1855.
Miss Heathorn and her parents reached England at the beginning of May
1855, and took up their abode at 8 Titchfield Terrace, not far from
Huxley's own lodgings and his brothers' house. One thing, however,
filled Huxley with dismay. Miss Heathorn's health had broken down
utterly, and she looked at death's door. All through the preceding year
she had been very ill; she had gone with friends, Mr. and Mrs. Wise, to
the newly opened mining-camp at Bathurst, and she and Mrs. Wise were
indeed the first women to visit it; returning to Sydney after rather a
rough time, she caught a chill, and being wrongly treated by a doctor of
the blood-letting, calomel-dosing school, she was reduced to a shadow,
and only saved by another practitioner, who reversed the treatment just
in time.
In his letters to her, Huxley had not at first realised the danger she
had been in; and afterwards tried to keep her spirits up by a cheerful
optimism that would only look forward to their joyful union and many
years of unbroken happiness to atone for their long parting.
But the reality alarmed him. He took her to one of the most famous
doctors of the day, as if merely a patient he was interested in. Then as
one member of the profession to another, he asked him privately his
opinion of the case. "I give her six months of life," said Aesculapius.]
"Well, six months or not," [replied Huxley,] "she is going to be my
wife." [The doctor was mightily put out. "You ought to have told me that
before." Of course, the evasive answer in such a contingency was
precisely what Huxley wished to avoid. Happily another leading doctor
held a much more favourable opinion, and said that with care her
strength would come back, slowly but surely.]
14 Waverley Place, Wednesday.
My dear Hooker,
My wife and I met again on Sunday last, and I have established herself,
her father and mother, close by me here at 8 Titchfield Terrace,
Regent's Park, and whenever you and Mrs. Hooker are in this part of the
world, and can find time to call there, you will find her anything but
surprised to see you.
God help me! I discover that I am as bad as any young fool who knows no
better, and if the necessity for giving six lectures a week did not
sternly interfere, I should be hanging about her ladyship's
apron-strings all day. She is in very bad health, poor child, and I have
some reason to be anxious, but I have every hope she will mend with
care.
Oh this life! "atra cura," as old Thackeray has it, sits on all our
backs and mingles with all our happiness. But if I go on talking in this
way you will wonder what has come over my philosophership.
Ever yours,
T.H. Huxley.
[Black Care was still in the background, but had relaxed her hold upon
him. His spirits rose to the old point of gaiety. He writes how he gives
a lively lecture to his students, and in the midst of it satan prompts
him to crow or howl--a temptation happily resisted. He makes atrocious
puns in bidding Hooker to the wedding, which took place on July 21.]
Jermyn Street, July 6, 1855.
My dear Hooker,
I ought long since to have thanked you in Thomson's name as well as my
own for your "Flora Indica." Some day I promise myself much pleasure and
profit from the digestion of the Introductory Essay, which is probably
as much as my gizzard is competent to convert into nutrition.
I terminate my Baccalaureate and take my degree of M.A.-trimony (isn't
that atrocious?) on Saturday, July 21. After the unhappy criminals have
been turned off, there will be refreshments provided for the sheriffs,
chaplain, and spectators. Will you come? Don't if it is a bore, but I
should much like to have you there.
[It was not a large party that assembled at the George Huxleys for the
wedding, but all were life-long friends, including, besides the Fanning
clan and Mrs. Griffiths, an old Australian ally, Hooker, Tyndall, and
Dr. and Mrs. Carpenter. There was none present but felt that abundant
happiness was at least well earned after eight years of trial, and still
more that its best guarantee was the firm loyalty and devotion that had
passed through so many dangers of absence and isolation, so many
temptations to renounce the ideal course under stress of circumstance,
only to emerge strengthened and ennobled by the stern discipline of much
sacrifice.
Great as was his new happiness, he hardly stood in need of Darwin's word
of warning: "I hope your marriage will not make you idle; happiness, I
fear, is not good for work." Huxley could not sit idle for long. If he
had no occupation on hand, something worth investigation--and thorough
investigation--was sure to catch his eye. So he writes to Hooker from
Tenby:--]
15 St. Julian's Terrace, Tenby, August 16, 1855.
My dear Hooker,
I am so near the end of the honeymoon that I think it can hardly be
immodest if I emerge from private life and write you a letter, more
particularly as I want to know something. I went yesterday on an
expedition to see the remains of a forest which exists between tidemarks
at a place called Amroth, near here.
So far as I can judge there can be no doubt that this really is a case
of downward movement. The stools of the trees are in their normal
position, and their roots are embedded and interwoven in a layer of
stiff blue clay, which lies immediately beneath the superficial mud of
the shore. Layers of leaves, too, are mixed up with the clay in other
parts, and the bark of some of the trees is in perfect preservation. The
condition of the wood is very curious. It is like very hard cheese, so
that you can readily cut slices with a spade, and yet where more of the
trunk has been preserved some parts are very hard. The trees are, I
fancy, Beech and Oak. Could you identify slices if I were to send you
some?
Now it seems to me that here is an opportunity one does not often have
of getting some information about the action of sea water on wood, and
on the mode in which these vegetable remains may become embedded, etc.
etc., and I want to get you to tell me where I can find information on
submerged forests in general, so as to see to what points one can best
direct one's attention, and to suggest any inquiries that may strike
yourself.
I do not see how the stumps can occur in this position without direct
sinking of the land, and that such a sinking should have occurred
tallies very well with some other facts which I have observed as to the
nature of the bottom at considerable depths here.
We had the jolliest cruise in the world by Oxford, Warwick, Kenilworth,
Stratford, Malvern, Ross, and the Wye though it WAS a little rainy, and
though my wife's strength sadly failed at times.
Still she was on the whole much better and stronger than I had any right
to expect, and although I get frightened every now and then, yet there
can be no doubt that she is steadily though slowly improving. I have no
fears for the ultimate result, but her amendment will be a work of time.
We have really quite settled down into Darby and Joan, and I begin to
regard matrimony as the normal state of man. It's wonderful how light
the house looks when I come back weary with a day's boating to what it
used to do.
I hope Mrs. Hooker is well and about again. Pray give her our very kind
regards, and believe me, my dear Hooker, ever yours,
T.H. Huxley.
[At Tenby he stayed on through August and September, continuing his
occupations of the previous summer, dredging up specimens for his
microscope, and working partly for his own investigations, partly for
the Geological Survey.