Since 2006, the University of Nebraska Press has worked to publish The Complete Letters of Henry James, an acclaimed series that fills a crucial gap in modern literary studies by presenting in a scholarly edition the complete letters of one of the great novelists and letter writers of the English language. Comprising more than ten thousand letters reflecting on a remarkably wide range of topics—from James’s own life and literary projects to broader questions on art, literature, and criticism—these editions are an indispensable resource for students of James and of American and English literature, culture, and criticism.
Were Mr. James around today, we think he would be delighted to contribute to the UNP blog. Today we’re sharing one of his many letters, written on January 7, 1889.
From the Desk of Henry James
The following is an excerpt from The Complete Letters of Henry James (1888–1891) Vol. 1 by Henry James, edited by Michael Anesko, Greg W. Zacharias, and Katie Sommer (Nebraska, 2023).
– – – –
CATHARINE WALSH [i]
7 January [1889]
ALS Houghton
bMS Am 1094 (1338)
Regent Hotel.
Leamington. Jan. 7th
Beloved Aunt.
It is a long time since I wrote to you [ii]—much too long for affections sake. I think it was ^when[^] I was in Geneva, in October—& as I remained abroad many ^several[^] weeks after that it seems even longer g̸ ago [1] than it is. And since then I have had two most welcome & benevolent notes from you. I came home on the Xmas eve, went out of town immediately to pay a short visit & then came down here (after an interval of three or four days) to spend a week near Alice [iii]. That was really what I was waiting for, to write you again—I wanted to have seen her & to be able to give you a personal impression of her. This impression is not quite so good as it would be if she had not been rather unwell for the 1st day or two of my stay; but it is nevertheless very good. She is about as usual again now, & her “usual” is visibly, little by little, a much better thing. She is ^essentially[^] stronger, heartier, more exempt from aches, drawbacks, accidents &c, than she was even when I saw her last (before this;) that is, in the 1st days in October. It is when she is less well rather than when she is more so that one notices particularly her general improvement—for one then sees how much better she bears three or four bad days when they do come, how much less they pull her down, & how much quicker she rises out of them. I have not seen her for so long that we have had plenty to talk about, & I have been very glad to be free, owing to an absence of engagements in town at this quiet season (every one in London bolts away, as you know, for Xmas. & the New Year,) to remain near her & talk at our leisure. It is supposed to be extraordinarily cold (that is, there is ice—not thick enough to skate on!) but Alice has ended by making for herself a very cosy & ◇ comfortable [2] interior, with a good many little appliances, properties & luxuries of her own. Her picturesque attendant [iv] has developed, very much, in wisdom, wit & general virtue & efficiency; her genius comes out in direct proportion as it is required, and her attachment to Alice is of the most unshakeable sort. The good young woman & her mother [v] who keep the house are also in a state of adoration of her, as ^and[^] they live in the hope, I think, of keeping her as long as they keep lodgings; which they will do till the decent old mother dies & the daughter marries a commercial traveller to whom she has been long engaged. It may interest you to know that Alice does a great deal of “good” in Leamington—by distributing small bounties among the queer ^British[^] types of the “humble” who abound here & with whom, from her sofa, she is, with her nurse’s aid, in benevolent relation a̸ to [3] a degree that would surprise you. Nurse goes among them & serves as ministrant & Alice knows everything about them, feeds the hungry &c, without ever seeing them. These little relations have multiplied so that they form quite a local ◇ interest [4] for her, & feed her conversation, which grows daily in vigour, richly with anecdote. I expect to return to London on the 9th or the 10th; & shall be very glad to be quiet there again & indulge in that continuity of sojourn which ministers most to work & to thrift. But I enjoyed my weeks abroad & I am happy to say did, while they lasted, all the work I had taken away with me. When I left London on October 13th I had not made an absence for 14 [^]14[^] months, & had been, especially, almost every blessed moment of the summer in town. So I feel refreshed & refurnished. I spent three weeks in Paris the last thing before coming home, had perfect weather & liked the place more than I thought it was in me ever to care for it again. But I’m glad I don’t live there—the best way to like it is to live in London & see it when one can. In your last letter to me, dearest Aunt, you said someth ^a word[^] about your beginning to feel something of the infirmity of age—a note which it touches me more than I can say to hear you strike. I hope that if you do feel the hand of time it isn’t when ^with[^] any heaviness that is really hard to bear. How much I wish I were near you to do my little part in helping you to bear it. Others, who are near you, do help you, I know—but this doesn’t console me for not seeing you as the years go by. If I were free to leave Alice, I should come home very soon for the express purpose of seeing my dearest old aunt. But the ocean shouldn’t be put between me & her, until some such time as Katherine L. is with her again. When Katherine does come back I will come home to see you. Meanwhile I will write to you soon again. I hope your winter is peaceful & blizzardless. Won’t you send this to William? Ever beloved Aunt your affectionate old nevvy Henry James [5]
– – – –
Symbol Notes:
[1] g̸ ago • [a overwrites blotted g]
[2] ◇ comfortable • [c overwrites illegible letter]
[3] a̸ to • [to overwrites a]
[4] ◇ interest • [i overwrites illegible letter]
[5] & blizzardless. [. . .] Henry James • [written across the letter’s first page]
[^] at the end of a phrase indicates the end of material inserted interlineally; at the beginning of a phrase it indicates the beginning of material inserted interlineally when James did not write a caret.
– – – –
[i] Catharine Walsh • Walsh (AK) (1812–89) was HJ’s mother’s sister. She remained a constant, and usually present member of the James family until her death. She lived and traveled with the James family and became almost a second mother to the James children. Catharine Walsh is usually described as having been much more outgoing and opinionated than her quieter sister. In 1853 she married Capt. Charles H. Marshall, but the union lasted for only twenty eight months. She died after a fall in her home in March 1889.
[ii] since I wrote to you [. . .] in Geneva, in October • The last extant letter from HJ to AK is from 30 September 1888, written from De Vere Gardens. HJ was in Geneva from about 12 October 1888 until the end of the month.
[iii] Alice • AJ.
[iv] Her picturesque attendant • Emily Ann Bradfield, AJ’s long-term nurse.
[v] woman & her mother • AJ’s landlady, Matilda Clarke
