Edward Lear's Diaries

7.35 to 8.30 walked on downs. Gray day. ― speculations on future ― here, London, or where?

Breakfast ― & began to colour the last Mt. Athos views. Meanwhile ― the wind riz & the waves [bloo].

Ahi! it is well to sham laughing ― but I feel as if I could laugh no more ― really. Those last hours of dearest Ann, & the sight of her dead, are great & dreadful realities ― but the knowledge that I am so alone & can appeal to her no more, is far worse ― & ever increasing.

Many letters: from Ellen, Miss Morier, Mrs. [] Robinson, Mrs. Davidson, ― &c. MISS HORNBY IS DEAD. ―

Grew weary of drawing ― & of watching the sea.

At 10 to AT’s & talked with ET ― & tried to walk in the garden ― but the wind was too horrid.

Came back, & drew again: then it rained, & blew furiously. ― Mrs. Murrow ― (who never was in London before last June ―) did her best to “console my mind” ― as she said: telling me of the Q.’s visit here & of the Princess Helēēna &c. ― who made a picnic in her upper room. “Would you believe it Sir, those Princes & Princesses spoke common just like my own children! I could not have believed it Sir!” ―――

Played on Mrs. Frankland’s Piano: ― & at 6.30 dined alone. ― Mr. F. came in afterwards ―: really a nice fellow. ―

Sate & played & sang with him till 10.30.

[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3.]

Windy ― cold ― but no rain. Left Lymington at 8 ― & 8.15 steam to Yarmouth ― by 8.45. ― Passage rough. Fly to lower Hotel at Freshwater ― Royal Albion ― Murrow’s. ― Then went to Farringford & had a long talk with dear good E.T. ― afterwards walked ― or pottered with Alfred. (The paragraph in the Court Journal it seems, did relate to C. & Anne Weld.)

In the afternoon, arranged things at the Hotel ― & went back to dinner. Dakyns the Tutor. At 10.30 we all A.T. & he walked together to the Hotel with me. Moonlight.

[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3.]

X

Rose at 7: perfectly bright: ― from 7.45 to 8.15 walked ― attended by the queer little Scotch dog ― to Mr. Lyles ― & looked at the old Cedars.

Breakfast & came away in the omnibus at 9.15.

From Waterloo, cab to Mr. Lawrence’s ― where I paid £5.5.0 for his fees of 2 visits, & for the man who was to give dearest Ann Chloroform.

What a happiness is it that the operation was given up!

― At Stratford Pl. found many letters. ― Wrote, & packed, & sent Thomas to Drummond’s with Mr. Edwards’ 103£. At 2 came to Waterloo Station, ― & at 3 ― rail, by 6, to Lymington.

But, δὲν εἶναι ἀτμούπλεον¹ ― so I wait here till tomorrow.

Abode at the Angel Inn ― dreary & dumb. 40 people in the Coffee-room ― so I dined alone in a large room with a piano. Cold & sad.

[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3.]

1. There is no steamboat (NB). [↩]

1 Harvey Bagot
2 Sir R. Bethell
3 Lady Bethell
4 Mrs. Blencowe
5 Mrs. Bright
6 H. Cheales
7 Church C.
8 Clowes S.
9 Crake E.
10 Cross J.
11 Mrs. Davidson
12 Miss Dennett
13 Mr. Edwards
14 J. Edwards
15 Mrs. Evans
16 Lady Farquhar
17 R. Fowler
18 Mrs. Francillon
19 Mrs. Frith
20 Lady Goldsmid
21 J. Gould
22 Mrs. Gray
23 Dr. Hodgkinson
24 Mrs. E.C. Holmes
25 Maria Hornby
26 James Hornby
27 Mrs. Hornby
28 [Laura] Hornby
29 Holman Hunt
30 Paul Hunt
31 Mrs. G. Howard
32 Mrs. Ingleby
33 Jameson
34 Mrs. Leake
35 Miss Morier
36 L. Penrhyn
37 Mrs. Percy
38 W. & J. Raleigh
39 Lady Reid
40 Mrs. Robinson
41 Mrs. G. Scrivens
42 Lady Simeon
43 Mr. Thornton
44 F. Thrupp
45 S.F. Widdrington
46 E. Woodthorpe
47 C. Wynne
48 G. Kokali
49 ― Boyd

a bitter, dark, cold, windy, pouring day. ― horrible & sad.

Wrote all day: in all 49 letters.

I don’t know how my eyes bore it, but they didd [sic].

Dreary ― dreamy. ―

Dined in the cold wide room, & to bed, after again writing no end of letters ― at 10.

What an awful day!

[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3.]

X

Unwell: weary: ― most miserable.

Packed, so as to come away to Oatlands to day. ―

The black coach came before 10: & took me to Stonefield St. Fredk Street was there: I was much pleased with his coming, & with him personally. Then Mr. Rose the Doctor. At 11 we went away. It rained. At 12 we were at Highgate ― (the 3^rd time I am there to bury others.) All the ceremony did not disturb me as I had fancied it might, because I have thought & wept so much for 10 days past, & my grief is so founded & deep that outward signs make little impression. But all things were nicely & well done: & the service read well. This is an act ― to us who remain. She who is gone, is far beyond all human suffering. ―

Well. ―

With her I lose, or seem to lose, ―all. Might her example & memory but improve me!

I took leave of poor Ellen & Sarah & F.S. at 1.30, & came to Stratford Place. It cannot be again to me what it was. ― So at 3.15 I came to Waterloo Station, & at 5 was at Oatlands Hotel.

All things had suffered change ― yet were the same.

O O O O dreamy cold life hereafter! ―

All the evening, arranged letters. ―

Very bad cold in head & eyes.

[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3.]

Rose at 7. Dickenson’s men came, & placed the Cedars across the room. I cleared the front room for cleaning ― & then packed & arranged for 3 weeks going out. Letters from Mrs. Empson ― (or rather Marion Palmer,) say I am not to come there: & C. Church’s would not fit, ― full of marriage ceremonies: ― & Sir J. Reid is away. ― So I must give up the west at present, & go to the I. of Wight I think.

At 3 I went to Stonefield St. ― & sate with Ellen & Sarah. ― With Sarah I walked to her old Albian St. house ― & [about] the roads, here & there: ― she has done well for all: & I still hope will go out to N.Z. with S. & F.S. & his family. ―

I walked partly back: ― & was at home by 6.

Godson Coombe came, & we dined together. ―

Percy Coombe is most kindly & modest, ― & ― as far as his natural ability, & his education allow, intelligent, & attractive. ― I am very glad he is tied to me.

O! ai! αὒριον!¹

τὸ αὒριον τὸ μαύρον τὸ ἂσχημον!

τὸ τέλος τῶν ἂλλων!

ἐτελιώθη ὃλα²

Dear good Mrs. Greville Howard sent to ask after me to night.

[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3.]

1. Tomorrow (NB). [↩]
2. Dark and ugly tomorrow! / the end of the others! / all is over (NB). [↩]

I wake & then ――――――――――――

But ― I rise, & at 9.30 to Henderson’s, & with him, (he is really nice man,) to Stonefield St. ― & thence, leaving Ellen to bring things into the front room, ― I, Mr. H. & Sarah, went to Highgate.

There we chose a place for the outward husk or shell of what was dearest Ann.

Afterwards, Sarah & I walked back: all thro’ Holloway & Islington ― & a cab at last to 20. Stonefield St. by 12.

Sarah’s calmness is not wonderful ˇ[to] me, ὁ ὁποῖος ἑταξίδευσα.¹

B. Hunt was there, who as Executor, read the will &c. &c. ― & went away at 1.30. Then, S.G. & I looked over all dear Ann’s things. The amount of thought & care for others is not credible ― would not be at least to those who did not know her: everything was labelled & ticketed.

Poor Ellen’s smallness selfishness? was a vexation ― but we managed to [stave] it off. Sarah was very unselfish & kindly.

At 3 I came away ― worn & half dead. ― For all my life ― early & late, that beautiful Ann has preserved the best of ― with a trust & affection it is impossible to describe. There are drawings from my 5^th year!! ― & letters & likenesses ever since! ― And what out=extra charity! (as is proved by receipts.) Verily ― I have lost all I had. Yet I may gain ― yes I do gain. ― Percy Coombe came & dined with me: a kindly & good lad ― & very nice in every way. ― Ahi! Ahi! ―

X

[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3.]

1. Who travelled (NB). [↩]

Bitterly cold ―. Came from these kind people at 9.15, in town by 11.

Went to the Undertakers, then up to Stonefield St.

Sarah was there; she had missed the train & did not come till 5.

She & I & Ellen sate together: the last three of all of us now in England.

After seeing dearest Ann’s will ― I came back to Stratford Pl. & wrote more letters.

I cannot see her again: nor would I now ― for she is no longer the darling I knew ― who is far far above. ―

At 7 ― opposite, to the kind Beadons. ― only they two, a little Elizabeth. Poor W.F.B. is much more unwell, & went away soon. I came away at 10.

Kind letter from Mrs. Cockerell, Mrs. Bruce, Mrs. Clive & many more. ―

[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3.]

Up at 9 ― writing all the morning ―sitting with good kind Jane Hunt ― & Hellen Carter.

Wrote all day. 24 letters.

Did not go out.

Very cold & windy.

Dinner & evening.

[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3.]

Ah me! ahi! By 9.30 I was at the Doctor’s. Lawrence was to come at 12 ― (I wrote from Sarah last night, & engaged a nurse.) to perform the operation for the Hernia wh. alone can save her life.

The dear darling was in bed now. ― Ah! she will not rise again! ― She said, I am easier, dear! ― less pain! ― “Perhaps Sarah may come” &c. ― “You darling! she often said to me ―pressing my hand ― with that wonderful smile! ― But as she would talk & such talking renewed the sickness ― I dared not stay. I went to W. Nevills ― Willie & Ralph there. ― Willie is a vexation. At 5, he walked to S. Newington with me ― & I talked a good deal to him. ― Then to the Doctors. After I left, something had passed [thro] dear suffering Ann ― & Rose went off to Lawrence, & the[y] agreed to postpone the operation ― or rather ― that it was too late now to hope for good from it. (She, poor dear, had quite agreed to it ― & to take Chloroform.) ― on going to Stonefeld Street, I found her weaker ― weaker. ― Rose says she is sinking.

Oh ― Oh ― ――― So I cabbed back, & again returned, to stay till the end.

The sickness continued: the weakness increased. ― The nurse & Mrs. Woolleth are kind & good. The dearest Ann never [murmurs]: thanks us for all we do: ― always thinks of us! ― ”Go to bed Ellen dear! you are tired!” ― “Nurse have you had your supper?” ―”Edward my precious ―take care you do not hurt your head against the bed iron.” ― At 11 Ellen went to bed. The Doctor came again, & I walked outside ― he says ― her pulse is going: yet she may last all through tomorrow. It seems a dream to me. Again I went in ― & held the basin & smothered her hair each time hour after hour: each time she grew weaker ― but each time suffered less. “Edward! my dearest precious! why are you here so late?” ― “O I would not leave you dear ― said I ― so ill.[”] ― “Darling creature![”] she said ― & then that smile! ― 12 oclock came ― breathing shorter ―feebler.

11 March 1861

1 o’clock. Very little change. Sickness every 20 minutes or oftener ― but little now beyond expectoration. Gruel, & brandy & water constantly. “To be sure ― we do as we are told” she said, on being urged to be lift[ed] up. “A great attack on me with a glass of brandy & water ― & you, you darling! join in it!!” ―Take this & it may refresh you: “Perhaps” she said. “All is good: all is right.” She spoke now very seldom. Once on taking the orange [rips] from her mouth, she said ― Oranges ― a great blessing. ― About 2 or 3 ― I was doing so again ― she said ― “Edward! dear creature[”] ― this was perhaps at half past three ― & the last time she spoke to me. Oh!

Once she said ― “a roasted apple.” & when I said bye & bye perhaps dear ― she said ― “darling” ― but she then seemed to cease to suffer or think [much].

(Earlier she had said nurse ―! “I am looking at you ma’am! Said nurse. ― “A beautiful sight truly!” said dearest Ann. And once, putting her curls asaide she said ― “one vigorous push will do! ― Dress is important at this time!” & almost laughed. ― Once she said. It is growing dark, & I saw her sight was going. It was nearly more than I could bear, but I resolved to hold out. ―― At 4 came a change. The sickness ceased. The breathing more troublesome. She could take no more nourishment. She seemed about to go.. ― At 5, she became restless: more & more so. Then the nurse said ― “Sir: you had better go. Convulsions are, I think coming on ―& they may last some hours. I think she will live to the middle of the day. ― At first I thought she would go off quietly, but now I do not.. Call Mrs. Woolett if you please.” ― I did so. And at 6.30 I went to Stratford Place & lay down: took some breakfast, & by 10 was there again. Still she lived ― but now she took no notice, nor suffered: but lay with closed eyes. Sarah had written, & should come by 12! ― We were to be quite quiet, as she heard: & we now hope that the sickness may not return, & that no convulsions may ensue. So I walked to Highbury at 11 ― & came back by 12. Still she breatherd, but very feebly: ― I could not go in again: it seemed so strange & a tearing & grinding my own heart: yet I would have done so, could I have done good. But I said ― I will walk outside ― & you, Mrs. Woollett, put down the blinds when all is over. At 12.15 they were closed!

Had I believed she would have died so, I would have sate still by her dear side: but I found it would have been terrible. Whereas, God be thanked for such a mercy ― she died as a little infant falls asleep! Painless ― motionless!

As her life has been one of good & blessing ― so is her death.

But she is gone. And I have now no sister Ann to love me & think of me.

I gave orders ― & comforted Ellen: poor Sarah is not yet come. ― then I saw the dear dear dear form of her whose voice I can hear no more! O! that marble cold lovely face!! ――――

I came away at 2. Ordered the funeral on my way to Stratford Place. Packed, & by 4 was on the way to Lewes. The good kind Hunts made me welcome & comforted me. How thankful I ought to be that she died as she did!! ――――

[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3.]