3547. EBB to Sarianna Browning
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 21, 138–141.
[Florence]
[mid-April 1855] [1]
My dearest Sarianna I have been preaching to Robert what I am much afraid is a true doctrine .. that you have been seriously uneasy about our silence. He is overwhelmed with business just now in getting his poems transcribed—he wont let me do it, but submits to use Isa Blagden who is very goodnatured & pleased to be useful to him (as, I think to myself, she may naturally be!) and now for four hours together every morning he is at her house & at dictation– Then he comes home to work more .. & gossip between whiles with me– The fact is we are crushed into a corner with our work– So little time to do it in!– But we are all well—Penini, radiant. I dont know how anybody could be unwell in such divine weather—for Florence has given back to us in sequins in April, what she took away in quattrini [2] in January. Never was such an April– From the beginning of the month we have leapt into summer—fires, out of the question—windows, left open till nine or ten at night– I wait to go out till after six on account of the heat. And we have ice with the butter–! I can scarcely believe that by this time you have not shared somewhat in this largesse of golden weather, even though I heard yesterday of letters from England bewailing the horrible cold.
You frighten us about prices. Would’nt it however be too cruel not to see the dearest Nonno till after summer,—supposing you met us outside Paris? And then, even for the exhibition [3] .. (though I care infinitely little for that ..) it would be barbarous rather, not to catch sight of it at all, for it would be shut up probably by the end of september when we return– You think it will not be equal to our own exhibition? I shall be a good deal surprised though, if it is’nt much better .. much less like a gigantic “station”, all iron & sky light– [4] They exceed us in every sort of artistic arrangement, & could scarcely fail here, I should imagine. It will be remarkable if they do,—at least. I am sorry about the Ch. Elysées trees. [5] But every grand idea of a whole must, in the execution, annihilate certain details desireable in themselves—and I hear that Paris is pronounced by Mr Ruskin .. for instance .. who is an authority in art & architecture .. to be about to be of “fabulous beauty,” generally. Prices always threaten beforehand you know, more than they are able to perform. I cant join with you in praising Mr Byrne’s generosity in not raising your rent. If he had attempted such a thing, it would have been abominable– A tenant for years—& such a tenant! No landlord in his senses would have committed a theft at noonday of the kind—not in any country, I think. I had a letter yesterday from Fanny Haworth who enquires affectionately after you, & talks of going to Paris “in the spring.” She does not tell me much news of any kind. I believe we know more of the spirits than she does, though they are still holding “circles” in London. Here we have Dante’s spirit & Savanorola’s [sic], next door almost, at Mr Kirkup’s who is rapt in these things. Judge Edmonds’s book is very absurd & very objectionable– [6] I dont doubt that he has communicated with spirits,—but I will swear that Swedenborg & Bacon were not of them. [7] Nothing can be more ridiculous .. except what is’nt so sad. There’s the bad side of the medal.
Talking of medals I forgot to tell you last winter that poor Penini dropped his Waterloo medal [8] into the fire where it melted instantly. How the child shrieked & screamed! Robert promised to get him another .. which soothed the anguish .. and he sobbed out, opening his blue wet eyes to the utmost, what was very expressive of the spirit of the times .. “If you’ll det me a medal wiz Napoleon on one side, the Dute of Wellington may do on the other, & I shall lite it much more better”–! Enough to raise the ghost of the iron Duke!– Robert vowed he should have a Napoleon, certainly– And for my part I am rather glad of the disappearance of the other device when we are going back to France. Waterloo is out of fashion just now, & ought to be.
Oh—you wanted a list of Peni’s faults. Let me see. He is naughty sometimes certainly. He communicated to me the other day that he was “afraid he was envious like Satan”– (He had been reading some theology in the Peep of Day.) [9] “Envious like Satan—because, mama, when I hear of any children having any thing pretty & nice, I always feel as if I should like to have it.”! Then .. he is inattentive often at his lessons—you might as well try to keep a butterfly from fluttering, as Penini still & attentive. Then he’s impatient .. he said the other day to Wilson while he was pulling in vain to open a drawer. “I feel inclined to say a naughty word, Lily. May I say it”? “What word,” said she. “I should like to say,” said Peni, with a considerable potentiality of wickedness in his face .. “I should like to say birbonaccio.”! [10] Penini’s naughty words are all of them Italian—& there are two or three, which he brings out one after another when he gives himself to the devil utterly. Also he’s disobedient sometimes, as Wilson & I are continually trying to enforce upon him, so as to wring out some efficacious drops of repentance.
But really he’s a good child. I never saw or dreamt of such a good, sweet child—of a disposition most gentle & angelical. He cant bear that anyone should be displeased with him– “Will you kiss me & love me again, & make me happy.”? He always, as he says of himself, “speats the tloot,” (the truth). His affectionateness is something almost over-tender. You will love him more than now even, when you see him nearer.
I think you will like his “willow tree” poem, & he writes it out for nonno & you, & thanks nonno “so much” for the magnificent tiger .. who is worthy of the juggle [sic]. Mr Kenyon, let me tell you, was so pleased with ‘Lucy Lee’ that he sent the author a guinea! Poetry may turn out a more profitable trade with him than with his ancestry. Robert & I moan in the most unpatriotic way you ever heard, Sarianna, about going to England. You must come with us, if only to kiss the ground for us, & swear there is a sun in sight. Spending a summer in a London lodging (& paying for it) you will admit, however, is not a prospect perfectly green. And then, & then .. it’s bitter work in London for me.! To have to slink into corners & behind doors—like a felon!. & one of my aunts [11] is visiting in Wimpole Street!– I dont like it—& Robert, does’nt, for me. But there’s Arabel above all! If it were not for Arabel … well—it’s no use, talking–
I will tell you one fact about Trippy– Her first drive out, was to a chymist’s in Baker Street to get some coffee analysed & ascertain the amount of poison deposited in it by Arabel’s “paid agent,” the servant of the house.! Does’nt it seem almost incredible?. Arabel goes on however like the angel she is, to pay visits & do kindness—but she cant get to her, she says, much more than twice a week now, for Trippy has insisted on giving up her rooms in Welbeck street & has removed farther off near Regent’s Park somewhere, [12] at the sacrifice of three months rent. She seems to be wonderfully well, & Arabel says I shall probably find her walking about as usual. But I really feel a little angry .. after every possible consideration & extenuation. She told Arabel that she considered her the cause of the whole illness– Poor Trippy!——
Give my love to dear Mrs Shaw—& to the Corkrans. Is it true that the Storys go directly (or are gone) to America, as we heard by chance? [13] Best of love to the dear nonno from Penini & me– Robert always speaks for himself. Dearest Sarianna think in love of your
ever affectionate sister Ba–
I am to go out to tea with Robert tonight out of doors—on a terrace. Think of that!
Publication: None traced.
Manuscript: Fitzwilliam Museum and Lilly Library.
1. Approximate dating based on EBB’s implication that April is well under way.
2. The smallest Tuscan coin denomination, made of copper, five of which were equivalent to a little more than an English halfpenny. A sequin, or zecchino, was a gold coin equivalent to ten shillings (see Francis Coghlan, Handbook for Travellers in Northern Italy, 1856, p. xi).
4. EBB refers to the Crystal Palace, set up in Hyde Park, which housed the Great Exhibition of 1851.
5. The central building that housed the Exposition Universelle of 1855, the Palais de l’Industrie, was erected in the heavily wooded Champs Élysée across the avenue from the Palais Élysée. Like the Crystal Palace, the Palais de l’Industrie was constructed of metal and glass, but, unlike the former, it was partly sheathed in masonry. Two other buildings contained exhibits: the Galerie des Machines and the Palais des Beaux-Arts.
6. Spiritualism (New York, 1855); see letter 3181, note 14.
7. See the third paragraph in letter 3466.
8. i.e., his medal of the Duke of Wellington; see letter 3299.
9. In Lesson 5, entitled “Of the Wicked Angels”: “I cannot tell you how very bad Satan is. … He is envious, and cannot bear to see people happy.”
10. “Worthless rascal.”
11. Aunt Bummy (Arabella Sarah Graham-Clarke), as identified in letter 3548.
13. The Storys were still in Paris and would remain there until travelling to America via London in August 1855.
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