Whether you’re with somebody special or not for Valentine’s Day, just remember: you can try, but you will probably never be as smooth as these star-stuck lovers. Read these letters and go back to a time where the most romantic gesture you could make was pouring your heart out over paper.
John Keats is remembered as one of the greatest Romantic poets of England, but his real life was pretty poetic as well. He met his neighbour Fanny Brawne in 1818 and the two fell madly in love, but marriage was off the table until he was more financially stable. In 1820 Keats began to display symptoms of tuberculosis, which had killed both his mother and his brother, and left for Italy on the advice of his physician. He did not write to Fanny again, perhaps because he knew he would not see her again. He died in 1821 at the age of 25, and Fanny remained in mourning for 6 years. Here’s an excerpt of what he wrote to her on October 13h, 1819.
My dearest Girl,
This moment I have set myself to copy some verses out fair. I cannot proceed with any degree of content. I must write you a line or two and see if that will assist in dismissing you from my Mind for ever so short a time. Upon my Soul I can think of nothing else – The time is passed when I had power to advise and warn you again[s]t the unpromising morning of my Life – My love has made me selfish. I cannot exist without you – I am forgetful of every thing but seeing you again – my Life seems to stop there – I see no further…I should be exquisitely miserable without the hope of soon seeing you. I should be afraid to separate myself far from you. My sweet Fanny, will your heart never change? My love, will it? I have no limit now to my love – You note came in just here – I cannot be happier away from you…Love is my religion – I could die for that – I could die for you. My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet – You have ravish’d me away by a Power I cannot resist: and yet I could resist till I saw you; and even since I have seen you I have endeavoured often “to reason against the reasons of my Love.” I can do that no more – the pain would be too great – My Love is selfish – I cannot breathe without you.
Yours for ever John Keats
2. Emma Darwin
Emma married her first cousin, Charles Darwin, in 1839, and they often shared several heated discussions about religion and science. Emma was a Unitarian whereas Charles was agnostic, but this didn’t stop them from staying together and having ten children until his death in 1882. This letter was written after Darwin was accused of heresy by the British clergy for his theory of evolution.
I cannot tell you the compassion I have felt for all your sufferings for these weeks past that you have had so many drawbacks. Nor the gratitude I have felt for the cheerful & affectionate looks you have given me when I know you have been miserably uncomfortable.
My heart has often been too full to speak or take any notice I am sure you know I love you well enough to believe that I mind your sufferings nearly as much as I should my own & I find the only relief to my own mind is to take it as from God’s hand, & to try to believe that all suffering & illness is meant to help us to exalt our minds & to look forward with hope to a future state. When I see your patience, deep compassion for others self command & above all gratitude for the smallest thing done to help you I cannot help longing that these precious feelings should be offered to Heaven for the sake of your daily happiness…
I feel in my inmost heart your admirable qualities & feelings & all I would hope is that you might direct them upwards, as well as to one who values them above every thing in the world. I shall keep this by me till I feel cheerful & comfortable again about you but it has passed through my mind often lately so I thought I would write it partly to relieve my own mind.
3. Oscar Wilde
A renowned playwright and poet, snappy dresser Oscar Wilde is perhaps most famous for his novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray. Wilde was imprisoned for two years for gross indecency (in this case referring to sodomy) in 1895, due to actions by his lover’s father, the Marquess of Queensbury. Wilde had begun proceedings to sue the Marquess for libel, until proof appeared of his homosexuality. Upon his release, Wilde and his lover, Lord Alfred Douglas, attempted to live together again, until the threat of being cut off financially forced them to stop. Wilde died of meningitis in Paris in 1900. This letter was written the night before Wilde’s final trial.
My dearest boy,
This is to assure you of my immortal, my eternal love for you. Tomorrow all will be over. If prison and dishonour be my destiny, think that my love for you and this idea, this still more divine belief, that you love me in return will sustain me in my unhappiness and will make me capable, I hope, of bearing my grief most patiently. Since the hope, nay rather the certainty, of meeting you again in some world is the goal and the encouragement of my present life, ah! I must continue to live in this world because of that.
4. Frida Kahlo
Best known for her incredible paintings, Kahlo also had quite a romantic streak. She had a turbulent twenty-seven year relationship with her husband and fellow painter Diego Riviera (both of them had multiple affairs), but their passion for one another was undeniable. Here’s an example:
Diego. Truth is, so great, that I wouldn’t like to speak, or sleep, or listen, or love. To feel myself trapped, with no fear of blood, outside time and magic, within your own fear, and your great anguish, and within the very beating of your heart. All this madness, if I asked it of you, I know, in your silence, there would be only confusion. I ask you for violence, in the nonsense, and you, you give me grace, your light and your warmth. I’d like to paint you, but there are no colors, because there are so many, in my confusion, the tangible form of my great love.
F.
5. Victor Hugo
Writer of The Hunchback of Notre Dame and Les Miserables, Hugo’s romantic life was a lot happier than those of his characters. He fell in love with Adele Foucher when she was seventeen, and although both families opposed the match, they wrote to one another for three years in secret. Hugo received a pension for his loyalty to King Louis XVIII which allowed the couple to marry, and they remained together for the next 46 years (although not exactly monogamously). Here is part of a letter he wrote to her in 1820:
A few words from you, my beloved Adèle, have again changed my state of mind. Yes, you can do anything with me; and to-morrow, were I even dead, the sweet tones of your voice, the tender pressure of your lips, would call me back to life again… Oh no! My whole existence is devoted to her, shall be hers in spite of herself. And by what right have I aspired to win her love? Am I more than an angel or a deity? I love her, it is true — I — even I! I am ready for her sake to sacrifice everything with joy — even the hope that she may love me; there is no a limit to the devotion for her that I am capable of; for one of her looks, for one of her smiles. But could I do otherwise? Is she not the one supreme object in my life? If she shows me indifference, if she even hates me, it will be my misfortune — that is all. What matter can it be, since it does not impair her happiness?…Then is it true you love me, Adele? Tell me, may I put faith in that most ravishing idea? Does it not strike you that I might become mad with joy if I could pass my whole life at your feet, sure of making you as happy as I should be myself; sure of being adored by you, even as I adore you? Oh! your letter has given me back peace; your words this evening filled me with happiness. Receive my thanks a thousand times ; Adele, my beloved angel, I should like to kneel before you as I would before a divinity. How happy you have made me ! Adieu, adieu! I shall have a happy night dreaming of you.