L'Angelier's letters
      
The Smith's front doorkitchen windows (front area)Minnoch's DoorMinnoch's apartmentsBessie's bedroomMadeleine's bedroom windowsJohn's bedroom windowSmiths' drawing roomSmiths' dining room

N.B.  Madeleine did not keep any of L'Angelier's letters. His "letters" to Madeleine survive only in draft form, i.e. he had kept copies of some of his own correspondence.

 

To: Madeleine 
Glasgow, 10 Bothwell Street. 18th July, 1855. 

In the first place, I did not deserve to be treated an you have done. How you astonish me by writing such a note without condescending to explain the reasons why your father refuses his consent. He must have reasons, and I am not allowed to clear myself of accusations. 

I should have written you before, but I preferred awaiting until I got over surprise your last letter caused me, and also to be able to write you in a calm and a collected manner, free, from any animosity whatever. 

Never, dear Madeleine, could I have believed you were capable of such conduct. I thought and believed you unfit for such a step. I believed you true to your word and to your honour. I will put questions to you which answer to yourself. What would you think if even one of your servants had played with anyone’s affections as you have done, or what would you say to hear that any lady friends had done what you have - or what am I to (think) of you now ? What is your opinion of your own self after those solemn vows you uttered and wrote to me. Show my letters to any one, Madeleine, I don't care who, and if any find that I mislead you I will free you from all blame. I warned you repeatedly not to be rash in your engagement and vows to me, but you persisted in that false and deceitful flirtation, playing with affections which you know to be pure and undivided, and knowing at the same time that at a word from your father you would break all your engagement. 

You have deceived your father as you have deceived me. You never told him how solemnly you bound yourself to me, or if you had, for the honour of his daughter he could not have asked to break of an engagement as ours. Madeleine, you have truly acted wrong. May this be a lesson to you never to trifle with any again. I wish you every happiness. I shall be truly happy to hear that you are happy with another. You desire and now you are at liberty to recognise me or cut me just as you wish - but I give you my word of honour I shall act always as a Gentleman, towards you. We may meet yet, as my intentions of going to Lima are now at an end. I would have gone for your sake. Yes, I would have sacrificed all to have you with me, and to leave Glasgow and your friends you detested so very much. Think what your father would say if I sent him your letters for a perusal. Do you think he could sanction your breaking your promises. No, Madeleine, I leave your conscience to speak for itself. I flatter myself he can only accuse me of a want of fortune. But he must remember he too had to begin the world with dark clouds round him. 

I cannot put it into my mind that yet you are at the bottom of all this.

 

To: Madeleine
July ‘56 

My dearest and beloved Wife Mimi, 

Since I saw you I have been wretchedly sad. Would to God we had not met that night - I would have been happier. I am sad at what we did, I regret it very much. Why, Mimi, did you give way after your promises? My pet, it is a pity. Think of the consequences if I were never to marry you. What reproaches I should have, Mimi. I never shall be happy again. If ever I meet you again, love, it must be as at first. I will never again repeat what I did until we are regularly married. Try your friends once more - tell your determination - say nothing will change you, that you have thought seriously of it - and on that I shall firmly fix speaking to Huggins for Sepr. Unless you do something of that sort, Heaven only knows when I shall marry you. Unless you do, dearest, I shall have to leave the country; truly, dearest, I am in such a state of mind I do not care if I were dead. We did wrong. God forgive us for it. Mimi, we have loved blindly. It is your parents’ fault if shame is the result; they are to blame for it all. 

I got home quite saf e af ter leaving you, but I think it did my cold no good. I was fearfully excited the whole night. I was truly happy with you, my pet; too much so, for I am now too sad. I wish from the bottom of my heart we had never parted. Though we have sined, ask earnestly God's forgiveness and blessings that all the obstacles in our way may be removed from us. I was disappointed, my love, at the little you had to say, but I can understand why. You are not stupid, Mimi, and if you disappoint me in information, and I have cause to reproach you of it, you will have no one to blame but yourself, as I have given you warning long enough to improve yourself. Sometimes I do think you take no notice of my wishes and my desires, but say yes for mere matter of form. 

Mimi, unless Huggins helps me I cannot see how I shall be able to marry you for years. What misery to have such a future in one's mind. Do speak to your brother, open your heart to him, and try and win his friendship. Tell him if he loves you to take your part. And besides, my dear, if once you can trust, how pleasant it would be for you and me to meet. I could come over to Helonsburgh when you would be riding or driving, or of a Sunday (thought I stoped with the Whites) I could join you in a walk of a Sunday afternoon. Mimi, dearest, you must take a bold step to be my wife. I entreat you, pet, by the love you have for me, Mimi, do speak to your mother - tell her it is the last time you ever shall speak of me to her. You are right, Mimi, you cannot be the wife of any one else than me. I shall ever blame myself for what has taken place. I never never can be happy until you are my own, my dear fond wife. Oh! Mimi, be bold for once, do not fear them - tell them you are my wife before God. Do not let them leave you without being married, for I cannot answer what would happen. My conscience reproaches me of a sin that marriage can only efface. 

I can assure you it will be many days before I meet such nice people as the Seaverights, especially the daughter. I longed so much to have introduced you to her, to see the perfect Lady in her, and such an accomplished young person. My evenings, as you say, are very long and dreary. We must not be, separated all next winter, for I know, Mimi, you will be as giddy as last. You will be going to public balls, and that I cannot endure. On my honour, dearest, sooner than see you or hear of you running about as you did last, I would leave Glasgow myself. Though I have truly forgiven you, I do not forget the misery I endured for your sake. You know yourself how ill it made me if not, Mary can tell you, my pet. 

Dearest Mimi, let us meet again soon, but not as last time. See if you can plan anything for the Queen's birthday. I intend to be in Helensburgh some night to cross over with Miss White to Greenock. I could refuse stoping with them, and come up to see you, but I cannot fix the day, and as I do not know how to let you know except by sending a newspaper to B/, and the evening after the date of the newspaper would be the evening I would come, or tell me a better arrangement. Do you not think it would be best to meet you at the top of the Garden, same as last Summer? Remember, if the newspaper answers be sure and repeat the arrangement, that I may see we agree. 

My dear wife, I could not take you to Lima. No European women could live there. Besides, I would live 3 or 4 thousand miles from it, far from any white people, and no Drs. if you were ill or getting a baby. No if we marry I must stay in Glasgow until I get enough to live elsewhere. Besides, it would cost £300 alone for our bare passage money. 

I do not understand, my pet, your not bleeding, for every woman having her virginity must bleed. You must have done so some other time. Try to remember if you never hurt yourself in washing, &c. I am sorry you felt pain. I hope, pet, you are better. I trust, dearest, you will not be. Be sure and tell me immediately you are ill next time, and if at your regular period. I was not angry at your allowing me, Mimi, but I am sad it happened. You had no resolution. We should indeed have waited till we were married, Mimi. It was very bad indeed. I shall look with regret on that night. No, nothing except our Marriage will efface it from my memory. Mimi, only fancy if it was know. My dear, my pet, you would be dishonoured, and that by me! Oh! why was I born, my pet? I dread lest some great obstacle prevents our marriage. If Mary did know it, what should you be in her eyes? 

My Sisters' names are Anastasie and Elmire. I cannot help doubting your word about flirting. You promised me the same thing before you left for Edin., and you did nothing else during your stay there. You cared more for your friends than for me. I do trust you will give me no cause to find fault again with you on that score, but I doubt very much the siricerety of your promise. Mimi, the least thing I hear of you doing, that day shall be the last of our tie, that I swear. You are my wife, and I have the right to expect from you the behaviour of a married woman or else you have no honour in you; and more, you have no right to go any where but where a women could go with her husband. Oh! Mimi, let your conduct make me happy. Remember when you are good how truly happy it makes Emile - but remember this, and if you love me you will do nothing wrong. Dearest, your letter to Mary was very pretty and good. I thought a great deal of it, and I like its seriousness. Fancy how happy I was when Mary told me the other day how Mimi was improving fast; she could tell it by her letters. 

For Gods sake burn this, Mimi, for fear any thing happening to you, do dearest.

 

To: Madeleine
[Thursday 5th March 1857] 

My dear, sweet pet Mimi, 

I feel indeed very vexed that the answer I recd. yesterday to mine of Tuesday to you should prevent me from sending you the kind letter I had ready for you. You must not blame me, dear, for this, but really your cold, indifferent, and reserved notes, so short, without a particle of love in them (especially after pledging your word you were to write me kindly for those letters you asked me to destroy), and the manner you evaded answering the questions I put to you in my last, with the reports I hear, fully convince me, Mimi, that there is foundation in your marriage with another; besides, the way you put off our union till September without a just reason is very suspicious. 

I do not think, Mimi dear, that Mrs Anderson would say your mother told her things she had not, and really I could never believe Mr Houldsworth would be guilty of telling a falsehood for mere talking. No, Mimi, there is a foundation for all this. You often go to Mr. M’s house and common sense would lead anyone to believe that if you were not on the footing reports say you are you would avoid going near any of his friends. I know he goes with you, or at least meets you in Stirlingshire. Mimi, dear, place yourself in my position and tell me am I wrong in believing what I hear. I was happy the last time we met - yes, very happy. I was forgetting all the past, but now it is again beginning. 

Mimi, I insist in having an explicit answer to the questions you evaded in my last. If you evade answering them this time, I must try some other means of coming to the truth. If not answered in a satisfactory manner, you must not expect I shall again write you personally or meet you when you return home. I do not wish you to answer this at random. I shall wait a day or so if you require it. I know you cannot write me from Stirlingshire, as the time you have to write me a letter is occupied in doing so to others. There was a time you would have found plenty of time.

Answer me this, Mimi - Who gave you the trinket you showed me. Is it true it was Mr. Minnoch. And is it true that you are, directly or indirectly, engaged to Mr. Minnoch or to any one else but me. These questions I must know. 

The doctor says I must go to B. of A. I cannot travel 500 miles to the I. of W. and 500 back. What is your object in wishing me so very much to go south. I may not go to B. of A. till Wednesday; if I can avoid going I shall do so for your sake. I shall wait to hear from you. I hope, dear, nothing will happen to check the happiness we were again enjoying. 

May God bless you, Pet, and with many fond and tender embraces believe me with kind love your ever affte. husband,

Emile L’Angelier

 

To: Thomas Kennedy 

Dear Tom, 

I arrived safe, and feel a deal better; it is much warmer than Glasgow; the wind is south. I never saw finer weather. Ienclose you a P.O. Order, which please get cashed for me. Pens and ink, also wafers, are very scarce, and not to be had at present. 

In expectation of seeing you on Saturday, George M'Call bought a bottle of pickles, warranted free from copper. I shall be at the arrival of the train leaving Glasgow at 4.15 p.m. Drop a line if you are coming, or else you will have no dinner. 

Yours, &c.. Emile L’Angelier

 

To: T. Kennedy, Esq., W. B. Huggins & Go.,

Edinburgh, Monday. 

Dear Tom, 

We recd. your note on Saturday, and were very sorry to hear you were unwell and unable to come. In one respect it was lucky, as it poured all Saturday afternoon. 

I hear at Bridge of Allan it is very cold, and snow. I think I will start for there to-morrow. I dont feel so well as I did, but I think it is the want of sleep. I think the P.O. people beautifully ignorant, not to know a man's name from a woman's. I shall write to Oxford about it. 

I suppose I am not wanted yet; if I should be, let me know, please. Dont send any more letters to P.O. here after 10 a.m. to-morrow. 

Excuse haste, and believe me, your sincere friend, 

P. Emile L’Angelier

I recd. the letters you add'd. to me, and another to-day. 

 

To: Thuan 

Mon cher Monsieur, 

Je viens de recevoir la votre de Samedi, et je vous remercie de votre attention. Je compte venir coucher a Glasgow demain ainsi je vous prie de retenir mes depêches après ce soir. 

Ja me porte un peu mieux mais cela ne va pas comme je le vondrais. Je ne point de lettres de Mr. Mitchell, j’aurais bien voulu savoir ce qu’il me voulait. En vous serrant la main, je suis tout avous, 

Emile L’Angelier 

Lundi, 11 houres

 

To: Mary Perry
Bridge of Allan, 20th March. 

Dear Mary, 

I should have written to you before, but I am so lazy writing when, away from my ordinary ways. I feel much better, and I hope to be home the middle of next week. 

This is a very stupid place, very dull. I know no-one; and besides, it is so very much colder than Edin. I saw your friends at Portobello, and will tell you about them when I see you. I should have come to see someone last night, but the letter came too late, so we are both disappointed. Trusting you are quite well, and with kind regards to yourself and sister, 

Believe me, yours sincerely, 

P. Emile L’Angelier

I shall be here till Wednesday.


 
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