3744. EBB to Henrietta Cook
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 22, 142–146.
3. Rue du Colysée.
Tuesday. M[arch]. 4 [1856] [1]
My dearest dear Henrietta, I should have written to you several days ago—but as you told me that Arabel let you have what I sent to her, you will not have waited to hear from me. I think of you today as always, most tenderly– [2] May God bless you, dear, dear. What a precious life you have for five .. (I count the invisible fourth as in the world now!) besides the old affections, as strong as ever, Arabel’s & mine .. & others. Dear, I do sympathize with you deeply in this separation from Surtees which is a real trial under the circumstances—yes, and would be a trial under any circumstances,—considering the unity of your heart & life. How I should bear it I dont know– But duty & necessity together bear one up—and the sense of love itself exalts one & confirms one against the grief of love. May God bless you, I say again– It’s the only thing to say. After all it is’nt as bad as the Crimea .. & you were making up your mind once to the Crimea. It is’nt as bad even as the Holy land—and I told Robert only yesterday that, as we had’nt money to go together (its so expensive) I would allow of his going alone for a few months, I and Penini staying quietly at Florence. Only I must add that he refused point blank, & swore that nothing in the shape of pleasure would ever enduce [sic] him to separate himself from me for a week. So I had just the glory of my generosity—& say nothing of it if you please– It was plainly right of you to keep to Wilton where you have small expenses & much material comfort, till after your confinement. When I go to London .. in June .. I do hope & trust Aldershott will be useful to me in drawing you there for a longer time than you would otherwise vouchsafe. You must let Wilton as you did before, & give us a happy summer altogether. Why, for instance, wont the Cooks exchange with you for the summer? The country would do them a great deal of good, & be very pleasant besides—and you might have the advantage of their London house. Would’nt it answer very well? Do think of it, you & Surtees & Mrs Cook.– But just now you are only thinking of Surtees & the new baby– I dont believe that you care a thought (much) for any of us over & above. Even Altham probably is in abeyance just now. I do wish I were by you to envy you aloud, and to give you advice about little caps & great preparations. Yes—never yield to the barbarism of bare heads for babies. If Eve had ever been a baby she would have had a skin-cap on her head .. or a vineleaf at least. Because it is’nt good for a baby’s head to be overheated, is that a reason why it should’nt wear a light, semi-transparent sort of cap, with just a foundation for the official rosette? By the way, if I were you, I would persist in wishing for a girl in spite of Surtees. One boy is enough for honour & glory—although I do like so much all you say of Altham, and although my Penini is what he is. But boys in the long run are more troublesome– On your honour, Henrietta, does Altham never get into naughty tempers .. never into a passion .. never into an obstinate fit .. never the least bit of obstinacy. Answer me truly. Penini never does—but then his nature is made of silk—he’s too gentle, I’m afraid sometimes. Be certain that Altham is peculiarly forward & that he must have great intelligence. I should suppose you work him more however than Penini ever was worked– Penini works an hour & a half, as I have told you often, .. but then he loses half that time with talking and kissing. He does all his lessons except the writing, sitting on my knee,—and my hair is out of curl & my cheeks hot with kisses before I have done– Such scolds I have to give– “Now, Peni, I wont be kissed any more.” “Oh, you little pet, be dood &” .. I should like to see any uncle belonging to Penini instructing him out of the innocence of his speech. No indeed. I wont allow it– For the rest I am not sure that instruction would be so influential as Mr Cook’s was with Altham,—for even with the th & z which Penini can pronounce perfectly, he generally pronounces certain words independently of knowledge .. says ‘evellysing’ for everything. He sounds the rs magnificently in the French verbs however. Peni is backward in the pronunciation of English speech, & always was—& I have known children of half of his intelligence speak plainer at three years old than he does now. He uses hard words & a great variety of expression—but the way he speaks is quite infantine, .. which is lovely in my ears .. especially as he has a very melodious voice & a sweet manner. Oh, I dare say, if I had a younger child & another coming, I should think differently about Peni’s ‘speaking plain’, as it’s called, than I do in my present destitute condition. I grant that to you, Henrietta.
And you would grant to me that Penini reads French wonderfully for his two months learning, if you could hear him read & translate. He astonished me this morning really, and he is charmed himself at his own progress. While he was sitting on Robert’s knee yesterday, he said suddenly .. “Oh how happy I do feel!” (sighing ecstatically). “I tant think what makes me so glad. Well—I think its two sings. Its March—and I tan read French– And reading French is just lite being a Frenchman—is’nt it, dear Mama?” Peni has great admiration for the French—but for the most part he persists in professing to be an Italian, he tells everybody he’s Italian. The airs the child gives himself in talking about all sorts of subjects, are very amusing to us– For instance, while we were at dinner yesterday, Ferdinando who is very anxious about the Peace Conferences, [3] was telling us that the report in the streets was, that things were going ill between the great Powers. Penini put down his fork & observed with an ineffable gravity & dignity, that it was his opinion too. “Ed io anche lo credo, Ferdinando. Non si fará la pace.” [4] Robert & I could’nt help a burst of laughter, the child spoke so earnestly, with that darling baby-face of his!– The [‘]‘ed io anche” was irresistible. But he is’nt the least in the world what is called “an old-fashioned child,” [5] for all that. On the contrary, infantine for his age. Sarianna is to give him a squirrel on his birthday– He threw us into fits of laughing by begging her to bring “a mother squirrel” .. “betause the fathers dont mate little ones.” Sarianna & Mr Browning are to dine with us on the birthday, the 9th, & Robert & I are to look to our good behaviour in presents, for much is expected from us. I assure you we are half ruined on Christmas day & Peni’s birthday. He is very provident, in the meantime, about the cutting of his thumbnails, lest any of the gifts should be accidentally cut off. [6]
No—it is’nt the prince [7] who goes with Robert & Mr Crawford [8] to investigate at Dupotet’s– He does’nt go, it seems—but the rest of the party go tomorrow, wednesday—& Dupotet has promised to give them a private sêance after the public one. Mr Phipps (Lord Normandy’s brother) [9] called upon us yesterday .. (asked for an introduction & came ..) on his way to London from Florence whence he has just arrived. I think that what he chiefly wanted to know us for was to hear our opinions upon the ‘spirits’ & Hume. He told us the mystery about Hume .. the mystery of iniquity which everybody raved about & nobody distinctly specified—& there turns out to be, just as I supposed, an enormous amount of exaggeration. Members of a cotterie in Florence intended to present him with a great coat– He ordered a very expensive great coat—(which was an indelicate act on his part) and moreover induced the tailor to leave the money with him .. & then left the bill unpaid (which was a dishonest act)—so that his generous friends had to pay it double .. which was every way irritating. [10] Also, he said something deleterious about Mr Trollope—& something very coarse of a lady [11] .. & something so bad of somebody else, that he had to sign a paper of recantation under pain of horsewhipping. Altogether he was blameable, & gave sign of a vulgar Yankee nature, weak in wrong ways. But there was nothing at all of the criminal character which we all supposed here—and in fact there never has been, says Mr Phipps. Also, it appears that Lord Normandy offered to pay his expenses to England, & that he refused at once—‘not choosing to accept money like a pauper.’ That Lord Normandy did offer such a thing, proves that his opinion of Hume was not entirely bad. He has now left Florence for Naples, accompanying a Polish family as tutor [12] .. which sounds extraordinary—but he speaks English, which may be considered an accomplishment qualifying for tutorship. I cant think of another—except a very little music. Before he agreed to go, he told them, that, “probably their object was the advantage of studying the nature of his gifts,—& that therefore it was right for him to tell them that the spirits had announced to him the suspension for a year of all communications.” After hearing which they still persisted in forming the engagement. Mr Phipps is plainly a believer in the manifestations.
Dearest Henrietta, I tear up my paper, Robert having frightened me out of my wits by declaring to me the other day that I have probably made both you & Arabel pay double for all my letters, through writing too much. I wish you would both tell me if this is really the case– You know I would do the same by you. Meanwhile I am so nervous I cant send you more than this pittance. Certainly you send me longer letters with impunity. I heard through Mrs Martin a few days since that she had heard from the Hedleys who did’nt like Bath at all, & that she was glad of it because “Bath was a deteriorating place.” I dont believe much in deteriorating places for people worth a straw!—but I should have been surprised if they had liked Bath after being used to better. The Martins are well & have been enjoying summer rather than winter at Pau– I do wish you could persuade Arabel to go to Frocester [13] both for you & her– Change of air & scene are, I am certain, necessary for her & though Frocester is’nt a congenial place exactly perhaps—& not very lively .. I do wish she would go there or anywhere, rather than stay in London. Think of Robert going every week to read poetry .. Keats to begin with .. to that dear Lady Elgin. It’s good of him, I think. And she is so charmed & glad! Better in health—quite rallying I hope.
May God bless you, dearest. My love to Surtees when you write—& to the other three.
Your ever attached
Ba.
Peni is quite well. Mind you dont exert yourself with the children, but rest properly on the sofa–
Address: Angleterre. / Mrs Surtees Cook / Wilton / Taunton / Somersetshire.
Publication: Huxley, pp. 240–242 (in part).
Manuscript: British Library.
1. Year provided by postmark.
2. On Henrietta’s 47th birthday.
3. Negotiations had begun on 25 February at Paris and would culminate in the signing of a peace treaty on 30 March 1856, officially ending the Crimean War. The peace conference included representatives from the countries that had fought in the conflict: England, France, Turkey (Ottoman Empire), Austria, Piedmont, and Russia. Piedmont was represented by its prime minister, Camillo di Cavour (1810–61).
4. “And I also believe it, Ferdinando. Peace won’t be made.”
5. In one of its definitions of “old-fashioned,” the OED cites Dickens’s use of the term in chapter 14 of Dombey and Son (1848) and gives the following: “Having the ways of a grown-up person; hence, precocious, intelligent, knowing.”
6. A reference to “a white speck on the fingernails, supposed to portend a gift” (OED).
8. Doubtless, EBB meant Cartwright; see the third paragraph in letter 3738.
9. Sic for Lord Normanby’s brother. Patrick Waddington identifies him as Edmund Phipps (1808–57), barrister (see Waddington, p. 430). He was the third son and child of Henry Phipps, 1st Earl of Mulgrave, and his wife, Sophia (née Maling).
10. The provider of funds for the coat was John Snaith Rymer, who resided in Ealing (see Waddington, p. 325).
11. Perhaps James Jarves’s mother, Anna Smith Jarves (née Stetson); see letter 3741, note 2
12. In February 1856, Home left Florence in the company of Alexander Branicki (1821–77), a wealthy Polish count, and his family, among whom were his wife, Anna (née Hołyńska, 1824–1907) and a son Władyslaw (1848–1914). They went first to Naples and then to Rome, where Home converted to Roman Catholicism on Easter Monday.
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