From Thomas Archer Hirst   Oct. 5th, 1856

14, Rue de la Mairie | à Pau. | Oct. 5^th, 1856

My dear John,

I was rejoiced to receive your letter¹ this morning for Anna and I had long wondered at your long silence and we began to fear that you had disappeared in one of those horrible four-hundred feet deep fissures. I often recalled your former adventures, and the fascination that bodily peril always had for you, until I began to feel some anxiety at your silence. I consoled myself generally, however, by reflecting that there always was a certain higher prudence even in your recklessness, and that there were many other assignable reasons for your silence. Thank God however you are safe home again, and I shall hear from you more frequently. I approved highly of your glacier journey the moment you mentioned it to me; it was calculated to satisfy all your wants, scientific, mental and physical. I trust you have returned home with bodily strength enough to carry you through the winter, & that the scientific fruits of your journey will be at any rate sufficient in your own eyes to banish the thought that any time was lost. I have no doubt a description of your journey would sell;² I know one who would read it with pleasure whether in print or manuscript. Indeed you will, I hope, give me many accounts of your rambles by letter as it will be long perhaps before we can talk together about them. Tell me above all some particulars of your scientific observations and your intentions respecting them.

We left Biarrits about a fortnight ago, and are now quietly settled in our winter residence.³ I cannot say that Biarrits was beneficial to Anna; she never liked the place, and was glad to leave it. Her health fluctuates very much, sometimes she is better, sometimes worse than she was in England; on the average I think we may say she is about the same. For the last few days there has been a decided improvement in her strength, spirits and appetite, and this leads us to hope that Pau may be beneficial to her. We have taken a pretty little ‘apartment meuble, au premier’.⁴ It consist of a salon, sale-à-manger, and kitchen, and three very small bedrooms which are, in fact, mere alcoves two of which open into the salon and are occupied by myself and Anna; and the third opens into the dining room and is intended for John Martin whom we expect daily. For this accommodation we pay 900 francs (£36) for the season of 8 months; and although far more expensive than I anticipated when in England, I have the satisfaction to know that we could not have obtained lodgings in Pau for less. Besides this we have a servant to whom we pay £1 a month; she takes her meals with us, and sleeps ‘chez elle’.⁵ Here too we have been fortunate; we took the first servant who presented herself and so far she has proved herself to be an honest, faithful girl. Moreover she has taken a great liking to Anna and nurses her affectionately. She is a Bearnese girl,⁶ and she amuses herself often by teaching Anna to say a few words in her own patois. When she leaves us at night she bids me ‘Bon soir, Monsieur,’ in good French, but to Anna she says ‘ally shat’,⁷ and smiles pleasantly when Anna returns the greeting in her own words. Pau is a lovely place as far as its situation is concerned. In five minutes we can be in the Place Royal, which is a fine square planted with trees and abundantly provided with wooden seats. In the centre is a fine statue of old Henri IV.⁸ The view from the south side of it is as fine as any I ever saw. Two hundred feet below you is the rapid river Gave, which flows westward to the sea through a beautiful and fertile valley. Immediately on the other side of this river the Pyrenees may be said to begin. In the foreground are bold but not lofty hills, well wooded to their tops, and here and there amongst the trees may be perceived quaint picturesque old chateaux, like gems set in emerald; beyond these rise other hills, each growing more barren, more rugged and more blue in succession, until at last high up in the bright blue sky are the glittering while peaks of the summits of the Pyrenees. Not satisfied with this magnificent panorama visible to the bodily eye, ever-craving fancy descends beyond the snowy peaks to imaginary vineyards of Spain. Immediately to the South, when looking from the Place Royal, the eye rests with delight upon the boldest peak which is detached from the rest and looks like a mighty sugar loaf chopped down the middle with a mightier axe; it is the Pic du Midi d’Ossan – the highest mountain but one of the range. The highest, the Pic du Midi de Bigorre, closes the view eastward, and from being surrounded by other high mountains is less bold and striking. This is enough about the beauties of Pau though I could easily write more. Now and then, Anna being unable to walk far, we hire a gig and horse and trot up some of the lovely branch valleys that lead from the broader valley of the Gave towards the mountains. These were treats indeed to both of us but our last trip had nearly been fraught with serious consequences. The horses they let out to hire are miserable creatures. I have scarcely seen one without broken knees. On Friday last I observed as usual that our horse had been accustomed ‘to praying’ on the highroads, and consequently I was, as usual, very careful, so much so that we accomplished our journey outwards without a stumble. On our return, however, when about 5 miles from Pau on a beautiful level piece of road (the horse going at a jog trot) I looked for a moment on one side to admire some object or other, and in a second down came the brute, not merely on his knees but on his side. The gig did not overturn but we were both pitched out over the dash-board. I miraculously alighted of my feet – like Tidmarsh in the celebrated crash at Northowram⁹ – and to my horror I saw Anna thrown with her head on the horse and made to turn a complete somersault. I had her in my arms almost as soon as she reached the ground and would you believe it, she was not in the least hurt, her bonnet even was scarcely bruised, and she was calm and collected in a moment. An umbrella which she had had to protect her from the glaring sun she still held in her hand. She insisted she was not hurt, but I could not at the time believe her; I thought her calmness and presence of mind unnatural, and dreaded a relapse might come. All this happened in far less time than you can read it, and a struggle of the prostrate horse reminded me that I must seize his head and keep him down, or with his struggles he would dash the gig to pieces. This I did, and Anna took up a gig cushion, and seated herself on some stones on the roadside and watched me and a good-natured farmer, who had just passed us and came galloping back to our assistance, extricate the poor horse. This done, we mounted again and drove very slowly and very carefully home. Anna continued quite well and even lovely; my nerves appeared to have sustained a far severer shock than hers. For a day or two I looked anxiously for bad consequences of our upset, but no, they did not appear, and as, indeed, she has continued to improve ever since I can look back upon our accident as an adventure merely and from it learn caution for the future. It was the umbrella, I believe, which saved Anna; it was bruised terribly, it had an iron stem which was bent into a right angle, and altogether it looked as little like an umbrella after its fall as one could well conceive. Our good Bearnese was horrified when we told her the story, she too could not believe that Anna had sustained no injury. After assisting her to take off her shawl and bonnet she looked at her with wonder and kindness and ejaculated, ‘Vraiment Dieu a vous aimé’.¹⁰

And now a word about myself. I have, as you will readily conceive, been much occupied with Anna night and day since we left England. In the few hours per day that I could call my own I have worked at my mathematics. I have taken up my old work on attracting bodies,¹¹ completed much that was unfinished, improved upon what was done, and pushed my investigations a little further. I have plenty of work before me, to which I have cut out the road. I could at any time complete a little notice for publication, but I postpone doing so from a wish not to let what I have done go from me until I have worked more at kindred subjects so as to feel sure that my treatment of the problem is good. As long as I can make what I have done more complete or improve upon it I will keep it by me. Since I left Biarrits I have occupied myself exclusively with the subject of determinants,¹² a subject which I must master. I am doing so though with great labour. The only treatise I possess is one by Spottiswoode,¹³ published by Crelle.¹⁴ It is one of the most confused things I ever read in mathematical literature, full of misprints, of the gravest kind, and full of looseness on the author’s part. I expect an English edition by the same author shortly which I hope will lighten my labour. Nevertheless I already feel that my great labour will be beneficial. I have had absolutely to discover theorems for myself so that out of a bad book one can get great good. Probably I should not have had my present practical insight into the subject had the treatise been more correct and lucid. ‘It is an ill wind that blows good to nobody.’¹⁵

John Martin will be here soon, and I shall have more time at my disposal. But I must devote an hour a day to lucrative employment. I do not forget your advice on the subject and still less your brotherly offer of pecuniary help. But with no definite prospect of repayment and with the probability before me that my expences may increase, I should be far more at ease if I were earning a little, and more especially as there is an opportunity of doing so here in a manner congenial to my tastes. Several people have assured me I may obtain a private pupil or two in mathematics who will be glad to pay me well. It very often happens that young fellows, intended for the army, or University, are compelled by circumstances to accompany an invalid relative hither, and such would be glad to continue their studies. You may tell me it would be better to retrench a little than spend some of my hours thus. Believe me, I have considered that subject carefully. I am economizing as much as I consider prudent, under the circumstances – I will not enter into particulars – and still my income will not suffice. Now I want you like a good fellow to send me a testimonial stating my capability to give lessons in Mathematics, and Natural Philosophy, for being a perfect stranger here some certificate of the kind will be necessary. I will ask Edmondson for one also, but I will not promise to use it. As stating my position at Queenwood it might be of some service, but if it bore traces of the weakness of the Principal of Queenwood¹⁶ it would in the end be useless and I would prefer putting it into the fire to using it.

From Queenwood I have good news. Smith¹⁷ appears to give satisfaction, and everything to be going on as usual. Wright writes to me often, and his letters are like himself, plain, straightforward, kind and good. Wright is a worthy fellow, indeed, his tendencies are always to the honest, the beautiful, and the noble. Debus too wrote me an excellent letter a short time ago. He is longing to see you, and I hope you will run down and see how matters are going on. I should like your report of it all. Remember me kindly to Heinrich, and tell him I will answer his kind letter shortly. To Wright and Mrs Wright remember us also affectionately, and give them the latest news of us and the assurance that they will hear directly from us before long. To Bevington and to Francis do likewise.

To yourself Anna sends her love with mine. She read your letter with pleasure and would gladly read more of your adventures on the glaciers. With our best wishes for your health and experimental prosperity, I remain,

Yours affectionately, | T.A. Hirst

P.S. Wynne,¹⁸ I was sorry to learn, did not pass his examination. I hope he will gain experience from his failure and succeed next time. He must not think too slightly of the difficulties before him. Remember me kindly to him and to the Colonel.¹⁹

RI MS JT/1/H/228