1882. Mary Russell Mitford to EBB
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 10, 154–155.
Three Mile Cross
April 10, 1845.
Mine own Love,
I have had a wandering poetess here to-day. She and her mother are driving about the land in a pony-chaise, selling, for five shillings, books typographically worth about eightpence—poetically, good for nothing. The mamma asks one to patronize her daughter—one’s “fellow-poetess”—and won’t go till she has got the money. She wanted to pay you a visit, “having heard your name at Bear Wood.” [1] Of course I stopped that, and, as they are going westward, there is no danger of any incursion. I gave both ladies some very good advice, which will very certainly not be taken; for such conceit, such ignorance, above all, such total ignorance of the state of literature at this time I never encountered. They asked me for a book to teach the art of poetry—a book of rules, as in arithmetic. For certain, the young lady wants one; she makes “reign” rhyme to “name;” “line” to “lime,” and so on, and is, by very far, too vain and self-absorbed ever to do better. She has not an atom of the enthusiasm of youth, and admires nobody but herself. But think of the impudence of stopping at the door of everybody, whose name they ever heard, and demanding five shillings, before it is possible to get quit of them! Their first step was to put their horse in the stable and demand hay and corn. Nothing but pen and ink could inspire such surpassing assurance.
Poor Dr. Baines! [2] I have been inexpressibly affected by hearing from Mr. Bonomi that, on the very last day of his honoured life, when returning from Bristol, he had said to him, “Now that we are quiet again we will write and ask Miss Mitford to come to Prior Park for a week or ten days.” I never saw any man so perfectly interesting, not merely from talent, but from simplicity and goodness. There was a mixture of playfulness and bonhomie most enchanting. And he liked me—one always finds out that, and was kinder than I have words to tell. You can hardly imagine, my dearest Emily, [3] how much his death has saddened Bath to me. I had been exceedingly disappointed in the town itself—its deadness and dullness—the cold colour and the monotony of the buildings. Any one accustomed to London must have that feeling; but Prior Park redeemed all. Did you go there? Mr. Bonomi is coming to me on his return from his relatives at York; and I think the establishment will continue. But the guiding spirit is gone. You would have loved Dr. Baines.
There have been, doubtless, difficulties of all sorts during the last unprecedented month of March. Even the violets have been not only late, but scarce; and yet what enjoyment I have had in getting them!
Ever your own,
M.R.M.
Text: L’Estrange (2), III, 197–198.
1. The home of the Walter family who lived near Miss Mitford (see letter 1373).
2. As previously noted (see letter 1247), Peter Augustine Baines was a popular Roman Catholic prelate (and founder of Prior Park College) whom Miss Mitford had admired so much that several of her friends, including EBB, had been afraid that she might embrace Catholicism. Bishop Baines was known as a powerful and elegant speaker (DNB). The Rev. John Bonomi was secretary to Dr. Baines.
3. Sic, a slip of the pen. Emily E. Jephson of Castle Martyr, Ireland, was a frequent correspondent of Miss Mitford.
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