2849. EBB to Eliza Anne Ogilvy
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 16, 114–117.
Florence.
May 3 [1850] [1]
Indeed, my dear friend, I did not think of writing to you,—I was too busy in expecting the promised letter from you, which quite relieved me as far as the health of all of you is concerned. Robert had fallen into the dream of a possibility, through the delay, that you had found no rest for the sole of your feet [2] at Naples & were coming back to us directly. But even the plague of mosquitoes wont do us a good turn, I see:—mosquitos at this time of year! High prices dont frighten me half as much. Poor little Alexander, and the dear pretty little baby! Such gods as send gadflies & the like are very terrible. [3] If you go to Sorrento, I advise you to go to the heights,—it must be cooler there & freer from insects, and we have just heard from persons who spent last summer in a “delightful villa” below, close to the sea, that their thermometer frequently stood at eighty six, & that they had no walking room: they had to climb in order to walk, for even the coast is broken up so that you have no liberty along it. I am delighted that the dear children should be well & happy. The noise and gaiety must be excellent for them. What makes one’s head ache, is the precise thing they want!– An idèe fixe of mine, which sets me on sending my own child to all the fairs & festas, as you know. When Robert and I were discussing villa-plans once, one of the objections was, that it would be too much retirement for the baby!—and I assure you that seemed nearly conclusive to both of us. Let me not forget to tell you that a day or two after you left Florence, he began to take steps alone, and now, he patters across the floor without the help of a finger, .. staggering sometimes like a drunken fairy .. drunk with dew .. for the dew is strong these May nights. Why, yes, indeed it is May! Nobody would think it, however, with a fire, a real, live fire, actually blazing, for use & not for ornament. Italy has disgraced herself this time– The weather has been atrocious—a drizzle, drizzle, drizzle, producing a shiver, shiver, shiver, to correspond. England never did anything much worse; and if you at Naples have anything much better, why you may consider yourselves happy and compound for the mosquitoes. Today there is sunshine, but for my part I dont believe in it .. it’s sham, painted sunshine, and does’nt warm even the flies, poor things.
So glad I am that you liked the extracts in the Examiner. [4] The sub-editor of the Athenæum [5] is an intimate friend of my husband’s and a great admirer of the poem which he considers his masterpiece (so he told us in a letter the other day) and yet he had not the least power to prevent the appearance of that article, the animus of which was so bad. [6] It is a curious instance of the impotency of private friendship in such matters– He is more vexed than we are, I am certain, and indeed I heard yesterday that he talks of it as one of the misfortunes of his literary life– The poem is said to have made much sensation in London, and to be “much accused of irreligion”, which is the consequence, as I observed philosophically, of writing a religious work. If one ignores the subject altogether, the world does not cry out upon one’s irreverence, blasphemy, and the rest—lascia passare [7] .. there’s nothing contraband .. they dont spill critical oil upon one’s books. By the way, how glad I am that we have your Leopardi &c, [8] and how I condole with you on the piece of custom-house tragedy you did not escape. What puzzles me is, your having the Examiner. Perhaps your learned censors take it to mean Instructions for the confessional. I was thoroughly pleased by the article in question, as you may well believe.
Let me consider what news of Florence can interest you. Mrs Wolley does not go to England as soon as was intended, through being ill again, & unable to move, according to medical judgement, for at least ten days. Mr Wolley seems to be still hoping to keep her here altogether, Dr Trotman’s opinion of the probable effect of the English climate being so unfavorable. I fear she is very unwell. The baby is doing well in spite of the weaning. Mr Stuart goes to England on monday & means to stay a month. He escorts Miss Costigan, whose name I dont pretend to spell. [9] There’s the amount of what I know of Florence! We, ourselves, have not been to Bologna—oh no. I have been coughing, for one thing .. but have finished; and Robert has been buying pictures and covering himself with glory, at the expense of some scudi. Do you remember our angels from Arezzo, those, Mr Ogilvy admired & dear Mrs Ogilvy proposed taking from us, & Robert did not like parting with on account of his having written for the Madonna who was said to have formed the centre of the group when the picture was entire? Just before you went away, the answer came … the priest had gone to Rome & nothing could be done till his return.– Well—the other day, an accident took Robert into a corn-shop, a mile beyond the gates, and there he fell on a deposit of pictures which had been left by a collecting Jew who had fallen into difficulties & was unable to carry them to France as he intended. They had lain there for years, & were to be sold, if any one cared to pay the custom house dues, with the other expenses. Robert made his way up stairs; & in a bedroom & behind a bed, were other pictures .. a great deal of trash, but some very striking things. He bought five pictures in all; and when he had placed them in a good light, he went to fetch Mr Kirkup, & we were encouraged to name names which you will scarcely believe in perhaps. 1. Giottino, 2. Ghirlandaio, 3. Cimabue, 4, a very curious crucifixion, supposed to be too unequal to be a Giotto, but of his time, & unique or nearly so, through being painted on linen, .. 5, a virgin & child of a Byzantine master. All are in beautiful preservation. The Cimabue (so called) is a Christ with an open Greek gospel .. very fine & moving. But the most curious circumstance I have yet to tell you. The Ghirlandaio, the subject of which is the “Eterno Padre”, is proved to be the centre our angels belong to! There can be no doubt. The surrounding rainbow & the mystical garment of the centre figure, join on line for line with the bits of fragmentary colour in the angel-pictures. The centre figure is very grand, .. one hand upraised in blessing,—the other clasping a book. Two seraphs flying have darted down the tips of their scarlet wings into the angel-pictures, to make the evidence complete.
While you have been thinking of your sister, [10] I have been absorbed in mine, .. my sister Henrietta, who has just married Capt. Surtees Cook, an upright and amiable man to whom she had been engaged for five years,—not without some of the painfulness, inseparable in our family from such events. They will not be rich—but a marriage of affection & esteem always seems to me to imply the highest kind of prudence, and I have no fears for her happiness. The fear is stronger for my poor, dearest Arabel, my youngest sister, who is now without companionship & longing for me, I know—in spite of which, it’s impossible for us to decide yet upon going to England. I have been very anxious.– So Wordsworth is gone! [11] The firmament is darkened of that star! They should give the Laureateship to Leigh Hunt, it seems to us, if they dont abolish the office, .. which very likely they will do in these times, when ‘bays’ have grown to mean nothing else but chesnut horses.– Write soon—you wont write too soon, I protest to you,—& the sooner, the better, indeed! The cot looked as pretty & melancholy as possible when put up in Wiedeman’s room, & no recollections of friendship prevented his being charmed with it. Kiss the dear children for me, & bear us both in your kind remembrance, all of you! May God bless you.
Ever affectionately yours,
Elizabeth Barrett Browning–
We miss you more than you can miss us of course. Madme Biondi tells me that a great safeguard against internal derangements in Italian summers, with young children, is to keep their flannels on day & night. We are to continue doing so even this year with Wiedeman. He has taken to writing, & holds his pen just as you wd—better than I do.
Address, on integral page: Alla Signora / Signora D. Ogilvy, / Poste restante, / Napoli.
Publication: EBB-EAHO, pp. 4–9.
Manuscript: Eton College Library.
1. Year provided by postmark.
2. Cf. Genesis 8:9.
3. An allusion to the Greek myth in which the beautiful priestess Io is transformed into a heifer by Zeus in order to conceal her from a jealous Hera. The latter sees easily through the ploy, obtains the heifer, and has her watched. The heifer (Io) ultimately escapes, but Hera sends a gadfly to chase and torment her.
4. In its review of Christmas-Eve and Easter-Day; see letter 2843, note 6.
5. Henry Fothergill Chorley.
6. A reference to the John Westland Marston review in The Athenæum; see letter 2846, note 3.
7. “Let it pass.”
8. Giacomo Leopardi (1798–1837), Italian poet whose complete works were published in six volumes between 1845 and 1849. He was known for his liberal social and political ideas.
9. As recorded in the Passport Register in the State Archives of Florence, Elizabeth Costigan and James Montgomery Stuart were issued travel permits for France dated 5 May 1850. Miss Costigan (b. ca. 1819) was the second and youngest daughter of Sylvester Costigan of Dublin and his wife Catherine (d. 1864, aged 87). The latter is listed at Palazzo Guidi in the San Felice church census for 1852 and 1853. Presumably, Miss Costigan was going to England to visit her sister Mary Bradshaw at Leamington. Their brother John stood as godfather to the Stuarts’ four children (see letter 2850, note 2).
10. Louisa Dick (1816–92), Mrs. Ogilvy’s eldest sister, who arrived in Italy the previous autumn, presumably from India.
11. William Wordsworth died on 23 April 1850.
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