Royal Institution | Albemarle Street London | 3rd April 1859
My dear Tom
I tried to commence two or three things this morning. I tried various portions of my work, but I do not find that my brain possesses its maximum power and clearness, and as I am unwilling to write a book which does not express my whole strength my project this morning was unsatisfactory. It is no compliment to you to say that I turn to you under these circumstances—still I know you will not be unwilling to read a line from John though only a fraction of John’s spirit may pervade it.
I would have written to you long ago had it not been for circumstances which neither you nor I could have anticipated; and which disturbed me for a time as a tempest shakes the trees of autumn. I waited until I should right my boughs and wash my draggled leaves before appearing in your presence. Sufficient calm at lengths has come, and I will sketch for you a swift picture of what has taken place, waiting until we meet for the full development & filling in of the outline
You know what my feeling were when I wrote to you last1— It is my lot to inform you that they are very different now. You have some idea of my relationship to the people2 whom I mentioned to you at Saas,3 but you have a very imperfect idea of the affection and the tenderness with which I saw, or thought I saw myself treated. Every thing went as merry as a marriage bell—I was incessantly with them. This bearing towards me was the subject of common remark—on the benches of the Royal Institution the audience talked to each other regarding their demeanors towards me there—strange to say the lady4 so behaved as to leave the general impression that they made advances to me and not I to them—which indeed was substantially the correct impression. At length things went so far that some of the lady’s friends5 warned her regarding her conduct. Her replies to them were circulated and were highly unsatisfactory to me—I wrote to her on the subject,6 stating however my belief that it was all false—she replied denying the proper part of the rumours that were circulated, and at the same time repeated to me with consummate coolness the selfsame tale, regarding the preoccupation of her daughter’s affections which I mentioned to you at Saas.7 For a month previous I had noticed many things which displeased & pained me. I noticed a love of amusement which I had not observed before, and some little differences occurred between us. But still the evidences of affection were so strong that I overlooked all, and should as soon have doubted the light of the sun as their truth and goodness—But here came the reiteration of the old tale; I was expected to remain with them for ever as their dear and valued friend—and it was assumed that I should continue to write to them and continue to visit them just as usual.
Well this letter8 let light in upon my mind, but it was the light of lightning which reveals us our bad work. At all events—I saw in this woman whose open affection for me had stupefied me, a being unworthy of my slightest regard. My course was to maintain a dignified silence and to have no more to do with them. She wrote to me—I sent her letter back unopened. Her daughter9 wrote to me10 entreating me to send her mother one line of kindness, but her letters11 revealed to me at the same time what I do not like to mention. Still I wished to give the woman an opportunity of clearing herself if she could, and I complied with her daughters request. She did not clear herself—but revealed still more to me the rottenness of the seed upon which I had based my trust. Again and again she wrote to me—she came herself to my lodgings, but I was not at home. At length I told her sufficient of my mind12 to let her understand clearly how I regarded her conduct. I have not heard from her since.
The storm as I have said is passed—and my friends rejoice in my liberation, for I now find that they long dreaded the consummation. I am getting on with my work, and enjoy a solid peace of mind, and a stronger hope of being useful in the world than I have entertained for the last two years. I will now pause—When I see you I will tell you all, and you will then see that my mistake was natural
Yours ever affectionately | J. Tyndall
RI MS JT/1/T/649
I wrote to you last: letter missing.
The people: this likely refers to Maria Drummond and three daughters, in particular Mary Drummond, as well as Mrs Barlow. Tyndall courted Mary for a period in 1858 (see for example letter to Hirst: Volume 6, letters 1564 and 1576). In a journal entry for Sunday 3 April 1859, Tyndall recalled that he had attended a gathering hosted by Mrs Barlow the previous Friday, which was also attended by the Drummonds. It is unclear if it is Friday 1 April or Friday 25 March. In his journal entry for 3 April 1859, Tyndall recorded that an incident had taken place at “Mrs Barlow’s on Friday evening last” (Journal, RI MS/JT/2/13c/1156), between himself and the Drummonds. See also letter 1597.
Saas: Tyndall travelled to Saas-Fee, the main village of the Saas Valley in the Swiss canton of Valais in August 1858 (Volume 6, letter 1489, n. 33).
the lady: likely refers to Maria rather than Mary Drummond.
the lady’s friends: not identified.
I wrote to her on the subject: letter missing.
regarding the preoccupation of her daughter’s affections which I mentioned to you at Saas: Maria Drummond wrote to Tyndall about his relationship with her daughter Mary Drummond, and Tyndall recorded their exchange in letters to Hirst (Volume 6, letters 1564 and 1576) where Tyndall seemingly expressed an uneasiness about the tone taken by Maria towards him.
This letter: letter missing.
Her daughter: Mary.
wrote to me: letter missing.
her letters: letter missing.
At length I told her sufficient of my mind: this letter is missing and the date of the meeting is not identified.
Please cite as “Tyndall1604,” in Ɛpsilon: The John Tyndall Collection accessed on