2856. EBB to Eliza Anne Ogilvy
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 16, 129–132.
Florence
May 26. [1850] [1]
I did not think I had delayed writing above a day or two but the days intertwine themselves so day into day, that two or three or four are apt to pass for one with me. Forgive me, dear Mrs Ogilvy, if ever I seem slack in correspondence, (it is a besetting sin of mine, people say) and do you heap coals of fire on my head [2] by heaping letters. We had just been talking of you at breakfast & wishing to hear from you when your letter came. Really I was surprised to find that Mrs Ogilvy had actually torn herself away, and with the intention of settling in Scotland too! Another set of grandchildren, however highly cultivated & ‘botanical’, scarcely accounts for the miracle, do you know, and I still expect to hear of some secret intention of returning to you in Paris or elsewhere, being suddenly developped, and effacing the other. Meantime we shall be very glad to see her & Mr Ogilvy in their way through Florence. No Bologna for us yet. And we have not been able to fix about England & which is’nt our fault. Perhaps all the grand schemes may end by our spending the summer near Leghorn, but I hope not, for Robert’s sake as well as my own. At any rate the Baths of Lucca will be scrupulously avoided .. though, by the way, I had a kind note from the queen of the place [3] (did I tell you?) offering to take a house close to her own, and to overwhelm us with royal attentions. Your impressions of Sorrento dont appear to be quite favorable, in spite of the magnificent prospect of living in Tasso’s rooms. [4] Is the situation high or low? I mean in relation to the mountains, for you talk of a precipice towards the sea, which implies a certain height. Does it ever strike you that, after all, your cheapest plan might be to take ship back to Leghorn, now you have seen Naples & can carry the vision in your soul? Dr Harding recommends the neighbourhood of Leghorn to us, for its dryness & healthfulness, besides the cheapness. Rocks into the sea, and a possibility of spending the whole day out of doors under tents which are provided—then, a better access to books & more nearness to civilization. Still Leghorn is not Sorrento, & your sister [5] would rather find you where you are of course—and we ourselves shall not go to Leghorn unless driven there by the absolute winds. I hope your boy is cutting his teeth victoriously, and I am quite incredulous as to his ‘looking ugly’ in the process. Wiedeman keeps to his eight teeth, but he has eight more coming, which teaze him occasionally but dont affect his health in the least. Still, a truthful & fanciful friend of ours gave us what is called “a turn” the other day, by advising us to get another balia whose milk might harmonize better & help his flesh & blood, as the child had evidently “too much soul”, & was too like a baby in a picture. A mere fancy of course, when we came to consider. His frocks show how he grows, and he is round & dimpled all over his body, and of an untiring vivacity—an excess of it indeed. I am beginning to repent his knowing how to walk. He is on his feet now from morning till night—refusing to take a finger’s assistance out of doors, running, running, running, the whole day through, setting off across the piazzas, and plunging into the crowd to get to the band at the Cascine. It is far too much for so young a child: if he were five years old, it would be almost too much. And then he is such a little creature to be seen running in that way, that his littleness looks strange. He is slightly made, you know, .. delicately, .. & certainly does look rather too like a water-colour drawing of a baby– I wish for him, more robustness & richer tones .. but we must have what we can get, & be thankful. Just now he has been amusing himself with shutting both the windows, & all the shutters, while we have him here at the balia’s dinner-time. A good opportunity for my writing! We have been forced to have the two terraces roped in, lest he should squeeze himself out between the railings into the street: keeping him in the rooms is impossible. With all which, he is not weaned, nor thinks of being weaned for the present. Nor does he talk any of the received languages—shaking his head for ‘no’, and giving you a kiss for ‘si’ .. that’s his way of expressing his opinions; in addition to which, he can sing various songs, and write, and sew after a peculiar fashion, and “far il Napoleone” [6] by folding his arms. We have left off the cap, & the hair begins to curl now. What a history! But my vanity is centered in Wiedeman– Robert has to give me a hint now & then, not to be offensively maternal. I have even been braiding two silk polkas & two white frocks for him—having had the elaborate patterns drawn for me by a man of the trade. How I should like to see your baby. If I were a prophetess (which it is proved that I am not) I should predict her to be the prettiest of your pretty children. I heard the other day that goat’s milk & water was peculiarly good for babies– Oh—dont let me forget to tell you that Sophia Cottrell has a little boy. So thankful I am for her! The child is small, smaller than ours was, but it is quite healthy, and she suffered little in bringing him into the world. Think of my walking to see her—there & back! In the highest spirits she was, poor thing, yet not forgetting to speak of her “dearest little Lily” who has turned to a radiant memory now. Also Mrs Greenhough (Horace) has an ‘expectancy’ for September. They have not heard yet from the Henry Greenhoughs. We have a letter today from Mr Stuart who is full of the great Bezzi and Kirkup controversy on the Dante question, and really whoever may be right as to priority, Mr Bezzi seems to me to be scant in magnanimity towards that poor old man who is an antiquarian by passion & catches at these old tapestries with the last strength of life. A man able to achieve for himself any sort of noble distinction would not hesitate to sacrifice so paltry a one to an antagonist aged & weak in health through repeated attacks of paralysis. “Who found Dante’s picture?” “‘I,’ said the sparrow”—or “‘I’ said the crow”– [7] What matter? The question of “who”, is’nt worth a sparrow’s feather—and yet Mr Bezzi is preparing a letter or pamphlet, something like Jove’s thunder, to fulminate over Florence & London!– [8] Mrs Wolley has gone at last. Mr Wolley thought it would be “providential if she were too ill to go,” but she was’nt ill at all when it came to the point, and insisted on going. If they have a steady, tolerably warm summer in England this year, she will not suffer, I dare say—but to try a winter there wd be a dangerous experiment. She is under the impression of being unthreatened as to the lungs. Now if Dr Trotman conceals the fact from her, is he right, do you think? It struck me, from our slight intercourse, that she is a woman of firm mind & conscientious, and that any clear statement of such a fact & argument following it, would influence her more strongly than unreasoning persuasions ever could. Her life is very precious, if only to her children, and she feels that; but also she feels, as we all do, that an asthmatic patient may be as well in England as in Italy. We have heard with pleasure that Tennyson was “much struck” with ‘Christmas Eve.’ It was pleasant to hear. Mr Forster read the m∙s. to him—so, he (Forster) wrote to us. Mr Stuart has been dining with Mrs Jameson, & breakfasting with Mr Forster, & Mrs Jameson promises to come to Italy when she has completed her third volume. They seem to me to be very dull in England in spite of everything, and if it were not for two or three people, I would gladly keep away. Oh, as it is, I shall have more pain than pleasure in going .. supposing we do go, .. and the supposition is growing very imaginary, considering how deep we are in May. Extraordinary weather it is for Italy—most enjoyably cool, when it does’nt rain, but the drizzling days are by no means done with. I begin to have a respectful opinion of the comet which is to come so near us in June. [9] Surely it must have something serious in its tail for us, to be so efficient at a distance. I dont wonder, as you do, at the energies of your friend, because I have known many of those young old people. What is seventyfive? Just, youth. Why, Rogers who is ten years older, practises more difficult kinds of agility than any driving about in carriages. I have a deep respect for the youth of age. It proves a strong soul—does’nt it? Cuckoo [10] speaks like a sage in choosing not to be a dunce nor too learned, & I admire the epigram. A child two years old, undergoing the science of botany, must be in desperate case .. not likely to mature even into … a botanist! April rain for April flowers .. what better?
I am uneasy when Wiedeman seems to understand too much—which really he does, sometimes. Tell me always of your children, & take our love for them & yourself.
Yours affectely my dear friend!
E B Browning
Address, on integral page: À Madame / Made Ogilvy, / 124 Riviera di Chiaja / Napoli.
Publication: EBB-EAHO, pp. 10–15.
Manuscript: Eton College Library.
1. Year provided by postmark.
2. Cf. Proverbs 25:22.
3. i.e., Clotilda Stisted; see letter 2853.
4. According to Murray’s Handbook for Travellers in Southern Italy (1853), “the House of Tasso … is situated on a cliff overlooking and washed by the sea, whose encroachments have so much undermined the cliff that the chamber formerly shown as that in which Tasso was born has entirely disappeared. The present mansion, called sometimes the Palazzo Laurito, retains, probably, few material traces of the original house” (p. 231).
6. “Imitate Napoleon.”
7. Cf. the nursery rhyme, “Who Killed Cock Robin?”
8. As previously noted, a letter from Giovanni Aubrey Bezzi, containing his version of the discovery of Dante’s portrait, appeared in The Spectator of 25 May 1850. In his conclusion, Bezzi referred indirectly to EBB’s informant, James Montgomery Stuart: “There is now in London an English gentleman … [who] will vouch for the strict accuracy of all that I have here said” (p. 494). Stuart had left Florence for London on 6 May (see letter 2849). For further details of the “Bezzi and Kirkup controversy,” see letter 2840, note 6.
9. A comet, discovered by A.C. Petersen (Altona, Germany) in May 1850, was visible to the naked eye by observers on the continent in late June 1850 (Gary W. Kronk, Cometography, Cambridge, 2003, p. 194). The discovery of the comet was announced in the Monitore toscano, 21 May 1850, p. 478.
10. Pet name for Alexander Ogilvy.
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