3578. EBB to Henrietta Cook
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 21, 203–204.
[London]
Friday. July 13– [1855] [1]
My beloved Henrietta,
We arrived only yesterday at three in the morning! Imagine in what a condition! Tired as I was however, I read your letter before I undressed– We could’nt break bread, we were so tired—we had taken something at Folkestone, (after a hideous rolling, heaving passage of two hours—even I sick!) & had just force to tumble into bed & remember the people who loved us. Thank you, dearest Henrietta, for burning a little love (like a pastille that takes away bad smells) to make me happier in getting to England. In spite of my dearest Arabel, & you, there’s always a weight on my heart when I arrive. The land-sickness is worse than the sea’s. At this moment, there’s Penini gone to Wimpole Street early this morning, &, because he is not back at eleven, I am uneasy lest he should have met somebody. [2] How horrible it is– As for me, I shall go sometimes, when there’s quite no danger– I must see Minny, you know! and if Arabel wants me she leads me with a thread. For the rest, I think I shall try nothing more– I think so– It is absolutely useless—& it is irritating on one side & painful on the other. [3]
Ah– dearest Henrietta, my beloved Henrietta, it’s dreadful, this which you tell me, that you cant perhaps come to London—& the more so, that we perhaps cant go to you .. & for much the same reason. You see, dearest, we have travelled from Italy—we have a house in Florence which is being paid for—& the expenses of lodgings in London, or an apartment in Paris for the next year & a half .. you may calculate– Poverty grinds us down from half our aspirations. As to leaving England without seeing your face, it will be grievous—& perhaps, if it is so on your part as you say, it will be absolutely necessary. Still I dont despair .. because I know you will do what you can—& something may turn up in our favour .. who knows? I am perfectly aware of dear Surtees’s affectionate inclinations & however you both decide, I shall be certain that you both wished to come– In the meanwhile you will let me hope—wont you?
Arabel looks to my eyes wonderfully well—quite brilliant—(Wilson says she never saw her looking so well in her life.) in a Parisian bonnet .. and as if she had never been to the “Refuge” in her life– She considers my astonishment at her degree of elegancy, as very little complimentary—but really, (the word must be spoken) she is altogether radiant & pretty. And so Robert thinks! It has made my heart spring up like a flower to see her face. Henry is thinner, I think—George looks very well—& these are all I have seen yet from Wimpole Street– Penini has taken a great passion of love for Arabel—which pleases me– Sarianna Browning is with us–
I am delighted to have such good accounts of dear little Altham, & of you all. I wish you could be sent (militarily) into the neighbourhood of London—and perhaps it may be. I wish too with all my heart (but that’s vain) that you had’nt come here last winter. I was in a tremendous state of malignity & misgiving at the time, I do remember–
Tomorrow we breakfast with Mr Kenyon to meet half America & a quarter of London. [4] Mrs Sartoris came to see us yesterday– As to Hume—we shall see him, & I will tell you. He’s the most interesting person to me in England, out of Wilton, Taunton, & 50 Wimpole Street.
Arabel Bevan came yesterday for half an hour, but the children had already left London. I thought her looking very well, & much more in health than at the time of her marriage.
Give my love to the dear Hedleys if you see them—I missed them by a fatality .. & Bummy too .. which I cared a wee, wee, little bit less for doing.
Our dear love with you both & your darlings. May God keep you. I feel so much nearer to you after all,—& the feeling is so delightful.
Your ever, ever affectionate Ba–
Address: Mrs Surtees Cook / Wilton / Taunton.
Publication: Huxley, pp. 217–218 (in part).
Manuscript: British Library.
1. Year provided by postmark.
2. Edward Moulton-Barrett.
3. EBB refers to the futility of further attempts at reconciliation with her father.
4. The breakfast was attended by Henry Crabb Robinson, who described it in his diary; see SD1832.
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