate that you will prob-
ably not return to England this year. However, sorely as I miss
you, and often as I think of you, I am not selfish enough to
wish you to shorten happy hours for a moment, for any possible
gain to myself. As I once saw Miss Butler, although she then
walked unsteadily and did not speak at all, I will presume to
send her my affectionate respects and a hearty " God-blessing "
200 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
to you both. Mrs. Sartoris is well and sang charmingly last
Monday at her own house. She is, I am afraid, soon on the
wing from town ; except, however, on her evenings, I never see
her, for as I rarely go out, and she a good deal, we have few
opportunities for meeting. On Monday next I take my mother
into the country for a month, and pick up my girls at Ipswich
en route : probably I shall be alone until quite the end of
August, for Mowbray is, and Charles will be, at Cambridge after
this week. I shall take some holiday, but when or for how long
is uncertain, as the time and duration must depend upon the
state of my work and my finances. If I go on as I have begun,
you will find a small library awaiting you on your return : for
I have printed since the 17th of May two quarterly articles and
one monthly " Westminster," " National," " Fraser " and I am
just at the end of one for the "Edinburgh," over and above
other matter more solid. Mattishall is certainly let, and prob-
ably for some years, and is now under repair. Trench was very
near becoming a Bishop. It was even announced in the " Times "
that he had been appointed : but the announcement was pre-
mature and most mischievous, for the Queen waxed wroth thereat
and said " the ' Times ' should not make her Bishops ". I hope
however that the publicity given to his name, and the very
general satisfaction expressed at his nomination will in the end
lead to a similar result. Indeed almost any other See will fit
his Christian name better, for " Richard of Gloucester " has an
evil sound, especially for a Bishop with a numerous family of
very young children. Trench, while his name was thus being
bruited abroad, gained some insight into the importunity of
mankind, lay and clerical : for not only was he warmly congratu-
lated by his credulous friends, but received also nearly 300
letters asking for places in Gloucester Diocese. A. Tennyson
was in town a few days since : looking very grave with his beard
and moustaches. He has just purchased the place which he has
rented during the last three years in the Isle of Wight, and
which he affirms to be, both for its privacy and its prospect, a
very Paradise. He has made me promise to visit him, which I
certainly will do one of these days. He read, I am told, 800
lines of a new poem to Mr. Browning (Mr. B. and his wife are
MRS. FANNY KEMBLE !>0l
living at Mr. Kenyon's ' in Devonshire Pl;uv, hut poor Mr.
Kenyon is not there, nor indeed, I fear, likely to live long any-
where, since he has had severe bronchitis for mp.ny months). I
hope the said poem is not after the fashion of Maud, for that
grates on my ear and passes all my understanding. Spedding is
still in town, correcting his slices of Bacon, and disseminating such
fallacies about things in general as would shock you to be told.
Edward Fitz. has been at Paris and up the Rhine (the latter
for the first time). But like Dr. Swell-penjus he travels from
Dan to Beersheba and says "all is naught". Paris not improved
and the Rhine a cockney affair. So he is gone into Suffolk to
console himself with the river Deben and the beauties of Boulge.
A great affliction is in store for him, since his friends the Cowells
depart shortly for Calcutta and he thinks never to see them more.
The Malkins are probably off by this time to the Alps : all
that delayed and troubled him was having let only his larger
house at Corrybrough, and the cottage abiding on his hands.
This is, I believe, all I know of our friends at present, and I
make my letters as much of a gazette as I can, so that they may
interest you. I can report that Mrs. Mitchell [her brother
John's wife] was looking very well on Monday, and that Mrs.
Jameson's 2 head is turned by Ristori.
What a myriad of pities it is that you could not stay long
enough in England to see this charming actress. My sons have
seen her much oftener than I have: for John, having had 3
places continually given him, has very kindly sent us one of
them frequently, and I have made way for the youngsters. My
opinion is therefore hardly worth the having : only she charmed
me beyond expression by her tragic genius and her grace and
beauty, and by her exquisite voice and elocution. Mr. Harness 3
says were he twenty years younger than he is, he could admit
Ristori to be a second Siddons, but at his age he will neither
change nor multiply his idols. Her audiences have greatly im-
1 John Kenyon, 1784-1856, poet and philanthropist, friend and benefactor to
the Brownings and other men of letters.
2 Mrs. Jameson, 1794-1860, published Characteristics of Women, 1832;
Sacred and Legendary Art, 1848-52.
3 Rev. William Harness, 1790-1869, friend and correspondent of Byron.
Boyle Lecturer at Cambridge, 1822. Harness prize for a Shakespearean essay
founded at Cambridge in his memory.
W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
proved in their appreciation of her: at first they were moat
irritatingly cool and decorous; so much so that Ristori was
discouraged, and went to the Opera purposely to see what might
be the dramatic temperature there. Finding it equally chilling,
she was comforted : and now, as I hear, is really warmly ap-
plauded. If such of our performers as are not too old to change
or too ignorant to understand, or too conceited to learn, would
study Ristori's acting, here is an opportunity for instruction.
But they won't avail themselves of it. We are a strange people.
We must burlesque whatsoever is good and beautiful : and
Wigan, who ought to know better, is the great offender. He
has j ust brought out at his theatre a travestie of the Medea,
wherein Ristori is caricatured by Robson ! I won't go to see
it : but the town will, all and sundry. I want no stronger token
of the decline, if not the utter decay of all dramatic feeling than
this. A great artist is here : folks affect to admire, but find
pleasure in laughing at her ape. Is it not monstrous ? You
will, I am sure, hear of her from persons much better qualified
to judge than I am, so I'll say no more. My testimonial from
the Managers came in the form of a very pretty silver inkstand,
presented by a deputation of which Mr. Webster was spokesman.
It was particularly gratifying to me, inasmuch as it evidently
betokened hearty goodwill on their part and all for simply
doing at the right time what I was bound to do. I believe that
the copy-books are correct in saying in round text that " Punctu-
ality is a Virtue," and moreover a very rare one, and moreover
that yourself and myself are among its few practitioners. I
don't know what has come to C. Kean. He must have been
bitten by something: for he has become so wondrously affec-
tionate to me as to alarm me : craves my opinion on this and
that : calls on me and tells me of his wrongs and his wars, and
holds my hand in the market place until it aches. Whether it
be fear or love I cannot tell : though if the former, what can
have put this devil-worship into his head ? " Am I a god that
I should kill or make alive ? " I went to Woolwich on Sunday
and gained some insight both as to what a camp is, and what
management is. There are nearly 4,000 men from the Crimea
now under canvas on the common, artillery waggons drawn up
MRS. FANNY KEMBLE 203
in squares, and horses picketed by hundreds to long lines of rope.
It was known weeks beforehand that these regiments were to
come, and accordingly no earthly thing was ready for them, nor
would, had it been mid-winter instead of mid-summer, and the
men are under canvas and the horses under the sky. Moreover,
jus I can depose, sound and mangy horses are tied together, and
there is a general biting and rubbing throughout the host. The
men and officers have brought over the queerest pets : an
ostrich, a dromedary, goats, Turkish dogs, apes, and a most
benevolent wild boar, who so long as you will scratch him smiles,
but so you soon as you don't, turns on and rends you. Annie
Woolsey (nee Walsham) seems very happy in her Woolwich
home, her husband and baby. Lady Walsham is very far from
well, and now shows the wounds inflicted by her boy's death.
She asked much for you, and was delighted by what I could tell
her. I believe Miss Cottin and Miss Thackeray be going to
Egypt not the least of the marvels I have hitherto recorded
and mean to abide there some time ! Mrs. and Mr. Fairbairn
are in town with the young ladies.
Now I must turn to my " Edinburgh " reviewing and fill up
page 4 to-morrow. Good-night.
JULY 18
We have had no overpowering heat, though it has been a
most genial summer, and the country looks beautifully and
promises abundance. If your lawn looks like " green stubble,"
it looks no worse than mine at Mattishall, although mine, when
I left it, ten years ago, was as fine and smooth as a card -cloth.
There be two sorts of tenants : one which damages the landlord,
and this sort hitherto has fallen to my lot : and the other which
improves the landlord's premises, one of which I am sorry to say
that I am. Between the two I am not a considerable gainer.
I sent word to Mrs. Sartoris that I should post my letter to-day
and would enclose in it any message or messages she might trust
me with. Hearing nothing in reply I incline to think her not
in town. I do not pay this time as I observe you paid yours,
and remember our compact. But my first letter seemed to me
so worthless that I could not resist putting a stamp upon it.
And now, my dear friend, farewell. Do not forget me, for I very,
204 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
very often think of you ; and write to me when you can, for
your letters are the only consolation I have for the loss of your
company. May God bless you now and ever : while you are
happy, I shall be so too ; and if I can in any way serve you here,
you will be very unkind if you don't employ me. My mother
sends her best love. Remember me to Marie who I am sure
takes good care of you.
Ever yours
WM. B. DONNE
As I am possibly your only organ of information, my letter
will not be complete without some tidings of your brother and
his belongings. Henry l goes up to Addiscombe for examination
on the 1st of next month : if he passes and both himself and
his father are very sanguine, as the boy is really studious he
will then be able to take up his commission and depart for India
forthwith. I have some misgivings about the means for the
outfit, as what with paying debts and what with furnishing the
house, very little of the 500 is left. Gertrude is in high
favour with Garcia, and so I suppose she is likely to do him
credit. John has I believe met at last with a publisher for his
archaeological work, but at present having no prospectuses sent
me, I have been unable to exert myself in procuring subscribers.
His book about Leibnitz and the Great Electors must soon be
out, as I saw nearly the 40th sheet lately at the printers. This
is all I know, and most of it is hear-say : for they now live a
long way off, and our avocations do not bring us together. I
have omitted to tell you that Miss St. Leger called on me a few
days ago, and when I reported the good news of you was quite
radiant with pleasure. It did me good to see her.
W. B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
12 ST. JAMES SQUARE
SEPTEMBER 4, 1856
The Hart did not desire the water-brooks more than I
was beginning to desire the sight of your hand-writing, when
Kemble's three children were (i) Henry Charles, mentioned in this
letter, now living, a retired Colonel of 2nd Bengal Cavalry ; (2) Gertrude, married
1859 Charles Santley ; and (3) Mildred, married 1861 Charles Edward, eldest son
of William Bodham Donne.
MRS. FANNY KEMBLE 205
your most welcome letter arrived. Not but that you are
exemplary as a re-spondent, but I keep bad count, beginning to
reckon of hearing from you almost immediately after I have
dispatched my own letter. I believe I understand what you
intimate, and assuredly there is much sadness in " a hope fulfilled,"
yet you have the satisfaction of being with your child, and yet
more in finding her what you wish, and are laying up, I trust,
many occasions of cheerful retrospect for the future. Go where
you will you must be loved and admired, and depend upon it
nowhere more than in your own land. I am afraid this letter
will be little worth your having, for except about myself and my
belongings I have really nothing to tell you. Mrs. Sartoris's
absence (whither they are gone, I know not) is a great misfortune
to me ; for, at her house, I had a chance of meeting some of
your friends and thus of putting something worth your reading
into my letters, whereas now this source of information is dry.
About myself and mine therefore My mother returned last
week much the better for her five weeks' ruralising, and ap-
parently glad to be home again. Blanche and Valentia are still
in Norfolk, and just now with the Keppels at Lexham ; I do not
much expect them before the end of the month, and then, in my
opinion, they will have done pretty well, since they will have
been gadding about ever since June the 21st ! They have been
very happy, and though I shall be very glad to have them with
me again, yet I have not begrudged them a moment of their
stay. From Fred we heard this very day, after having waited,
at last with some anxiety, for 3 or 4 mails in vain. In May he
went up the mountains to a place called Mushallabara which he
describes as wondrously grand and beautiful, and speaks with
equal rapture of its " rains and mists ". To an Anglo-Indian
who for months has been baking at Poonah, to say nothing of
baking in regimentals, I suppose nothing can be more refreshing
than fogs and showers, though it sounds rather strange to us
here so often steeped in them. He seems a busy man. He has
the command of two companies, in Java, on punishment-drill ;
the men having been mutinous, but this punished Fred too
since he had to superintend the drilling. Then he is superin-
tendent of the Mess which in no respect differs from being a
206 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
butler, except that the butler receives wages and the superin-
tendent only his ordinary pay. Next he is secretary of a cricket-
club and a billiard-club, and has lately been Steward at a Ball
given by the Bachelors of the Regt. Finally, and now comes
out the family-failing he is Manager of an Amateur Theatre
and principal comedian thereto. And all this seems to agree
wonderfully with him, as he declares himself "jolly- well". I
spent about a fortnight since a most agreeable day at Cambridge
with Charles and Mowbray, who are living there like independent
gentlemen who but they ! Both I should add are reading
very steadily, but I am sore afraid that although Charles will
be ready in December, the church will not be ready for him.
Nowhere can I hear of a curacy, and without a curacy Bishops
will not lay hands on him or on any one and as regards Bishops,
for a very good reason, since supposing a man cannot live by
the Church the Bishop is bound to maintain him. No wonder
they obey to the letter St. Paul's advice of " lay hands suddenly
on no man ". I have had myself next to no holiday at present
to-morrow I am going for a few days to Bideford in N.
Devon even to see him whose heretical book was burnt at
Oxford some years since J. A. Froude, 1 and who since has
written a very marvellous history showing that Henry VIII.
was a patient and amiable man enough, sadly plagued by his
wives, and " serving them right ". Nevertheless 'tis a very
striking book and written in first rate English, neither Carlylish
nor Macaulayish nor any-ish but his own. I heard incidentally
of Trench this morning. When my informant saw him he was
not rising in the Church but in the world, since he was solemnly
riding a mule up Mont Blanc. Spedding lingers in Town;
occasionally he looks in and perverts my mind by his sophistries.
E. FG. is in Suffolk and silent. I have, I surmise, deeply
offended him by repaying him some money. I must tell you of
a little correspondence of his with certain lawyers. He had to
do in the course of his long family suit with a firm called
" White and Borrett " for lawyers respectable people enough.
Edward however thought they meant to cozen him and told
1 History of England from the Fall of Wolsey to the Defeat of the Spanish
Armada, 12 vols. 1856-70, by James Anthony Froude, born 1818, died 1894.
MRS. FANNY KEMBLE 207
them as much, whereupon they threatened him with an action
for traducing their good name, on which he replied that he had
no concern with their name, and that for aught he cared they
might style themselves " Bite and Worrit ". He could not have
staved off an action more advisedly, such a nickname was quite
unproducible in a Court of Justice. I dined in company with
Mr. Bartley l not long since ; he asked much for you, and was
much interested in all I told him. He is a very agreeable
person and I could not but look upon him with much reverence,
both for his worth and for the heavy afflictions that have ac-
companied his life, and have been so strongly and yet so meekly
borne by him. There is only one theatrical exhibition now
that at all excites my curiosity. At Astleys they are playing
Richard III. on horseback, and the crowning circumstance of
the tragedy is the " Death of White Surrey," whose decease is
only intimated by the author. I must see it when I come back.
Wigan goes on with his abominable burlesque of the Medea. I
was condemned to sit it out lately, as I took a guest to the
stalls ; but although Robson now and then acted the Tragic
finely, the whole thing was I thought flat, and I am sure unpro-
fitable. There are the American actors at the Adelphi, who
are capital in Irish and Yankee characters, the lady Mrs.
Barney Williams especially their dancing an Irish jig really
did me good for that night and the next day. The papers,
including the " Times," are, somewhat late indeed, thundering at
the immorality of " La Traviata ". Mr. Lumley retorts that it is
no worse than the " Vicar of Wakefield " ! oddish notion he must
have of morals, criticism and comparison ! I wonder if he ever
read the " Vicar " ? Meanwhile the clergy are reading " La Dame
aux C.". I have an urgent letter from a parson now before me,
begging for the book by Saturday, that being the day on which,
without exception, sermons are written. The heat has not been
at Philadelphian pitch in England, yet for three weeks it has
been the hottest summer known for many years : we have had
since the 15th of August some very heavy rains and the barley
has been injured by them ; yet there is generally a good harvest
1 George Bartley born about 1782, died 1858, comedian. Stage Manager of
Covent Garden, 1829.
208 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
well got in. I like my new tenant at Swaffham very much,
though he is a gentleman, he attends to business early and late,
and works the farm all the better for having been educated. I
could not help contrasting his appointments with those I re-
member 20 years ago in the same house. Now all is "propre ".
John waits in livery and madame works worsted ; silver forks
and very genteel conversation ; this in A.D. 1856. But in
A.I). 1836 we dined in the kitchen : there was no John, but
Polly to wait, with red ribbons and elbows, madame cooked the
dinner, the forks were two pronged steel ones and the conver-
sation was not genteel. It is perhaps better as it is but the
fun is all gone. The Wilsons (H. H.) 1 are at Yarmouth: he,
I should think, enjoying himself since they occupy Telegraph
house, the broilingest lodging in the town. It was rumoured
that Miss Cottin and Miss Thackeray were going to Egypt :
but Mr. Bartley says that it was not so much as thought of by
either of them, and they are now at Windsor. I can tell you
nothing of John and his belongings not having seen any of them
for weeks. When I called they were from home, and they live
a long way off. Miss Honeywell and Milly [Mildred Kemble]
are come from Hanover : as soon as I return, I will explore that
region of London again, and ought indeed to have done so
before I wrote to you, but I have been so busy as to be unable
to afford an evening for the expedition. You do not give a
very comfortable picture of morals and manners in U. S., but
what do you say to the universal adulteration of all we eat and
drink in the old country ? Dr. Harrak's report is really horrible.
It seems that eggs are the only edible not poisoned. He knew
that London milk was composed of equal parts of milk, chalk,
water and bullocks' brains, that butter was braided with hogs'
lard, that bread, like busts, was made of plaster of Paris, and
that vermilion a strong mineral poison entered largely into
the composition of Cayenne and lobster sauce. But he has
lately been turning his attention to the dead-meat market and
he finds that bullocks generally die of apoplexy, sheep of dropsy,
veal is rendered white bv dosing the calves with castor oil, and
fish are kept no, are made to look fresh by a lotion of sulphuric
1 Horace Hayman Wilson, 1786-1860, Orientalist, Professor of Sanscrit at
Oxford, 1832.
MRS. FANNY KEMBLE 209
acid. One comfort is that my fishmonger is a madman and has
not reason enough to freshen his fish. Good-bye God bless
you and yours remember how welcome your letters are to me
mid believe me ever yours,
WM. B. DONNE
Remember me to Marie. My mother desires her best love to
you. Where does Miss St. Leger live ?
W. B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
12 ST. JAMES' SQUARE
OCTOBER 10, 56
As good news cannot be too speedily communicated I
write a line to tell you (1) that Trench's boy has obtained
a commission in the E. I. Company's service, Bengal Presidency,
and (2) that Trench himself is Dean of Westminster, and
no mistake this time, though there was about his Bishopric.
I have just seen Mrs. Sartoris, who is looking very well and
very handsome. As she is about to write to you I leave her to
tell all news about herself and hers, except that her husband is
better and children all well Greville just lodged at Eton.
My belongings are all returned : the girls had a three months'
run in the country, paying 8 visits. I have let my house at
last, and I hope permanently. For myself I have been very
little out of town this summer, enjoying the reflected pleasure
that my belongings were happy in the country. My mother
came back ten years younger and better for her rural felicity.
London, which was unusually full for a few weeks, has been
unusually empty since the first week in July. I sit here some-
times for days together without seeing a soul, but a man who
has on his hands the compilation of a volume as big as a Church
Bible, viz., a classified Catalogue of near 80,000 volumes, does
not need many interlopers.
Are you turning your steps to any city for the winter ? I
am afraid it will not be to London just yet.
Hoping there is a letter for me on its way across the
Atlantic, I am
Ever yours
WM. B. DOXXF,
14
210 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
It may be interesting to quote a statement made in the
Academy and Literature, 24th January, 1903 : " The new
catalogue of the London Library is to be issued to subscribers
in February. The Library contains something like 220,000
volumes, and the catalogue contains a matter of 2,170,000
words. The actual printing was commenced a year ago, and
8,000 words a day have been submitted in proof. The diffi-
culties of such a task are obvious, but so great a library needs
all that can be done in the way of cataloguing."
And again 13th June, 1903, is the following : " The annual
report of the Committee of the London Library contains some
interesting facts. The total cost of the admirable catalogue
issued not long ago was 4,250, but the gross charge to the
special catalogue account has been only =3,488 7s. lid. The
sales up to the end of April amounted to 1,361 Is. 10d.,
and there remain in stock 1,700 copies. The total membership
of the library is now 2,912."
W. B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
Nov. 7, 1856
Do you remember the most remarkable of all Madame
de Sevigne's remarkable letters that in which she announces
the intended marriage of Mdlle. d'Eu, Mdlle. de Dombes,
la Grande Mademoiselle to the Due de Lauzun ? If you have
her correspondence at hand, refer to the letter before you
read a word more of mine if you have it not, do your best
to recollect the letter, for none but Madame de Sevigne's own
words can do justice to the intelligence I am about to give
you. It begins, "Je m'en vais vous mander la chose la plus
etonnante, la plus surprenante, la plus merveilleuse," etc. And
I am going as Harley says in the Vampire " not to astonish you,
Madam, but to paralyze you". I am going to affirm what,
when rumoured of yore, I have often denied : to contradict my
own prophetic soul: to approve in a measure what I have
repeatedly averred to be improbable, impossible, absurd, out of
the way, out of the question, gossip, humbug, twaddle in short
I am now going to announce not that I am come into a
fortune, nor that Maurice has been burnt in Smithfield, nor
that Trench has been hung, instead of the Bell, in the new
clock-tower, nor that Mrs. Trench has gone off with the Bishop
MRS. FANNY KEMBLE 211
of Oxford, nor Mrs. Fairbaini with Charles, nor anything indeed
that you can fancy or dream, or have ever expected or longed
for but simply that Edward FitzGerald is at this moment, or
in ;i very few days or hours will be " Benedick the married
man " ! He is married or going to be married to Lucy Barton.
" Belier, mon ami, vous me ferez grand plaisir, si vous com-
mencerez par le commencement." Who is " Lucy Barton " ?
Lucy is the daughter of Bernard Barton, whilome Banker's
clerk and poet at Woodbridge. She is about a year younger
than her husband, consequently about 48 : and in respect that
she is tall and well filled out, Charles is wont to call her Barton-
Barton, conceiving, I suppose, that Baden-Baden means double
Baden. However, though there be much of her, it is so much
good, and as she and Edward have been intimate friends for at
least a quarter of a century, and she has great reverence for him,
I am not clear though I have been as incredulous as Thomas
and as full of denial as Peter, but that both have consulted
and concluded wisely. May God bless them both, and this I
am sure you will echo from the bottom of your warm heart. . . .
We heard Trench read himself in at the Abbey. His voice,
when he has the grace to govern it, is a fine one, and on that
occasion he was quite audible even to persons " demi-sourds " like
myself. Poor Mrs. Trench is a good deal disconcerted at the
prospect of exchanging the pleasant country peace, gardens
and green fields for Dean's Yard, Westminster. It is like
" putting on the weeds of Dominic " after being accustomed to
more handsome apparel. Nor is her dismay lessened after
inspection of her future residence. The late Dean (Buckland)
was not only a geologist himself: but he brought up his sons
and daughters in the love of skeletons and carcasses, and so the
house from garret to cellar is full of dead things' bones. I
reminded Mrs. T. of EzekieFs question " Who shall make
these dry bones live ? " and of the practical answer to it But
she is far from wishing Ezekiel or any other prophet to ask such
questions on her behalf, seeing that these bones belonged in
their day to huge lizards, serpents, sloths, and mammoths. Yet
if fat sheep tend to make fat children, she may take comfort
still ; for the sheep that feed in the Cathedral-close are as plump
212 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
as the plumpest of the canons; "the mountain sheep may be
sweeter, but the churchyard sheep are fatter " as fat, indeed, as
John Forster, already a portly man, is likely to become, now
that he has married the bouncing relict of Colborne, the pub-
lisher, with copyrights for crinoline. . . .
There has been a sort of winter season opera at Drury Lane ;
Grisi, Mario and a very respectable troupe performing " Norma,"
" Lucrezia," etc., to overflowing houses : and H. M. T. opened for
a few nights last month with equal success to indulge the
" pensive public " once again with their beloved " La Traviata ".
We went to see the " M. Night's Dream " at the Princess' last
week. So far as scenery goes it is mighty pretty, especially the
woods and fairy bower by moonlight, for there is some new device
by which a silvery light is thrown from above upon the stage,
which looks like a green lawn. Harley was a good Bottom :
of the rest silence is the best grace of speech : not that they
were worse than they would have been at any other theatre.
But after your Readings, all other Shaksperian performances
are to me scarcely endurable. The ' Pizarro," which they yoke
with the "M. N. D.," went off much better. But I dread going
to the Play with young folks. Sit they can and sit they did
from 7-12 at night, until I was nearly dead with cramp and
weariness. Mrs. Stowe's "Dred "* is not so generally popular as
her " Uncle Tom" proved, although the judicials, such as Sped-
ding and Crabb Robinson, like it better and applaud it highly.
But not even my respect for their opinion will, I think, induce me
to read it. The older I grow the greater is my reluctance to
form new acquaintance with either beings or books, and if I
live long enough, I shall be left a century behind the rest of
the world. . . .
12 ST. JAMES' SQUARE,
NOVEMBER 7, 56
W. B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
Nov. 26, 1856
It would have been a very mean thing to send you a note
only across the Atlantic, had there not been reasons and
l Dred ; or, A Tale of the Great Dismal Swamp, by Mrs. Beecher Stovve,
pub. 1856.
MRS. FANNY KEMBLE
causes for it. But in the first place I wished to forestall every one
in sending you the news of Trench's preferment, and there was
barely time to catch the Saturday post ; in the next the note
was of the postscript-kind sent after a previously despatched
letter, like a messenger after a kite. However if evil there were,
you have returned good for evil, bv sending me instead a letter
of just dimensions most welcome ?is all your words always
are to me. . . .
I doubt whether "the old country" won't flog the new one
in greed of gain and the rascality that springs from it. Within
eighteen months England has witnessed four of the most villain-
ous and sweeping cases of swindling in any record. Some cases
occurred before you left us : but within the last 6 weeks we
have had a Mr. R. doing the Crystal Palace Company out of
80,000, and a Mr. X. the G. N. Railway Company out of
140,000. Both these worthies seem to have thought there
was much savour in the Parable of the Unjust Steward, since
they literally wrote down 50 for 80 or 80 for 50 just as it suited
their interests. Both also presumed that so long as they made
a good appearance the public would think them honest men,
and accordingly Mr. R., with a salary of 150 per annum, lived
at the rate of 5,000, and Mr. X., with a salary of 250, lived
like the Master of Murphy himself, deeming nothing too dear
or too good for him. And so they played their parts.
A. Tennyson and his wife have been in London for a few days ;
both well : he has purchased the place he hired in the Isle of
Wight, and is, I understand, working in good earnest at the
" Morte d' Arthur ". So far the reception of " Maud " has done
him good, as it has shown him that there may be too much of
merely lyrical effusions and that a great poet requires a large
canvas. Mrs. Browning has been delivered of " Aurora Leigh,"
i.e., of many hundreds of verses, which I have not read and do
not intend to read, not out of disrespect, but simply because
I do not understand either her writings or her husband's, and
a sign of age I suppose require poetry to be some years old
before I can relish it. Yes ; the London Library does contain
nearly 80,000 volumes, and I am the luckless wight whose duty
it is to sort and give an account of those same. . . .
W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
That fine sample of an old lady, Mrs. Basil Montagu, died
lately at her daughter's, aged 84 almost the last survivor I
should think of Charles Lamb's friends. Thackeray goes shortly
to Edinburgh to repeat the lectures which put so much money
in his purse in America. I have not seen him for many months,
being unlucky in my calls; indeed he fluctuates a good deal
between Paris and London, his daughters spending six months
of the year at the former place with their grandmother. Kings-
ley is in town, and I am soon going to spend a Sunday with him
in Hampshire ; he is working at a new novel on present times,
having strangely come to the conclusion that we are just now
living in the best of all possible worlds. I am afraid that such
a subject will not suit him as well as " Westward Ho ! " did ; for
I doubt whether he is a very shrewd observer of social nuances
such as make contemporary stories pleasant. However he will
be worth reading, for strength at least must come out of the
strong. Should you come across my friend Laurence, who is
or was at Boston, remember me most kindly to him. He was
doing so well there that Mrs. L. and her children have joined
him. Tom Taylor comes to see me to-day; he is engaged on
something that requires all our books in any language relating
to Flanders and the Flemings, though whether it be a play,
a poem, or a tale he has not intimated. He tells me that
Wigan is out of danger, but shrunk to his bones. Taylor's
colleague, that old man C. Reade, 1 is writing a newspaper novel,
justifying himself on the very substantial plea that he is paid
for such weekly contribution quadruple of what he would be
paid for a just book. He sits watching one, when he calls,
with head on one side like a magpie, and deriving seemingly
much amusement from the contemplation. He may think of
turning me into the " pere respectable " of a romance. Long
are his calls, long his pauses of silence, during which it is useless
to talk to him : he hears or marks you not. Yesterday I
ventured to have a dinner party, Froude, Spedding and Parker
it was with some reluctance, for Mary [the old servant] is
1 Charles Reade, novelist and dramatist, 1814-1884, author of Masks and
Faces (1852), It is Never too Late to Mend (1856), the novel Cloister on the Hearth
(1861).
MRS. FANNY KEMBLE 215
very old, and will not admit of any helper ; but I found the
means of lightening her cumbrance about serving by having
a dish or so from M. Epitaux in the Colonnade : and we did
mighty well. Spedding discoursed like Socrates himself, main-
taining among other miserable paradoxes that the only correct
English writer now or formerly, was Thomas Carlyle ! His
Bacon will appear in monthly volumes next year. We have
had snow already : indeed in the country a good deal which is
somewhat early for England and fills me with dread, for snowy
weather is the only sort in which existence is really burdensome
to me : it irritates me as thunder storms do some people, and
the east wind others : it stiffens my joints and makes my skin
like parchment : it renders me at once sluggish and irascible
and utterly odious. Turner's pictures are now exhibiting at
Marlborough House, if indeed being hung in dark narrow rooms
be exhibiting. Beheld altogether one sees how great an artist
he was. I wish you could see them : some dozen are altogether
wondrous. There is a new statue in Trafalgar Square of Gen.
Sir Charles Napier the " Hooknosed fellow ! " of Scinde, and as a
portrait is certainly very good. . . .
Nov. 26, 1856
12 ST. JAMES' SQUARE
W. B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
JAN. 20, ^1857
. . . The girls are just back from a very pleasant, though
a farewell visit to Itchenstoke. I went for them one afternoon
and brought them back the next morning and found the house
of his very reverence turned topsy-turvy by preparations for
Tableaux vivants, which came off that evening. Here Blanche
and Valentia did yeomen's service ; for, if they learnt nothing
else at Brussels, they learnt the art of dressing up and posturing,
and transmogrified even the Dean himself into a very stately and
handsome Louis XVI., much handsomer indeed than the poor
shiftless original can ever have been. He was not guillotined :
but he was represented parting with his family. I was promptly
pressed into the service : and as soon as I entered the house was
informed that I had a scene of "Julius Caesar " to learn then and
216 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
there while I was eating a cold chicken and drinking sherry ;
this good fare was favorable to my memory, and as regards my
part, I was perfect : though as regards my attire, I was " a
stranger Pyramus than ere played,"" since my toga was a crimson
dressing-gown with a blanket arranged for a cloak. My partner
in this exhibition was a young Oxonian divine, even the Curate
of the Parish, who, wrapped in a sheet, and with good household
flour on his face, and a laurel crown on his head, did signify the
ghost of Caesar. In the tiring-room I thought we had come to
grief, for as soon as he was thus disguised, untimely scruples
seized on him, and he asked me whether he looked clerical ! I
could not say he did ; but reminded him that even David danced
and Saul disguised himself. Altogether it was a very prosperous
evening and the neighbourhood, I hear, is ringing with envy and
wonder at the spectacle.
We have lost an excellent friend in Mr. Manning of Diss, 1
whom you may have seen at your Readings, there, and whose
portrait hung behind your chair. He died full of years, honour
and good name at the age of 86, almost without pain or illness,
and in full possession of all his faculties. A kinder or wiser man
he does not leave behind him. I never witnessed a more im-
pressive sight than his funeral. Every shop in the town was
closed, and every inhabitant of it was either in the Church or
accompanied the procession from the Rectory to the Churchy ard.
John and his children dined with us on New Year's day, and
we were very merry and noisy. His book the collection of
State papers is much approved of, and he has new subscribers
enough to begin printing his work on Sepulchral Antiquities,
and has also found a publisher for a second edition of his Anglo-
Saxon Charters. Moreover, he is, I believe, engaged with a
salary to superintend the archaeological department of the Man-
chester Exposition. It is very good for him to have returned to
England, and I hope his prospects will henceforward go on
brightening. . . .
1 William Manning, born 1771. Ninth Wrangler. Dean of Caius College,
Cambridge, 1799; Rector of Diss, Norfolk, 1811 to 1857. Married, 28th July,
1812, Elizabeth, daughter of Rev. Wm. Sayer Donne, Rector of Colton,
Norfolk. Died 3rd January, 1857.
MRS. FANNY KEMBLE 217
Spedding has brought out his first volume of Bacon, and it is
such a volume as his friends and the world looked for, just,
learned, accomplished in all its parts. You are quite right in
surmising that I would have ordered another dish from Epitaux
for your behoof, and if you will dine with me, I will arrest even
Kingsley, and make Epitaux's fortune. One great pleasure in
having a house of my own again, instead of this precipice, will be
that I shall then have no compunction in asking you to sit at
meat with us, but you must do so very often to clear the scores
of your hospitality to me and mine ; neither do I wish them
cleared, for you are one of the very few persons to whom I love
to be a debtor. To-morrow the girls and self dine with Arthur
[Malkin]. I have sent him " al solito " a Turkey, bigger than his
wife, nearly as big as myself. Pray heaven he have not cooked
it too soon for I believe it to be a stag, and a stag you may keep
three weeks, where this has been slain ten days only. Ed. Fitz-
Gerald has taken rooms at 24 Portland Terrace for 3 months,
much to my delight, for he is within reach, much to his own
discomfiture, for the rooms it seems are dark and dismal, looking
forward on the wild beasts, 1 looking backward on a cemetery.
The paper of his sitting-room is a dark, indeed an invisible
green, the windows are narrow, and he says that " his contem-
porary " which, being interpreted, means his wife ! looks in
this chamber of horrors like Lucrezia Borgia. Most extraor-
dinary of Benedicks is our friend. He talks like Bluebeard.
Speaks "O' leaping o'er the line " : really distresses even Spedd-
ing's well-regulated mind. I have however so much confidence
in him that I believe all this irony with a rooted regard for
Lucy, and so much confidence in Lucy as to believe she'll tame
Petruchio, swagger as he list. Yet for the present I agree with
your sister. "Your account," quoth she, "of Edward Fitz-
Gerald is very droll, but not comfortable I think. At least if I
was his wife, I should not like him even to play at being bored
by me. I think my woman's feeling would revolt at that, and
my woman's folly, at being called the < Contemporary '."
Connection of subjects is surely not a virtue of this letter.
I meant to have told you in its proper place that E. FitzGerald
1 In the Zoological Gardens.
218 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
dined with me on Christmas Day, and that we drank your health
in a bottle of your own claret, and wished you all round every
good wish of the season, and a speedy return for our own sakes.
Thackeray is making a mint of money by his Lectures on the
four Georges. He is paid 50 per lecture, and besides lectur-
ing twice a week at the Mary-le-bone Institute, he goes to Bath,
Brighton, Newcastle, and whither not. Blanche and Valentia
and myself went on Tuesday evening last to H. Reeve's. Thrice
the number of people, beyond the capacity of the rooms, were
present, and the consequence was that movement was impossible,
and we remained nearly in one place all the evening. To make
this absurdity yet more absurd there was dancing ! and I saw
Blanche figuring away in the Lancers on a space you might
cover with a pocket-handkerchief. It was a jammed, crammed,
and before I retired to rest, a well damned party also. The
only comfort I found was discovering on a sideboard an Etruscan
vase full of excellent beer, a treasure I communicated to John
Kemble and Frederic Barwell, who like myself were nearly ex-
hausted with bumpings and thirst. I am still rather lame from
the descent of a weighty widow on my left foot, and I am not,
sure that my ribs are quite as they were on Tuesday morn-
ing. . . .
JANUARY 20, 1857
12 ST. JAMES' SQUARE
On the death of John Mitchell Kemble, 26th March, 1857
William Bodham Donne was appointed Examiner of Plays.
The next month, i.e., 25th April, 1857, there appeared the
following in Punch 1 :
" A respected correspondent writes to us to say that ever since
the appointment of the amiable gentleman and excellent scholar,
now Censor of Plays he, our correspondent, has been hammering
at a joke, which is to bring in the names of that gentleman, an
admirable actress at the Lyceum [Miss Woolgar] and two rivers
in Russia. He has not quite done it. But thinks he could
make it out if we would give him a little more time. He may
have as much as he pleases, but we dare say we could knock it
off for him at once.
" Ques. If the best Actress at the Lyceum liked a farce, why
must the Manager make a long journey to get it licensed ?
1 By kind permission of the Proprietors of Punch.
MRS. FANNY KEMBLE 219
" Ans. Because he would have to go from the Dnieper to the
Vistula : certainly not sold again ! Because he would have to
go from the Woolga' [Volga] to the Donne [Don]."
W. B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
JUNE 5, 1857
. . . Thackeray has just completed his lecturing and netted
no small sum thereby. He told me with great pleasure, the
other day, that at last he was worth a clear ^500 a year,
and had just signed an agreement with his Publisher for
a new novel in monthly numbers, for which he is to be paid
300 per number ! I remember the time when his copy per
sheet was worth no more than mine, viz., from 10 to 16 guineas,
but he was born with brains, and while I retain my original
value, he has just twenty-folded his worth. However I do not
grumble, as my pen has, from first to last, served me well, and
I hope for a few years to come will continue to do so. Fitz-
gerald [sic] has rejoined his better-half, and John Fitzgerald [sic]
just hired a sixth house less than half-a-dozen will not serve him
to occupy at once. . . .
12 ST. JAMES' SQUARE
JUNE 5, 1857
W. B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
JULY 5, 1857
. . . My own house at Mattishall is well cared for, the
gardens have received a cultivated aspect and the planta-
tions are very thriving and pretty. In the autumn I shall go
down again and cut down every other tree in order that the
standards may thrive better and look yet prettier next year. . . .
I have had lately a very cheerful note from E. FG., he
finds some people to his liking at Gorlestone, folks who dine
at one and don't object to early teas or old clothes : moreover
his nieces have been staying with him who, as he improperly says,
"are, since his marriage, his chief comfort". I do not know
who wrote " School Days at Rugby " ; J Mrs. Stanley told me it
1 Tom Brown's Schooldays, by Thomas Hughes, born 1822, died 1896, was
published anonymously in 1857.
220 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
was a most faithful picture of school-life there. I must read it
directly, for I am very highly gratified at your supposition that
I might have been the author of such a "jewel of a book ". By
the way I am not very far at Walton from Winchfield another
station on the S.W. Line and near Winchfield at Eversley
Rectory dwells Charles Kingsley perhaps if I duly cultivate his
acquaintance, you may, after all, meet him under my roof! His
brother-in-law Froude is working up his winter-collections at the
State-Paper Office into two more vindicatory volumes of Henry
VIII. The Trenches I have hardly seen, not because I am
ashamed to go, but because winding up and packing up have
nearly engrossed my whole leisure. The Dean finds his leisure
for writing much curtailed, now that he is not only compelled
to give more time to spiritual matters, but also enforced to dis-
charge such secular duties as dining with the Lord Mayor, and
"swarreying" with Lord Palmerston.
I hope to crow over him soon with my books, for he crowed
unmercifully over me, while I was the bondsman of the Reading
Public.
W. B. DOXM
When Mr. Donne became Examiner of Plays he resigned
the Librarianship of the London Library, and took a house, first
at Walton-on-Thames, then at Blackheath, where the family
remained until the death of old Mrs. Donne in 1859, when the
final move was made to 40 (afterwards 25) Weymouth Street,
Portland Place.
W. B. Donne to J. W. Blakesley
LONDON LIBRARY
AUGUST 19, 1857
MY DEAR BLAKI.M i ^ ,
After your kind offer to introduce me I feel bound
to tell you that I have been this evening to tea with Mr. Rogers,
auspice Crabb Robinson.
Whether the nonagenarian was in specially good cut', I
cannot tell, having no means at present of comparing one of his
R. C. TRENCH
moods with another. But I came away charmed with him.
There is a dignity and a pathos about him which is very
touching. I had rather looked for a Mephistopheles of 90.
But there is no truth in this world. " On me 1'a dit."
It was very curious to hear " The Task " spoken of as almost
n contemporary poem. Mr. Rogers has invited me to breakfast
with him on Sunday week. Perhaps we may one day meet
there.
Yr. affect, friend
W. B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to R. C. Trench
g THE GROVE
BLACKHEATH
JUNE 17, 1858
MY DEAR TRENCH,
We had a letter from Frederick 1 yesterday. He
describes the attack of the Fort very vividly, and though he
admits of having received two shrewd cuts on the left arm and
just above the elbow of that arm, makes light of his wounds, and
appeals to the good spirits in which he writes as a token that he
is not much hurt. However this morning Mrs. Newport, the
mother of the brave fellow that was cut down beside Fred, has
enclosed to me letters from Sir Hugh Rose, Col. Liddell, and
Major Gall, from which it is plain that Frederick is severely but
thank God not dangerously wounded and that his and Newport's
conduct is looked upon as remarkably gallant. Major Gall says
that he never saw anything pluckier than the way they dashed
in, and fought against tremendous odds, and that the regiment
has lost for a time "two of its best and bravest officers". The
wounded pair were doing well at Ghanzi when the mail was
made up, and Fred speaks of the luxury of being under the
shadow of canvas and in a recumbent posture after the toil of
the summer campaign. Unless he recovers too quickly he will
probably be sent down to Bombay and so be exempt for a time
1 Major Frederick Clench Donne, third son of W. B. Donne, was born gth
November, 1834. He was wounded in the Indian Mutiny (see this and next
letter). He died in 1875 and was buried at Shooter's Hill Cemetery, Black-
heath.
W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
from the dangers of battle and the sun. He had just before
he was wounded been put on the staff: this however is only
suspended, and his wound will not be unfavourable to his pro-
motion eventually, so we rejoice with trembling and are desirous
to be most thankful for his escape from worse and for the credit
he has done his name.
With many thanks for kind inquiries,
Affect, yours
W. B. DONNE
W. B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
THE GROVE
BLACKHEATH
JUNE 25, 1858
... I enclose a letter from Fred. You will grieve to hear
that he has been severely wounded, but rejoice that he has
gained himself great credit as a good and gallant soldier.
Little of this appears on the slip of newspaper : but after
receiving the letter from Fred we got others from Sir Hugh
Rose, Col. Liddell and Major Gall all mentioning in high terms
of praise u Donne and Newport". They seem, indeed, to have
led a sort of forlorn hope. After getting in front of the gate
which they blew up, and after blowing it up, the prospect before
them was a narrow passage turning off at a sharp curve. Major
Gall describes the rush made by these two lads as one of the
most gallant things ever witnessed. As soon as they were past
the gate- way they were surrounded by the enemy, and Major
G. says he saw Donne and Newport cutting away at about six
black fellows apiece. He laments their temporary loss for active
service as " the loss of two of the best and bravest officers in the
force". A Lieutenant Armstrong, who was also engaged and
temporarily blinded by a stone, writes, "on partly regaining my
sight and consciousness I saw Donne and Newport come thunder-
ing up the passage surrounded by swords and bayonets and
cutting clean through them all ". Sir Hugh Rose's letter was
to say that he had received the report of their gallantry and
conduct and should certainly report it to the Commander in
Chief. .
MRS. FANNY KEMBLK
I spent about a fortnight ago two extremely pleasant days
at the Lodge, Old Windsor. The party consisted of the Malkins,
Captain Aide (I think that's the way to spell his name), Mi's.
Sartoris and your humble servant. We went to Ascot on the
Cup-day, and a very pretty sight it is, not so much the race,
for which and the like, none of the party greatly cared, but
the "ensemble," the company, the course, and such gangs of
handsome gipsies as I have not seen for many a year. Our
fortunes were told over and over again for nothing, though I
for one protested that my fortune was over long back : howbeit
I did give sixpence for luck at last, for an old crone, turning
savagely upon me and saying, "You'll never marry again and
never die in debt " (which being interpreted meant, I suspect,
"you are too ugly and too mean to win or to spend"), I
put sixpence into her palm, saying that it was the reward of
truth. . . .
I sent you a " Times " containing an account of New Covent
Garden Theatre. It is a very beautiful building, and though
so much larger, is much more like the old acting Theatre than
was the altered Opera House. I have officially inspected the
building twice i.e., the parts not meeting the public eye : and
it is a marvellous Work for space, solidity, ventilation and com-
fort of every kind, the more marvellous for having been begun
on the 20th of October last, and completed by the 12th of the
following May. I am bound to say that the Contractor for the
work (the architect is Mr. Charles Barry) is a Norfolk man a
man whom I well remember in a very humble carpenter's shop
at Thorpe, near Norwich, who in those days would have gladly
taken his five or his ten guineas for planning farm-premises, but
who now was able to give a Bond for =10,000, to be paid in case
he did not complete his job by the time specified in his contract.
Mdme. Ristori is in London at the St. James' Theatre, but not
doing by any means well. This is owing partly to the hot
weather, partly to her being, both in London and at Paris, less
attractive than Rachel. Ed. FitzGerald is rusticating in Nor-
folk at his brother-in-law's, Mr. Kerrich's his better-half is
dangerously near him, having gone Eastward too. He has been
jaunting about a good deal of late, and looks all the better for
224 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
change of scene and celibacy. Has the fame of Mr. Buckle's 1
work on Civilisation reached you ? It is worth the reading, and
is generally worthy of its fame. It is very heterodox, very para-
doxical, very learned : but its greatest merits, in my opinion, are
(1) the style, (2) that it is an excellent resume of much that
was previously known and scattered about. How long he means
to live, or where Mr. B. means to go to, I cannot conceive : for
his book, though it weighs 3 Ib. and J and contains upwards of
800 pages, is only Introductory, and whereas he intends writing
a " History of Civilisation," this is only the Preface to a " His-
tory of Civilisation in England " alone ! However everybody
reads or at least talks of it, and though published about five
months ago it has gone already to the second edition. I have
met him once or twice : he improves slightly on acquaintance :
but has these two inferior advantages, viz., that he talks inces-
santly and shrieks like a pea-hen.
W. B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
JULY 8, 1858
... I did go to Norwich. But in fact I merely alighted
in that city, gave my vote, and returned by next train. I
thought that it would be well to spare the heat and noise of
Norwich during an election, so I went down on the previous
evening to Ely, and wandered about, by moonlight, the Cathedral
and its precincts, and was amply repaid by its glorious beauty
and deep calm. " They dreamt not of a perishable home who
thus could build."
On the 20th Mowbray and myself are going to a fete at the
Lodge, Windsor, where Gertrude is to sing, and your sister [Mi's.
Sartoris] to act and all sorts of nice things in prospect.
Madame Ristori is to play Jiuditta in a few evenings : but to
please the thick-skulled superstitious British public I have been
obliged to find her a new name for the Tragedy, and new titles
for the characters, and all because the book of Judith happens
to be bound up with the Bible, being all the while as much
1 Henry Thomas Buckle, 1821-1862. First volume of History of Civilisa-
tion, 1857 ; second volume, 1861. Died at Damascus.
MRS. FANNY KEMBLE 225
inspired as " Tom Jones ". When shall we be a wiser people ?
I am afraid her season has been a very unsatisfactory one-
Though the Houses are sitting, many families have fled from
the heat and the odours of the river, and Ristori does not
strike the fancy of the many as Rachel did. . . .
THE GROVE, BLACKHEATH, KENT
JULY 8, 1858
PS. . . . The Thames is so pestilential that Hon. Members
are fain to speak, holding their noses, and many of them are laid
up with sickness so they purpose closing the session. The Lord
Chief Justice shut up his Court lately, as neither his Lordship,
the jury nor the Bar could stand the odour; and we only want
a Bishop to catch the typhus fever to persuade the public that
the river needs scouring. It is to be hoped that one at least of
those holy men will die for his country's good, or next year we
shall be lying all like frogs at the edge of a dry-pond, gasping,
on our backs. . . .
W. B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
JULY 3iST, 1858
... I might be dead and buried for any trouble the
Theatres give me, or for any fees they pay for new pieces,
never within my recollection was there such a dearth in the land.
Four or five are either being pulled down, in order to be en-
larged, or cleaned, painted and decorated. The others play
pieces licensed when George IV. was King. " Merchant of
Venice " beautifully adorned at the Princess's ; unbeautifully
acted. And when we have a great artist, we don't go and see
her. Madame Ristori played to half-filled benches, and seldom
got more applause than I have heard awarded to Mr. Dibdin.
But though I get no money, I do get drink from the Theatres :
for praise be blest, two of the Saloon-Managers are also vint-
ners, and one sends me a case of red wine, and the other of white.
For what cause the 'mighty knows, since I have been no more
civil to them than to others.
THE GROVE, BLACKHEATH
JULY 31, 1858
15
226 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
W. B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
SEPT. 9, 1858
. . . The stage has lost one of its oldest inhabitants
and most agreeable in Harley. 1 He played Lancelot Gobbo
last Friday week with as much force as ever ; but he had
scarcely reached the green-room when he fell down paralyzed,
and, with the exception of the words "I have an exposition to
sleep" (so the tale goes), never spoke again. He had never had
a day's serious illness, and he departed within a few hours after
his seizure without pain or struggle. He was a good and
amiable man, so we have no right to say "poor Harley"
though I am sorry to add, on his surviving sister's account, that
he died poor, and that she, an invalid for many years, was
wholly dependent on him. At one time he had made by his
profession several thousand pounds (people say =20,000), but at
another time he speculated on railways, and lost it nearly all.
Far as my stage-memory goes back (and it is a pretty long and
strong one) I recollect Harley, and to the last he always amused
me. Latterly I knew him ; and therefore, on both accounts,
shall something miss him. . . .
I have been to Ireland to fetch home my stray sheep
Blanche and Valentia, who have been staying in the neigh-
bourhood of Belfast since 10th of June and until the 18th of
August. I went over simply to bring them back, and including
the journey to and fro, I remained out a whole week. A
comfortable people are the Irish : they drove me about all day,
or found me a good horse to ride, and in the evening I read to
them Shakespeare or Tennyson. So I was sorry to leave them,
more particularly as my jaunt gave me a new start in health
and spirits. And though I have not yet been to Scotland, I am
going on or after the 20th of this month : rather late, but
unavoidably so, as the Lord Chamberlain cannot spare me
before. I am fallen on evil times : I am paid no more, indeed
rather less, than my predecessors in the Exnminership, but I am
set to do as much work as the whole series, since there was a
1 Harley, the actor, 1786-1858, at Covent Garden with Macready and Mdlle.
Vestris, 1838-1840; excelled in the role of Shakespearian clowns.
MRS. FANNY KEMBLE 227
censor, ever performed. I descend into the bowels of the earth :
I mount upon such pinnacles as Satan stands on in " Paradise
Regained " : I inhale evil smells : I cross dangerous places :
" sometimes I fall into the water and sometimes into the fire,"
and all for 500 a year, besides injuring my mind by reading
nonsense and perilling my soul by reading wickedness. And
the " Household Words " must take up the parable against me
and maintain me to be " a superannuated spectre ! " I wish the
editor or author could be enforced to follow me up or down
some of the ladders and staircases I have recently trodden, and
that I were before him in one case or behind him in the other :
wouldn't I fall by accident ? . . .
I met Thackeray in Trafalgar Square the other day : he,
like myself, is press-bound, though in far different ways. He
does not look well or speak happily. E. FG. is rusticating in
Norfolk in great ease and comfort, notwithstanding that his
moiety or, as he calls her, "the elder," is also rusticating within
a few miles of him. Pleasant but not proper this. The Romillys
(E.) are delivered at last from their long and sore trial in poor
Mrs. Marcer, who died some three or four months ago. No
people ever performed a duty more bravely. Old W . . .
L . . . has been in a most awful scrape at Bath. He has
been prosecuted for a most outrageous libel on some, I believe,
very harmless people, and has to pay them the exact sum which
FalstafF borrowed of Justice Shallow, over and above his costs.
It is sad to see an old and an extraordinary man so demeaning
himself.
9 THE GROVE, BLACKHEATH
SEPTEMBER 9, 58
W. B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
SEPT. 14, 1858
. . . The growing bigotry of the middle classes in this
country is something frightful. In this day's paper I read
that Mr. Alfred Wigan who now lives at Brighton, lately
placed his son, a boy of nine years old, at a school in that town.
A few days after the lad had been in the school, his master
W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
brings him back saying that as the son of an actor he cannot
think of keeping him in his establishment! Colchester did
pretty well, but not so well as Brighton, about two years ago.
The Literary Institution there turned " Eraser's Magazine " out
of its library because F. D. Maurice wrote for it. Now here was
a lie with a circumstance. For Maurice never wrote for " Fraser ".
I have a portentously wise godson among Blakesley's family at
Ware. He had quarrelled with his aunt, an aged spinster, and
had been reading, contemporaneously with the quarrel, that
fable of ^Esop's of the old woman and the empty wine cask.
Desirous of being reconciled to his aunt, and his memory
fraught with ^Esop, he clasps her in his arms and says, " since
the dregs are so sweet, what must the liquor have been ? " I shall
be glad when this youth is confirmed and off the sponsorial
hands.
I met an old acquaintance lately, a gamekeeper, who was
much enamoured in '56 of a very pretty rustic lass. He married
her in '57 and when I saw him, I naturally congratulated him
on the accomplishment of his wishes. But John in '58 wore
rather a long face when matrimony was on the tapis. He said,
" It is very strange how fond I was of that woman : I could have
eat her " adding, after a pause " and I wish, to God, I had ".
. . . Are you fond of history ? Then I will tell you on the best
authority that our Sovereign Lady requires for her morning
toilet, 6 dozen towels ; 8 tumbler-glasses for her teeth ; and two
sheets for her bath : item, six and twenty " bougies de cire " for
her apartment at night. " I hope, here be facts."
9 THE GROVE, BLACKHEATH
SEPT. 14, 1858
W. B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
MY DEAR FRIEND,
I am always sure of your sympathy in any happi-
ness of mine, and, therefore, though I have written so lately, send
you a line to say that our dear Fred arrived this afternoon from
Bombay with 18 months' leave of absence. He is in good health,
though his wounds look ugly, and his left arm is a mere appen-
MRS. FANNY KEMBLE
dage to the shoulder. He is grown very handsome, and wears a
beard that might become the father of the faithful. He made
so light of his wounds that I had no idea, till he threw his shirt
off, that he had, like St. Francis, been wounded in 5 places, and
ghastly cuts they look still, although cicatrised. On his shoulder
you might put your fist into the scar. . . .
A remarkable advertisement in this day's " Times "
"A WIDOW WANTS WASHING"
W. B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
Nov. 10, 1858
... I made the Malkins a visit, which, if it were as agree-
able to them, as it was to myself, was a most successful one. I
could not go to Corrybrough indeed like an ordinary man or a
Christian at the proper time August or September, for I was
occupied with consideration of Theatres and by articles for three
Reviews at once, until the 27th of September, when I left home
with a clean slate and conscience. Yet late as it was in the
season, and cold also occasionally, I saw the Highlands under
some of their features proper to the year's decline and favourable
to themselves. The snow was on the mountains for some days
before I left Corrybrough and grim and venerable they looked
under their white coverture. But the sun and bright green, even
spring verdure, were in the valleys, and the juniper and birch,
the larch and fir composed with their mingled summer and
autumn colours a most beautiful picture. Malkin soon found
that I minded neither the water above nor below, but would
wade a stream or breast a shower or a storm with any gilly on
his domains. So we went out every day: he with Campbell
and his gun : I with a staff for as Spedding was not there, I
declined arming myself and during an eight-day visit we went
to every point within ten miles of his house. Of all the scenes
however, that one called the streams most captivated me : it
combined so much delicate beauty with so much grandeur. I
was extremely fortunate in my journey up from Perth to Corry-
brough : the day was beautiful and Killiecrankie could not have
been seen more favourably at any season. I returned by Edin-
230 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
burgh, and saw the glorious panorama from Arthur's seat, and
studied well that superb city, old and new, at least externally.
Next summer if I am permitted, I'll take my girls thither and
show them Loch Katrine and the Trossachs. The weather was
not good enough for excursions after the 7th of October, so
I did not make any deviations on my road homeward. I was
out just a fortnight, and was greatly benefited by the excursion.
There was no company at Corrybrough, and we needed none, as
our evenings were as pleasant to me as the days had been. My
only mischance came from Arthur's over-care of me. He was
scandalised by the thinness of my boots and made me buy a pair
of brogues for better protection, but I never could wear heavy
shoes, and accordingly was lamed for several days by those iron-
shod inventions. . . .
I suppose you have on your side of the water Carlyle's
"Frederick the Great ". It is sold out already here. I have not
read it, but am among the very few who have not. I am no
particular admirer of the historian generally, nor do I care so
much for his present hero, as I did for Cromwell. My ex-
perience of the social qualities of actors coincides very nearly
with your own. I have rarely found them good company, except
in the way of professional anecdotes, which soon pall on the
taste. Bartley was an exception. He was a well-read man, who
had much to say on various matters. But I fancy musicians
are little better : and there seems a common cause for the
general dulness of both out of their respective callings. Their
talents and acquisitive faculties are absorbed by their pursuits
and evolved instead of being drawn inward. Neither is there
much leisure for cultivating any but their professional gifts : for
what with rehearsals and what with performances, an actor in full
work is usually employed eight or ten hours out of the twenty-
four.
9 THE GROVE, BLACKHEATH
NOVEMBER 10, 1858
MRS. FANNY KEMBLE
W. B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
JAN. 10, 1859
. . . We find Blackheath, though almost suburban, at an
inconvenient distance from London, especially as my work does
not, like that of my predecessors, come all home to me, but de-
mands my frequent attendance in London. The Inspector of
Theatres is a very different employe from the Examiner of
Plays, and the necessity of going to Town at least, twice a week,
often thrice or four times, adds considerably to my rent, and
besides that there is the carriage to pay on parcels, which, were
I in town, would be delivered by hand, and many other minutiae
which in the year come to somewhat. Mowbray too now travels
daily to and fro : instead of walking to his office as he would
do if we lived near Manchester or Hyde Park Squares. One
advantage we certainly imperil. Life may be endured at Black-
heath, with Greenwich Park at hand, all the summer. Not so
in London, after August has once set in. Yet my girls hitherto
have always managed to be away even from Blackheath in the
hot months, and so this disadvantage in London may prove
unreal. In other respects they will be gainers, as nearly all Black-
heath society is imported from London, and when they go to
Concerts or Theatres, it is a nuisance to be hurried off, to catch
the 11.5 train. Finally my theatrical business demands an Office,
and though the Lord Chamberlain ought to find me one in St.
James' Palace, he won't or can't, because the Duchess of Cam-
bridge occupies the best rooms in that ancient but inconvenient
building. So you must come to see us here in June, and in
August will, I hope, find us near enough to see us many times.
You will marvel why I lay such stress on my " theatrical busi-
ness," but the fact is the post is converted after the depraved
fashion of the day into a reality, and now if a drunken fellow
fall out of the gallery into the pit, I am taken to account for it.
Assuredly the lines of my predecessors were set in pleasant
places. . . .
A sad gap has been made in the list of my near friends in
Norfolk by the death, suddenly, of Mr. Keppel, of Lexham. He
was one of the finest specimens of an English country gentleman
232 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
I have ever seen, performing all his practical duties on his own
estate faithfully ; an excellent magistrate, a good landlord and a
friend to all his servants and labourers. Withal he was a well-
informed man and had in his humour a spice of FalstafPs vein,
resembling also the fat Knight in his size. I shall not replace,
and shall sorely miss him when I go thitherward. But these
evening shadows come on people turned of fifty : and it is a great
comfort to me to know that you are much younger and stronger
than I am.
9 GROVE, BLACKHEATH
JANUARY IOTH, 1859
W. B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
MARCH 18, 1859
. . . When I mentioned little Harry l as much grown
and nothing more I had seen him for five minutes only at
his dinner at Eaton Place. But your surmise that I could
say nothing more is injurious to the lad. He has since been
to visit us, and he is still the same winning and attractive
child he always was : to-morrow I fetch him to dine with us.
He is well spoken of by both Mr. and Mrs. Smithers, and seems
very happy with them. I think, after my three or four disap-
pointments, that I have placed him luckily at last. His wits are
keen, and it behoves one to be careful what is said in his hearing,
as he treasures it up, and improves indiscretions of speech to his
own uses. This is not the result of my own experience : but I
understand that he managed to set Mr. Harness's Curate and
Mr. and Mrs. Hogg by the ears, by confiding to the Curate's
ears some remarks that were not meant to reach them. He did
this in a very solemn and business-like way going after service
into the vestry, and requesting the minister to walk with him,
whereupon in friendly colloquy he imparted that either Mr. or
Mrs. H. thought him (the Curate) an owl, or something like
it. ...
1 This must be Harry Kemble, the actor, not to be confounded with Henry
Charles Kemble, his first cousin, who was in India. Harry Kemble is the son of
Charles Kemble's youngest son Henry.
MRS. FANNY KEMBLE
Edward FitzGerald left us yesterday ; since he gave up his
lodgings in Gt. Portland St. he has taken a room at the Green-
man, over the way, ;uid given his days to us. He is now gone
on a visit of three or tour days to his " elder," alias " contem-
porary," alias Mrs. E. FG. It so happens that his brother
John's wife resides in the same part of Kent with his (Edward's)
elder, preferring, it seems, the charge of a lunatic to abiding with
her husband ! There is another lady in the same neighbourhood
dwelling under somewhat similar circumstances : in short, our
friend describes the locality " as a kind of park, where elders are
turned out to graze ". Here is a herd for the melancholy Jaques
to moralize on !
9 THE GROVE, BLACKHEATH
MARCH 18, 1859
W. B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
Nov. 20, 1859
I have been going to and fro almost daily to Windsor
Castle, or otherwise employed on errands therewith connected.
For the Queen conveyed to me through Sir Charles Phipps
such an unmistakable hint that I should manage her Theatre
that there was no possibility of drawing back, and so I am
in for a load of most unlooked-for responsibility and care. I
cannot conceive who put it into H.M.'s head. The first per-
formance is on Wednesday next, and we are quite ready for it
already : for I do not ever let the grass grow under my feet, when
I take a thing in hand. My first step was to secure the services of
Kean's late acting-manager, and having done so, and given him
minute instructions, I, in fact, have now little more to do than
to see them carried out. There is to be a great supper to the
performers on Wednesday after the curtain drops, at which I am
expected to preside. I hope I shall not fare like Belshazzar, for
I suspect some of my lords and ladies are not more godly than
were that heathen potentate's. The nearest approach to royalty
I have yet made is an interview with Prince Albert, who was
very courteous and good-natured in his demeanour to me. I
heard this morning at Crabb Robinson's breakfast- table some
234 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
most interesting particulars about that poor Mr. Brown. 1 His
address to the court, read to me out of an American newspaper,
seemed one of the manliest and most touching speeches I ever
met with. I suppose that the Normans in England committed
of yore crimes as deep as those of the Southern slaveholders in
this instance: but they sound grim thus near at hand. . . .
Mr. Kingsley 2 has been treated with great (and most deserved)
distinction by Majesty. He preached at Windsor on Sunday
last, dined of course at the general table : but afterwards was
sent for to the private drawing-room and complimented, right
and left, about his books, the Princess of Prussia told him that
she had read them all over and over again. Kingsley is an
honest man, and this praise won't turn his head the fraction of
an inch. Time has written some furrows of late on his brow. . . .
I have changed my religion, that is to say, I now mostly go
either to the High church in Margaret Street, where they come
as near papistry as they durst, or to the Unitarian Chapel in
Little Portland St. The advantages of the former are in the
afternoon that there is no sermon, and that whoso list, may
leave the Church at any moment ; the recommendation to the
latter that the preachers Martineau 3 and J. J. Tayler are
most admirable, and that the service is a reasonable adaptation
of that of our Common Prayer Book. Martineau is the man of
genius : but I prefer Tayler for his simple earnestness. . . .
40 WEYMOUTH STREET, PORTLAND PLACE
NOVEMBER 20, 1859
W. B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
DEC. 20, 1859
. . . This letter is two posts later than I intended, but
you must pardon a man perplexed in the extreme with changes
of purpose at headquarters, the Queen exercising the full
1 Mr. Brown is John Brown, the fanatic martyr.
3 Rev. Charles Kingsley, 1819-1875, Rector of Eversley, 1844; Lecturer on
English Literature at Queen's College, London, 1848-1849 ; Canon of West-
minster, 1873 ; author of Westward Ho ! (1855), etc.
3 James Martineau, Unitarian divine, 1805-1900. Ordained 1828. Col-
league with John James Tayler (1797-1869), of Little Portland Chapel, London,
1859-
MRS. FANNY KEMBLE 235
privilege of her sex and station in altering her will and pleasure
and with a shower of extravaganzas and pantomimes incident
to this season of the year. I send you two titles of performances,
as you may have American friends liking to see how her Britannic-
Majesty disports herself. Now for such scraps of news as I have.
Mrs. Sartoris was at Eaton Place about ten days since : dined
with and accompanied me to the Olympic. She was looking
remarkably well. She has however a traitorous design against
the comfort of her friends viz., to give up the house in Eaton
Place and to take casual chambers in London ! is it not mon-
strous for the very pleasantest house in London to be closed ?
Not that in my heart I blame her, for could I do so I would
show the Town a clean pair of heels in double-quick time and
go whither rumours of " unsuccessful or successful plays " might
" never reach me more ". But the case is not indentical. Your
sister is a social benefit. I am not : the loss in one case would
touch nobody, in the other affects many persons. Leigh ton l has
just despatched to Paris a most beautiful portrait of a Roman
woman better by far than anything to be seen in the last Ex-
hibition. I go now and then to his Studio, as he assures me
that I am no hindrance to business. This is a great treat to
me to watch the progress of his pictures, to see my old acquaint-
ance among them and to turn over his sketches. Laurence has
made a most successful portrait of Spedding, and seems to have
discovered the secret he has so long been in search of that of
throwing the light on his heads from behind. Whether it be
Leonardo's secret or no, it is a wonderful stride in Laurence's
own power of painting. There is also an excellent portrait in
oils of Aubrey de Vere, and one in crayons of R. M. Milnes
[Lord Houghton]. 2 H. Chorley 3 fell down in the street lately,
not hurting himself; but the crowd which instantaneously
gathers when anything like that befalls, averred, some that he was
drunk, others that he was mad, and as Chorley was seized with
an uncontrollable fit of laughter and also thought good to ad-
1 Sir Frederick Leighton (Baron Leighton of Stretton), 1830-1896, painter.
President of Royal Academy.
2 Lord Houghton. See note i, page 6.
3 Henry Chorley, 1808-1872, critic. Contributed musical criticisms to the
Athenaum, 1838-1868; Memoir on Music, 1841-1862.
236 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
dress the spectators, the two parties went away in the conviction
that their respective theories, either or both, were true. . . .
Your account of American Politics is a very melancholy one.
"O liberty what crimes are done under thy name." It is a
sad fact that the world was never happier than it was under
five despots the five good emperors of Rome. But then they
were good, but there was no security for a continuation of the
breed. Next came Commodus. Here lies the superiority of
turbulent freedom, that it affords a chance of amelioration for
mankind ; could an Augustus be made certain, I would always
choose a Caesar in place of a Senate, a Senate in place of a people.
We have a bad story to tell in England. Every fresh election
brings to light increasing corruption and consequently deteriorates
the character of the House of Commons. If buying and brib-
ing cannot be stayed, in another half century none but very rich
men will be able to secure seats in the Lower House, and the
evils of government by the purse were displayed in the corrup-
tion and fall of the Roman Commonwealth. This dry specula-
tion reminds me of a long conversation I had in the summer of
'57 with John Austin l (the Sarah Austin's husband). He had
been in youth an ultra-democrat, but by much reading and re-
flection had come round to be a high conservative. Not that
Austin was strictly speaking Whig or Tory, but a philosopher
who embraced in his capacious mind all history and law. He
wrote only one book, " The Elements of Jurisprudence," but that
one is unsurpassed in wisdom and concise eloquence. He held
only one Brief, and that, discerning that his cause was unsound,
he threw up and returned the fee ! Now he has ceased to read
and think in this world having quitted it a few days ago one
of the great men whom the world could not recognize, because
he afforded it no opportunity of knowing him. Bread-winning
(and for some years he was very poor) he left to his wife his
brother Charles was made of different stuff' and made in about
fifteen years ! 50,000 by railway. . . .
40 WEYMOUTH STREET, PORTLAND PLACE
DECEMBER 20, 1859
1 John Austin, 1790-1859, Professor of Jurisprudence in London University,
1826. Published The Province of Jurisprudence Determined^ 1832.
MRS. FANNY KEMBLE 237
W. B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
JAN. 20, 1860
40 WEYMOUTH STREET
... I have not heard of your sister for some time. In
her last note she says that she is particularly gratified to dis-
cover that whereas you only tremble for my morals now that
I have become a Manager, she, when we last encountered in
King Street, had serious thoughts of cutting me dead, because
she felt assured that I could no longer be a respectable character.
I may have a chance of recovering from my degradation after
the 31st of this month, and some days before this letter will
reach you, for on that evening, much to my relief, the brief season
will be o'er for this winter at least. You will see by the Bills
enclosed what we have been doing. " The Hunchback " was much
admired before the curtain : behind it, I was saying to myself
Oh dear !
Comparing what I've heard with what I hear.
Julia bow-wowed in most singular fashion. Modus did not know
his part, and being a deaf-mute, could not be prompted. The
only performer good for sixpence was Miss Swanborough who is
very pretty, graceful and lady-like. . . .
My days are pretty well occupied with the Queen's errands.
To-morrow for example I must go early to Chelsea to see Charles
Mathews then to the Lyceum Theatre to arrange with my act-
ing-manager then to Windsor to report progress, and expect by
night time to be pretty well tired. Royalty gives such short
notice that we are driven up into a corner : and when in the
comer, the wind changes, and a new play must be put on. Here
is j udgment on earth for what you account one of my besetting
sins ! I was among the spectators of Lord Macaulay's funeral in
the Abbey. The music was very beautiful and Dean Trench
read the service finely for the most part. The procession was
boggled : the most interesting part of the spectacle was in the
number of literary men who stood by. The grave is between
the tombs of Addison and Campbell. Thackeray, M. Milnes,
Merivale (Roman historian), C. Dickens, Grote, were among the
most notable of those present. . . .
238 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
Laurence is once more with Spedding at 60 Lincoln's Inn
Fields. I believe he means to try his luck during the next
London season, since he was last week looking for a studio and
a lodging. His portraits of Spedding, Aubrey de Vere, M.
Milnes, etc., are now exhibiting at Hogarth's print-shop in the
Haymarket, and have, I am told, attracted a fair amount of
notice. I think there is a great improvement in his colouring
since 1854 ; his likenesses were always admirable. . . .
40 WEYMOUTH STREET, PORTLAND PLACE
JANUARY 21, 60
W. B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
APRIL i, 1860
. . . My theatrical management obtained for me pudding
as well as praise : imprimis, a silver inkstand from H.M. in-
scribed "V. R. to W. B. Donne"; secundo, ^100 for salary;
tertio, direction of the Plays, so long as I am of sound
mind ; and that there will be Plays in future, under ordinary
circumstances, seems likely, since H.M. has charged me to take
council with Mr. Grieve, and build her a new Theatre. Here is
preferment for a simple Justice of the Peace, who moreover is
now a Deputy-Lieutenant of the County of Norfolk, and there-
by entitled to appear at Court in scarlet and silver, and crowned
with a cock's feather a yard long. " Bless thee, Bottom, thou
art translated." . . .
Thackeray's " Cornhill Magazine " is a thriving concern, selling
95,000 numbers per month. Both his story and Trollope's are
very good : but my principal attractions to its orange tawny
cover is the " Natural History" by G. H. Lewes. Annie Thackeray
gave as a reason for her not reading them that " she had been
told that everybody knew as much before," whereupon I answered
that " everybody was much wiser than I gave them credit for ".
. . . E. FG. is still in the easternmost parts of England, com-
panying with boatmen, and carrying in his pocket, to ensure a
welcome, a bottle of rum and rolls of tobacco. So armed, he
spends his evenings under the lee-side of fishing-boats, hearing
and telling yarns. . . .
40 WEYMOUTH STREET, PORTLAND PLACE
APRIL i, 1860
MRS. FANNY KEMBLE 239
40 WEYMOUTH STREET, PORTLAND PLACE
APRIL 23, 1860
. . . Laurence exhibits six pictures this year : two or three
so very good that I hope they will bring grist to his mill.
He has just made an excellent crayon-drawing of Miss Malkin l
who is very like the portraits of Lorenzo de' Medici. Are
your American newspapers as full as our English ones of the
brutal fight between Heenan and Sayers? 2 I rather rejoice in
the savagery, as it may lead to extinction of the " noble science ".
One only matter the papers have omitted which inserted might
have done some good the names of the noblemen, M.P.'s,
poets, orators, and clergymen who are said to have been among
the spectators ! What a miracle and a rarity is perfect health.
Sayers, though fearfully punished, appeared two days after the
fight in public with scarcely a vestige of his pounding, except
his arm in a sling. Perhaps such was the normal state of Adam.
Noah doubtless was less healthy since he discovered wine and
wine, tea, and eatables generally, mar nature's intentions sorely.
I am in the mood for such reflections : for my stomach has been
very troublesome : and now I am my own master I intend to try
what starving the brute will do towards making him behave
better.
We have had and still have the most villainous weather.
N.E. wind with cold rain and fog for variety. No amount of
any one of these evils seems to diminish the store for the future.
Yet I suppose that London is preferable to country for it is very
full. The streets swarm with volunteer uniforms. The fear of
invasion has done this good that Mowbray's chest is already
expanded by drilling. He looks very well in uniform ; drab and
silver ornaments.
Tom Taylor 3 is one of the Captains of the Civil Service
Corps. Nearly 200 men are enrolled, not counting those who,
like myself, pay money for our defence. Meanwhile, Napoleon
1 Miss Malkin died December, 1903.
2 Tom Sayers, pugilist, 1826-1865, won the champion's belt, 1857. His last
fight was with the American, John C. Heenan (the Benicia Boy), at Farnborough,
1860, the result being declared a draw.
3 Tom Taylor, 1817-1880, dramatist and editor of Punch, 1874-1880; Fellow
of Trinity College, Cambridge, 1842 ; Professor of English Language and
Literature at- London University, 1845. Author of several successful plays.
240 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
invades the sinews of war by causing us to pay lOd. in the pound
for income tax. I think he will arouse the jealousy of the
Germans before the year is over, if he is not a little less aggres-
sive on the side of Switzerland ; but even then I don't see that
we need interfere.
APRIL 23, SHAKESPEARE'S BIRTHDAY
W. B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
JUNE 10, 1860
... I fancy my neighbours in Wey mouth Street look on
me as some exalted personage twice, if not thrice, within
a few weeks an unmounted dragoon has brought me letters
from Buckingham Palace, and though either be clad in scarlet,
the inhabitants don't mistake the soldier for the general post-
man. Then, again, my Deputy Lieutenant's uniform is just
such as was worn by the famous Marquis of Granby, or William,
the butcher, Duke of Cumberland : and as I have twice issued
in that terrible garb from my door, the marvel is increased.
They have made Kingsley Professor of Modern History at
Cambridge in place of Sir James Stephen : the University is not
much pleased : a man of genius disturbs its repose. Kingsley,
however, has well earned the place, and will, I doubt not, make
an admirable lecturer. His brother-in-law Froude has just lost
his wife a heavy loss to him. She died on the very day that
his last volumes on Edward and Mary were born to the world.
His household is to be broken up his children have fortunately
some excellent female relatives to care for them, and Froude
himself will settle in or near London. . . .
The Academy this year is generally thought very good : in
the portrait department particularly. Laurence exhibits two
portraits, J. Spedding and Aubrey de Vere, both admirable.
He was much annoyed by the Hanging Committee retaining
these two out of six sent by him. But he fared no worse than
many other artists, as R. Lane told me beforehand that the
Hanging Committee had determined to have a space above and
a, space below the pictures for the future, and consequently had
MRS. FANNY KEMBLE 241
to send back an unusual number. Their having done so may
have mortified many, but it has greatly improved the effect of
the Exhibition generally. Leighton has only one picture this
year, a brown Italian scene, just enough to keep his name on the
List of Exhibitors, and by no means the best work from his
atelier. F. Barwell has got much honour from a sea-piece, and
aspiring, I suppose, to more, has been causing me to sit to him
in the character of an M.D. coming out of a sick-chamber. . . .
I did not write the paper on Collier in the " Saturday Review,"
nor, except a notice of Theodore Martin's "Horace," have I written
anything for that journal for many months. Younger men deal
better with contemporary literature: and jumping from book
to book, as weekly reviewers must, is a practice most uncongenial
to my taste and habits. I read principally now what most folks
have long since forgotten and find my account in it. I have
however so far kept pace with the times as to have read the
" Mill on the Floss " one of the most melancholy and powerful
books of any day. I hope you have not abandoned the inten-
tion of beginning again to write when you ceased to read. We
want a Tragedy or two sorely, and some more Lyrics would be
very acceptable. I have just been to St. James no message
except kindest love. Mr. C. Greville was there, looking well
and very complacent at the result of the recent sale of his year-
ling thoroughbreds ^3,500 for some score or 25 colts. . . .
40 WEYMOUTH ST., PORTLAND PLACE, W.
JUNE 10, 1860
W. B. Donne to Mrs. Fanny Kemble
AUG. 9, 1860
. . . Laurence has been very unwell of late and looks
very sad : he was to have been my companion here, but a
sitter intervened and he thought it undutiful to come. Sped-
ding is also a defaulter, being busy in curing Bacon : so your
sister for the nonce is specially unlucky, as she has lost them
and got me. Meanwhile she is at this moment talking to the
two Miss Bultihls, and they are describing the various modes
in which their friends paint themselves, some, it appears, put
16
242 W. B. DONNE AND HIS FRIENDS
a sort of mahogany graining on, 
