2741. EBB to Henrietta Moulton-Barrett
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 15, 115–117.
Florence– Palazzo Guidi.
Monday– July 17. [1848] [1]
My dearest Henrietta, Do the little notes always go to Arabel? Well, here’s a little one to keep the peace & prove that it is’nt quite so– I write at noon on monday—& at seven we are off to Fano, on the Adriatic .. look out for it on the map– We have taken the coupé of the diligence to Arezzo, shall travel all night for the coolness & the moon lightedness & the delightfulness, (I have persuaded Robert into the night-work, because really the sun is past bearing) arrive at Arezzo at five in the morning, go to bed & take a complete rest, & continue our journey .. we dont exactly know how (by the diligence if possible) through San Sepolchro, Urbino to Fano, along the great Apennine road which is said to be magnificent. We mean to try to get into some sort of cheap nest at Fano, & go from thence to the Sinigaglia-fair—when it is at the best & back again– The mountain-air & sea-air will do us infinite good, & we only take with us two carpet-bags, leaving our rooms under the care of the porter .. & shall come back sooner or later, just as we care to stay or return .. or perhaps just as we can afford to stay or return. Very vexed I am to go without another letter from you– Arabel’s dear one, I received—the one before seems quite lost, but we may recover it some day .. & I did hope to have another—before leaving Florence. Such niggardly people as you are about letters, never were, I think. Now, write—& direct as usual to Florence– I will write to Arabel from Fano. Dont you write to me there, lest we should have shifted our plans: and then I have no faith whatever in those barbaric posts. Write to Florence as usual–
What makes me write this scrap of note, is to correct something said by me in my last letter– I said “Dont send my pictures”—by which I meant everything except Papa’s picture [2] —but Papa’s, I particularly want, & shall hang it up in my bedroom opposite the bed. Let it be carefully packed & sent–
So much for business– Sophia Cottrell has a little daughter, [3] or rather a great daughter, they say, ..
<…> [4]
Robert saw Count Cottrell yesterday & heard that she was doing perfectly well– We like him better & better, & have every reason for being obliged to his practical knowledge & kindly disposition– The Leys went off to Leghorn on saturday & remain there a month previous to their embarkation for England—Mr Ley loathing Italy to the last. They go home by sea the whole way, and Mr Tulk goes with them .. & the Miss Tulks go with Mr Tulk—so that poor Sophia will be left alone in her Italian home. She is very happy notwithstanding, so let nobody pity her. I am vexed not to have seen Louisa—& when you see her in England, say how vexed. Mr Tulk & his sisters talk of a possible return to Florence. We had a visit from him yesterday, & he looked wonderfully better again, & has quite recovered his memory. Some of the servants told Wilson that Mr Ley bought a hundred & forty pictures .. at which Robert & I could not really help laughing! There’s an artistic phrenzy-fit for you–
My poem is’nt a ‘Dream of Tuscany’, if you please, but a “Meditation in Tuscany”. It was begun in this very palazzo Guidi last autumn, & finished in the winter– I shall do something better some day–
Wilson went to see a friend of hers yesterday at the Princess of Parma’s villa,—when the little princess, about two years old, [5] burst away from a troop of ladies, & rushed into Wilson’s arms to her infinite discomfiture—clasped her knees, & siezed hold of her parasol. The Duc de Bordeaux’s little niece, you remember .. and, poor child, it had’nt learnt its unnatural lesson of majesty. The ladies in waiting laughed.
We give up the monasteries for this year—there will be enough without them. Think of Eliza Cliffe– [6] Let Arabel write my love to her, if she writes– The description of her is not very charming—but when a woman grows fat & red to that extremity, & wears her hair in bandeaux, there must be an end of her, I should think. No—it’s impertinence of me to write such things—and dear Eliza is a good warm[-]hearted creature whom I heartily wish all good to. She never appears to advantage in London, observe .. even with a husband who plays dumbie & lets her talk.—
You scarcely mentioned dearest Trippy, & I long to hear of her– Give her my best, best love– Is Arabel’s cold well? Robert has had influenza, & was quite unwell for some days—he is recovered however, thank God–
Is it possible that the Hedleys would live at such a place as Clifton– Why not wait till France settles, which it will .. & I fear into a bed of fleurs de lis, .. (I “despair of the republic” though Robert does’nt quite—) if they wont come to Florence where they wd be absolutely safe & undisturbed– Then, for the fear of warm climate in the summer, nothing can be less reasonable—when the mountains, with snow scarcely melted on them, are girding us round. It is said to be as cool as in Switzerland at Pratolino which is an hour’s drive from Florence. The Baths of Lucca are both cool & warm I believe, according to the situation of your house there, so I dont speak of them. It is a great pity that the Hedleys dont come here till France is ready for them—& they might steam it down the Rhine without an effort, even were Marseilles not open, which really it is. They never, never will like Clifton—& I shd doubt the influence of the fogs from the river– Say how she is—mind– Not a word of the Reynolds’s– Has Arlette melted away from the world on a sudden? Good, kind Lady Bolingbroke!– I dare say you had spoken of her in the lost letter– My love to all round .. though some have found it so very easy to forget me– God bless you all as I love you & beyond– Speak of Papa always,
Your ever attached Ba–
Love to all who remember me—to the Cooks .. & Mary Minto .. & Mrs Orme– Does she ask after me ever?
Love to dear dear Minny– Let me hear about Crow–
I do hope that poor Papa is mistaken in his apprehensions of the results of the ministerial measure .. I do hope it– Tell me what he says now, & how his spirits are– How long did S Barrett stay with you—& when does he go & settle? Oh, that lost letter– Everything was in it. Robert’s best love always.
[Continued on a separate slip of paper]
Private.
My much loved Henrietta, how you cd ever dream of setting up your husband—(potentially speaking) as a stipendary magistrate, in Ireland, to be shot at .. I cant understand. I wd rather take care of the convicts– May God bless & prosper you—it is grievous that the prosperity does’nt come faster. What a good plan the keeping house with Lady Bolingbroke wd be—ah, I missed the letter in which you must have mentioned it first– Never can you tell me too much of yourself—so dont be affected & talk of egotism. The Is & mes are the best of a letter. I long to hear of you .. courage! George too—how anxious I am for him, dear fellow: but it cd only have been an application to the chancellor or he wd have mentioned it, I think– Tell me everything– Am I not discreet?–
Private
Address, on integral page: To the care of Miss Tripsack / (Miss Barrett) / 12. Upper Gloucester Street / Dorset Square / New Road / London.
Publication: Huxley, pp. 88–90 (in part).
Manuscript: British Library.
1. Year provided by EBB’s reference to Fano, the first stop on the Brownings’ Adriatic tour, mentioned in several letters about this time.
2. Presumably the chalk drawing of Edward Moulton-Barrett painted in February 1840 by John Mills, given to EBB by her father. It hung in her room in Wimpole Street over her chimney-piece (see letter 1055) and was placed in her bedroom at Casa Guidi but has not survived. An artist’s copy is in a private collection; it is reproduced in R.A. Barrett’s The Barretts of Jamaica (Winfield, Kansas, 2000), between pages 148 and 149.
3. Alice Augusta Enrica Cottrell (1848–1849), who was born on 14 July 1848.
4. Slightly over half a line obliterated by EBB.
5. Marguerite Marie de Bourbon (1847–93), first child of Ferdinand Charles de Bourbon and his wife Louise Marie (see letter 2737, note 9), was born on 1 January 1847.
6. i.e., Eliza Wilhelmina Giles (née Cliffe, 1810–48), about whom EBB had enquired in letter 2680 (see note 26). Her health must have been failing at this time, as she died on 14 November 1848.
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