1 / Thursday / I Have just hear that Poynter / is to have the Nat: Gall: / and I am heartily relieved / - there ought never to have been / any question about it - & I dont find it easy / to forgive Colvin for making a difficulty, / and opposing such an admirable choice. / - when a good man is in the field it is / inexcusable to run against him: and I / am still bothered to think he should / be so fashioned by nature as to want / to compete - so all that nice pulling / in the papers doesn't count - that's a / blessing - dont speak of it till it is / actually published - but that will be / soon - anyhow I promised not to tell / - the usual game, everybody told / & everybody asked not to tell. hah! / & now this minute I am off to the / train. Frances came again this morning / for a little half hour, which was very / kind - & she told me Aggie told her / you looked very pale - I know that / & when shall you look strong again I / wonder - last night men talked / at table about inventions in medicine / & told how Ga? has died was / paralyzed in brain because Chloral / had been given him for sleep - & ? / said it was perfectly safe - & now / they find it kills & maddens before / it kills - & Lord Rayleigh said they / are still at the same ? with / Anti?phine & Sulphinel - wicked / inventions that will kill many a / life - & I thought of you - and / vowed I would go on my knees to pray / you not to take that stuff anymore / will you promise me not to take it anymore / but you dont listen to me, or do / anything I ask - do you? / Rottingdean / and a bonny moon - little gray church / - all the place full of of memories of Margaret / ... / Mo? pompous & stupid - nevertheless / great style about Mo? - as to writing to / you I cant - can't - I want to write / cheerfully, & somehow no cheer is in / me - how far away you are - what / miles of land & sea. What long hours / of distance - some day I shall be thus / far off, or further and shall die, / without seeing you - or you will - and / then the tale will be over - poor little / tale. Well - there will have been no / harm in the tale - harmless little / story as ever was. / I wish somebody could have come down / with me - or that I could have been / alone - this kind of change always / saddens me - & everytime I vow it / shall be the last - & then I forget / and it comes over again. / and over again. / - it is cold here - the wind from the East / & the sky purple black, & the sea a / frigid green & not lovely at all. / and do we all feel remote to you? / & like vague shadows still - that will / rest you - dont hurry to realize / let it all be haze & shadowland / for a while - & one morning you will / wake & want them all - & even move / a bit / now let me be thankful for my mercies / - the Baldwins are not coming - and / that is pleasure enough - surely. / how tired I am of all that side of / ?ation - I have been tired of it / for many years now, tell me, be / sure to tell me when you leave, / that I may not post too late / perhaps I ought not to write after / Saturday - be sure to tell me. / 2 / began a letter to you this morning & / have lost it - how fortunate that / when I write to you all / my words are couched in / terms of such distant respect that William / or any one may read - how different to my / style to Ra? - for I assure you the / word "darling" which at this epoch / takes the place of "dear" is scattered / all over the letters - & never once / - no not once have I trespassed so / for with you. - & your letters to me / are chilly icicles compared with / some I get - freezing icicles - yes. / nevermind - a little reticence & / even stateliness is not amiss, / The other night I found Carr in / the dreadful depression about the "New / movement" the "New movement" / is an epidemic, & one must bide in / patience - it will be short lived / like the plague, & also distinctive / for a time - if I may live yet awhile / & work yet awhile - say for ten / years more - I can help to end it / but it is a strange phenomenon - & / now in the world - for it begins when / other forms of art have ended - ? / ? & putrescence / I ? / Carr all I could & made him / merry even by telling him which / pleasance, of a mean kind, might be / had from it - for many there be always / sitting on a gate with one foot / on one side & one on the other, / & sorely puzzled they will be asked / to say - anxious not to be out of / any "movement" eager to be the / first to announce any amusement / & their purplexities one may watch / with even some little amusement / I won't help them a bit - I shall / sit & smile wickedly - so I / comforted Carr - & then he was / cheered & talked of women, so / did Hallé, & I listened there, / and contributed nothing at all / to the talk - nay even when / invited, I contributed nothing, & / said I had absolutely no experience / - at which they made evil faces, / & changed the talk to comments / on their evil faces, & warned / them against themselves. / Wish I could find the first sheet / I wrote - but it has gone - no / finding it anywhere - I wont / post this till tomorrow - I am / sure you dont want my poor / nonsense every day. insted once / a week would be enough for / such stuff. / about the Amy picture - Dyer / says, & he is right, that it is / not safe to varnish any picture / for 3 or 4 years after it is painted / - I know he is right - it is the / temptation of these beastly / exhibitions, that makes men / imperil their work - in 3 / or 4 years we will have it / done - & all its depth will / come out - meantime we / will be patient - what / does it matter - only I tell you this that you may not / think I have forgotten about / it - it hangs on the wall / where my merciful knight was / & looks nice. - niceish. / 3 / Monday / Oh such a kind long letter / ? a long letter - a real / ? at last - saying comforting / things and now I shall do well for a / time - and it is so sweet of you. / much is happening here but I will tell you / later. for it is a busy morning and / people are waiting for me now to be / talked to - & the engraver came - but / ? ever really matters but you - / & that you know - yes know it so / certainly and are so secure that you / cant imagine why I should ever have a / misgiving - I only have them / because I am such an ugly old thing / and I am better - there is no / doubt of that - final sleep is / coming back - solid lumpy sleep / think how all the world is being / made vile and vulgar by this / little corner of Europe - I wish / all the East could have remained / the ancient immoveable East, / a solace for the world & a protection / but the Anglosaxon, that propagate / like beetles and devours like / locusts has ended that / dream. / What a mercifulsweet assuring / letter you have sent me, you / perfect Lady. / Goodbye / Ever & always / Yours / E
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."