CONCORD, November 22, 1858.
FRIEND RICKETSON,--I thank you for your "History."[90] Though I have
not yet read it again, I have looked far enough to see that I like the
homeliness of it; that is, the good, old-fashioned way of writing, as
if you actually lived where you wrote. A man's interest in a single
bluebird is worth more than a complete but dry list of the fauna and
flora of a town. It is also a considerable advantage to be able to say
at any time, "If D. R. is not here, here is his book." Alcott being
here, and inquiring after you (whom he has been expecting), I lent the
book to him almost immediately. He talks of going West the latter part
of this week. Channing is here again, as I am told, but I have not
seen him.
I thank you also for the account of the trees. It was to my purpose,
and I hope you got something out of it too. I suppose that the cold
weather prevented your coming here. Suppose you try a winter walk on
skates. Please remember me to your family.
* * * * *
Late in November, 1858, Cholmondeley, who had not written for a year
and six months, suddenly notified Thoreau from Montreal that he was in
Canada, and would visit Concord the next week. Accordingly he arrived
early in December, and urged his friend to go with him to the West
Indies. John Thoreau, the father, was then in his last illness, and
for that and other reasons Thoreau could not accept the invitation;
but he detained Cholmondeley in Concord some days, and took him to New
Bedford, December 8th, having first written this note to Mr.
Ricketson:--
"Thomas Cholmondeley, my English acquaintance, is here, on his way to
the West Indies. He wants to see New Bedford, a whaling town. I tell
him I would like to introduce him to you there,--thinking more of his
seeing you than New Bedford. So we propose to come your way to-morrow.
Excuse this short notice, for the time is short. If on any account it
is inconvenient to see us, you will treat us accordingly."
Of this visit and his English visitor, Mr. Ricketson wrote in his
journal the next day:--
"We were all much pleased with Mr. Cholmondeley. He is a tall spare
man, thirty-five years of age, of fair and fresh complexion, blue
eyes, light-brown and fine hair, nose small and Roman, beard light and
worn full, with a mustache. A man of fine culture and refinement of
manners, educated at Oriel College, Oxford, of an old Cheshire family
by his father, a clergyman. He wore a black velvet sack coat, and
lighter-colored trousers,--a sort of genteel traveling suit; perhaps a
cap, but by no means a fashionable 'castor.' He reminded me of our
dear friend, George William Curtis." Few greater compliments could
this diarist give than to compare a visitor to Curtis, the lamented.
Mr. Cholmondeley left Concord for the South, going as far as to
Virginia, in December and January; then came back to Concord the 20th
of January, 1859, and after a few days returned to Canada, and thence
to England by way of Jamaica. He was in London when Theodore Parker
reached there from Santa Cruz, in June, and called on him, with offers
of service; but does not seem to have heard of Parker's death till I
wrote him in May, 1861. At my parting with him in Concord, he gave me
money with which to buy grapes for the invalid father of Thoreau,--an
instance of his constant consideration for others; the Thoreaus hardly
affording such luxuries as hothouse grapes for the sick. Sophia
Thoreau, who perhaps was more appreciative of him than her more
stoical brother, said after his death, "We have always had the truest
regard for him, as a person of rare integrity, great benevolence, and
the sincerest friendliness." This well describes the man whose
every-day guise was literally set down by Mr. Ricketson.