2864. EBB to Henrietta Cook
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 16, 153–158.
Florence–
July 7th [1850] [1]
My beloved Henrietta, this is rather a note than a letter– There will be no time, I fear, to write a letter. But an opportunity arrives, & I have your notina to incite me. You dont mean to write again too, until you hear from me, you say. So I shall throw a heartfull of words upon paper, & not apologize for haste or confusion of structure. Then, dear dearest Henrietta I think of you much just now, & want to congratulate you on your … sickness .. though it really seems worse than is generally suffered. Never mind! Dr Harding says that no excess of sickness is bad—he never knew harm come of that. Take courage, Henrietta– You will probably be quite relieved when the movement comes—your spirits will be better .. you will be fitter to move about. Meantime I do hope you dont walk too much, & above all things that you avoid the hills– The more you keep on the sofa, the better, remember. As for the ‘gourmandise’, I assure you I never meant to accuse you of such a thing, Henrietta, so dont disavow it .. you need’nt indeed. What I wanted to put you on your guard against was only this– The appetite is apt to be in a morbid state, & women are famous, you know, for taking strange fancies, .. sometimes for unripe fruit, sometimes for this & sometimes for that—upon which, other women always say .. “It wont hurt you if you wish for it”. Now the fact is, there is no such impunity—it is a complete prejudice & fallacy– The digestion (though merely from mechanical causes) is peculiarly sensitive at these periods, .. & if you dont suffer from unwholesome diet, your child may .. & therefore it is incumbent to exercise one’s good sense, &, not to throw the rein to one’s fancy. A friend of mine here, could’nt, she declared, touch animal food, the whole time of pregnancy—& yielding to her distaste, she lived upon fruit, salads, & such things. Her child is weak & backward, & of a lymphatic constitution, very unfavorably developped. [2] Having this in my head, I wrote what I did– Forgive me, Henrietta. I think you ought to take everything strengthening, & as much plain animal food as you can– If you took meat twice a day, it wd be better– Not a quantity of liquids .. of tea .. not an excess: & above all—not much of that horrible sour cider– Recollect you have to take food for two—do remember that. Every three or four hours you ought to eat—now dont laugh, because you ought. For the rest, your plans are excellent. There can be no harm in the farmhouse scheme, for a few months—but as to living on in farmhouses & draughty cottages, your patriotism will be a sublime thing, if you & Surtees should prefer doing so really. Everybody begins (or nearly everybody) by not bearing to live out of England. Upon trial, you wd find it wonderfully easy to reconcile yourselves to quadrupling your income & living free of the sense of small stringent economies. The worst of poverty is, that it makes one obliged to think of money– Still of course you know best—only my private opinion is that England should be less dear, if we are to practise the virtue of preferring to live in her– In that case, it would only remain for us to try to get over the objection of her having the worst climate in the world. Oh, I hope I shall never live another winter in England. I am not patriotic enough for it, really: I leave it altogether to you & Surtees. But I want to be nearer, & to make the effort about Paris, .. and I have hope that we may be able to manage it. As to cheapness, I dont mind what the English say, because they carry about their own prices, & never know how to get rid of them. Were we not told & assured that Florence was “a very dear place”, before we came here?– And did not Arlette actually find it “very expensive”? We have French authority for knowing that we may live in Paris quite as cheaply as here—and, besides, Count Cottrell (who is half an Italian) told us some time ago that we might do so .. & that he himself, if ever he left Florence would go to Paris– His opinion on this subject is of great value because he is deep in the knowledge of prices (he buys even his wife’s chemises, I hear!) and, far from undervaluing the cheapness of Florence, he holds firmly to his calculation that four & sixpence has the value here, of a pound in England … that it will go as far, I mean. We should like to have an apartment in one of the great houses in Paris, out of the fashionable beat, with a garden, .. looking into a garden, so as to escape the noise. Such things are to be had very cheaply, we understand. Then we shall take the best & more portable part of our furniture with us, & sell the rest—the water-carriage is cheap & convenient. Paris is very healthy for children—& the summer heats we should always escape from by travelling to England or elsewhere. Switzerland & Germany are accessible from the railroads. We shall have art & literature in Paris, & Robert being a member of the Historical Institute, & another literary society, (for which they sent him diplomas) [3] we shall be able to know the best people we like to know. So that’s our scheme! We shall avoid the English & live our own free lives. As to revolutions, I am never afraid of them: I have seen them too near. The nearness to England is an immense recommendation, and I like Paris of itself– I like that life, and mobility, & above all that continual beat of mind. Robert always prophecied that I should drag him to Paris one day, and now he sees the advantages as I do, & is not dragged, but runs. Well—we are not gone yet. Normandy & Brittainy [sic] are cheaper of course than Paris or Florence—only one shd not begin by taking a furnished house—nor should one end by teazing other people to death, .. particularly patriots, like you & Surtees. Your plans are excellent, it seems to me [4] —and quietness & good air, to say nothing of the neighbourhood of dear Mrs Martin, must be the best thing in the world for you just now. Oh yes! go to London in November! I am delighted to think that you are wise enough to mean to go! January is the month—is it not, Henrietta! Yes—but dont have Mrs Bassett; let her be ever so cheap—and I cant make out whether her terms are two, three, or five pounds, from the hieroglyphic you sent me. Which?– But if ever so cheap, dont have her! Wilson says that five years ago, when she attended Maria Barrett .. six years ago, rather! .. she was quite unfit for her situation—& it is not likely that she should hear better, see better, or be more active, after six years. She was so deaf that Maria called in vain, .. so blind, that she could not discern the baby properly [5] .. and then she snored “comme quâtre” [6] – Oh Henrietta, dont have Mrs Bassett– Consider how right it is to have an efficient person in a first confinement– Mrs. Ogilvy told me that you could have the best help, in London, for a guinea a week during the month—four guineas—and you ought to have the best. As to Florence, in that respect, it is enormously expensive—for reasons which I once told you, I think. All but the very richest Italians employ ‘levatrice’, [7] —and the whole system of monthly nurses & medical men is unknown here, except as an exceptional luxury. Mrs Ogilvy procured a monthly nurse for herself for only four pounds—but that was considered a miracle of cheapness, and the woman was a Scotchwoman & had not had much experience. For six pounds or a little more, you can get an efficient monthly nurse—but Madme Biondi, who is worth everybody put together, & is sent for to all parts of Italy by Royal Houses, never receives less than nine pounds for the month—which we paid her, besides giving her a gown. An immense price—is’nt it? But she is well worth it—she is admirable in her situation– Then we gave eleven pounds to Dr Harding for his services, including the vaccination .. which I wd have done when Baby was six weeks old. He was not taken out of doors till it was done. Twenty pounds expenses to begin with! Then our wet nurse—I hope you will be able to avoid that addition.–
After all, this sort of expense, and postage, are two things which I never grudge .. which neither of us grudge: the happiness is more than worth the money. So mind you write as often as you can. Oh, I want to hear everything! See how we are disappointed about England, & how you ought to make it up to us by writing! We have just a hundred pounds, or a pound or two more, to see us to the end of the year—and I assure you we are reduced to hard calculations to contrive to get out of Florence during the two months of its insufferable heat. If Robert & I were alone we should brave it—but I am afraid for Wiedeman who has grown thin & is looking pale, with eight teeth coming at once, little darling! He is not unwell—but he tosses about instead of sleeping soundly, and his arms have grown too soft to please me. It is the heat & the tooth-cutting together, of course. The thermometer was at eighty six in the shade at six oclock yesterday evening, .. and though I have certainly felt much intenser heat in Italy than this, still it is trying for a young child. (His hair curls all over his head in short curls, like a lamb’s fleece of gold, .. if there was ever a Golden Fleece, except in the mythology.) We should have taken a villa in the neighbourhood of Leghorn .. that is, an apartment in one, .. but the expenses are far beyond our means.: and we are in great perplexity where to go, still. There is a rumour about a very cheap villa in the Appenines .. four miles from Vallombrosa—we dont know how to decide. Robert went to Sienna last week, to see if it wd suit us—the first time he ever left me– I did not feel quite up to going with him, .. & it was necessary for him to go. He went at seven in the morning, & was to return at seven, by the train– Such a day I passed, feeling as if I had lost my head .. or something—and at seven, .. there was no train in consequence of a festa. [8] I sate up till twelve & went to bed perfectly miserable, expecting not to see him till the next day—but at three in the morning, I heard a voice under the window saying softly “Ba”. “Robert” said I .. “is it really you?” Yes—he could not make the porter hear, and the gates of the palazzo were closed of course– So I jumped out of bed, & without waiting to put on even my slippers, ran along the passage to Baby’s room & woke Wilson & the balia, who woke the porter, who opened the gates .. and we were all right again. He had found a sort of halting crazy vehicle & travelled in it with two priests, as anxious as he was, to get back to Florence. He was “so afraid lest I shd be uneasy”—and “had not dined away from me after all,” he said, .. having only had a glass of milk and some biscuits. I, on the contrary, was so unfeeling as to have eaten an excellent dinner:– There, was a humiliation!– Also the expedition proved in vain, for Sienna was far from desirable for us, he thought, .. with an uninteresting country .. a want of verdure & trees. Sienna wd have been cheap at least—& cheapness is necessary, as you may suppose. Your income far exceeds ours this year—what with new editions & the David Lyon– What they have been doing to the David Lyon, I cant imagine– Giving her a golden poop & silver stern, I should think. Our books, at any rate, will come into use again next year, having paid the new publishers: at least Robert’s books will– As to mine, I begin to think they never will be out of the press– Such dilatory people, to be sure! And it might have helped us, in the Laureateship business, if this new edition had been out. Not that I am likely to have it in any case—oh no!—notwithstanding the knight errantry of the Athenæum, for which we are much obliged to it: & I cant help thinking, besides, that Leigh Hunt should have the office on every account. He has not much delicacy & good taste, but he is a great man & a good man in spite of all, & the world has been too slow in recognizing these facts.
Henrietta, when you begin to make your baby-clothes, let me help you with my advice, .. and if I can get to you a little model bed-gown, I will. It is far better not to buy robes & long frocks– I counsel you to keep the embroidery for the short frocks which will be wanted so soon, as it is the fashion now to put babies into short petticoats as soon as possible. Wiedeman had his tails cut off after two months– Well—there is time enough for this sort of speculation. I do hope, dearest dear Henrietta, you keep up your spirits, & are not afraid even by fits. Be wise & brave & cheerful. There’s nothing to be afraid of, I assure you– Trust to my word that there is a quantity of exaggeration expended upon this subject—only nothing can exaggerate the happiness– You will have great comfort in having Mrs Cook, and it is very kind in her to wish to be with you, not considering her own delicacy of health. Arabel will be easier in being near to you, & you happier, in being near to her—& dear Surtees easier & happier by reflection. Give him my love, & tell him how deeply I approve of the London scheme … everything except Mrs Bassett– I do wonder (& so does Wilson) how so wise a person as Minny, could have recommended Mrs Bassett–
Poor Sophia Cottrell has been very ill with the results of the last blow. She bore up dauntlessly at first, & then suddenly sunk .. took a hatred to the house, & lay as if she were dead, with her eyes shut, & not bearing her husband even to speak in the room. It was altogether nervous—& he has taken her down to Leghorn, meaning to change the air from place to place until the moral system is braced again. We hear that she is better already, & considerably. Count Cottrell pressed us to go up to the mountains to stay with him in a beautiful villa which a friend of his had lent him for the summer, but we refused of course.
Thank dear Mrs Martin from me for her most welcome letter, which was so long in coming. I hope, by the way, that people who are long in coming, may be welcome too. Delightful news she gives me of Arabel’s good looks & spirits––my poor darlingest Arabel! and oh, I do wish that “some companion” according to the prophecy, would quickly bring her out to me!!– Colwall must be looking lovely with roses—but I wd rather see Mr & Mrs Martin & find them looking as well as you report, than acres of roses– As for Herefordshire it is all bitter with the bitterness of my heart—I could not sit & eat & sleep in it, I feel still. You are probably right, & I wrong—but I am made so, & cant unmake my nature.–
Henrietta dearest tell me .. did Bummy notice your letter? Has she vouchsafed any recollection of you since your marriage? I should like to know. Think of my surprise the other day! Some one wanted to speak to me .. and it was Walters, aunt Jane’s maid! For a moment I fancied the Hedleys in Florence. But no—she had left them to marry, & she & her husband were travelling in the service of the Comtesse somebody, an Englishwoman who had married a Frenchman. She looked very well, & was full of enquiries about the Hedleys which I could not answer. She thought me “looking so very wonderfully better” she said– She had not seen me you remember, since the Torquay-time.–
Dearest Henrietta, let me say one word—Robert & I do not forget our marriage-gift to you, & no delay is to make you fancy that we forget it. We have had great discussions on the subject already, but I am afraid it wont be a service of plate after all. Ah—I am vexed so, not to see you this year again! But what cd we do? Baby comes in a mysterious way to tell me that the coffee tray is brought in—so I get up & go to the sofa, & set him by me there while I make it, which is his delight. He sits between Robert & me, & has a spoonful of coffee first from one cup & then from another. God bless you both with just such a blessing, & whatever else you wish for!
Your attached Ba
Robert’s love of course goes with mine to Surtees. I direct this letter to Mrs Martin’s because I have’nt an idea what address wd find you. I will write to dear Mrs Martin, tell her. Think of my forgetting to tell you that Mrs Martin appreciates Surtees fully & highly.
Henrietta’s commentary/ .. “So you call this a note!” [9]
Address, on integral page: Mrs Surtees Cook / James Martin’s Esqre / Colwall / Great Malvern.
Publication: Huxley, pp. 124–127 (in part).
Manuscript: British Library.
1. Year provided by postmark.
2. EBB is probably referring to Margaret Fuller and her child, whom RB describes as “lymphatic” at the end of letter 2874.
3. RB was included in the first list of members of L’Institut Historique, which was founded in 1833 by Joseph Michaud. RB’s diploma, granted by the Institut on 31 January 1833, together with a diploma granted by the Société de Statistique Universelle (dated 15 September 1836), sold in Browning Collections as lot 183. See Reconstruction, H547 and 548, where they are incorrectly surmised to have belonged to RB, Sr. See also vol. 3, p. 322.
5. Samuel Goodin Barrett (1844–72). We have been unable to trace any further identification of Mrs. Bassett.
6. “Excessively”; literally “like four.”
7. “A midwife.”
8. The festival of the Palio, which occurs twice each summer: “on 2 July to commemorate the miracles of the Madonna of Provenzano, and on 16 August to honour the Assumption of the Virgin” (Judith Hook, Siena: A City and Its History, 1979, p. 217).
9. EBB has inserted this line at the top of the first page.
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