3688. EBB to Henrietta Cook
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 22, 21–26.
102. Rue de Grenelle. Fg St Germain–
Dec 6. [1855] [1]
My ever dearest Henrietta I meant to have answered your letter long & long ago—but the time passes—and I had besides to write to Arabel to get rid of a very uneasy feeling about her which still lingers though she calls herself well now. I am sure she neglects herself—she wont use remedies, or take precautions, & perhaps at this very moment she is unwell– I can not feel satisfied– Then our position here is so wretched, that I put off everything till we get clear of it, which we shall do next saturday week, if it pleases God– Dearest, dear Henrietta, you are to believe that we did you absolute justice, & considered you right & kind to be frank & tell us your exact mind about Lazarus– [2] And now you must do us justice, & understand that no want of reverence, much less blasphemy, was intended by that poem, the object of which indeed is in the highest degree reverential & Christian. It is one of my great favorites—(and we have this morning a letter from Mr Ruskin [3] author of the Stones of Venice, a most Christian man, calling it his favorite—) and among all the criticisms we have heard private & public, such an idea as yours seems to have occurred to no one. The Arabian physician considers the case of Lazarus as ‘a case’ .. represents it as such a man would, who had never heard of Christ before, or conceived of the miracle. It is a view from without of the raising from the Dead &c—& shows how this must have impressed the thinkers of the day, who came upon it with wondering, unbelieving eyes, for the first time. The way in which Lazarus is described as living his life after his acquaintance with the life beyond death strikes me as entirely sublime, I confess. The books are attracting a great deal of notice in both modes of abuse & laudation. People complain of obscurity, but admit the power & originality to a degree which compensates—setting him above all writers of the day in those respects.
Mr & Mrs Martin have passed through Paris & came to see me twice. She is not well—she told me she was very unwell in her own opinion—but Mr Martin says that the medical men think the inconvenience greater than the danger– It’s an affection of the mucous membrane, chest & stomach—and if she breathes freely, she has pain lower down—if she is free from the pain, she struggles for breath– Change of climate is necessary, & will probably be a sufficient remedy– The second time I saw her, she looked better, I thought. They were both very kind & affectionate, & I was very glad to see them. They stayed only a few days in Paris & are now, I hope, in Pau. Tell me of uncle Hedley .. how he bears the climate—how he looks, & whether he is able to go out–
Mrs Jameson is still here, & my hope is that when she has finished the necessary business which calls her to England, she may return for the winter. I am fond of her more & more– She has taken up the woman-occupation question, & the possibility of using the Sister of charity institution with protestant modifications on English ground. Also she has been enquiring a good deal into the state of French charities .. which are wonderfully organized & most fertile– [4] Here in Paris the cause of the poor is being carried out on all sides. It’s a wonderful place—and of Louis Napoleon I think with increasing respect, the more I get at facts.
Robert went out to Mrs Sartoris’s the other evening,—the very first evening he has spent out in Paris, in spite of re-iterated invitations. Judge from this how we have lived!– We do nothing but smoulder over the fire & read George Sand’s memoirs [5] .. which disappoint everybody (except me) because they are not wicked, as was expected!– I am very industrious however with my Penini—that is, I hear his lessons, from an hour to an hour & a half, every morning—& because we cant really let him go to Ferdinando in the kitchen in the roof, where the wind stabs like a knife through the tiles, he comforts himself—with drawing & reading & our company– He has made good friends too with Harriet who is very gentle & kind to him—and I hear every now & then, a “Thank you, dear Harriet” which sounds like a closer bond. Wilson in the meanwhile does not come– She talks of bringing her baby to a French wet nurse about or after Christmas—but I think it very soon for so young a baby to travel. What we are to do, it’s tremendous to consider!– Of course I deeply regret having brought her from Florence, both for her sake & mine. If I had known the circumstances, I never would have done it. As it is, I suppose we must take her back—and then, I shall have to do my best with a Florentine maid, I suppose– She will not be able to remain—how can she? The discomfort is terrible to one’s arrangements & thoughts—so I shall try not to think of it just now. Arabel advises that Ferdinando shd take an eating house in London—which would never do. Money would be necessary—& he hates London intensely– Penini is as fond of him as ever & quotes his opinions on every occasion– Think of Ferdinando putting the child to bed at night as regularly as can be. He has finished two volumes of the ‘Early Lessons’ in Italian, [6] & begins the third– A better, sweeter, more manageable child there never was in the world .. & he grows fat too, for which I feel inclined to praise & kiss him, as for a moral quality. Paris always agrees with him. I have begun to make him write to dictation, in order to improve his spelling—and everyday I dictate a letter, which he writes in a running hand without lines– I want to accustom him to write readily & independently. He makes great efforts towards writing straightly & at regular intervals, & really improves. The worst is that through having left off his music these many months, he has entirely forgotten it, which vexes me much, and I have much desired, as we have no instrument, to send him for half an hour a day to be taught by somebody in this street– She asked however two francs a lesson (for half an hour) and Robert thought we could not afford it at present– I hear of another teacher not quite as aristocratical, .. less frequented by small duchesses & marchionesses .. whose charge is one franc—only we should have to send the child farther. I shall wait till we are settled, therefore, & able to decide about distances, before I talk of it any more. The advantage would be twofold—he would catch up a little French while he learnt music. He has not the slightest objection to going—rather the contrary—and half an hour, at worst, would soon be over. Of course I would send Harriet with him, to wait & return with him. Peni’s shyness is only traditional now. Think of his going to a child’s party among strangers (friends of friends of ours) & quite alone, & being enchanted to do it– He walked into the drawingroom “into such a crowd”!! as he described it, by himself, & came home at ten oclock in the highest spirits—and now he is looking out with desperate anxiety for “some more ivitations”.
Tell me of Altham—& how he gets on—and dont be afraid of being preached at any more, poor dearest Henrietta—you shant be preached at, even though you should teach him Hebrew. Of course you know better than I what the child can bear—and he seems to be well now– Is he reading Frank? [7] and how far is he in it? and how many pages does he generally read? Do you mean that you have really put him into mourning?—and Mary? such little things for black frocks! I would not have done it under the circumstances certainly,—but then I think I have a peculiar distaste to the putting on of black—more perhaps than is reasonable. I am still wearing it however—I wait for a sign from Arabel to leave it off. [8] A letter from her just while I write, mentions poor Susan– Poor, poor Susan. Will you give her my love? I feel for her very much. [9]
Your account of yourself, dearest Henrietta, is as satisfactory as it can be, and I dare say you will not feel worse but the contrary, as the days go on. Dear, the time is April—is it not? Just in time for me—and I shall have sight, if it shall please God, of the new baby as well as of Henrietta. Meanwhile how dear & darling must the little hands be round you, nursing & fondling you, .. little Altham & little Mary & their sweet “dear mamas” .. making you thrill with a foretaste of more such tender joy!– Oh no, no! I dont pity you a bit—I never could find it in my heart to pity you,—though you be ever so sick!
I have had a letter from Mrs Kinney from Florence—the wife of the American minister at Turin, and a cleverish woman– She used to be just as violent against the spirits as Robert—she raged about them, in fact, till people laughed & wondered why she had such an antipathy to the spiritual world. She exhorted Robert to “find out the trick” & “expose” it, & was furious at the notion of anybody believing. Robert, on his experience in London, wrote to her, which confirmed her of course, & drew out a most resolute letter of “firstly secondly thirdly & fourthly,” expounding & demonstrating why nobody of sane mind could tolerate such gross absurdities. Well—Mr Home is at Florence as you know; & I have just had a long letter from her .. to confess that she had been wrong, & that after having witnessed & examined for herself again & again & again she & her husband had come to the conclusion that all trickery as a solution was utterly impossible– Certainly if Mrs Kinney is convinced, we may despair of no one– She is veracious and just, and Robert himself says that he esteems her more for her candour in writing this last letter. The phenomena in Florence appear to be of an astonishing character– A polish princess was communicated with in her own language– [10] The most private circumstances were referred to in messages from departed friends [11] to the Kinneys & others—I cant tell you all. The ‘raps’ which spelled out some sentences to Mrs Kinney, were made on Mr Kinney’s knee—he sitting the farthest off from the medium of all in the room. Mr Kinney adroitly & rapidly while he felt the raps, dropped his hand on his knee, &, there, came into sudden contact with Another Hand—the spiritual!– The persons present, said Mrs Kinney, had all their hands in sight—& the medium sate the farthest off. She watched everything– Young Mrs Trollope’s gown was blown out. This séance was at the Trollopes’ house. The spirits said they could influence Mrs Kinney’s health beneficially—& they desired her to provide herself with a bottle of distilled water—which young Powers [12] ran for to the chymist’s [13] while the séance went on at Mr Powers’s house. When the water came, Mrs Kinney tasted it—of course it was pure water—left on the table. In a little time, to the eyes of all, there plainly arose a vapour from the water. Then she tasted it again, & there was a peculiar aromatic flavour– The spirits called it ‘odic water,’ [14] and desired her to keep it in a dark place & take a teaspoon of it everyday– Which she does, she says– “Think of me the sceptic”.! But poor Home is very ill—spitting blood– I am promised a letter from Sophia Cottrell on the spiritual subject. I would rather hear, though, from Mr Powers, in whose acumen I have confidence.
I see plainly Arabel is not well yet– Henrietta, cant you persuade her to go to that homœopathic man who helped her before? I feel so anxious about her. How painful to be able to do nothing for her or with her, with all one’s love! She wont be prayed by me– I know she should not let that swelling go on. Taken in time it is manageable. Entreat her for me. She may be better as she says but still.
Dearest Henrietta, I must prepay my letters to you, or you will pay twice over, and you must to me, for a like reason. Four penny stamps are what you should use. Neither more nor less than four, mind.
God bless you all. Dear love to Surtees & the darlings. Robert’s best goes with mine to all of you–
Your ever attached Ba–
Address: Angleterre / Mrs Surtees Cook / Wilton / Taunton / Somersetshire.
Publication: Huxley, pp. 235–238 (in part).
Manuscript: British Library.
1. Year provided by postmark.
2. i.e., “An Epistle Containing the Strange Medical Experience of Karshish, the Arab Physician” (1855).
4. On 14 February 1855 Mrs. Jameson delivered a lecture entitled “On Sisters of Charity Abroad and at Home” at the residence of Elizabeth Jesser Reid; the lecture was published a few months later as Sisters of Charity, Catholic and Protestant, Abroad and at Home (1855). The following year she gave a second lecture, examining the working conditions for women based upon her travels in France, Germany, and Northern Italy, subsequently published as The Communion of Labour: A Second Lecture on the Social Employments of Women (1856); see Clara Thomas, Love and Work Enough: The Life of Anna Jameson (Toronto, 1967, pp. 206–207) and Judith Johnston, Anna Jameson: Victorian, Feminist, Woman of Letters (Aldershot, England, 1997, pp. 219–220).
5. Histoire de ma vie (20 vols., 1854–55).
6. Prime Lezioni (4 vols., Milan, 1833); see letter 3525, note 2.
7. A story in Early Lessons, later expanded with sequels and published as a single title.
8. The mourning attire marked the death of their uncle, Richard Pierce Butler, who had died on 10 September 1855.
9. Because of the death of her husband, Thomas Bruce Stone, on 7 October 1855.
11. One of these being William Burnet Kinney’s mother, Hannah Kinney; see the sixth paragraph in letter 3683.
12. The Powerses’ eldest surviving son, Nicholas Longworth Powers (1835–1904).
13. Henry Roberts, whose pharmacy was located at 4190 Via Tornabuoni (see Murray’s Handbook for Travellers in Northern Italy, 1856, part II, p. 518).
14. Water affected by a unique natural force known as the “od,” as postulated by Karl Ludwig von Reichenbach (1788–1869). His theories regarding such a force were eventually refuted.
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