2905. EBB to Henrietta Cook
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 17, 7–13.
[Florence]
March 4th [1851] [1]
My beloved Henrietta, May God bless you & yours with every blessing He blesses with– I cannot tell you how I was affected in reading Arabel’s story of your child & the anxieties of which it has been the object– I could not keep back the tears as I read it, seeing you take the last look of him as Surtees carried him away to Mr Stone, feeling how you must all have felt in your different degrees. Oh—may God be thanked for His goodness. [2] I am not going to send you this letter today. Only I begin it today because I must say something .. must say that I think of you & love you. God bless you, & keep fast within your hands all the gifts He has given you lately. Is’nt [it] strange how dear these small creatures become suddenly to us? I used to be tormented about mine, whenever he lay in his cradle too long without moving. I used to say, “Do go & look at that baby.” It came into my head that perhaps he might have died quietly .. who could tell? He did’nt seem to have got deep enough into life, in those early days, to be at all safely alive.
March 22. How disgraceful to have kept this letter by me so long without finishing it. The fact is, we have been so tossed about in perplexities & doubts of various sorts that I scarcely knew in what manner to write. We thought at one time we had let our apartment to the Princess de la Tremouille, but she did not like to be ‘bound for six months at least,’ & we cd not allow her to have it for less. If we dont let the rooms, we must give them up I suppose—& there will be great vexation & fuss attending this .. taking down & packing up the furniture while we are in the house—and to doubtful ends after all. You see what is clear is that we must go to Rome next month .. & afterwards, if the ship money comes in duly, to Paris & England—but dearest darling Arabel & everybody, ourselves included, must be reasonable & consider that supposing we dont get the ship-money in a sufficient degree, Mr Kenyon’s noble kindness [3] will not capacitate us for northern expenses this year after Rome. He has written us the most kind of letters, thanking us as if we had done him a favour in accepting his generosity, & saying besides that he expected to have us in the summer of 1852 at Wimbledon as his visitors. Of this year he says nothing. Probably he is of opinion that the expenses during the Exposition would be too heavy for us .. & that we should not be justified in paying a long visit to Robert’s family when eggs are sixpence a piece. Nevertheless if we go to Paris we certainly shall go to England this summer .. Arabel may depend on that—and we shall go to Paris if we can .. And we shall know more certainties when we get to Rome. Sarianna seems to be half afraid of Paris for us .. afraid of the expense for us—but she is overjoyed at the thought of seeing us .. that is, of seeing Robert & Wiedeman of course– I am nothing but a myth. My only fear about Paris is about the climate—but to try the experiment is at once right & pleasant; & if we can live so near to England, it will be an infinite blessing for which to be thankful. Dearest Arabel’s letter drew my heart into my eyes– Ah—if she could ever fancy that I love her less—that her presence & companionship are less precious to me, .. what a wrong that wd be!– For the rest, yes, for the rest, I would rather not see England again .. as things are– My thoughts writhe away from England .. I cannot help it. Who can blame or wonder? It will all be pain—it must be. If it were not for Arabel, I would stay in Paris by myself, & beseech Robert to take Wiedeman with him to New Cross, leaving me for six weeks or two months– And that proves how I am feeling. I cannot give a better proof. Not that I shall do anything of the kind—indeed, no. I love Arabel too devotedly, & feel too intensely the reasons for loving her, to keep away when I can be with her.——
All which I write, my beloved Henrietta, without a word of you—but you are going off to Germany, & you wont give us a chance even of seeing you this year– Do you know I was half offended that you would’nt try Paris .. but I suppose you fear the expense, & I know that a reason of that sort cant be reasoned against, if it is at all reasonable. Still it seems to me that if we can manage for ourselves we could manage for you—& we understand the continental ways by this time. We might have taken rooms for you, in the same house with ourselves perhaps, & put in furniture—& Wiedeman & Altham might have gone out to walk together– Paris is very healthy for children. But I wont try even to persuade you, because of course I dont know much about Paris prices in relation to German prices, & your own scheme may be more suitable on every account. Where do you think of going? Heidelberg, the Peytons think would suit you well: they speak highly of the beauty & cheapness of the place. Did you ever think of Brussels? It is said to be cheap—& there you would be within a handsgrasp of Paris, & might move to us, if we sent you good tidings, & if you liked to come. If you go very far, remember, you wont economize, seeing that travelling is expensive– Always take the second train. [4] In the continent everybody does it, except princes of the blood, & so on. Oh Henrietta, surely we shant miss one another altogether this year! I do long to see the darling baby .. I do long to put an end to my speculative philosophy about his eyes & nose & mouth, by a face to face view of him. Why, what a great child he must be! So, I judge by the traditions. He will be like a son of Anak [5] by the side of my son. Arabel upbraids me for carrying Wiedeman. Well, I confess to carrying him sometimes, but not often—he likes me to carry him like a baby, into his room from this, when he is going to bed: he comes & lays down his head on my knee to show how he is to be carried– But he is not heavy, I am sorry to say—he is not nearly as heavy for instance as Mrs Ogilvy’s youngest child who is fourteen months old, & whom I could’nt carry if I tried. Wiedeman is a small fairy—only looking much stronger, as everybody cries out, than he used to do .. still a delicate little creature, as far as looks go. He has two more teeth—now he has eighteen; & such beautiful, minute pearls of teeth, Henrietta!– I hope your baby may be robuster, because it is pleasanter for a mother to see a child obviously strong, .. but he cant be really more healthy than mine has been hitherto. You ask me if the love grows—if it can ever be greater than at first. Oh yes, it grows—it can be greater. Robert said, when he had not been born a day, “I feel as if I could give my life for him already”—& I felt the same of course. But then, that is the mere animal instinct awakening—the mere tenderness of protection, & joy of possession. Afterwards comes the individualizing love .. when the little creature’s soul develops itself & draws your soul. I dont love Wiedeman, now, only because he is my child, but because he is a loving, comprehending, sympathetic child– There is the love of reason, after the love of instinct,—& if one is great, the two together must be greater. Of course there is a difference in children; and any stranger who came to know him well would hold him to be peculiarly attractive, I do think. Wilson holds (only Wilson is too much one of us to be a judge) that such a child, before, never was. Though a spoilt child (yes, Henrietta) & though used to have everything his own way, if he happens to be crossed necessarily .. as for instance in not being allowed an open knife to play with .. oh, he will shriek, & cry ‘Ah Di’ .. but he is never angry with the person who denies him .. never. Resentment has no part in his nature. Flush licked his arm while he was crying this morning, & he stopped suddenly in the midst of a scream, & looking up to my face (I was the wicked person who refused the knife) he laughed in his tears & kissed with his lips in the air to express to me that Flush had just kissed him– So then, I kissed him & all was over. Before he was two years old he knew the whole alphabet, except three or four letters– We said, “Dove m?” ‘Dove i’ [6] &c &c dodging him .. & he came down with his little finger on the right letter– His quickness is really extraordinary—for of course nobody teazed him by teaching him—he remembers everything—fancy, a child who cant ‘speak’– Still he is beginning to make out words. His first word, after papa, mamma, & babbo, was lapis (a pencil) .. then he said Dante. He knows all about Dante & Petrarch, & what books they wrote. Also he is learned in Tuscan art, and really I could scarcely believe the evidence of my senses the other day, when, among twelve or thirteen pictures in the drawing room, he pointed out the painters of every one– Robert said, ‘Dove, Cimabue?’ “Dove Giottino? Dove Margharitone”? [7] & so on with Agnello Gaddi, Francesco Fiorentino, Spinello Aretino, [8] & the rest .. dodging him backwards & forwards. The child ran from one to another, his face radiant with intelligence. It wd have been an effort of memory for anyone, and he had caught it up at once. Then he writes os, & ms & is, making his dot at an immense height .. but he has an excellent idea of making those letters. I am sorry to say he has left off kneeling down at the sound of music:—it was too pretty to last. But he is very fond of saying his prayers, and lately I have explained to him that to pray is to speak to God, & I have repeated something simple that he could understand .. such as, “Dio faccia che Bibi sia molto buono” [9] &c. This delights him, & sometimes he will come to me to say his prayers three or four times a day. At first he used to cross himself everytime, but he has nearly left it off though I never took any notice. He still likes however to take the sacrament in sugarplums at his altar at the other end of the room, chanting the benediction afterwards with hands held up. It is all so sweet & innocent that the very angels may smile, looking on.
Dear, dearest Henrietta, what would I give for a ten minutes chat with you about your plans .. not to say, for a sight of your baby! So you give him already unnatural food– That’s against my doxy—but in England such things may be done, I suppose, with impunity. But now, Henrietta, let nobody persuade you to give him cold baths until he has cut all his teeth. There is a fashion about cold bathing and I am convinced by observation that it is a most dangerous fashion<.> Mrs Ogilvy persisted in it till her child was nearly past hope, and now she always uses warm water in her nursery.– Shall you put your baby into short clothes before you take him abroad? You will find them much more convenient, & much prettier, & the babe will like them better himself in the approaching hot weather. Wiedeman began to change when between two & three months old. I just cut off his tails, & the thing was done. Babies kick about with considerably more ease of mind, when their tails are off, be certain—only you must give them warm socks for their poor little feet. When he wants to kick, lay him on the floor .. on a soft shawl: that is excellent. Indeed you have been fortunate in meeting with a trustworthy nurse for the wages you mention– I should not have thought it possible. So glad I am that you have the happiness to see the child smile .. he is cooing by this time, I dare say. Do his eyelashes appear yet? Wiedeman’s began to show at six weeks– You have a happiness, dearest dear Henrietta, which I have not had, & could not wish to have under the circumstances– It must be an intense joy to give your own life as food to him, knowing that he is better & not worse for it, .. and to be the first & nearest to him from the earliest moment. Yet Wiedeman loves me now as well as if I had nursed him. He is very fond of me & of Robert. Wilson says that whenever he sees anything he likes out of doors, his first thought is of me .. “mamma” .. she is to tell mama—& such heaps of daisies he brings me home, little darling. Mind when you write to tell me everything about your baby. Nothing is too small for me about the baby.
But I ought not to put off all this time, thanking dear Surtees for his letter, which Robert bids me thank him for warmly, & to express the pleasure it gave to both of us–
Will you ask Arabel to do me a favour—to ascertain whether Mrs Jones (Mrs Orme’s daughter) is dead or alive. [10] I never heard of her death, did any of you? I want the fact ascertained,—because a friend of hers is here & saw what he supposed to be the notice of her death in India in a newspaper some ten years ago, I think it was, & is anxious to know. If she is alive, where does she live? Tell me as much as you can—which I say to Arabel—Arabel, tell me. Much concerned indeed I am to receive her account of Mrs Orme– Why did none of you tell me before? Let her know that I send her my true love & affectionate wishes—dear Mrs Orme.
Mrs Tomkyns & the Miss Cours [11] have returned from Naples & Rome. They seem to have been eating & drinking gold & silver. They like Florence, after all their expenses, better than any other place, and are settled here for two months .. after which they go to England through Germany & the Tyrol. Robert helped them to an apartment here, & they seemed perfectly satisfied at first– On the third day, enter Mrs Tomkyns ‘tout eplorèe’ [12] .. with dishevelled wits if not hair. Being intensely English, she had taken it into her he<ad that> the “situation was not comme il faut”– [13] Robert explained to her as well as he could, that every part of Florence was “comme il faut”, .. & that we had no East & West End,—& that the situation of her apartment was considered particularly desireable, from its nearness to the Casciné– [14] “But .. Mr Browning would forgive her, .. would the English minister return her card in that particular situation?” I thought Robert would have lost patience altogether. Upon my word, some of the English are too English for anything. She is an amiable, pleasing woman too, & has got over these troubles wonderfully, & (what must help her) her little girl has regained all the health & strength she brought her to Italy in search of. A nice little girl, not yet four years old, whom Wiedeman has received into friendship, though she only understands English. He has another small friend who only understands French—he himself understanding nothing but Italian. If you ask him if he knows English, he shakes his head & says “no, no,” with a magnificent air. He can say ‘no’ now.
Reynolds Peyton has had an attack & is pulled down much they say: he is very imprudent, & faces the wind too arrogantly. He is well again, however– Poor Mrs Peyton is looking forward ‘like a child’ she tells me, ‘to May, because the May after will approach her to home.’ They all persist in declaring that they like Florence extremely, but I suspect that it is rather because they conscientiously wish to adapt themselves to circumstances, than from any spontaneous feeling. Reynolds studies drawing, & the girls take lessons in Italian & music—but they all seem to me a little sad,—& Berry specially <low> of spirits. The others however will have it that she <is> happy enough. I dont know. I said something lightly to her the other day about her engagement, and she burst into tears– I have told Mrs Peyton & her sisters that, in my mind, if he has to go to sea again, they had far better marry first—but they all seem to think it a horrible thing for married people to separate—not considering that it is’nt the marriage-vow, but the love, which makes such partings horrible. Of course I would’nt interfere for the world—only it does strike me as a most foolish arrangement– He is to leave his profession before they marry!! that’s the condition.!– Oh—there’s no room .. I will tell Arabel when I write next, about a conversation I have had with Miss Tulk, who came here to tell <us> that “Caroline was taking bitterly to heart my & Robert’s bearing towards her”. I spoke out womanfully & spared nothing of the truth of my feelings. I will tell Arabel when I write. My best best love to my dearest Trippy– More to Arabel on another subject too, which I wont hear of. Henrietta, kiss your darling for me, give Robert’s & my love to Surtees,—& ever believe me
your most tenderly affectionate
Ba–
Not a word of dear Minny. Arabel has not named her these two letters back. Thank God about Jamaica. Love to Henry. [15]
Address, on integral page: Care of Miss Tripsack / (Mrs Surtees Cook) / 12 Beaumont Street / Devonshire Place / New Road / London.
Publication: Huxley, pp. 131–135 (in part).
Manuscript: British Library.
1. Year provided by postmark.
2. On 5 February, the Cook’s child was baptized privately. “The reason of thus baptising him privately & suddenly was that … the skin is raised on one side of his head the size of half a lemon: & we took him afterwards to Mr. Stone, 16. Curzon Street, Mayfair, the first surgeon in London” (Surtees, 5 February 1851). Thomas Arthur Stone (1797–1864) correctly predicted that the affliction would soon disappear.
3. One hundred pounds. EBB reveals in later letters that it was provided annually in two, fifty-pound instalments and, except for some forgetfulness on Kenyon’s part, continued until his death in 1856. Precisely when the Brownings began to receive these instalments is unclear, but the occasion of the gift itself was apparently Pen’s birth. In a letter to her brother George, dated 2 April [1861], EBB declared that the financial difficulties plaguing the first years of her marriage would have been much worse “if Mr. Kenyon had not forced on us his hundred a year after three years, when Pen was born” (ms at Morgan).
4. i.e., second class.
5. The “sons of Anak,” or Anakim, were a semitic tribe of giants, as referred to in the Old Testament; see Numbers 13:33.
6. “Where is m?” and “Where is i.”
7. “Where is Cimabue?”; “Where is Giottino?”; “Where is Margharitone?” Margharitone, or Margarito de’Arezzo (fl. ca. 1250–90) and Giottino, who is linked with Giotto di Maestro Stefano (fl. mid-14th century), would have been familiar to RB by way of Vasari.
8. Tuscan painters who were active in Florence: Spinello Aretino (1350/52–1410), born and died in Arezzo. Agnolo Gaddi (ca. 1350–96), born in Florence, son and pupil of Taddeo Gaddi. Pier Francesco Fiorentino (b. 1444/45). RB had been buying Italian Renaissance paintings since the spring of 1850; see letter 2848.
9. “God make the baby to be very good.”
10. Eleanor Charlotte Jones (b. 1813), youngest daughter of EBB’s former governess, Charlotte Orme (née Scarman, d. 1862, aged 75), was still alive. She died in 1903 at Nymboida, New South Wales, Australia. Her husband, Jeremiah Linde Jones (b. 1800), died at Fairfield, New South Wales, in 1866.
11. Sic, for Coores; see letter 2884, notes 2 and 3.
12. “Thoroughly distressed.”
13. “Proper.”
14. According to subscription records for Vieusseux’s Reading Rooms, the Misses Coore and Mrs. Tomkyns were staying in Palazzo Arrighetti on Via dei Fossi.
15. Probably a reference to recent news that the cholera outbreak on the island had subsided. The Times of 10 March 1851 reported that “Kingston, Spanish Town, and Port Royal, are entirely free from the scourge, and that in all other districts it is on the decline” (p. 5). EBB’s mention of Henry may indicate that he had not gone to Jamaica; in letter 2884, she had hoped that he would not go there.
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