TO MRS. HAMILTON.
‘Nov. 6, 1861.
‘Will you kindly tell my Letitia that I have put up her paint-box, to be sent to Somerset House, as I dare say that your dear husband will kindly take charge of the little parcel....
‘The weather here has not been very choice. We had candles at luncheon yesterday. We make ourselves very happy, however, by vigorous reading. In the evening we discourse with Queen Elizabeth, Leicester, Paul Buys, and Olden Barneveldt, etc.; in the morning we go out hunting with M. Chaillu, plunging amongst hippopotami and crocodiles, demolishing big black serpents, or perhaps capturing a baby-gorilla, more troublesome than dear Edgy himself.
‘We are all just now in a state of indignation about your pork! Don’t suppose that it is any fault in the pork; on the contrary, it is acknowledged to be the most “refined” pork ever known; and Mother says that if she shut her eyes, she would not know that she was not eating chicken!! We had a beautiful roast of it one day at luncheon; and Mother cut off a choice bit, to be reserved for our table, cold, while the servants were indulged with the rest of that joint. To-day Mother asked for our reserved bit. Would you believe it?—those dreadfully greedy servants had eaten our bit as well as their own, though they had legs of mutton on Friday and Saturday, and a 22 lb. joint of roastbeef on Sunday! Do you marvel at our indignation? Mother means to call some one to account. She puts all the pathos of the question upon me. Miss Charlotte to be disappointed of her reserved bit of pork! I can hardly keep my countenance, but of course must not disclaim my interest in the question. These greedy servants must be kept in order. It is not for nothing that we read of valiant encounters with alligators and hippopotami.’
TO MRS. HAMILTON.
‘Dec. 3, 1862.
‘Dearest Laura,—We at last opened our piano, and your song has been thoroughly examined. The result is that some parts are much liked. Clara was so much pleased with the verse about the Rose, that after singing it over for Mother’s benefit she sang it three times over for her own. The words are not worthy of the music; it ought to be sacred; and I intend to copy it out in my own little music-book as a hymn, so that its interest will not die away with that of the bridal.[8] The part next best liked is the Shamrock verse; and if I might venture a suggestion, I think that the whole of the “We hail thee” might be set to it; only the “glittering” accompaniment must be confined to the Shamrock verse. I think people often like the repetition of one air over and over, far better than a great variety.
The air is flowing and attractive, and there is no harm in its brevity. The first part, “We hail thee,” has a transition, which we fear that the rules of thorough-bass might not permit; and the Thistle is hardly equal to either the Shamrock or the Rose,—of which, you see, I would make a separate song and hymn. If you would write out the song to the music of the former, I do not see why we should not try to get it accepted by a publisher. I hope that you will excuse my thus venturing to criticise your song and so unmercifully to cut it short.
‘I will give on the next page the words which I propose putting—for my own use—to the hymn part. Very little alteration will make them go very well to the air, for I have tried them; and the repetition of the last words, which your sweet music requires, suits lines the whole emphasis of which falls on the closing words; at least I fancy so.’