Correspondence

4021.  EBB & RB to Isa Blagden

As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 24, 103–105.

Saturday Mg [1 August 1857] [1]

Dearest Isa,

I don’t put down the sigh with which this line really began– Well, we arrived prosperously enough at about 10. p.m. We had the gratification of travelling with Miss Bessy [2] who was extemporaneously affectionate,—I had to ask her “whom I spoke to?”—unfortunately forgetting all about the young lady,—but she did not care, and did care a great deal about Ba’s comforts in the carriage till we parted at Lucca. Now for this place—our rooms are small,—there is compensation in a pretty garden all a-growing & a-blowing, with flowers and bowers—it’s pretty, I assure you. In the middle of the day, I find the heat much the same as at Florence—but the evenings are decidedly cooler: the place is very green & cheerful,—I find it just as I left it. [3] If you choose to come, there will be no sort of difficulty in finding you accommodation: I went over a particularly picturesquely-perched house—much better than this, to my mind—you might have the whole of it—three padrone’s bedrooms, two servants’ rooms—and abundant room of all kinds—especially for the wretched set-out of tables and chairs, which constitute, I suppose, the strictly necessary: terms, 40 fi [4] the season,—or about 30 for six weeks: you would be alone and with plenty to see & breathe. Down here, there is room next door, over the way, next that other door, every where, in short: Pagnini, [5] opposite would “do you” for some 10 pauls a day, [6] we hear—no less, certainly: then there are others—in short, if you incline to come, the rest may be easily managed. But I won’t teaze you, after the fashion I never particularly liked in other friends, to do what I like, disregarding what you may fail to like. There is no lack of conveniences, horses, donkeys, chaises, Miss H’s, [7] doctors, a churchyard, “Galignani” &c &c.

Ba must say a cheerful word about it all. Better than the best of all the above delights, including the churchyard, would be a quantity of Villa Bricchieri just now; taken hot or cool—but not “without” your dearest face, Isa—and yours, Annette: write a[s] many words to make me fancy myself nearer you. Ba is very well,—I count on her pressing you to come more earnestly than I venture to do. What is Lytton going to do? Has he decided on anything? He knows all about this Bagni di Lucca,—& I don’t mind wishing he would come, wishing it with all my heart.

Oh, my Isa! Ah, my Annette!

Just so would sigh “Oh,” and would moan “Ah,”

Inside his whale, the luckless Jonah!

I need not tell you I have begun to write poetry again, & shall send Miss Power her portion this very day. [8] God bless you– Love to Lytton from his & your

RB

[Continued by EBB]

Robert does his part about the house, my dearest Isa, but I cant let a letter go without a word from me. Dear, do come, if it will not vex you too much. I am “in a straight betwixt two” [9] —that is between you & me—because Robert says you wont like to come, & because I dont want to drag you into a thing you may dislike. I had a sort of faint notion that we might have made room for you with us,—but there has been illusion about it .. (the house)—the rooms are so small that married pairs have to divide, & Peni has a room to himself– The most squeezy rooms, they are– The whole, “stuffy” with trees—for, except side views of tops of mountains, the only look out is into the garden—a really beautiful garden, with close alleys, & tall trees .. (a standard peach-tree like a forest-tree) and magnificent oleanders of every variety of colour. We have a terrace opening on this, to the ground,—& another terrace on the village– Still, hotels elbow us from behind the trees, & there’s an endless sence [sic] of society– See how it is! I dont like the situation much– Never mind—as far as I am concerned I shall make myself content with the garden—but for poor Robert I am uneasy—& I do reproach myself for bringing him here, yes, I do– He took ease the first morning in swearing that it was much hotter than Florence—which is’nt true, by the way,—he has come to recognize that by now. The air last night was of a chrystal coolness,—& we bear the windows open even in the mornings.

In despair, Robert throws himself into poetry, and did the verses for Miss Power yesterday .. to my great consolation. Very good too, they are– ‘On a hand’: [10] So that business will be off our tormented consciences–

We had a journey as if we travelled through Pandemonium [11] with both horses lame. The intensest & most overcoming heat! and the attendant angel Bessie Herbert! who introduced herself to me & talked as might be expected–

There are plenty of vacant houses, Isa, plenty—& Robert will tell you how the only defect of the one he saw, was in the furniture– Prices higher than I had thought. Mrs Stisted says that the hotel charge is a scudo a day—but there’s hotel & hotel– I wish you so to come that I scarcely dare speak of your coming– Certainly you should not be made to suffer. I hear of small ‘Tilburys’ to be let out & driven—& how you & I might go up & down, you driving me. Yes, I would even trust you to drive me, if you would come—& that would be risking life & limb. Can I do more?

On our arrival at half past ten (we set out at three) we found the table spread by Mrs Stisted’s provident goodnature, with pigeon pie & fruit tart, bottled lemonade in ice, tea bread &c &c– Was’nt it good of her?

Robert has enquired already about the horses, tell Annette with my kind love– And “oh,” says Peni, “how I do like this place! Such a nice smell of green, and lizards in the grass, .. and the sound of little hoofs of donkies everywhere”– The last poetical circumstance is most engaging to him, & he has been riding in great triumph with Ferdinando striding after him.

But we miss you dreadfully, all of you– Dearest Isa, I miss you– And tell Lytton that I do want some more poems, & I feel they would go so well to the moonlight we had last night & shall have again tonight– Write—dear.

This is first scribbled & then blotched—as you see.

In such haste, & dogged by Peni’s lessons.

your faithfully loving

Ba

I say & Robert agrees that the prices might be brought down, if we had leave to try–

Publication: B-IB, pp. 122–126.

Manuscript: Armstrong Browning Library and Fitzwilliam Museum.

1. Date provided by the Brownings’ references to their recent arrival at Bagni di Lucca on 30 July 1857, a Thursday.

2. i.e., Elizabeth Herbert (see letter 4013, note 2).

3. In 1853, when the Brownings spent the summer at Casa Tolomei, which was also in Alla Villa. A photograph of Casa Betti is reproduced facing p. 144.

4. 40 francesconi, equivalent to about 9 pounds.

5. Murray’s Handbook for Travellers in Northern Italy (1858): “Alla Villa.—Inns: the Pelicano, kept by Gustavo Pagnini, is well situated” (p. 466). The inn provided meals, lodging, or both. Isa Blagden, Annette Bracken, and Robert Bulwer Lytton would all stay there.

6. Or about four and a half shillings.

7. The Misses Herbert.

8. RB sent verses entitled “Study of a Hand, by Lionardo,” to Marguerite Power for the 1858 edition of The Keepsake; EBB sent “My Heart and I” (see Reconstruction, E203 and D559). Neither poem, however, appeared there (see letter 4024). RB’s poem was later incorporated (though altered slightly) in “James Lee’s Wife” (Dramatis Personæ, 1864); EBB’s was published in Last Poems (1862).

9. Cf. Philippians 1:23.

10. See note 8 above.

11. In Paradise Lost, Pandæmonium is located in Hell, “the high Capitol / Of Satan and his Peers” (I, 756–757).

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