3018. EBB to Fanny Dowglass
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 18, 54–56.
138. Avenue des Champs Elysées–
March 5– [1852] [1]
Ever dear friend, I am ashamed of myself, & really feel less worthy than usual to write, “dear friend” to you– I meant to answer directly your most welcome letter,—& there it has lain nevertheless, till I hear from my sister Arabel that you are unwell, & gone to Hastings .. & also that you care still to hear something of me– Forgive me. I have behaved worse than usual this winter about letter-writing in general, through having been more than commonly languid & uncomfortable .. the effect of the change from dear Italy, where my heart still is .... & my lungs .. (not to be too sentimental!.) Last july & august we spent in England, & no sooner had I set foot on the shore (which was into a puddle) than my cough siezed on me again & held me, more or less, through the whole two months, to the immense danger of my surviving patriotism. Coming back to Paris in September, the cough vanished, & the light clear air was appreciated to the utmost—but, during the winter, we have had at intervals some very bleak days, & I lost my voice for two months, which gave my husband a considerable advantage in our political discussions. I do wish that a like casualty might happen to certain editors of English newspapers just now, as they seem to have set their hearts on getting up a continental war presently & an insular panic meanwhile—a sad corollary to the famous shaking of hands in the glass palace last year– First, “Cain’s sacrifice” as you say, and then Cain’s blow. [2] French affairs are more complex than they appear to foreigners, and are very ill penetrated & comprehended by “our correspondents” in general. “Usurpation” [3] there has not been—“military despotism” [4] there is not .. and a “St Bartholomew’s massacre” [5] there never was at all– With all which, there is of course, much to sadden & irritate. With all which, .. I am hopeful .. & I recognize, in this extraordinary state of things, that the government is actually based more broadly upon the masses just now, than it ever was in 48– The French nation is most peculiar, & deeply interesting to me on many accounts– What facts are to other countries, ideas are to them. They are practical with their speculations. They struggle to hold their ideal in their hands, as we struggle for a “cheap loaf”—they must touch it, eat & drink it, carry it out & down into the actual–
Wherever we go we stand face to face with a revolution. It is curious.
No—we have not lived so shut up here as at Florence—though I, indeed, have been in the house throughout the winter from the necessities of my health. But I insisted on Robert’s going into society, because I felt sure it would be good for him .. & we might as well have remained in Florence as have made no use of the great social advantages here. For my part, I like living in a cave—& so does he, rather—but I am by no means confident that one is the better for that, in one’s soul & intellect. I am afraid the “world,” in the worst sense, is apt to slide in to one through the chinks of the rock– One’s charities get the cramp very often– One wraps oneself tightly up in spiritual flannels,—& there’s a collapse of the spiritual affections .. is or may be.
The society in Paris is of all colours of course .. & interesting sometimes—very. Now that my voice has come back, & that I am beginning to revive altogether under this brilliant sun, we are to know Lamartine, & Thierry, the blind historian. Certain journalists, too, we know, .. Eugene Pelletan of the Presse, & others .. with writer’s of more interest, because of genius–
M. Carré, (Mauger-Carré) connected with your churches, has often the goodness to come & talk to us. The ecclesiastical dogma is hard to me, I confess .. because I do not see the priestly authority out of Christ—neither does my husband .. but in the heart, I hope we go with him, .. reverencing his Christian devotedness, & joyfully trying to keep pace with him “as far as we are agreed.” [6] Do you know Mr Carré? His writings, you probably do, at least. It was a great pleasure to me when dear Mr Owen sate here an hour with him the other day—a great pleasure.
Our child will be soon three years old. He has earnest blue eyes, & a broad forehead shining out of a maze of golden ringlets. The lovingest, most spiritual little creature, I ever knew in the shape of a child—but too excitable, too intense—drawing, writing, singing, dancing, knowing all his letters, .. though we do all we can to keep him back .. for we dreaded a precocious child from the first—it does not mean much, you know. Also, a part of the fear has justified itself lately .. for the dear child, hitherto so absolutely healthful, has been attacked at nights with a sort of slight hysterical siezure .. involuntary laughter & spasmodic thrills through the frame .. to our great terror—only the medical men say it is not dangerous—&, indeed now, we may set him down as almost free from the symptoms– Such a dangerous treasure he is to us, in a world like this without locks & bolts—except for the clasping hand of God, which closes gently– Ah—we should trust it, without any mixture of fear. Dear Mr Owen said, the last time we saw him .. “Take care not to make an idol of that child.” Just afterwards, he was unwell—& my heart, in its panic, kept repeating to me, “Idol—idol”–
We are pleasantly situated in a very warm house on the Champs Elysées, with all sorts of comforts, such as English people insist on supposing peculiar to England .. carpets, easy chairs, & coal fires. We stay here till the middle of April, & probably a little longer—but afterwards our plans are much like the bird’s when he sings on a green bough– We talk of Italy & Jerusalem, .. even of England, for the summer months .. we are quite gypsies for roaming.
You, dear friend, are gone to Hastings, says Arabel, .. the reason being that you are less well than usual. Very, very sorry I am. May I hear how you are? God bless you & keep you. Remember me in prayer & love as
your most faithfully affectionate
Ba–
Did I say how I understood you to be absent from London when we were there? I meant to say that.
Address: Angleterre / Miss Dowglass / (Care of James Pollock Esqre M.D.) / 4. Chandos Street / Cavendish Square / London.
Publication: None traced.
Manuscript: Huntington Library.
1. Year provided by postmark.
2. See Genesis 4:3–8.
3. A term frequently applied to the coup d’état of 2 December 1851 and its aftermath by The Times, The Examiner, and other British periodicals. The Spectator of 13 December began its “News of the Week” column with the following statement: “The usurpation in France looks baser and blacker the more closely it is examined” (p. 1177). As recently as 24 February, The Times referred to the “French usurpation” (p. 4).
5. A point of comparison made by The Times in reference to the street fighting and consequent bloodshed in Paris on 4 December 1851; see letter 2992, note 2.
6. Cf. Amos 3:3.
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