651. EBB to Mary Russell Mitford
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 4, 56–59.
Wimpole Street.
Tuesday. [3 July 1838] [1]
Your note my very dear friend “burns the stick that whips the pig” [2] —impels the impulse towards writing to you, which I felt before it reached me. For I wanted to tell you how Lady Dacre came here on Sunday & how I was able to see her, & what a pleasure the seeing was. Unfortunately & most unusually our drawing room happened to be full when she called here .. some old friends from the country having drawn a whole congregation of my brother’s together [3] —so that the hum of many voices made mine I fear more inaudible than it need have been, & a little hindered conversation. But I could hear Lady Dacre, & delighted in hearing her & felt the full pleasure & pride of making her acquaintance at last. It was very kind & quite unexpected that she should come again after my sombre & forbidding account of myself—but she said—she thought she would give me a little time to get better & then make another attempt. I was pleased unexpectedly too in another way. Notwithstanding all that you said & all that Mr Kenyon said, I had an idea suggested by what I had heard elsewhere & unconfessed to either of you that in seeing Lady Dacre I should see a woman of the masculine gender, with her genius very prominent in eccentricity of manner & sentiment—an idea the more admissible to my mind, as the only literary woman I ever knew—except one who is one—was Lady Mary Shepherd whose kindness & terribleness I equally remember. [4] There is no terribleness in Lady Dacre, to confront her kindness—no keenness of eye or speech, or intent to dazzle by either—but as much gentleness & womanlyness as if she could be content with being loved. And that is what I like in a woman—yes, and in a man too, I like this spirit of it. I mean that I do not like in man or woman the constant carrying about of an intellect rampant, like a crest! as if thinking were a better thing than loving!——
Well—but without a dissertation—how could I help being pleased with Lady Dacre, or rather won by her, when she said so much about you—when she told me how she had brought together the cleverest people to meet you, & how you were the Queen of all—& how she delighted in your frankness—& how she was indignant that Lady Morgan’s pension shd be larger than yours [5] (when mere amusement was the end & object of her writings)—& how the question as to the continuance of yours was carried by acclamation, & how at the reading of your note a tear was seen to trickle even from Mr Grote’s eye! [6] “This” she continued “was, indeed to draw iron tears down Pluto’s cheek” [7] – And all this was, of course, to please me very much. But she paid an undeserved compliment to my fortunes in fancying you an old friend of mine. Yet I did not feel much abashed for them, in replying—“Not an old friend, but a dear friend”—dearness being better than oldness, which anyone may have for waiting for!–
I saw too on Sunday, Mr Crosse the insect-maker!—who can write fervent verses besides. [8] Nobody can be more ignorant, nor you more indifferent about science than I am—and yet I thanked Mr Kenyon (in my heart) for letting me see this Talked-about by all talkers, and I think I shd like him too, in defiance of acid & alkali. There is a curious contrast of quietness & energy in his deportment—perfect silence for ten minutes, & then a spasmodic outburst of speech & gesticulation, as if he could not hold any more thought.
I told Mr Kenyon some little time since that he was “bidden” to Three Mile Cross [9] —but he seemed to doubt whether he cd go; & when I proposed his going with Mr Southey on his way to Normandy, begged to know whether I had ever been taught geography. (I was thinking of Southhampton, & he was’nt.)– And then on Sunday, he talked of transmigrating to Wales for a week—“On your way to Miss Mitford?—” “No”—again! But still I dont think that he will be finally able to resist looking in upon you this summer.
Oh yes! we were very very kind, to be sure, in being pleased with your geraniums—& in being grateful besides to you & Dr Mitford for the promise about the dahlias. That sort of kindness is not hard to meet with– Is it, dearest Miss Mitford?
I was given into the safe keeping of Digitalis yesterday, for my pulse which keeps pace with the Wild Huntsman [10] —and it is tamer today; & Dr Chambers goes on to think me in a better state upon the whole. If it be God’s will I may emerge into health yet—and if not, I would hope from His grace that no wish of mine or of those dearest to me may cross His other will. The only wrong—kindest wrong!—which the living have ever done me, is in attaching me too much to life by an affection & tenderness which were I to live very long I never cd repay.
Do keep the Examiner, as you care for doing so– [11] And thank you for caring to do so!– It would seem quite like a dream that you shd care so much for me, if it were not an incontestable reality that I love you dearly—and love, you know, will witness for love. It grieves me that another indisposition of however transient a character should have been harrassing you,—& you, obliged to write notwithstanding it!– Do take care of yourself. But your health is improved—a blessing to more than you!—& you have the better blessing (to yourself) of seeing Dr Mitford tolerably well—may it be, better & better! And do say to him a little of what I feel thankfully & affectionately for his kind feeling towards me. It is so kind to care to please me, as you tell me he does. Why the very knowing that your father has such a care, is made to please me of itself!——
Here must be room for Papa’s regards & those of all of us. How inconsiderate to crowd such a lengthy letter in among the rest & when you have just told me of their multitude! But we of the coronation are used to crowds, & inclined to count being squeezed to death among the luxuries of life. Everybody except myself & our housekeeper who cannot walk, went out of this house to see the sight—& Sette was on his feet, Queen-devoted, for thirteen hours. [12]
Ever dearest Miss Mitford’s
affectionate EBB.
Did you see the notice for Miss Landon’s marriage? [13] I have written to Mr Townsend. The more I read some of his poems, the more deeply I feel their beauty. [14] I did read the romance of Mr Osggood. [15]
Addressed and franked by Matt Bell on integral page: London July five 1838 / Miss Mitford / Three Mile Cross / Reading / Matt Bell / [and in EBB’s hand on reverse when folded:] Miss Mitford / Three Mile Cross / near Reading.
Publication: EBB-MRM, I, 79–82.
Manuscript: Wellesley College.
1. Dated by the frank.
2. A slight misrendering of “The Old Woman and Her Pig,” a folk-story describing a series of consequential actions, such as pouring “water that quenches the fire, that burns the stick, that whips the dog.”
3. In a letter to Miss Mitford, 26 October 1841, EBB explained that “in addition to our ordinary household” there were “country neighbours of Irish extraction” (Mrs. and Miss Cliffe) and EBB’s cousins, “the Mr. Clarkes of Kinnersley castle.”
4. For further comments by EBB on Lady Mary, see letters 653 and 713.
5. A few weeks before Miss Mitford’s pension of £100 per annum was granted, one of £300 p.a. had been awarded to Lady Morgan (Sydney Owenson), the Irish novelist.
6. George Grote (1794–1871), poet and historian. He sat in the House of Commons from 1832 to 1841, but did not then seek re-election, devoting himself instead to his monumental History of Greece, begun as early as 1822, published in stages from 1846 to 1856.
7. Cf. Milton, “Il Penseroso” (1673), line 107.
8. EBB must have seen Crosse’s poems by courtesy of Kenyon, either in manuscript or some privately-printed volume, as there is no formal record of publication of his poetry prior to his widow’s Memorials, Scientific and Literary, of Andrew Crosse, the Electrician (1857).
9. See letter 643.
10. The title of one of Scott’s earliest poems (1796), an imitation of “Der wilde Jäger” (1786) by Gottfried Augustus Bürger (1748–94).
11. See letter 648, note 2.
12. Victoria’s coronation took place on 28 June 1838.
13. The Times, 23 June 1838: “On the 7th inst., at St. Mary’s, Bryanston-square, by the Rev. Whittington H. Landon, M.A., Letitia Elizabeth, only daughter of the late John Landon, Esq., to George Maclean, Esq., Governor of the Cape Coast, eldest son of the Rev. James Maclean of Urquhart, Elgin.”
14. See letter 647, note 3.
15. “Mr.” is either a slip of the pen or EBB is confusing “Frances” and “Francis,” as the reference must be to Frances Sargent Osgood (née Locke, 1811–50), American poet and author of A Wreath of Wild Flowers from New England (1838); EBB’s reference to “the romance” may have been to “Elfrida, A Dramatic Poem in Five Acts” contained in this volume. Mrs. Osgood was a contributor to the 1839 Findens’ Tableaux.
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