3027. EBB to Eliza Anne Ogilvy
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 18, 67–73.
138. Avenue Ch. Elysées
March 18. [1852] [1]
I have behaved so undeniably ill, my ever dear friend, that I am very much ashamed of myself—and it does not improve the matter extremely, that I was on the point of writing to you when your second letter arrived. Yet if you could read my inmost feelings as well as you can even this page, I should not have to say to you “forgive me.” I have taken to be a great sinner lately about writing letters—everybody complaining of me the same way,—and my apparent bestial ingratitude .. to Mr Stuart for instance .. being almost beyond sackcloth & ashes. Ah—but dont punish me .. that’s all .. dont punish me with silence against silence .. an eye for an eye! Write daggers (if there are to be daggers) & use none otherwise. [2] If I had been at Florence, & you here this winter, I should have behaved more decently, I think– I have not been as well as usual .. for one thing .. though, of late, I have revived again, & am looking not much the worse perhaps for the fog on the Te Deum day. [3] We have had a sun during the present month, like a Florentine sun, almost .. a sun that burns, & necessitates parasols, & forces one to put the fire out– Nothing can be more absurd than to say that the climate of Paris does not materially excel what is found in London. It is altogether another thing. At the same time, I yearn back to my Florence– I love Florence to my heart. Paris is to Florence, a set of advantages against a set of attractions—though you must not think that I do not very much like Paris. Robert who “began with a little aversion,” [4] likes it even more than I do, I fancy, .. which is not surprising when you consider one thing with another, for he can breathe just as well in the cold as in the warm, & has gone a good deal into society, which I insisted upon– He might have stayed at Florence without loss, if he had shut himself up here, you know. That would have been absurd.
Always I have put off writing to you till I could write fully & at ease .. & little things have happened very vexatiously sometimes. For instance .. when your first letter came .. I was precisely then, wishing for a broad piece of one of Carlyle’s “eternal silences” [5] to wrap myself in .. wishing to be in a desert somewhere, with the sands overhead. Of all the birds in the air, fish in the sea, & beasts on dry land, I would rather, just then, have been an ostrich. Which did not make me less glad to receive your letter, understand, .. only loth to write a word in return, or indeed do anything in the world that I was’nt forced to do. So vexed I was .. so completely upset I was, by my dear friend Miss Mitford’s most affectionate intentions involving lamentable indiscretions .. by that clasp of her warm true hand which cut to the bone. Ah, you do not perhaps completely understand .. it is difficult perhaps for any .. for I do believe that I am morbid on some points. There’s an arrow which broke in me, & the common air makes the wound ache. I cannot bear one sort of word even from Robert .. & when he says “my poor little Ba, how they teaze her!” perhaps his very tenderness does unconsciously imply this knowledge of some weak childishness on my part. Certainly the idea of unnameable agonies being pulled up out of their dark hole, & classed & ticketed & held up to the public, was horrible to me, & turned me sick, almost to fainting– Not that I had courage to read the paragraphs in question. It was enough to have them suggested, & to know that such things were going the round of the English newspapers, as something very entertaining indeed. Good Heavens! how hard it is for one’s best friends to know one. She meant very well—she meant really to please me!!!– She did not say I think, that I had red hair or blue eyes, yet she mistook the colour of the heart as completely.
Yet I had got over all this a good deal– The soreness returns, on the use made of the materials so supplied, at the Collége de France, by M. Philaret Chasles, who has been lecturing about me the last two tuesdays. We heard of it accidentally from my uncle who happened to be there, & Robert went yesterday to hear the rest of it– M. Chasles, not finding the Mitford story sufficiently romantic for his ends, embroidered deeply with gold & silk, & produced a tragedy about a fiancé, which would have done honour, Robert says, to Dumas himself– Not one word of truth from beginning to end, but the most picturesque details (en revanche) [6] including the “waving of handkerchiefs,” the consolations received “in farmhouses,” & final residences in “magnificent palaces of the Medici,” called Casa Guidi. One poem of mine, “The Poet’s Vow” was written, do you know, to reclaim Robert from “pantheism” in which he was deeply dyed—“ce poete obscur, mystique .. du reste celebre”– [7] M. de Tocqueville [8] said to an acquaintance of ours that “he & the friends who were with him, were offended by the indelicacy of the whole exhibition, .. that such things were not commonly done in France, & could only be considered ungentlemanly.” Lie upon lie, too—lies heaped up, pressed down, & running over. The animus, excessively kind, it is right to say. But lie or no lie, & whatever the animus .. to be cut up alive on the anatomical table, seems to me a hideous fate for a woman .. even though it be done with a golden knife & by her particular friend—even though it be done in the Collége de France & by a kindly inclined lecturer– Cut up my poems & welcome .. cut them up heart & brain .. probe & burn .. I never yet complained of what was done to any work of mine. But my me should be safe till I am dead. These nerves, this live flesh, should be forborne, while they can yet quiver & shrink. I should be let alone (I who never did much harm to anybody) to build wooden houses on the floor with my child, a short time longer. Surely one may love Art, yet keep the door shut–
All which vexation is nothing of course, beside the fear I had about my darling. Robert says I exaggerate .. & the panic I had one night was not justified by the occasion—still, it was natural to be frightened, for he rolled his eyes & did not recognize us for a quarter of a minute .. that was plain. Robert was out then– I sent out for him & bade him bring the physician of the embassy .. but by the time they came, the child was in a deep sleep, & Dr Macarthy assured us that much could not certainly be wrong while a sleep so tranquil was possible. He came again the next day & examined the little creature carefully—eyes, skin, expression, stomach, head .. “The child was in perfect health it seemed to him quite clear, & he could not conscientiously tear him to pieces with medecines.” He ordered quiet, & the sixth part of half a grain of ‘Bella donna’ every night, & so took leave as a professional visitor. Two double teeth are coming, the twenty first & second, but the gums, though swollen, are not inflamed, & there has been no pretext for using the lancet– I think myself we were too slow about giving medecine. Dr Macarthy said it was a tendency to hysterical convulsion through some over excitement of the system .. the teeth probably abetting. Since then, he has had no attack to frighten one, though nearly always after waking in the morning, there has been something of the sort, .. only more & more slight– You would observe nothing, if you were not watching. If you watched, you would see a catching of the breath, for half a minute at a time, just as if he were plunged into cold water, .. accompanied generally with a slight quiver through the legs .. then he laughs, .. & immediately (without transition) begins singing quietly to himself, & beating time to the music with his hands. It’s the most curious affection you ever saw, I am confident. When it’s at all bad, he fixes his eyes for a moment looking upward with a seraphical look– The cheeks are redder than usual. When I have said, “Dont laugh, darling; why do you laugh,” the answer came sadly, “Peninni no bene, [9] Mamma.” There seems to be a sort of discomfort, which he expresses by kissing us all passionately, as if we were to help him. As to fretfulness or anything like it, it seems impossible to the child– His disposition is angelical to a degree which makes my blood run cold sometimes. When I have been wrapping his feet in a warm flannel, he has caught hold of my sleeve & kissed it, saying “Mamma è buona.” [10] Well, but at last I may thank God & admit that the evil seems gradually wearing itself out—indeed I may almost call it gone within the last few days. The curious thing is, that since the child has been an “invalid,” he has seemed to everybody to particularly grow & flourish– Appetite good, sleep sound, spirits unquencheable. When the teeth are through, we shall be all right I hope & pray. Thank you gratefully my dear kind friend, for your excellent advice on guarding him from the excitement of too much amusement. I think you are right, & we have been ill advised very often. He is now banished from the face of Punch, & taken out to walk beyond the ‘barrière’. [11] He has too many ideas in his head, & is far too exciteable in every way.
So very sorry I am that you should have been anxious too about your boy– Only, .. remember (so at least Dr Chambers says) what is commonly called chicken-pox, is nothing but a modification of small pox—and thus, one of the dangerous possibilities of life, is escaped through his illness– He must be a darling, & I long to see him—indeed I long to see all the dear children, to say nothing of hearing Marcia talk. I dare say she talks better than Wiedeman, though he is tremendously loquacious after the manner of the Sphinxes– Should you understand “a roasted apple” I wonder, by “uno pomme yoicko” (arrostito.)?
Oh yes—we shall be in Paris still I think, early in May, & very glad we shall be then to take an apartment for you near us, & very delighted to have you near us again. Take care of yourself, & dont be too tired on the road, if you can help it–
With regard to politics, .. no, I am “pleased” with nothing very much– I like compression of journals no better than the journalists do, nor confiscation of Orleans property, than the Orleanists themselves– I do not even hold fast to model constitutions– A Buonapartist, I am not indeed in any sense, although Wiedeman compromises me a good deal by his favorite cry of “Viva Peone” (Napoleone.) which people say I teach him. But what I differ from you all in completely, is (I think modestly) some comprehension of a most difficult & exceptional situation, some effort towards guessing at the nature of motives & impelling causes, .. much hope therefore for the future, .. & a most ineffable indignation & shame for the tone taken up in England. The misrepresentation of facts, the gross falsifications & exaggerations of the English press .. from our friend the Examiner, to the Quarterly Review, have profoundly disgusted me,—& the “invasion cry” the burden of all, is still more puerile & considerably more immoral, it seems to me, than the “ecclesiastical titles” [12] cry last year, was. I feel really grateful to the Cobdens & Humes for talking a little sense, [13] where the poet laureate failed. [14] The whole French situation has been mistaken to a degree which would be ludicrous if it were not lamentable .. to a degree which history will scoff at, & which I (for one,) have often been inclined to shed hot tears upon, in the fear of possible consequences to that mistake– Great irritation was caused by the English journals among the French .. & I dont mean the Buonapartists. I heard one of the most loyal & noble of men, a man of the highest intellect, [15] (much more Anglomane in general than I am) admit that it was scarcely possible for a frenchman to keep his temper in the face of such falsehood & insult. “England means well to us, I believe .. but it is certainly shameful to the press of England, that correspondents should be employed who pick up lies in the mud & call them facts.” The great fact is (when all has been said & sworn about military despotism & the rest) the great fact is, that Louis Napoleon stands entirely at this moment by the democracy, & that the apprehension should be, of his going too far with measures in the ultra-popular sense– There’s the danger just now. It’s the very reverse of what has been predicted by certain prophets. The bourgeoisie, which approved of the coup d’etat, shrinks back, but the people press nearer & nearer. The Orleanistic decree was very popular with the people, for instance, from the first .. & the late financial [6] measures have commended themselves much to the masses– [16] His tendencies are that way, most clearly. But I do not think, myself, that he will touch socialistical extremes—he has too much ability & has considered the subject too deeply for it, I think. I hold him to be a man of very extraordinary powers, & to have the Napoleon blood in him, let the scandalmongers swear what they please– Guizot says too that he is honest—so does George Sand—so, does our noble friend M. Milsand .. all three of them eschewing Buonapartism, & constituting together a high testimony, to my mind—& to Robert’s .. though Robert says frankly that having a “personal hatred” to the man (& the blood, he might add) he has not patience to analyze things very closely. Sympathy with the monarchical parties we have none,—and if the extreme Reds had carried their alternative, France would probably have perished. The Marrast constitution [17] had become an impossibility. You should examine the socialistic ideas as stated by their writers, to judge if liberty could have been greater with the Louis Blancs than the Louis Napoleons; Louis Blanc’s great doctrine being political centralization,—& the suppression of all journals except one in the right sense, being, according to Cabet, a condition of a perfectly “free state.” [18] Also, we shall have more liberty presently—we must be patient & wait. The decrees are not “carried out”—for instance, you get as usual all the English journals—more freely than ever under Louis Phillippe.
We made our way to George Sand with the greatest difficulty, & with all the stones of the enchanted mountain calling us back. [19] But she received us most cordially, & “likes us,” it appears, which pleases me extremely. My heart beat when we met first, & in the natural emotion of that moment, I stooped & kissed the hand she held out to me, .. but she said quickly “non, je ne veux pas,” [20] & kissed my lips– She has radiant black eyes & a noble forehead, but the mouth is not good, & the smile of it rather flashes than shines, over the white projecting teeth. Her glossy hair, very dark, & braided back from the face. Never was a more simple woman.
Robert knows Lamartine too, but I could’nt go with him—last saturday when he went– I would run the risk of my life, only to see George Sand. Yes– I went out, too, to buy toys for Wiedeman on his birthday; & Robert & I nearly ruined ourselves on that occasion, spending fifteen francs & a half!–
Robert was only an acquaintance, not a friend of poor Eliot Warburton—but the event shocked him much– [21] Mrs Warburton was in a state of distraction at first—she is expecting the birth of her third child,—the eldest being not much older than ours. [22] You should read Madme Ossoli’s memoirs, though it is a heartbreaking book. A noble woman, indeed!– Carlyle says that Robert’s essay is “the first human voice he has heard for ever so long” [23] —but you see what a scrape we are all in about the forgery-conviction. Still, Robert is not implicated any wise. God bless you all– Our love to Mr Ogilvy, & your sister– I have written at last I think.
Your ever affectionate EBB.
When dear Mr Ogilvy calls next on Mr Otley, [24] will he leave this note for M. Centofanti in the mezzanino. It takes Casa Guidi on for another year– But our plans remain uncertain.
N.B– Blouses are not worn here by children as young as Allesandro. [25] I asked a high mantua-making authority about Wiedeman—& she quite smiled & said, “not before two or three years.”
Love to the darlings– A Mr Shore [26] enquires about you, & speaks of Miss Dick as being celebrated in India for refusing everybody!!—— Can you read this? I have scribbled so fast that I fear for the results.
Address: Italie / À Madame / Madame Ogilvy / Poste Restante / Firenze, / Toscana.
Publication: EBB-EAHO, pp. 66–75.
Manuscript: Eton College Library.
1. Year provided by postmark.
2. Cf. Hamlet, III, 2, 396.
4. Cf. Sheridan, The Rivals (1775), I, 2, 243.
5. Cf. Sartor Resartus (1838) in which Carlyle states: “Speech is of Time, Silence is of Eternity” (p. 227).
6. “However.”
7. “This obscure poet, mystical .. besides, celebrated.”
8. Alexis Charles Henri Maurice Clérel de Tocqueville (1805–59), historian and statesman, was the author of De la démocratie en Amérique (1835–1840) and L’Ancien régime et la Révolution (1856). The “acquaintance” mentioned was Charlotte Williams-Wynn; see the end of the fourth paragraph in letter 3028.
9. “Not well.”
10. “Mama is good.”
13. Joseph Hume (1777–1855), M.P. for Montrose, and Richard Cobden (1804–65), M.P. for West Riding, Yorkshire, had in the previous month voiced their opposition to the militia bill introduced by the prime minister, Lord John Russell. In the 16 February 1852 session in the House of Commons, reported in The Times the following day, Hume declared: “The present measure was a preparation against the possibility of attack from France. Why should France have an interest in attacking this country? The interest of France was to keep peace. Yet we told the French that we would not trust to their declarations, and armed ourselves against attack from them. … There was nothing which had been said by the noble lord, nothing on the face of Europe, which justified an increase of force” (p. 2). Cobden rose in amplification of Hume’s remarks: “The argument used is that you are afraid of being invaded by France—the whole argument is founded on the fear of invasion. If you are sincere in using it, the first thing you must do to satisfy me of that sincerity is to order home those large vessels, which are comparatively useless where they are now placed, to your own shores, for the purpose of protecting you” (p. 3). Cobden went on to agree with Russell that the English press was fomenting the fear of a French invasion but emphasized that the expansion of the militia by “80,000 men—to set up this force with an elastic organization, which may become 110,000 or 120,000 men, I say then the noble lord will do far more than the press of this country … to put us in a state of antagonism with the French people” (p. 3).
14. EBB alludes to the patriotic poems that Alfred Tennyson had published anonymously in The Examiner earlier in the year. All dealt with the subject of a French invasion: “Britons, Guard Your Own” (issue of 31 January), “Hands All Round,” and “The Third of February, 1852” (the latter two in the issue of 7 February).
15. i.e., Joseph Milsand.
16. In its France section under the heading “Financial Measures,” The Daily News for 6 March 1852 carried a translation of a letter and news item that ran in Le Moniteur of 4 March. A decree had just been issued containing five articles concerning an agreement between the French Treasury and the Bank of France. Among other provisions, the bank’s discount rate and its regular interest rate were to be lowered from four to three percent. Additionally, the bank was authorized to loan money on the collateral of railway shares and bonds. In a letter to Le Moniteur, the French minister of finance wrote: “It will be a considerable advantage for every possessor of these securities to find thus at the Bank money, at a low rate of interest, on the deposit or the transfer of his securities, and on his signature” (p. 4).
17. The constitution of 1848; see letter 2997, note 3.
18. In Voyage en Icarie (1840), which contains Cabet’s vision for an ideal state, he writes in the chapter entitled “Journaux” that only one journal is to be permitted for each commune, one journal for each province, and one national journal for the nation. He argues for the establishment of a political and social organization that renders a hostile, competing press unnecessary.
19. An allusion to the story of “The Sisters Who Envied Their Younger Sister” in The Arabian Nights.
20. “No, I do not wish it.”
21. As reported in The Times of 7 January 1852 (p. 5), Eliot Warburton (1810–52) was one of 140 people who perished on 4 January when the mail steamer Amazon, en route to South America, caught fire and sank off Land’s End. According to the ODNB, Warburton had been “deputed by the Atlantic and Pacific Junction Company to negotiate with the Indian peoples on the Isthmus of Darien.”
22. Eliot Warburton and his wife Matilda Jane (1819–61), second daughter of Edward Grove, of Shenstone Park, Staffordshire, had two sons: George Hartopp Eliot (1848–1922) and Piers Grove Eliot (1850–1927). We have been unable to confirm whether Mrs. Warburton was pregnant at this time; there is no record of a third child.
23. Paraphrased from letter 3021.
24. Presumably Charles Otley (1796–1867), an Englishman residing in Florence. In 1863 he arranged lodgings for George Peabody’s visit to the city, an indication that he may have been an agent for lettings.
25. i.e., Alexander Ogilvy, who was about three and a half years old at this time.
26. Richard Nowell Shore, Bengal civil servant, was at this time on long leave in Europe with his family; see letter 2982, note 11.
___________________
