Tuesday night / Another night letter for you, beloved - but why / do you like them? I should hate a love / letter from anyone but you - & shouldn't know / what to do with it - and yet you endure / these from me - I suppose its kindness, & / you think it helps me - well, dear, it does / help me - its like burying my face in / your lap & crying my heart out to you - / & I get up from kneeling & am better / and go about my ways. / Wednesday morning / Then I could write no more but fell deep asleep / till now, & woke to this happy day - & are / you really glad to come? when you say you are / glad to see me it still is hard to believe / though I believe everything you say - / and as far as I can I am trying not / to let my thoughts wander at all in / that road - the road of wondering and / asking how much you feel about me - / - if I could make myself never ask / one question of my heart about that - / or ever let myself dwell upon it, I / know that would be best for me. / because from the very first I said / to myself that all that mattered was that / I should help you - & my heart in / these days was innocent of any / other thought than wanting to make / your life days prettier for you - I want / to go back to those days when I cared / nothing for myself - / I don't know very much do I? but / love is so sweet - & I catch myself / now constantly hunting in your face / & your letters for some little sign / by which I can tell what love you / give me - and I have realised / to do that no more than I can help. / no more at all if I can help / & to think only of you, henceforth, & / how can I make each moment I am / with you prettiest & happiest - /it can be done I know - & it / will rest you, it will be such peace / for you not to have to think about me / & it is peace I wanted to bring you - / ah my dear what constant vigilance / is needed for a perfect life - I want / mine to be perfect towards you, & / it is so hard - / it could be enough to fill my life if / love were altogether only on my side / couldnt it? and I dont want you / to think that would be a hard lot / for me - I dont quite know what / you were going to say on Monday / when I hushed you, but you were / beginning to say it was a shame / for me to give such love & get / so little back - & so it would be / if you had ever given me more, / but I knew the conditions beforehand / & chose my road & I am not going / to turn back, & you are not to / give that a thought, my dear - / & you are not to be troubled about / it & lift little despairing hands / as you did, about it. - You are very / very good to me, dont take away / what you have given - & I promise / never to ask for more. / indeed I have never asked you / for love have I? / What makes you think it would be / sweet to me? / 2 / I wonder what makes you think / it would be sweet for me / you must know a great deal about / these matters to guess that. / But dismiss from your loved / heart all care about that - there / is no unforgiveness, for I know / beforehand - & seeing you so / take it to heart an Monday made / me very unhappy - & I half vowed / to write no more night letters to / you - nor did I, till your yesterday / letter came & almost asked for / one - & here it is my darling / rather a penitent letter - / do you see you are not to be / bothered once in all your life with / the thought of me, except as of a / loving friend, eager & happy to / be your servant, who no more thinks / of being paid back in love than / in gold - & I know you will / never offer me £5 in return for my love. / ah love can't be won, nor got / by asking, no not if Apollo asked, / whose golden mouthed prayers Daphne / fled from - nor got by pity, that / is the poorest of all roads, nor by / desert - and a woman keeps it from / the best man under the sun & gives / it to one less worth - and a man / does the same - if asking would / get it for one I might try - but it / wouldnt - I know many things, / some things I shall never know, & / the cause & the way of love is / one of them - nor shall I ever / understand women or be clever / about them, nor did I ever / 3 / reach any wisdom there - you / see I am a monk with a craving / for a life with a woman - and am / doomed at the outset - & now, / dear, the day is so late that / it cannot much matter - let me / have my way, & I shall go on / full of YOU to the end, & / asking & looking for nothing. / nothing more than you / are giving me now, which is / kindness perpetual & infinitely / sweet to me, you beloved / heavenly spirit, and beautiful / earthly woman / Yes, such a woman that / you wont tell me how old you / are / - ?, I cant get at it - I shall / ask some other woman to tell / me - it must be more than / 20 because Amy couldnt have / been born when you were 2. / And you said you were younger / than Frances - which was so / sweet & frail of you to say / oh you.
The archive, which has remained with May Gaskell’s descendants, consists of more than 200 letters dating from 1892 up to the year of Burne-Jones’s death: three albums of intimate letters from the artist to Mrs Gaskell; two albums of illustrated letters to Mrs Gaskell and her daughter, Daphne; and other ephemera such as the artist’s brushes which he used when painting his famous portrait of Amy Gaskell. The letters are one of the most endearing records of all Burne-Jones’s friendships. They recount both his innermost thoughts and feelings and feature a cast of humorous characters, fictitious and real. They have been acquired for £200,000 with major support from the National Heritage Memorial Fund (NHMF); the Art Fund; the Arts Council England/Victoria and Albert Museum Purchase Grant Fund; the Friends of the National Libraries; and numerous private donations. Two of the albums are on display in the Museum for its Great British Drawings exhibition where they can be seen until 31 August. They will now enter the Ashmolean’s permanent collection. Following conservation, they will be made available as an invaluable resource to students and scholars of the Pre-Raphaelite movement, and they will be published online. The letters will add to the collection of drawings by Burne-Jones bequeathed to the Ashmolean in 1939 by Mrs Gaskell, forming one of the richest Pre-Raphaelite archives in the country. Many of the letters were published by Josceline Dimbleby, May Gaskell’s great-granddaughter, in her acclaimed book, A Profound Secret (2004), which recounts the author’s research into her family’s history. On the occasion of this major acquisition, Josceline Dimbleby will give a Saturday Talk on 8 August at the Ashmolean, in conversation with the curator of Great British Drawings, Colin Harrison. Josceline Dimbleby says: "My discovery of so many intimate and often witty letters from Burne-Jones to my great grandmother May Gaskell, forgotten for decades in an old chest of drawers, was one of the most exciting moments in my life, together with finding, wrapped in old paper and string at the back of one drawer, the paintbrushes he used for his famous portrait of my doomed great aunt Amy Gaskell, still with paint sticking to them. The letters revealed a passion that made it hard to think of this friendship as platonic and I spent a fascinating and happy three years piecing together and writing the story of what was A Profound Secret, feeling that I was getting to know my ancestors, and a very private side of Burne- Jones." Burne- Jones met May Gaskell in 1892, and she became the last in the succession of women with whom he enjoyed especially close, but platonic, friendships. She was the wife of a dull cavalry officer, and, in an unfulfilling marriage, she corresponded with Burne- Jones up to five times a day. The letters include a series of cartoon-like tales featuring characters such as the ‘fat lady’ and the artist himself, caught in mishap and misadventure. Beneath the surface lies the black humour endemic to Burne-Jones’s frequent moods of depression and insecurity. There is, for example, a superb sequence of caricatures of the artist suffering from flu. In the course of their friendship, Burne-Jones became dependent on May, confessing to her that she ‘reached the well of loneliness that is in me’. He also sent whimsical letters to the infant Daphne Gaskell (1887–1966). She was only six when she met Burne-Jones and he took an affectionate and fatherly interest in her, his own children having grown up. His letters to Daphne, written in phonetic spelling, include birds and animals familiar from his other letters to children, and several fantastic inventions such as the ‘Phlumbudge’ and ‘Flapdabble’. The archive also includes some letters to May’s elder daughter, Amy (1874–1910), whom Burne-Jones painted in 1893 in one of the greatest Pre-Raphaelite portraits (collection of Lord Lloyd-Webber). Colin Harrison, Senior Curator of European Art, Ashmolean Museum, says: "May Gaskell was Burne- Jones’s closest friend in his last years. He gave her a selection of his finest drawings, which she in turn gave to the Ashmolean in 1939. The opportunity to acquire the albums of intimate and humorous letters that he sent to May and to her daughter, Daphne, was unmissable; and we are most grateful for the support from the NHMF, the Art Fund, and other bodies, as well as numerous private donors. Their generosity has ensured that the letters have ended up in their rightful home, and that the Ashmolean now has one of the most representative, as well as distinguished, collections of Burne-Jones’s work in the world." Sir Peter Luff, Chair of NHMF, says: “Sir Edward Burne-Jones was the most prominent of the second generation Pre-Raphaelites and his work had an enormous influence. This exceptional collection of letters, which throws light on the last years of his life, was the most important part of his collection in private hands. I'm delighted that National Heritage Memorial Fund investment will mean they can be available for everyone to explore and enjoy.” Stephen Deuchar, Director of the Art Fund, says: "The Ashmolean owns one of the finest collections of works by Burne-Jones in the world, which will be greatly enriched by this important and delightful collection of letters."