GE to John Blackwood, Rome, 3 April 1860
Title
GE to John Blackwood, Rome, 3 April 1860
Title
GE to John Blackwood, Rome, 3 April 1860
Sender
George Eliot
Recipient
John Blackwood
Date(s)
- 1860-04-03
Place
Rome
Letter Content
GE to John Blackwood, Rome, 3 April 1860
MS: National Library of Scotland. Hitherto unpublished.
San Carlo al Corso | Rome | April 3. 60.
My dear Sir
I can now give you our address for the next month or more, for I foresee that it will not be easy to forsake Rome. If I had written to you the first day we entered it (Sunday), 524 I could have told you of no other feeling than that of disappointment, deep and bitter. I thought my imagination had suffered a loss in coming to look at an ugly modern city and losing forever the scene of varied broken grandeur I had always called up to myself at the mention of Rome. And in this ugly, flat city, the best hotels were all full, and even the second and third best -- below the third story; so that Palm Sunday, beginning with the exasperating delays of Civita Vecchia, 525 and ending in a third-story room of the Hotel de l'Am'e9rique, was not at all a palmy day to us. But, yesterday, our first thought was to drive to St. Peter's -- and then, to the Capitol, and then to the Coliseum and so on; till, instead of disappointment came an intoxication of delight, making me long to stay here and study till I know Rome by heart all except these ugly modern streets which are enough to scare away every haunting spirit of the past. The view from the Capitol down the Forum, and on towards the Coliseum, was the first glimpse I had of anything in the least like my "Rome unvisited." You remember all these things, I dare say, and have perhaps gone through the same experience of disappointment relieved.
We have the bluest of skies, and the green buds are fast opening into broad leaves, touching every dark tinted ruin with brightest patches. And we have a very comfortable suite of rooms at a moderate price, 526 all the world having moved to the hotels, and left the private apartments empty. Much obliged to them; for we prefer this quiet life, which we should not have sought if we had found suitable accommodation at the hotel.
Having begun at the end of our journey, I shall finish with the journey itself, 527 which I have borne, not like an invalided novelist, but like a muscular Christian, not even suffering from the sea, or from the passage over the Mont Cenis, in the cramping diligence and traineau. Mr. Lewes has not borne it half so well, and the unpleasant sensations he has had to suffer from a return of old symptoms in the head have been the only drawback on my enjoyment. Our journey was entirely prosperous: we saw the summit of Mount Cenis in due time under the morning starlight, and rested two days at Genoa, under unbroken sunshine, hearing from fellow-travellers sad stories of what their friends had suffered who made the same journey a few weeks earlier. One party was nearly 24 hours passing Mount Cenis, with no food except a small loaf which one of them shared with the rest. I had seen Genoa the superb before; but it was new to Mr. Lewes, and his rapturous delight in those streets of palaces and the amphitheatre of softly shadowed hills gave it the best sort of novelty to me.
I think Rome will at last chase away Maggie and the Mill from my thoughts: I hope it will, for she and her sorrows have clung to me painfully. As for the book, I can see nothing in it just now but the absence of things that might have been there. In fact, the third volume has the material of a novel compressed into it. I tremble rather, to hear of its reception, lest high hopes should be speedily checked. But then, I am always in a state of fear, more or less rational; and if any good news comes, it will be the more welcome. You will hardly have anything to tell by the time you receive this letter, and perhaps it will be worth while for you to wait till something more than the fact of the subscription has turned up. But I know you will write just as soon as the kindest consideration can prompt.
You will not wonder at finding me a rather flat correspondent, when
I tell you that the morning sun is shining and that I am longing to get out to the baths of Caracalla. I promise always to be charmed at receiving a letter from you even in the grandest scene of grandest memories -- but I will not promise ever to be charmed at having to write a letter.
We both hope to hear that you as well as the book are entirely prosperous, and begging you and the Major to accept our kind regards, I am ever, my dear Sir,
Yours truly
Marian Evans Lewes.
John Blackwood Esq.
MS: National Library of Scotland. Hitherto unpublished.
San Carlo al Corso | Rome | April 3. 60.
My dear Sir
I can now give you our address for the next month or more, for I foresee that it will not be easy to forsake Rome. If I had written to you the first day we entered it (Sunday), 524 I could have told you of no other feeling than that of disappointment, deep and bitter. I thought my imagination had suffered a loss in coming to look at an ugly modern city and losing forever the scene of varied broken grandeur I had always called up to myself at the mention of Rome. And in this ugly, flat city, the best hotels were all full, and even the second and third best -- below the third story; so that Palm Sunday, beginning with the exasperating delays of Civita Vecchia, 525 and ending in a third-story room of the Hotel de l'Am'e9rique, was not at all a palmy day to us. But, yesterday, our first thought was to drive to St. Peter's -- and then, to the Capitol, and then to the Coliseum and so on; till, instead of disappointment came an intoxication of delight, making me long to stay here and study till I know Rome by heart all except these ugly modern streets which are enough to scare away every haunting spirit of the past. The view from the Capitol down the Forum, and on towards the Coliseum, was the first glimpse I had of anything in the least like my "Rome unvisited." You remember all these things, I dare say, and have perhaps gone through the same experience of disappointment relieved.
We have the bluest of skies, and the green buds are fast opening into broad leaves, touching every dark tinted ruin with brightest patches. And we have a very comfortable suite of rooms at a moderate price, 526 all the world having moved to the hotels, and left the private apartments empty. Much obliged to them; for we prefer this quiet life, which we should not have sought if we had found suitable accommodation at the hotel.
Having begun at the end of our journey, I shall finish with the journey itself, 527 which I have borne, not like an invalided novelist, but like a muscular Christian, not even suffering from the sea, or from the passage over the Mont Cenis, in the cramping diligence and traineau. Mr. Lewes has not borne it half so well, and the unpleasant sensations he has had to suffer from a return of old symptoms in the head have been the only drawback on my enjoyment. Our journey was entirely prosperous: we saw the summit of Mount Cenis in due time under the morning starlight, and rested two days at Genoa, under unbroken sunshine, hearing from fellow-travellers sad stories of what their friends had suffered who made the same journey a few weeks earlier. One party was nearly 24 hours passing Mount Cenis, with no food except a small loaf which one of them shared with the rest. I had seen Genoa the superb before; but it was new to Mr. Lewes, and his rapturous delight in those streets of palaces and the amphitheatre of softly shadowed hills gave it the best sort of novelty to me.
I think Rome will at last chase away Maggie and the Mill from my thoughts: I hope it will, for she and her sorrows have clung to me painfully. As for the book, I can see nothing in it just now but the absence of things that might have been there. In fact, the third volume has the material of a novel compressed into it. I tremble rather, to hear of its reception, lest high hopes should be speedily checked. But then, I am always in a state of fear, more or less rational; and if any good news comes, it will be the more welcome. You will hardly have anything to tell by the time you receive this letter, and perhaps it will be worth while for you to wait till something more than the fact of the subscription has turned up. But I know you will write just as soon as the kindest consideration can prompt.
You will not wonder at finding me a rather flat correspondent, when
I tell you that the morning sun is shining and that I am longing to get out to the baths of Caracalla. I promise always to be charmed at receiving a letter from you even in the grandest scene of grandest memories -- but I will not promise ever to be charmed at having to write a letter.
We both hope to hear that you as well as the book are entirely prosperous, and begging you and the Major to accept our kind regards, I am ever, my dear Sir,
Yours truly
Marian Evans Lewes.
John Blackwood Esq.
Signature
Marian Evans Lewes.
Citation
George Eliot, GE to John Blackwood, Rome, 3 April 1860, Complete George Eliot Letters(2026), George Eliot Archive, edited by Beverley Park Rilett. https://GeorgeEliotArchive.org, Accessed September 7, 2026. https://georgeeliotarchive.org/items/show/92723