“30 March, 1795.
“My Dear Sir,
“I am sorry to find Heath still procrastinates. He was to have begun on the ‘Dead Soldier’ in good earnest last Midsummer. Another is approaching fast, & nothing more done to it. I despair seeing it finished, & many of the subscribers to my portion of the prints are dead. Well, patience, as the Italians say, & you have as much need of it as I.
“The very severe winter we have had has almost demolished me. Just after Xmas I paid a visit to my friend Gisborne. It was a young trick of me to sally forth at that time of the year, but he tempted me with sending his carriage; and wrapping myself up in Flannels, I thought myself invulnerable. Unfortunately for me it proved otherwise. I have been dreadfully ill ever since. I am now wounded at so many points. I despair of ever being well again. I have had Darwin’s advice, and about a fortnight ago he ordered me to have a hot bath every night, from 94 to 96 degrees of heat, in which I stay half-an-hour. It has certainly braced me, & removed some disagreeable sensations, but I am still too much oppressed to think of handling the pencil, & what is worse I feel not ye least inclination to paint. I am glad to hear my friend Tate succeeds so well in water colors. I dare say when the application of them is well understood, it is pleasant work. Make my best regards to him, to Mr. Philips, and to all my friends, and believe me with much esteem yours most truly,
“JOSH WRIGHT.”
“May 29 /95.
“I wish for my own sake—as well as for your feelings—for I know you participate in the good or ill which attends your friends that I could give a better account of myself. I have now been five months without exercising my pencil, and without a hope that I shall again resume it. I seem to have outlived my art, a reflection, tho’ in no way favourable to the restoration of my health, will continually obtrude itself upon me.
“I am glad to hear my good friend has laid hold of his brushes again. Paper and camel hair pencils are better adapted to the amusement of ladies than the pursuit of an artist. Give my love to him, & tell him he should not avail himself of my long silence, the effect only of ill-health. I wish to hear from him.
“I understand by your relation yt you have built a steam house, which is productive beyond credit, & that you are over-run with cucumbers. If this is really the case, pray let 2 or 3 run over to Derby. Am not I very impudent?”
“Derby Oct 2nd 1795.
“My Dear Sir,
“I take up my pen with much pleasure to communicate to my dear friends at Manchester, ‘who participate in my welfare,’ that a few days ago, after a truce to my pencil for ten dreadful months, I felt the dawn of inclination to resume it, and on Friday last made, with trembling hands, some feeble efforts. Disuse and the loss of much strength has made the employment rather vexatious, but facility will come in proportion to my practice.
“I thought I should never have had it in my power to finish the pictures your relative engaged, but they are now within a few hours of being compleated.
“The picture of the little elegant bit of scenery at Rydall, which my friend Holland mentioned to you, is not near being finished. The water indeed is further advanced than ye rest of ye picture, for I was keen to produce an effect which I had never seen in painting of shewing the pebbles at the bottom of the water with the broken reflections on its surface. But I have not succeeded to my wish, & Holland, who sees all my works thro’ the most partial medium, has colored his description too highly. So highly finished is that little bit of nature that to do it justice it should be painted upon ye spot.
“Your account of the Isle of Man makes me wish to see it. We often see fine shaped rocks than fine coloured ones; the patches of different colours are not large and distinct enough to have effect at a distance. The different hues are produced by small mosses rather than by original colours in the stones.
“JOSH WRIGHT.”
“Derby, Dec 18th 1795.
“My Dear Sir,
“I am at all times very happy to hear from you, and if at any time there is the appearance of omission, the multiplicity of your avocations make your apology.
“I have had too many substantial proofs of your attention to my interest to doubt ye sincerity of your friendship to me. I should be highly to blame, without cause, to deprive myself of so inestimable a blessing.
“I have put the last touches to your little finished bit of scenery of ‘Rydal Waterfall,’ which you have commissioned me to send you, which I will do as soon as it is dry enough to pack safely; but, that you may not take it upon the character of my friends, who, as I said before are partial and sanguine, you shall, if it meets not with your entire approbation, have the power of returning it. Your feelings upon the occasion may be different to theirs, and I would not have you buy a pig in a poke. It is a very intricate subject, and I never wished myself out of a wood so much in my life.
“I shall continue to work a little almost every day, & if the spasms upon my lungs keep off I hope to gain strength. I cannot describe the pleasure I feel upon resuming the pencil when I am tolerably well.
“JOSH WRIGHT.”
“I have sent off to Nottingham your kinsman’s pictures, where they are to remain sometime ’ere they are to be sent to America.”
“Derby, 11 Apl., 1796.
“Ill-luck ever attends my pursuits. A few days after you left me, I was again visited with an asthmatic fit, which was in a day or two succeeded by a second, whereby I was so debilitated I could not employ my pencil at all for many days, & have not since found my exertions equal to the great picture; have therefore given up all thoughts of exhibiting it this year at least, whatever I may be induced another, but, from abuses I have received from the Academy, I never feel very anxious to get among them. They are in general an illiberal set of men, & the less one has to do with ’em the better.
“JOS WRIGHT.”