3116. EBB to Henrietta Cook
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 18, 222–224.
58 Welbeck street.
Thursday. [Postmark: 16 September 1852]
My ever dearest Henrietta, thank you, thank you for your dear letter. I could not help smiling sorrowfully over it, where you say that the fact of a written answer is an improvement upon last year’s silence. You might as well affirm (as Robert illustrates) that a kick down stairs is an improvement upon a “summons to quit,” on account of the juxtaposition. No, Henrietta– Nothing could be worse than the manner of the written answer—of that, you may be sure. I have looked tenderly & even pityingly at all these things, always trying to conjecture the best,—but it was, I confess to you, with a revulsion of feeling that I read that letter .. written after six years, with the plain intention of giving me as much pain as possible– It is an unnatural letter, & the evidence of hardness of heart (towards me, at least), is unmistakeable– May God alter these facts—men cannot deny them. I have a child myself– I know something of the parental feeling– There can be no such feeling, .. there never can have been any such .. where that letter was produced. Certainly the effect of it is anything but to lead me to repentance. Am I to repent that I did not sacrifice my life and its affections to the writer of that letter? [1] Indeed, no–
Dearest Henrietta, how eagerly & anxiously we are waiting for good news from you! The rest of the caps shall go to you in a day or two. Arabel declares that never, never will she depend upon me for the accoutrements of her first born—she has registered that vow. I am perfectly ashamed of myself, and if you thank me again, I shall take it for mockery. So you are resolved on the “little girl.” Be right, mind, on every account. At the same time, I am not so sure about it as you are.
Just then, came in George & Arabel– The Hedleys arrived last night, & remain this day in London on their way, I think, to Tunbridge Wells. They left their luggage behind by rail, & Arabel had to relieve their ‘utter destitution’ from her own wardrobe. George looks all the better for his tour—and this morning Henry went upon his, to Ireland, and of course we shall not be here on his return. Papa was liberal to him—gave him twenty pounds .. I am very happy to say.
As for our plans, we are almost sure, I think, not to see Rome this winter—and even Florence, Robert seems to conclude, will be beyond our means. You see, the journey would take thirty pounds at least, and we are not prepared for such a pull just now. Oh—I did not thank you for the interesting sketch of your house. I went through all the details with the pleasure you may suppose I should take in what so nearly & day-by-day concerns you—and, Henrietta, you must have really a pretty home, .. though you despise my suggestions of architectural improvement altogether. How pretty the trees must be, how green & pleasant the look out! Have you a sunny aspect? is the house warm? When the “children” run about the lawn, how you will like to stare out of the windows!
Wilson was to have come home last tuesday, but I wrote to give her another week, poor thing. She told me that she never could make up her mind to leave Wiedeman,—& really I a little wondered that she should have ever thought she could. If our means should improve we would raise her wages of course, and meanwhile she may try to be content. Robert Hedley’s wife gives to her maid only eighteen pounds, she paying for her own washing, .. which must cost more than two pounds a year. I miss Wilson dreadfully of course, but I “get through the work”, and Wiedeman is very very good, .. almost too good, I think, sometimes. He is absorbed in his drawings for hours together,—and, since she left him, he has learnt seven baby poems in English, beginning with “Ba, Ba, black sheep”, & ending with “Busy, curious, thirsty fly.” [2] He learns them very fast, and if you heard him repeat them, you might guess the language to be Chinese or Sanscrit at discretion. I am by no means sure, that he will like to surrender me when Wilson comes back. He has already intimated that he would rather go on sleeping with Mama, giving up one corner of the bed to Wilson– “C’é posto”—[‘]‘there’s room enough.”
For the present, Robert is turned out of his room, & occupies Wilson’s.
Wiedeman wakes me in the morning with a quantity of hugging and kissing—“O buona Mamma!” [3] and then he pulls open my eyes.
No! Nothing seen or heard of Sarianna’s suitor! [4] I despair, I confess. Mr Browning has been unwell in Paris and in very low spirits. I am afraid he will be difficult to transplant at his age & with his fixed habits. How glad I should be if we were rich enough to pay the money & bring him back to his own country. But everybody advises against the paying, Mr Kenyon as loudly as the loudest. Robert & Peninni have gone out in the carriage with Mr Kenyon, and I was to have gone too, if the wind had not been so cold. But this horrible climate is beginning to put out its grippes, & I must take care–
God bless you my beloved sister! Every post reminds me of you anxiously. What I would give to be near you & to let you pull off my head as once I nearly pulled off Robert’s. [5] But you have Surtees’s head, which is better—to say nothing of his heart, which indeed I value as it deserves.
Kiss the darling for me, & love your ever attached
Ba.
Address: Mrs Surtees Cook. / Wilton / Taunton / Somersetshire.
Publication: Huxley, pp. 167–168 (in part).
Manuscript: British Library.
1. EBB announced her intention of writing to her father in letter 3102. He had responded. We have been unable to trace any further communication from him to her. The last time Edward Moulton-Barrett had written to EBB occurred shortly after her marriage (see the first paragraph of letter 2621).
2. Title and first line of a poem by William Oldys (1696–1761), published in 1732. “Baa, Baa, Black Sheep,” is a well-known nursery rhyme, first published in 1744.
3. “O good Mama!”
4. Unidentified. Years later, RB remarked to Daniel Curtis that Sarianna “might have married, but devoted her life to her parents” (Diary of Daniel Sargent Curtis, 12 November 1885, ms at Marciana).
5. When EBB was in labor with Pen; see the first paragraph of letter 2896.
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