2847. EBB to Mary Russell Mitford

As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 16, 104–108.

Florence.

30 April [1850] [1]

You will have seen in the papers, dearest friend, the marriage of my sister Henrietta & will have understood why I was longer silent than usual. Indeed the event has much moved me—and so much of the emotion was painful .. painfulness being inseparable from events of the sort in our family .. that I had to make an effort to realize to myself the reasonable degree of gladness & satisfaction in her release from a long, anxious transitional state, & her prospect of happiness with a man who has loved her constantly, & who is of an upright, honest, reliable & religious mind. Our father’s objections were to his tractarian opinions & insufficient income. I have no sympathy myself with tractarian opinions, but I cannot under the circumstances think an objection of the kind tenable by a third person—and in truth, we all know, that if it had not been this objection, it would have been another .. there was no escape any way. An engagement of five years & an attachment still longer were to have some results; and I cannot regret, or indeed do otherwise than approve from my heart what she has done from her’s– Most of her friends & relatives have considered that there was no choice, & that her step is abundantly justified. At the same time, I thank God that a letter sent to me to ask my advice, never reached me, .. (the second letter of my sisters, lost, since I left them! ..) because no advice ought to be given on any subject of the kind, and because I, especially, should have shrunk from accepting such a responsibility. So I only heard of the marriage three days before it took place .. no, four days before .. and was upset, as you may suppose, by the sudden news. Capt Surtees Cook’s sister was one of the bridesmaids, and his brother [2] performed the ceremony. The means are very small of course—he has not much, & my sister has nothing—still it seems to me that they will have enough to live prudently on, & he looks out for a further appointment. Papa “will never again let her name be mentioned in his hearing,” he says .. but we must hope: the dreadful business passed off better on the whole than poor Arabel expected, and things are going on as quietly as usual in Wimpole Street, now. I feel deeply for her, who in her pure disinterestedness, just pays the price & suffers the loss. She represents herself however to be relieved at the crisis being passed. I earnestly hope for her sake that we may be able to get to England this year—a sight of us will be some comfort. Henrietta is to live at Taunton for the present, as he has a military situation there .. and they are preparing for a round of visits among their many friends who are anxious to have them, previous to their settling. All this, you see, will throw me back with Papa .. even if I can be supposed to have gained half a step .. and I doubt it. Ah yes—dearest Miss Mitford! I have indeed again & again thought of your “Emily”, .. stripping the situation of “the favour & prettiness” associated with that heroine! [3] Wiedeman might compete, though, in darlingness with the child, as the poem shows him. Still, I can accept no omen– My heart sinks when I dwell upon peculiarities difficult to analyze. I love him very deeply—. When I write to him, I lay myself at his feet—. Even if I had gained half a step, (and I doubt it, as I said) see how I must be thrown back by the indisposition to receive others!– But I cannot write of this subject—let us change it.

So provoked I am to have omitted in my last letters telling you of the failure of certain other expectations. From the beginning I was convinced that miscarriage had taken place when I was ill, & not a mere threatening as the learned supposed .. but nobody would hear me speak .. and although none of the usual symptoms of pregnancy occurred subsequently to the attack, there was a peculiar movement which I, too, mistook for a while, but which proved to be a slight convulsive tendency through weakness. It went off, & I remained in my usual state of health—a disappointment & vexation certainly, .. only I have got over it now—it has grown to be matter of history. Oh, Wiedeman does for us very well—‘farà da se’ [4] .. one spoilt child in a house will serve to keep it in commotion. Robert & I contend who shall not cross him in any of his wishes—we are each of us, dreadfully afraid of being the unpopular person. In the meantime the child has such a sweet sunshiney temper, that his royalty fails to corrupt him: he is full of love & premature sensibility—his little cheeks colour to crimson, if you raise your voice, .. and if he imagines that he has hurt you by accident, he kisses you with all his might to make amends. Then, he is beginning to walk, & can take five or six steps alone, which is an event with us of course, & has produced immense sensation. You ought to see what friends he & Flush are—but he loves Flush more than Flush loves him. There are bursts of love towards Flush—hugging & kissings, till Flush says “Something too much of this,” [5] & walks away from an excess of demonstration which he considers in bad taste. Baby correctly sings the air of “Margery Daw”, [6] and tries hard at “Viva la liberta” [7] —he claps his hands when he approves of anything, & has various other accomplishments, with the account of which I forbear edifying you today. He looks younger than his thirteen months, little darling, through having such an infantine round face, & this contrasts the more with his great intelligence & vivacity, & quite seems to startle people sometimes. Madme Ossoli says that ‘his thoughtful eyes go to her heart.’ She sails for America in a few days, with the hope of returning to Italy, and indeed I cannot believe that her Roman husband will be easily naturalized among the Yankees. A very interesting person she is, far better than her writings:—truthful, spiritual in her habitual mode of mind, .. not only exalted, but exaltèe [8] in her opinions, .. and yet calm in manner. We shall be sorry to lose her. We have lost besides, our friends Mr & Mrs Ogilvy, .. cultivated & refined people—they occupied the floor above us the last winter; & at the Baths of Lucca & Florence we have seen much of them, for a year past. She published some time since a volume of ‘Scottish minstrelsy’ .. graceful & flowing, .. and aspires strenuously towards poetry: a pretty woman with three pretty children—of quick perceptions & active intelligence & sensibility. They are upright, excellent people in various ways, and it is a loss to us that they should have gone to Naples now.

Dearest friend, how your letter delighted me with its happy account of your improved strength. Take care of yourself, do, to lose no ground. The power of walking must refresh your spirits as well as widen your daily pleasures– I am so glad! Thank God. We have heard from Mr Chorley who seems to have received very partial gratification in respect to his play, [9] and yet prepares for more plays, .. more wrestlings in the same dust– Well, I cant make it out. A man of his sensitiveness to choose to appeal to the coarsest side of the public, which, whatever you dramatists may say, you all certainly do, is incomprehensible to me. Then I cannot help thinking that he might achieve other sorts of successes more easily & surely. Your criticism is very just. But I like his ‘Music & Manners in Germany’ [10] better than anything he has done– I believe I always did like it best—and since coming to Florence, I have heard cultivated Americans speak of it with enthusiasm, yes, with enthusiasm. ‘Pomfret’ [11] they wd scarcely believe to be by the same author. I agree with you that it is a pity indeed for him to tie himself to the wheels of the Athenæum, to approfondir [12] the ruts .. what other end? And, by the way, the Athenæum, since Mr Dilke left it, [13] has grown duller & duller, colder & colder, flatter & flatter. Mr Dilke was not brilliant but he was a Brutus in criticism; & though it was his specialty to condemn his most particular friends to the hangman, the survivors thought there was something grand about it on the whole, & nobody could hold him in contempt. Now it is all different—we have not even ‘public virtue’ to fasten our admiration to!

—You will be sure to think I am vexed at the article on my husband’s new poem. [14] Why, certainly I am vexed! Who would not be vexed with such misunderstanding & mis[s]tating? Dear Mr Chorley writes a letter to appreciate most generously: so you see how little power he has in the paper to insert an opinion, or stop an injustice. On the same day came out a burning panegyric of six columns in the Examiner—a curious cross-fire. If you read the little book .. (I wish I could send you a copy, but Chapman & Hall have not offered us copies ..) & you will catch sight of it somewhere .. I hope you will like things in it at least. It seems to me full of power. Two hundred copies went off in the first fortnight, which is a good beginning in these days.

—So I am to confess to a satisfaction in the American piracies. Well—I confess, then. Only it is rather a complex smile with which one hears .. “Sir or Madam, we are selling your book at half price, as well printed as in England.” “Those apples we stole from your garden, we sell at a halfpenny, instead of a penny as you do: & they are much appreciated.” Very gratifying indeed. It’s worth while to rob us, that’s plain—& there’s something magnificent in supplying a distant market with apples out of one’s garden. Still the smile is complex in its character, & the morality, .. simple—that’s all I meant to say.

—A letter from Henrietta & her husband .. glowing with happiness, & it makes me happy. She says “I wonder if I shall be as happy as you, Ba!”– God grant it. It was signified to her that she should at once give up her engagement of five years, or leave the house. She married directly. I do not understand how it could be otherwise, indeed. My brothers have been kind and affectionate I am happy to say, in her case. Poor dearest Papa does injustice chiefly to his own nature, by these severities, hard as they seem. Is K. well now? Write soon & talk of yourself to

your ever affecte

I am rejoicing in the people’s edition of your work. [15] Viva! (Robert’s best regards.)–

Address, on integral page: Miss Mitford / Three Mile Cross / near Reading.

Publication: EBB-MRM, III, 295–300.

Manuscript: Wellesley College.

1. Year provided by postmark.

2. John Aubone Cook (1811–59), fourth child and third son of John and Elizabeth Cook, was at this time Curate of St. Margaret’s, Westminster. In the autumn of 1850, he accepted the living of South Benfleet, Rayleigh, where he remained until his death. “Surtees Cook’s sister” refers to Susannah (Susan) Cook who also served as a witness.

3. In “Emily,” from Mary Russell Mitford’s Dramatic Scenes, Sonnets, and Other Poems (1827), the title character is estranged from her father for marrying against his wishes. The two are later reconciled, however, by means of her young son.

4. “Does well for himself.” Cf. “L’Italia farà da sé” (“Italy will do for herself”), a line taken from a remark made by Carlo Alberto, which became a popular cry among Italian patriots.

5. Hamlet, III, 2, 74.

6. The Mother Goose nursery rhyme: “See, saw, Margery Daw, / Johnny shall have a new master; / He shall have but a penny a day, / Because he can’t work any faster.”

7. “Long live liberty.”

8. “Excited,” or “impassioned.”

9. Old Love and New Fortune (1850).

10. Music and Manners in France and Germany: A Series of Travelling Sketches of Art and Society (1841).

11. A novel published in 1845.

12. “Deepen.”

13. Charles Wentworth Dilke (1789–1864) had turned over the editorship of The Athenæum in 1846 to T.K. Hervey.

14. EBB refers to the review in The Athenæum; see letter 2846, note 3.

15. i.e., The Parlour Library edition; see letter 2838, note 1.

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