2804. EBB to Henrietta Moulton-Barrett
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 15, 317–320.
Bagni di Lucca–
July 20. [1849] [1]
My beloved Henrietta, your letter was left two days in the post—& I answer it without waiting for the promised one. I think it is fair to claim Mrs Farrer’s [2] friendship as she offered it of her own accord—but I have not very much trust in her—these things are so easy to say when they only mean ‘a sentiment’. She has a good deal in her power, I do not doubt, .. only power & will are different, you see. May God bless you, my own very dear Henrietta. I think of you more than I dare tell you––there’s the truth. As to desponding, .. pray never use such a word as “despond”. Disappointments, one cant help—but to be of good courage & trustful spirits, the case admits of, be certain, .. & you will turn the right stone at last– If there were no debts, I should have less fears– After all, you may have success with Mrs Farrer. Keep up your spirits, Henrietta. And now tell me .. what do you mean by saying “I am getting right again”. Do you mean that you have been unwell ever since Arabel told me of those rheumatic pains in your arm? Speak of yourself particularly. Tell me the precise truth or I shall not be easy. I want much to hear from Wimpole Street. I have behaved like an angel in writing you letter after letter, & except this little shred of paper .. no return has come to me. Oh, what a shame. Seriously .. dont you feel ashamed, you & Arabel! I am to have a letter, it seems, some time or other, but I dare say it wont come for a week after all. Cruel of you, it is.
Since I wrote to you we have given an entertainment .. a tea & coffee … to the Ogilvys—and very magnificent it was, in the manner of dearest Trippy’s .. only following at a humble distance, tell dearest Trippy!– Kneadcakes, by Wilson, breadcake by Alessandro, figs & strawberries & pigeon pie & ham, “ricotta”, a sort of cream cheese .. spread out with great taste & appreciated by most active appetites. Baby appeared for a moment before he went out with Wilson & his balia for their evening excursion, in a cap trimmed full with rose coloured ribbons, & cheeks full of roses to correspond, not forgetting his rose-coloured knitted shoes, with white tops, imitation of stockings. Illus. So pretty he looked, smiling though he wanted to get away. His balia who never does anything else (balias never do .. and we only want her to be in good spirits & humour, & nurse & play with him) knows how to knit these shoes & has made three or four pairs of different colours, so as to suit his ribbons– (Oh, I wish I had Arabel here,—I would rather have her knitting!) Yes, & I must’nt forget to tell you that Mrs Ogilvy who is by no means given to complimenting, admired his eyes .. I must tell you that, I, who calumniated them so. “What fine eyes he has!” Certainly his eyes are wonderfully improved, justifying Wilson in her judgment of my “being so impatient” & of “nothing contenting me”. His hair too is growing fast—his head is covered with hair, .. but it is not as dark as the original locks, of which you have a specimen, .. a good deal lighter,—yet with a shade which predicts darkness presently. His eyes are of the darkest blue, almost purple; & I feel almost sure that they will be taken out of the category of blue eyes as he grows older. All sorts of noises he makes now—when he is told to call for Flush, he screams aloud:—when I tell him to say “Papa,” he says “ah, ah” imitating the intonation of the voice exactly. He likes to see the trees wave in the wind & talks to them just as he does to Flush when he has hold of his ears. Flush is very fond of Baby, & the love is reciprocal. The delight of this child is to be out of doors, & he is out at six or seven in the morning, before he has doffed his nightgown, & not in till nine when it is dark– In England it would be impossible to give him so much fresh air. Of course in the heat of the day, though, he has to stay in the house with all the windows open, or at farthest, to keep inside the arbour which is close by– Baby is universally admired, and people are amused at so young a child in such very short frocks. Here generally the feet of babies of his age are covered, but it seemed to us better to keep his warm in the socks only, & give him room to kick about in the free air– And then, I am rather proud of his legs, let me confess to you, they are so doubled in & dimpled with fat– His baths are tepid now. He kicks & plunges & splashes & blinds himself & chokes himself with the water, in ecstasies of joy. Is’nt it better to have made him like his bath, instead of dreading it as most children do? I forgot to tell you that we always have bags of bran steeped in the water till it is white– Madme Biondi directed this like the rest.——
Dearest Henrietta, I just have your letter– Thank you a thousand times! thank you my best Arabel! If you knew how delightful it is to me to have letters from one, you would never say such wickedness as one of you does about postage, (oh, I never in my life could conceive of economy in postages!) & the other of you still more cruelly & perversely about what I should not or should like to hear, .. about my being teazed by this or that subject– Surely you have forgotten all about me; or if you have’nt, those who have, are absolutely justified. Your happiness is the life of my heart– I love you both better than I ever did– Remember that, & tell me all, everything—dont leave out a detail. I like your account of the visit to Mrs Farrer, & I begin to hope now that I have done her injustice. We shall see– Where are you going this summer, you people of Wimpole Street? Now Henrietta, take my advice or rather be entreated by me this time, & make no objection to the going into the country. In the first place you will be doubly wrong in wishing to hinder the great good of change of air to all of you, at this horrible cholera-time, (which terrifies me to think of)—and in the second place, believe me & Robert when we assure you that it will be an advantage on every account to you personally, to leave London for a little while– If I were you, I should wish to go directly, & indeed I quite wonder that you dont seem to see this yourself– There now! there’s my advice. So the Hedleys are in England– Give my dear love to them .. mind you do! Tell them how I envy the rabb<…> precious feet on the sofa .. that old office of mine. But dear uncle Hedley will never get my letter I fear, if he did not get it long & long before he left Tours—long before Bummy wrote to me indeed. Tell her with my best love that she shall hear from me soon. You make me smile to hear of her contentment in Arlette & Arlette’s baby: that is pleasant—but why is the baby thin? or, if there shd be a great ‘Why’, would’nt it be wiser to give it to a wet nurse instead of weaning it. The time of the teeth is dangerous—it is right not to wean a child until afterwards. Mrs Ogilvy’s was a very fine boy, & now he is wasting away .. melancholy to look at! If I were she, I shd be very uneasy indeed. And he was weaned at seven months. Sophia Cottrell’s is suffering much from its teeth—it is a fine child with large cheeks, notwithstanding,—but if she ever has another, she has made up her mind not to attempt to nurse it, for the child’s sake. She & the Miss Tulks are established at the ‘Villa’ (our third village) & there is a mountain between me & them, so hitherto Robert has visited them for both of us. I dont wonder at your dear visitor’s being astonished at my prowess– I assure you I astonish myself still more, when I wake suddenly & find myself on the peaks of mountains .. or at least more than half way up to their peaks. The beauty of the scenery & walks is something past description; & Robert & I enjoy it all to the uttermost, only wishing that we could draw to us all those whom we love, to stand beside us. Yesterday in consequence of Robert’s outrageous proceedings I promised never to go out with him again as long as I lived—though perhaps (if he repents) I may. Think of his twice snatching me up & carrying me up a long steep .. long enough & steep enough to incur the risk of breaking a vessel in the chest or heart– I was so frightened that fatigue wd have been nothing at all to it, & quite seriously angry. Sins of this sort, are his only sins against me. He is better, I think on the whole, but still not as well as I am anxious to see him– I want him to have a horse & ride—but he wont do it– Mr & Mrs Arno[u]ld may possibly come out to Italy in the autumn & bring Sarianna with them– Surely Mrs Gordon will communicate her arrival to Trippy & make some arrangement. I cannot conceive of the possibility of her choosing to escape the subject altogether, even as a matter of feeling—setting aside the obvious justice of the case. Pray dont fancy that Count Cottrell is disobliging. On the contrary he has always been most obliging & kind to us .. never grudging pains or trouble—only on the late occasion he seemed overwhelmed with commissions from inconsiderate people, .. with letters by fifties, he said, & only a portmanteau to take everything in. I thought that you might ask Mrs Gordon as from yourselves, about the books or the book, .. as the Seraphim is wanted really, & it being right to remain out of print no longer than is necessary to the preparation of the edition. I see no situation & no rooms which I like as well as our own—we have the pure mountain air here, not keen as it wd be in England. We mean to stay as long as we can,—to the end of October if possible .. if it shd not be too cold. You know we have taken our apartment until then, as it is the custom to take rooms “by the season”. Sophia Cottrell & the Miss Tulks .. oh, but I wrote before how I had had visits from them .. Sophia is looking well & pretty, & always spea<ks> of you– I am very sorry to hear of Mrs Orme’s health failing so– Have the Hedleys a<ny p>lans? Tell me everything– This is not as long a letter as usual—but there’s a packet of letters to send, and you had a double letter from me not long since. May God bless my much much loved Henrietta. I think of you always, & never cease to be
your most affectionate
Ba–
Has not Alfred succeeded in his effort about the secretaryship? I was glad to hear the other day that Miss Bayley’s brother [3] after two years patience, had obtained an appointment of £1400 a year at the Cape & was able to marry.
Address, on integral page: Care of / Miss Tripsack / (Miss Barrett) / 12 Beaumont Street / Devonshire Place / New Road / London.
Publication: Huxley, pp. 108–110 (in part).
Manuscript: British Library.
1. Year provided by EBB’s references to Pen and Bagni di Lucca.
2. Elizabeth Henrietta Farrer (née White-Ridley, formerly Scott, 1781–1853) was the mother of John Scott (1805–54), 2nd Earl of Eldon, whose grandmother Elizabeth Scott (née Surtees) was Surtees Cook’s great-aunt. An appeal to and help from Mrs. Farrer was evidently not without precedent. In 1845 Surtees recorded: “I heard the very good news, the excellent news that our cousin Lord Eldon had sent dear mother £600 to pay off all her debts. All this is through dear Miss Ridley & Mrs. Farrer, Lord E’s mother” (Surtees, 5 January 1845).
3. Unidentified. Miss Bayley had two brothers alive at this time: Samuel Bayley (b. 1785) and Robert Riddell Bayley (1791–1852).
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