SD1209. Edward George Barrett to Georgiana Elizabeth Barrett
Published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 8, 335 (in part).
Albion. Moneague–
May 22. 1844.
My dear Missy
I received your long letter of March 18—and as you say you want an answer soon I hasten to reply although perhaps you may think that I ought to have done so sooner—but I assure you that news are scarce here, & that it is a serious undertaking to write a packet letter which I suppose would not answer to your expectations unless it consisted of at least three sides– I do not think that the dryness of our climate was the reason that the seeds you sent did not grow, for the year in which I planted them appeared to be a very wet one, and only the furze, and some other seed I can’t make out, grew at all—the land they were planted in was very rich. Walnuts have grown and at a gentlemans place not far from here, but from some unlucky accident the tree was destroyed– I am afraid that I cannot fulfil your wishes with regard to the fruits you want, as no Jamaica fruits that I can think of, with the exception of cocoanuts & shaddocks, will keep at all—even if it were possible to send our fruits over to England I do not think that they would please an English taste, as they are so totally different in flavor—it requires a person to be accustomed to them before they can be properly relished, but when one has once got a liking for them I suspect English fruits would be very insipid after. The finest fruit is decidedly the orange– I infinitely prefer it to the pine, although these last here are quite equal to the best grown in England– The miserable, sour, juiceless things which pass under the name of Oranges in England give a very poor idea of our splendid Jamaican production—they bear about the same relation to the Jamaica oranges, as a crabapple does to a New York pippin– Our shaddocks here are not good, the best are grown at Cinnamon Hill Edward Barretts property; those that you have tasted are most probably from thence. They improve very much by the voyage, so that you must have had them in perfection—the best are of a fine crimson inside, and have a peculiar spiciness– I have copied a small map of Jamaica I happen to have in a book, & have entered as many names & situations of places as I could, I hope that this will serve your purpose; there is no map of Jamaica loose or I would have sent it– I am more rejoiced than I can express, at finding there is some chance of my seeing some books at last, nothing can probably be more welcome than the package containing them will be when it arrives– You lucky people in England do not know what it is to “hunger & thirst” after a book—a book of any description; very, very many bitter regrets have I given to my poor little library, wh I so unfortunately lost– People in this country have a bad habit of not returning books when lent, so I suffer for other’s misdeeds & even when one does get hold of some stray volume, it only serves to make one wish for more– I only wish the happy time may come when I shall be able to spare a few pounds annually towards buying books. I should be perfectly contented here then– You need not trouble yourself and enlarge the parcel by packing up all the trumpery novels, rejoicing in the names of “Matilda,” “Ethelinda”—[illegible word] which I remember formed a large part of the books at Leamington, as they are of no earthly use, or amusement either– You ask if I recollect any of Edward Barrett’s family; Storm I recollect perfectly well. I saw a good deal of him while he was out here—he was so kind as to invite <me to> pass some time with him, when I was ill with ague, at a beautiful place of his father’s called Retreat—in this parish—where he was then residing, and he afterwards stopped a day or two with my brother & myself at Albion– Poor Sam who died at Cinnamon Hill, I also knew well, & like every one else who knew him, have never ceased to regret his loss– I do not know any more of them. Miss Tripsack I have a hazy recollection of as having given me the first cocoa nut I ever tasted when I was a little piccaninny in London– You say you beg me to write often, I beg in return to assure you that it is quite impossible to concoct many packet letters for a young lady out of my very scanty materials—whenever I have amassed sufficient materials for the construction of an Epistle I will sit down and indite it, but I cannot promise it more frequently than twice a year, but if you can get my father and brother to act in the same liberal manner I think that you will be pretty well supplied with correspondence– Poor Monk has been very unwell indeed—about two months ago he came up here from St Mary’s [(]where he is bookkeeper) to get rid of a violent cold he had caught from wet & fatigue—he was laid up for a month with severe pains first in his side & then in his back & legs—at last he got better by dint of patience & brown paper soaked in Vinegar & went back to St Mary’s but the other day my father got a letter from him saying that he had been again taken ill, and had been physicked, bled & blistered plentifully & was at the time of writing beginning to get a little better, I hope soon to hear of his complete recovery–
My budget is now exhausted, & I must wish you good-bye.
Yrs very truly
E G Barrett
Address: Miss Barrett / 20 York Buildings / New Road / London.
Publication: None traced.
Manuscript: Eton College Library.
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