3174. EBB to Henrietta Cook
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 19, 1–6.
Florence–
March 4. [1853] [1]
My beloved ever dear Henrietta, I have written but two days since to Arabel, yet I must write to you today. [2] May God bless you & keep you, & yours and make all four faces to shine one on another, taking & giving happiness. You are richer than I, in having two babies—but I say to myself flatteringly that I have one who is worth two .. (there is nothing personal in it, Henrietta, .. I dont mean your two!) and so I have my compensations. I wish, when you write, you would tell me everything great & small about both the treasures. How are Altham’s curls? I warn you, Henrietta, against cutting the hair of either of those children. Most obstinate I have been, in the care of Penini’s, .. most resolved, in spite of the advice of everybody almost, .. not even to “snip the ends”—and his hair grows thicker & thicker, curls strongly, & gives no sign of a tendency to split at the extremities. If you once cut it, it always splits if you dont go on to cut it. It grows darker too—it is in a highly satisfactory state. Oh– I do wish I were sitting beside you, in spite of your English frost, just to look in your face & kiss you, & see those treasures of yours! Only after about half an hour, I would come back to Florence, not to leave my body on your sofa, which would not be particularly amusing to you. You know, dont you, that I love you constantly, & wish from the bottom of my heart all sorts of good & joy to you? Yes, indeed.
You see we are not at Rome yet, and if this weather lasts I dont know when we shall be. It is very cold this morning—but, though we have had snow (which melted however as it came down) & though all the mountains round are white with stationary snow which makes the winds bleak, there has been no frost, no fog, .. & one cant expect to pass through a winter without any adversity. I am tolerably well .. not quite as bright as in the warm days, .. but by no means badly off– In Rome there is persistent rain, we hear, & much ill health. We shall lose Easter there, I dare say, but afterwards appartments will be cheaper. Are you surprised that meanwhile we would have taken on our house at Florence? Robert did it just for me—so I shall have it on my conscience if we should be unsuccessful in the letting. But I do love this house—there’s the truth—and I could not bear the idea of tearing it all to pieces when it is so comfortable & artistic-looking. “Like a room in a novel” this room has been called. Oh, Henrietta! I am so tired this morning!– Mr Tennyson (the poet’s brother) came last night to have tea with us, & stayed till half past twelve. Sitting up destroys me, & my head almost dropped off my shoulders with aching. I do hope you go to bed early. Nothing wastes the vital energies so much as a persistancy in late hours, & want of sleep. And I must tell you that we always breakfast at nine oclock, come what may .. which is a great reformation since we were in England, and gives us whole ribbands of long bright morning time which I, for one, would’nt be without for the world. Robert has the virtue to get up regularly at seven oclock– He is longer dressing than I am, & does’nt mind waiting breakfast for me a little—because, you see I cant get up till Wilson is ready for me, & she has to dress Penini before she comes in to me. Keeping such early morning hours, we must go to bed early you see—and I groan naturally over vigils to past midnight– Mr Tennyson is an immense favorite of Robert’s—indeed so he is of mine. He is a loveable, upright truthful person, interesting in many ways—an earnest Christian too, which is a pleasant thing to meet with, .. but rather, rather heavy in conversation, it must be allowed. He cares a great deal for music as well as poetry, and performs on the piano himself. He seems to care as much for Robert as Robert does for him—they are warm friends. Miss Sandford [3] is a new visitor of ours, & she comes to us once a week or oftener, to pass the evening. She is one of an enormously rich family—her father keeps two carriages .. but she enjoys nothing of all of it .. her love lying in quite another direction. I like her for her earnestness & affectionateness, & we have fallen into an intimacy quite suddenly. It was her sister who was bridesmaid to Kate Hedley. [4] Arabel says of the Hedleys that she supposes they are in mourning for Mr Cuthbert. [5] Not at all! They keep clear of mourning for him, as they did for aunt Clarke. Why, you see they are travelling & not likely to be seen by his family, & so they make the most of these advantages. Kate is amiable, & makes Robin very happy. It is really delightful to see him—he has grown radiant .. quite like another person. I never saw anyone so improved in my life. He always asked about you, Henrietta, as if really he cared for you. Their plans are perfectly unsettled, but they seemed to think it probable that they may spend next winter in Paris. Robin began by protesting that he would only live in England—but I doubt much whether he keeps & is likely to keep sturdily to the same patriotic mind.
I forgot to tell you Henrietta, that you were perfectly misinformed about Louis Napoleon’s excluding females from the throne. Ever since France has been a nation, females have been excluded from the throne, & the daughters of Louis Napoleon are equally excluded as a matter of course.
One thing I forgot too, to tell Arabel. When Mr Lytton was here long ago talking of mesmerism, he told me that several clairvoyantes had declared to his father (.. the said clairvoyantes being unconnected with one another ..) that an accident was hanging over him—not a fatal but a serious accident– Mr Lytton, who is full of faith in these things, said to us that “he had been uneasy about it & afraid when every letter came, but that, as three months had passed away, he began to conclude that there must be some mistake!– Only it was curious that these clairvoyantes should have all made the same mistake”. The other day, in comes Robert from the reading room .. “Bulwer has had an accident with his arm & cant attend the House of Commons .. a serious accident.” [6] I siezed upon Robert—“What do you say? an accident?” “Why Ba,” said Robert, “its not young Lytton, it’s his father.” Which made me laugh—and then I explained that I was’nt thrown into so much agitation by my sympathies, but by my interest in science,—reminding Robert of the prophecy, which he had never thought of since. Tell Arabel this, because it really is curious. I dare say you have seen the fact of the accident in the newspapers.
Another thing too, I forgot to tell Arabel when I wrote to her, which relates to us more nearly. One of Robert’s plays “Colombe’s Birthday,” is coming out at the Haymarket about April perhaps. You will remember that it is an old printed play of his, & understand that he never thought of suggesting such a thing out of his own head. Helen Faucit (now Mrs Martin) wrote to ask his permission to act it, as she wishes to come out herself in Colombe. There was nothing for it but to say yes, of course. If there is a success it will be a good thing for us in a pecuniary point of view, &, if not, there will be no harm done.
Dearest Henrietta, I scarcely feel anxious about the result of Surtees’s letter, [7] because that has been clear to me from the beginning. The letter will not be answered, I think,—or, if answered, you will wish it had not been—which will be worse still. God knows it would be very, very great comfort to me if you were received back into forgiveness—it would comfort me much for any continual severance of myself. I would rather indeed that you were forgiven than that I were!– I would rather,—as God knows! But it will not be, Henrietta!– Sad for us—sadder for him! God bless him! God love him better than he has loved some of us.
Is Susan with you now? [8] Give her my love if she is. Do you amuse her properly? Tell me what you do. Your account of your establishment is most satisfactory, but if I were you I would struggle to get Martha up in her cooking. If she has genius, & you have a cookery book, it might be done, I should think. Our man, Vincenzio, does well in that respect, & is otherwise the most regular & attentive of servants—much to Wilson’s contentment, who declares she never was so comfortable since we kept house—not a moment waited for breakfast, or dinner! He is rigorous in his duties– So that we have’nt a hair’s breadth excuse for asking him to leave us, poor man,—while I am vicious enough to feel a little ashamed of him,—he looks so like a groom .. by no means of the chambers. We are paying the best wages & hope at Rome to have a gentlemanly looking servant .. to which we certainly have’nt attained here. Penini talks Italian to Vincenzio & to Girolama, the little dressmaker, who often comes here to have dinner, purely to please Penini. She is so very little (.. shorter by the head & shoulders than I am ..) that he considers her a sort of comrade & friend .. & she has quite taken the place of the balia [9] in his favour. The poor balia is going terribly wrong, & comes here as seldom as she can, through consciousness—not that I ever should be severe on her, or forget that she has given milk to my child. He however is offended because she does’nt come, & talks of her disparagingly at times. Such a darling that child is, Henrietta. Such graceful winning ways the child has—so loving, so sentimental!—if not like a boy, yet so much like an angel! Indeed he has a fraternity with the angels & longs for them– He said lately .. “I lite to have an angel .. an angel in a light .. wiz wings, and no dless on!” (no dress on.) Where he gets his ideas I cant make out.– He saw a lame man go into a church when he was walking out the other day .. “Lily, I know why dlat man is going in dlat lurch.” “Why?” said Wilson. “Betause he wants to ask God to give him a good leg.” In this room, the new testament fell off my table .. “O Mama,” he exclaimed, picking it up, .. “poor God’s book!”!—— He says to Robert or me sometimes, “Good night mine darling! God bless you”. The little sweet “dear Papas” & “dear Mamas” are ineffable for the joy they give. Only I am still rather jealous of Robert who is the favorite. When I want more kisses, I am sometimes told—“No—no more! all mine ollers kisses are Papa’s. I tant dive them away—they are all marked wiz Papa’s name.” Henrietta, Robert & I were talking of you before him, & I observed that he had seen so little of you he could’nt be expected to remember much about you. On which he broke out—“Oh, les, Mama! I memember tuite well. I memember her wiz lis litty baby, and the toys, and lis carriage, and Penini drove lis baby.” Instantly he insisted on writing a letter to Altham which however was dropt in the middle. He has a passion for writing letters. What he talks is purely English—& he explained to Wilson that she was’nt to speak any more Italian to him, “betause now I tan peat Inglese”. He said he intended for the future to speak Italian, only to Vi[n]cenzio, Girolama & the balia. He speaks it very tolerably, but by no means as fluently as English, which surprises me rather. Mind you write me back as many details as I send you! Too many cant be, to please me. When the cold diminishes, you & Surtees will have to manage your garden, dig it & plant it– I envy you rather the pleasure of a garden. Wilson was saying before Penini, that if we were here in the summer she would like to have some plants on the terrace before the nursery window. “No,” said Penini interrupting .. “I want to peat to you one minute! I [10] lite a velly large garden, wiz four fountains, and some fishes in the middle, and flowers all round.” Oh, I assure you, my child is more ambitious than I am. He has no idea of plants upon terraces! not he!–
A small garden is however to my mind, far more enjoyable than a large one, & your soil & climate in Somersetshire will admit of a great deal of green & bright beauty in a little room.
How do you comfort yourself, Henrietta, for the absence of Surtees in the discharge of his military duties? [11] With the babies, I suppose, and with Susan. Do you practice on the guitar? do you sing? do you draw? have you any amusing books—or any books at all? Do you receive many visitors? do people come in to tea unexpectedly or otherwise? Last week, five evenings out of the seven we had somebody here—we never have a party, observe—but people fall in for coffee & talk. Did I tell you that Sophia Cottrell’s boy [12] is a fine little fellow? not exactly pretty. We dont see much of them. I have not seen Mrs Gordon’s face. Count Cottrell is away on a visit to the Duke of Lucca at Hyêres. I wonder if anybody has heard of Mary Minto .. once so called .. I forget her present name at this moment. [13] Have you heard that we are going to Constantinople in the summer, on a visit to the American minister? [14] We should both enjoy it,—& not hesitate in agreeing to it at once—but the means are wanting. It would cost at least thirty pounds to go—sixty, to go & come. And we have to see Rome & Naples before we see Paris. I suppose you are tied by the militia & that you wont get to London this spring—shall you?
It must be an immense advantage to you to have a skilful nurse– [15] Also it is better economy, I am sure. Tell me of the baby .. little dear Mary. Is she pretty? You would think Wiedeman much improved, he has such round rosy cheeks, & such firm arms. He looks stronger than he did .. & has a much better appetite.
God bless you! Robert’s best love with mine to you & Surtees, & kisses to the treasures. May you be happier & happier. Here am I, in the seventh year of marriage, happier than on the seventh day! The love not only stays, but grows. Thank God for
Your ever attached Ba.
Address: Angleterre viâ France. / Mrs Surtees Cook / Wilton / Taunton / Somersetshire.
Publication: Huxley, pp. 176–180 (in part).
Manuscript: British Library.
1. Year provided by postmark.
2. On Henrietta’s 44th birthday.
3. Jane Wills-Sandford.
4. Either Ellen or Caroline Wills-Sandford; see letter 3151, note 7.
5. William Cuthbert (1778–1853) of Beaufront Castle, Northumberland, Robin Hedley’s uncle by marriage, died on 31 January 1853. He had married Ann (née Hedley, 1792–1828), the sister of Robin’s father, in 1812.
8. Susannah Cook, Henrietta’s sister-in-law, had been staying with the Cooks at Taunton since 22 January 1853 and would remain until July (see Surtees, 14 July 1853).
9. “Wet nurse.”
10. Underscored twice.
11. Surtees was probably on recruiting assignment for the 1st Somerset Militia.
12. Henry Edward Plantagenet Cottrell.
13. Ruxton.
14. George Perkins Marsh; see letter 3167, note 21.
15. Esther King; see letter 3165, note 2.
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