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Leigh Hunt letter to Marianne Kent Hunt, ca. 1803

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              My dearest Marian, 
I am very uncomfortable; I get up at five in the morning, say a word to nobody, curse my stars till eleven at night, and then creep into bed to curse my stars for tomorrow; and all this, because I love a little black eyed girl of fifteen, whom nobody knows, with my whole heart and soul! Take notice, that if you do not send me a very long/er/ letter to morrow, (it may be as sober and you may talk with as little violence as Mrs. H[unter] pleases) I'll be very happy all the rest of the week; and when I do receive one at last, I shall say to the servant looking at the letter sideways;—"Oh, a letter from Brighton; here, lay it down on the table, I am going out to dinner in a great hurry, so I can read it when I return at night."—  There's a true lover's malice for you.—  You think I was offended last Friday evening, you assured me of your affection, you begged pardon of one, who when he utters an unkind word to you, is putting a thousand daggers to his own breast; but /but/ you know I was never seriously or beyond a moment offended with you, nor was I then;—'tis true, I stayed but a minute with you when you sent for me, and persisted in leaving the room even when you entreated me to stop: I did not so much as look at you; but it was because I knew, that if I trusted myself with a single glance at the face I doated on, I should have folded you to my bosom, and begged that pardon

 
which I thought I ought not to beg: for you must confess, that if you did leave me, when you came down, /because/ for the reason you assigned, yet you might have come down sometime before a quarter to nine, considering I /shou/ was not to see you for a week.—  However, you are a dear-affectionate girl; though you must not suppose, I love you a bit the better for being fifty miles out of my reach; that is, out of my reach in the day time: for you must know that I travel at a pretty tolerable pace every night, and have held many a happy chat with you about twelve or one o'clock at midnight though you may have forgotten it by this time; /as the/  
Oft by yon sad and solitary stream 
Sweet visions gild the youthful poet's dream;  
Calm as he slumbers in the roseate shade,  
Unvarying Fancy clasps his absent maid,  
Hangs on each charm that captivates the heart,  
The smile, the glance too eloquent for art,

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Title	Leigh Hunt letter to Marianne Kent Hunt, ca. 1803
Creator	Hunt, Leigh, 1784-1859
Date Original	1803
Description	Concerning his affection for her; the actor Harry Elliston; a play he recently attended.
Personal Name Subject	Hunt, Leigh, 1784-1859 Hunt, Marianne Kent, 1788-1857
Chronological Subject	1800-1810
Type (DCMIType)	Text
Type (AAT)	Correspondence
Type (IMT)	jpeg
Digital Collection	Leigh Hunt Letters
Contributing Institution	University of Iowa. Libraries. Special Collections Dept.
Archival Collection	Brewer-Leigh Hunt Collection
Collection Guide	http://www.lib.uiowa.edu/spec-coll/resources/Brewer-LeighHunt.html
Location	bound MsL H94hum leaf 6 (one of 14 letters in MsL H94hum)
Rights Management	Educational use only, no other permissions given. This letter is owned by The University of Iowa Libraries Special Collections Department, and is provided here for educational purposes. It may not be reproduced or distributed in any format without written permission of the Special Collections Department.
Contact Information	Contact the University of Iowa Libraries Special Collections Department: lib-spec@uiowa.edu
Height (cm)	32
Width (cm)	20
Number of Pages	4
Digitization Specifications	Scanned with Ricoh Aficio 2335 scanner at 600 ppi, 24-bit color. Archival tiff image available.
Date Digital	2006-11-30
Transcript	[London August 1, 1803][1] My dearest Marian , I am very uncomfortable; I get up at five in the morning, say a word to nobody, curse my stars till eleven at night, and then creep into bed to curse my stars for tomorrow; and all this, because I love a little black eyed girl of fifteen, whom nobody knows, with my whole heart and soul! Take notice, that if you do not send me a very long/er/ letter to morrow, (it may be as sober and you may talk with as little violence as Mrs. H[unter] pleases) I'll be very happy all the rest of the week; and when I do receive one at last, I shall say to the servant looking at the letter sideways;-"Oh, a letter from Brighton; here, lay it down on the table, I am going out to dinner in a great hurry, so I can read it when I return at night."- There's a true lover's malice for you.- You think I was offended last Friday evening, you assured me of your affection, you begged pardon of one, who when he utters an unkind word to you, is putting a thousand daggers to his own breast; but /but/ you know I was never seriously or beyond a moment offended with you, nor was I then;-'tis true, I stayed but a minute with you when you sent for me, and persisted in leaving the room even when you entreated me to stop: I did not so much as look at you; but it was because I knew, that if I trusted myself with a single glance at the face I doated on, I should have folded you to my bosom, and begged that pardon which I thought I ought not to beg: for you must confess, that if you did leave me, when you came down, /because/ for the reason you assigned, yet you might have come down sometime before a quarter to nine, considering I /shou/ was not to see you for a week.- However, you are a dear-affectionate girl; though you must not suppose, I love you a bit the better for being fifty miles out of my reach; that is, out of my reach in the day time: for you must know that I travel at a pretty tolerable pace every night, and have held many a happy chat with you about twelve or one o'clock at midnight though you may have forgotten it by this time; /as the/ Oft by yon sad and solitary stream Sweet visions gild the youthful poet's dream; Calm as he slumbers in the roseate shade, Unvarying Fancy clasps his absent maid, Hangs on each charm that captivates the heart, The smile, the glance too eloquent for art , [Page Break] The whispers trembling as of love they tell, And the smooth bosom's undulating swell; Paints the bright prospect of approaching years, And all Elysium opens to his pray'rs. You see lovers can no more help being poets, than poets can help being lovers.- You long to see Elliston:[1] by the merest chance in the world I saw him on Saturday night: I was going to say that Harry Johnstone[3] was not fit to tie Elliston's neckcloth; but I have a respect for your favourites; besides this would not be truth, as Harry is certainly an excellent, nay a fine actor in particular parts, /that/ such as require haughtiness or demeanour or represent the energy of resolution; but then Elliston is fine in every thing: the pieces I saw (I was alone) were the "Mountaineers[4] and "Love laughs at locksmiths,[5] a farce attributed to Colman, and to his honour-for it's humour is excellent and peculiar: in the drama Elliston electrified the feelings of his audience in the part of a lover, who for the loss of his mistress, whom he supposes to be married to another by force, is seized with sudden starts and fits of melancholy madness; his bursts of passion are awful, and the sudden descent of anger into a wild and fixed melancholy is so pathetic that if I had been in the pit, I would have jumped on the stage and wept with the suff'rer: one time, I could almost have seen you give him a kiss; it was in a scene, when he is madly struggling with a young Moor who refuses him a passage through the mountains; he is just dashing the stranger to the ground with all the brutal strength of a maniac, when the Moor's mistress (Mrs. Atkins!!!!!!!!!!!!!)[6] rushes in to save her lover; at the first sight of her, the madman seems to have lost all his strength, he /looses/ drops his hands as if suddenly overcome with faintness, and fixing a look of melancholy tenderness on her face, as if he recollected he himself had loved and would do any thing for the other sex, he utters the mere word-Woman'! but with such a look and in such a tone that-in short, he is a divinity;-ay, and then in the farce he performs a young intriguing officer most admirably, acts in the disguise of a Jew wonderfully, and to crown all sings a most excellent song:-by the bye, his person is elegant and active though sufficiently strong, and if he has not a face as regularly fine as H. Johnstone's, his features are strongly marked and capable of powerful variation: in fact,-but you mast see him yourself, and judge for yourself, and if you don't admire him above all other admirables, (that is, admirable actors) I shall-I don't know what I shan't! Will you do me the favour-I beg pardon-Will you tell me, my dear girl, whether Mrs. Hunter is conscious that there is such a person as James Henry Leigh Hunt, or whether she is too sore with the lashes she has received to write a line of How-d'ye-do's to London St? I have been told, that this lady has been frightened with a most terrific dream; such a dream as will make a most excellent penny gilt book of horribilities to frighten the nursery-"As how one dark night a house in Little Titch was set on fire; /and that/ As how the cupola of Saint Paul his church filled brimful out of the great river Thames could quench not the roaring flames; how the beautiful bevy of sweet damsels, the lady Bellortha, the lady Vernonia, the lady Cliftilla, and the ladies Freemania, Tentinia, and Hutchinsonquilla,[7] virgins of ravishing shape and angelic deportment, escaped not, but were all seized and carried away in a sack made of the skins of nine Tartars by a monstrous giant with a / / face of raw flesh covered with hair, terrible to behold upon! How the valorous Don Hunterero, Knight of the Folio, was stuck through the fifth rib by a malicious enchanter in the shape or a dolphin in boots, and how"-but I am afraid you'll never be able to get to bed after reading this horrible story:-tell Mrs. H. that [a]ll[8] she needs is, in my humble opinion, a good husband at supper with her e[ver]y evening, and all her /good/ best friends about her: in this case too, I shall see you again, and I'll pay you prettily for running away from me, for you shall not stir from my side the whole evening when you return: /and/ tell Betsey too, that she is a very malicious prophetess, and that if she comes to me again with such ill news as she gave me in her last epistle, I shall pray Heaven to cut at least two inches of plumpness from her round face and at nineteen to give her a husband of ninety. If you are well and have been so at Brighton, you are every thing I can wish you: God bless you and yours: you see I can still pray for myself: Heaven knows, that every blessing it bestows on you is /bestowed/ a tenfold one bestowed on your H. Miss Marian Kent Miss Patters - 24 Brighton Place Brighton. 1. Date: See Postmark . 2. Robert William Elliston (1774-1831), popular and versatile actor in both comedy and tragedy. He was appearing at the Haymarket Theatre in the summer of 1803 . 3. John Henry Johnstone (1749-1828), actor. He was superior in Irish parts. 4. Melodrama by George Colman, the Younger, with music by S. Arnold. It was first produced in 1793. 5. Operatic farce by George Colman, the Younger, adapted from Bouilly's Une Folie. It was first produced on July 18, 1803. 6. Mrs. William Atkins, nee Eliza Warrell (fl. 1787-1808?), singer and actress. She made her London appearance in 1797. She was not a great actress but eventually she had some leads and good secondary parts. 7. These were likely Marianne's friends Misses Bell, Vernon, Cliff, Freeman, Tent, and Hutchinson. 8. Sealing wax covers parts of two lines. Published: Correspondence of Leigh Hunt. Thornton Hunt, ed. The Correspondence of Leigh Hunt. London: Smith, Elder & Co., 1862, I, 8-10 [in part]; Luther A. Brewer, ed. My Leigh Hunt Library, the Holograph Letters. Iowa City: University of Iowa Press, 1938, p. 10 [in part].
Transcript Notes	1. Date: See Postmark . 2. Robert William Elliston (1774-1831), popular and versatile actor in both comedy and tragedy. He was appearing at the Haymarket Theatre in the summer of 1803 . 3. John Henry Johnstone (1749-1828), actor. He was superior in Irish parts. 4. Melodrama by George Colman, the Younger, with music by S. Arnold. It was first produced in 1793. 5. Operatic farce by George Colman, the Younger, adapted from Bouilly's Une Folie. It was first produced on July 18, 1803. 6. Mrs. William Atkins, nee Eliza Warrell (fl. 1787-1808?), singer and actress. She made her London appearance in 1797. She was not a great actress but eventually she had some leads and good secondary parts. 7. These were likely Marianne's friends Misses Bell, Vernon, Cliff, Freeman, Tent, and Hutchinson. 8. Sealing wax covers parts of two lines.
Transcript By	Cheney, David R. (David Raymond), 1922-2006
Transcript Location	Ward M. Canaday Center for Special Collections: http://www.utoledo.edu/library/canaday/index.html
Letter Published In	Thornton Hunt, ed. The Correspondence of Leigh Hunt. London: Smith, Elder & Co., 1862, I, 8-10 [in part]; Luther A. Brewer, ed. My Leigh Hunt Library, the Holograph Letters. Iowa City: University of Iowa Press, 1938, p. 10 [in part].

Title	Page1
Relation - Is Part Of	Leigh Hunt letter to Marianne Kent Hunt, ca. 1803
Digital Collection	Leigh Hunt Letters
File Name	h94hum-6_Page1.jpg
Transcript	My dearest Marian, I am very uncomfortable; I get up at five in the morning, say a word to nobody, curse my stars till eleven at night, and then creep into bed to curse my stars for tomorrow; and all this, because I love a little black eyed girl of fifteen, whom nobody knows, with my whole heart and soul! Take notice, that if you do not send me a very long/er/ letter to morrow, (it may be as sober and you may talk with as little violence as Mrs. H[unter] pleases) I'll be very happy all the rest of the week; and when I do receive one at last, I shall say to the servant looking at the letter sideways;—"Oh, a letter from Brighton; here, lay it down on the table, I am going out to dinner in a great hurry, so I can read it when I return at night."— There's a true lover's malice for you.— You think I was offended last Friday evening, you assured me of your affection, you begged pardon of one, who when he utters an unkind word to you, is putting a thousand daggers to his own breast; but /but/ you know I was never seriously or beyond a moment offended with you, nor was I then;—'tis true, I stayed but a minute with you when you sent for me, and persisted in leaving the room even when you entreated me to stop: I did not so much as look at you; but it was because I knew, that if I trusted myself with a single glance at the face I doated on, I should have folded you to my bosom, and begged that pardon which I thought I ought not to beg: for you must confess, that if you did leave me, when you came down, /because/ for the reason you assigned, yet you might have come down sometime before a quarter to nine, considering I /shou/ was not to see you for a week.— However, you are a dear-affectionate girl; though you must not suppose, I love you a bit the better for being fifty miles out of my reach; that is, out of my reach in the day time: for you must know that I travel at a pretty tolerable pace every night, and have held many a happy chat with you about twelve or one o'clock at midnight though you may have forgotten it by this time; /as the/ Oft by yon sad and solitary stream Sweet visions gild the youthful poet's dream; Calm as he slumbers in the roseate shade, Unvarying Fancy clasps his absent maid, Hangs on each charm that captivates the heart, The smile, the glance too eloquent for art,

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Leigh Hunt letter to Marianne Kent Hunt, ca. 1803

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Leigh Hunt letter to Marianne Kent Hunt, ca. 1803

Leigh Hunt letter to Marianne Kent Hunt, ca. 1803

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