3477. EBB to Sarah Blake Shaw
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 20, 322–324.
Florence.
October 14. 1854.
Dearest Mrs Shaw, it is delightful to Robert & me to see your handwriting & to know that you do not forget us. If you, on your part, knew how we have talked our feeling out about you, (we two together sitting on the sofa) you would understand our being glad at a word from you thrown over the mountains. There are differences between us: he does’nt “serve tables” nor believe properly in Swedenborg—and I am over-credulous about spirits (as well as virtuous human creatures)—but we agree much more than we ever differ,—agreeing in loving the good & the true in all varieties of development. Which brings me back to the point of your having struck a sympathetic note in each of us– Dont put down the wrong pedal & muffle us therefore– Dont go to America & forget us ever. Mind to think of [us] in some such kind words as you have written in this letter.
By the present time you will have reached Paris where we certainly shall not be during the next winter. The obstacles which prevented our going north this year are not likely to occur next summer, & we have a great deal of printing business to look to in London– Still we have but a wandering star, and it’s possible we may be at the other end of the world instead—perhaps at Jerusalem in the cooler weather. You cant rely upon us for the north or south, the east or west .. as to our movements I mean:—for otherwise, & if we do go through Paris & get to London & meet you in the latter place as you promise, you certainly may rely on it’s being a great pleasure to both of us–
I was disappointed on some accounts on finding that we were disabled from going north this summer. We could’nt even get to the Baths of Lucca & were transfixed at Florence. Florence however was generous & gave us a most splendid summer, tempering the heat, & throwing off the cholera—and we have had the joy of seeing our child, about whom chiefly we were anxious, recovering his roundness & his roses in the very teeth of the dog-days. He looks now quite a different little creature from the pale, puny, almost invalid, we rescued from that fatal “Bocca di Leone.” He’s a rose again, thank God, and “as alive as a nosegay,” to use a phrase of his own. Also, & apart from Penini, we have had a most enjoyable summer, & scarcely ever have I been more happy, to speak for myself. There has been a quantity of quiet, you see,—undisturbed reading & writing, & talking over it through the warm moonshiney evenings .. to say nothing of delicious walks, among nightingales & fireflies such as you remember, to our friends at the villas. Then Mrs Sartoris has been backwards & forwards from Lucca, almost living with us on her Florentine days—and she’s as loveable & true as she’s gifted, and sings in her talk & speaks in her singing– A great artist certainly—and a beautiful woman when she sings– Hatty Hosmer is to model from her face (the mouth, nose & brow) for an Andromache. [1] Perhaps you did not hear that your friend Miss Hensler [2] met us all at Miss Channing’s the San Giovanni festa night, [3] & that Mrs Sartoris sang divinely, & drew tears down the cheeks of the young debutante .. who said afterwards ingenuously .. “Oh—I cannot sing like that. I know it well.” Mrs Sartoris replied with gentleness—“Why, you know, it would be sad for me if you could, at your age, when I am at mine.” It was pretty on both sides. She praised Miss Hensler’s voice in a way you would have liked to hear.
We were sorry to lose our friends the other day, Mrs Sartoris having carried with her back to Rome, dear Hatty Hosmer whom Robert & I are both very <…> [4] ve seen a great deal <…> comes the still, tranquil winter, & there’s good in quiet, you know. Without, are cannons, Minié rifles, & all Russians– [5] What an exciting time! Meanwhile I hear wonderful things about the spirits from a Mr Jarves a countryman of yours, (who has written about Paris, [6] by the way) & who brings us nearly every week the most petrifying letters to read– Talking of which, I have seen Judge Edmonds’ book, & dont believe the least in the world in his spirits. I mean I dont believe that he has spoken with either Bacon or Swedenborg. Not I. If he has, both souls have deteriorated hideously,—& if we fell so much below ourselves, immortality would’nt be worth while. Besides, the individual characteristics are all wanting in both. I dont doubt the facts, but the amount of personation introduces an uncomfortable element into the subject.
And so, goodbye, dearest Mrs Shaw. No, first let me tell you that we have just heard from dear Mr Page, who has left off smoking & finds himself the better for it. His family is at Albano still–
Robert maintains his “brother” hood by sending his love. I shall be a little anxious to hear the effect on you of the Paris winter. Dont be too daring. With kindest remembrances & wishes to Mr Shaw & all yours, <***>
Publication: None traced.
Manuscript: Harvard University.
1. We have been unable to trace such a work.
2. Elise Fredericke Hensler (1836–1929), Swiss-born opera singer, had moved with her family to Boston in the late 1840’s. She became the morganatic second wife of King Ferdinand II of Portugal in 1869 with the title of Countess d’Edla.
3. The 24th of June. San Giovanni Battista (St. John the Baptist) is the patron saint of Florence.
4. EBB’s signature has been cut away, affecting text here and below.
5. A reference to the Crimean War. A “Minié rifle” was a breech-loading rifle named after its inventor, Claude Étienne Minié (1814–79), which was introduced into the British army in 1851. It was replaced by the Enfield rifle in 1855. The Minié, superior to the Russian smooth-bore musket, influenced the outcomes of the allied victories at the battles of the Alma and of Inkerman.
6. Parisian Sights and French Principles, Seen through American Spectacles (New York, 1852).
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