You know that I am practically in prison here. I am fairly successful in enforcing patience and resignation upon myself, considering what attractive prospects lie just without the walls, but I am still a reasoning being and do not exclude myself from thinking of the concern which my disappointments must bring to you. I am only to have you as well informed as I can. Every day I look for a decided improvement and thus far every day, I am disappointed. I believe that Dr Rainer, my prison keeper, is the very best man in the world to handle me, and he is most assiduous—is doing absolutely his very best—to set me free. He is disappointed from day to day, as I am. He knows the difficulty, however, and the need of patience and is not discouraged. He was a few years ago in a similar condition himself—worse indeed, except that he was younger. He was wholly without sleep for a week. He says with confidence, after repeated examinations, of all my anatomy, that I have no organic trouble and that I may reasonably expect under favorable circumstances to keep at work for several years to come. He regards my present trouble (apparently) but as a variation in form of the troubles which led me to come abroad. He thinks that my course has not been unwise; that it would probably have been best for me to take more rest than nature prompted; that it is a peculiarity of my case that over-exertion does not produce the sensation of fatigue. He fully expects that I shall be set up again. He hints, in answer to my suggestions, that it may be best before I am set entirely free, to send me for a short time to one of several establishments (water cures or sanitariums) as a convalescent hospital; the Malvern Hills, or to one which he thinks well of near Hampton Court. I am not falling back at all; am apparently gaining a little; have at no time been much cast down or lost cheerfulness, and my guess, today, is that he will let me out next week; out that is to say, as a ticket-of-leave man. (He takes me out for a walk on the heath, or lets me have a drive in one of the nearer parks, evy day).

[534]

Phil comes to me nearly evy day, and appears to me to be occupying himself instructively and educationally, as he might, within a few hours journey, of London, for six months.

Of course, my difficulty is that I cannot calculate even a week ahead with confidence. Even if the doctor should send me to one of his convalescent hospitals, however, I think that he would agree that I shall be in a condition within three weeks to travel much as I did during our first fortnight in England. He would advise me to do so as the best means of establishing convalescence, for two or three weeks before leaving for home.

I have written simply to give you the best knowledge I can of the situation. This is the first writing I have done since I last wrote John. You will understand that I was not as much advanced then, as I thought & represented. Except Waterer and Miss Wilkinson, who came here to see me, I have met no one whom I wanted to (professionally). I have had invitations to meet several but have not dared to accept them. But I expect to do better yet. Let me know if I can do anything for Chicago. I see Adlumia cirhosa, advertised as exceedingly attractive creeper at 3 for 1/.

I should like the briefest reference to your progress not only at Chicago, but at Louisville, Marquette, Reid’s, Twombly and Newport. You see I am not expecting to sail before I hear from you again.

Faithfully,

A note which came yesterday from you to Rick gives me such brief summary of what has been passing in our professional affairs as I have been feeling that I ought to have. (Rick has taken it away, and I am trying to write out of doors. It has been too cool hitherto to sit comfortably outside. About a week ago there was heavy frost in the lower parts of Hampstead). One of the matters of which nothing has been reported and of which I have had some anxiety to hear is the planting and general advance of the Parkway, Brookline, as to which you say nothing. A phrase of your note implies that Col. Livermore has been re-elected Commissioner. But I can hardly believe it. All that I had [536]understood you to intimate before was that the mayor was postponing the submission of any other names to the Aldermen. Please state, in a line, exactly the state of the case. It is of so much importance. Touching Chicago, the only point of special anxiety in your account is as to the effect of dredging. It is to be kept in mind that it is always open to us to dam the outlets from the grand basin. If the dredging badly disturbs the lower parts of the shore planting, it may for this and other reasons be thought best to abandon the attempt to keep the water within, at the lake level. To make the change would, I suppose, require coffer dams to be made before insetting permanent dams & sluices, and it must be set about soon. I have always regarded it as an open question—a question of a nice balance of advantages—or disadvantages. There seems to be a method in use upon the upper Thames of transferring boats through dams, or from one level to another of the river without locks, which may possibly be available for us, if the dam arrangmt is concluded to be best. I still hope to be allowed to go up the Thames and if I do will report upon it.

Further, as to Chicago, I never drive out without seeing something suggestive as to our shore planting. A pond on a rustic Common which we saw yesterday, (Marion, Rick and I) was almost the ideal thing in parts. The prettiest plant common here & in France, not with us, is called the water ranunculus. A little floating weed with abundant and, so far, constant small white bloom. I think that I have seen it with us—perhaps at Chicago, among exotics. What they call the Rush here (as I understand) is a reedy plant with a lofty, banneret of bloom, growing ordinarily 6 to 8 ft high, under favorable circumstances 10’ to 12’. There is another called the flowering rush (I am told) more ornamental. Perhaps we should get a quantity of the roots of these to be planted next fall. If they could be moved without heating they would be a pleasing addition to our variety and not costly. And I feel that we want all practicable variety. I am always hoping to hear of vast quantities of irises in association with calla-like & burdock-like, or rhubarb-like great leaf plants. As to garden decoration proper, I have not been able yet to see anything—or rather, nothing I have seen, here or in France, is good or promising. I should except, perhaps, varied and mixed banks against strong backs of shrubbery or architecture. These sometimes look fairly and promise better. And, at present, I am able to look forward to nothing {of} decorative planting at Chicago, except of this kind, (for which we have great openings) with any confident satisfaction. The more I see of bedding planting, ribband planting &c. detached from backings, (and made in a degree subordinate to it (and as it were a trimming or fringe to) massive, dense or solid, nearly monotone bodies), the less am I pleased with, or inclined to use it extensively. No one here seems to have landscape sense, and all criticism and praise applies to details independently of landscape composition or architectural propriety. But all I can say upon this is premature for really I have seen nothing either of gardens or of representative intelligent people—people specially intelligent in this direction. Marion has seen more of these but I do not think what she reports conflicts with my impression.

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As to my personal condition it is still, and more, that of hope deferred. For two days before Phil left I thought I was on the turn at last. Then came nearly forty eight hours without sleep, though I took in that time seven sedative doses, under Dr. Rainer’s very cautious and reluctant administration. I slept well from five to ten this morning and then was awakened by an attack of facial neuralgia (I am taking quinine and iron—new and improvd preparations of them). It is very unpleasant, making a hospital, as I do, of the Rainer establishment. They all tell me that I am looking better and that I am gaining flesh. The doctor says that he never saw as young a looking man of my age and that if I will be careful and dismiss care he will expect me to be a centenarian. And I try to think so and succeed in being not cast down, but I know that I am weaker and it appears to me that the hollows under my eyes are much deeper and generally that I look older. I look forward with great reluctance to letting George Glessner and Rick go off on a long cruise without me before I can go with them up the Thames and otherwise arrange some movements connecting with them. As yet they are well employed in and near London. In a few days I will send them on a cruise to the East and South (Rochester, Canterbury) hoping upon their return that the doctor will let me go to Oxford with them.

28th The doctor took me {on} a long drive in the sun yesterday p.m, near to Harrow. I got to sleep at 4 ock (earlier than before for a fortnight) and was again wakened by neuralgia at eight. I have been trying to break out & go to a water cure or start up the Thames, but the doctor advises me to stay a few days longer with him. So it seems he does not despair yet of getting me round the corner. Evidently, however, he expects more from open air, gentle exercise and cheerful indolence than all else. He watches me closely and regularly sits over me twice a day.

If you write again tell me the scheme of work for the summer of the Boston Commission, and how the question of the buildings, thatch, &c. stands.

The plan of Franklin Field shd have most cautious reconsideration & forecast of contingencies. You know I do not like your last plan. But I will not attempt to study a revision here. Nothing further of the Bowditch place? I suppose one of you must make a visit to Biltmore & Atlanta.

Affcty