4054. EBB to Isa Blagden
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 24, 145–147.
[Bagni di Lucca]
Friday [25 September 1857] [1]
My deares<t> Isa I stop the hard thoughts [2] you must be thinking of me by one sad word—our darling Peni is ill with gastric fever .. of a light sort, I do thank God, but still of a decided character. I had not the heart to write before, and even now it seems hard to put it down– At first we supposed it to be measles or scarlatina—something of that sort. He ran by my portantina [3] one day when I went to the Eccleys, & overtired & overheated himself, & played by the river in the dark, waiting for me– It was last saturday– [4] The next day he complained of headache & was feverish. We gave him senna—& on monday [5] morning he was so well apparently that we took him to Gallicano [6] ten miles off, in a carriage, & five miles farther on a donkey, into the mountains where we had a picnic with the Eccleys,—the child in the highest spirits—singing all the way home– He did not sleep well however that night, and on the morning after (tuesday) [7] he <…> [8] that we called in Marchi [9] whom <Dr> Trotman recommended– He has been in bed ever since, except four hours one morning, which deviation we repented afterwards– The fever comes on at night .. just like Lytton’s .. only much more lightly, we do thankfully confess– The medical man says its a case “non grave,” attended with no sort of bad symptom—but the trial it is, you may conceive– May God take pity on us–
As soon as he can be moved we shall take him back to Florence– The child’s sweetness & goodness are most touching– O you dear pet! he said yesterday to me .. “what reliefs you give me!” “How do I give you reliefs,” I asked– “Why you do in your kisses.” Then, another time, <“do not worry> about me– Think it’s a little boy <in the> street—so as to be a very little sorry, but not unhappy”–
On the day at Gallicano, Robert had set out in the middle of the night with Mr Eccley, to climb the great mountain peak & to meet us afterwards in the gorge where we dined– Think of this happening– In passing a narrow ledge of ground, the earth gave way & the horse fell under him, .. (Robert catching at the rock & so saving himself) the horse falling some sixty feet, head over heels, down the precipice– It was a miracle– The greatest wonder was that even the horse was not hurt—only cut a little about the shoulder—(the saddle broken of course)– Robert, you understand, did not fall at all– My imagination reels before the thought of what might have b<een.>
[10]Wilson goes to Florence directly. Will you enquire about the parcel at Goodban’s, and let it be sent to the porter at Casa Guidi for her.
The new maid [11] would be very encouraging if it were not for proverbs about new brooms. Nothing can exceed her attention & kindness & apparent feeling, and Peni likes her .. which really is a comfort–
Thank dear Lytton for his letter, his most kind & welcome letter, which shall be answered when we can write– The poem is extremely clever, but will never be a great favorite of mine. I dont like the machinery of “skeletons”—it’s against my idiosyncrasy– [12] Also .. Mr Forster (whatever we may say, who are fast, Isa!) Mr Forster will never abide its being printed on account .. not of the skeletons, but of the improper flesh and blood in it.
Peni keeps his spirits,—cuts out paper boxes, & asks for stories– The nights are the worst– Oh—so well as he was looking—so rosy .. so well! He is very anxious to get to Florence. “Cant you put me in a basket, & bring me home?” Poor precious darling.
The doctor will let him have only ten des[s]ert spoonfuls of broth, twice a day– This, for all nourishment– In fact, it’s too clear that he cant digest– He does not suffer from thirst—& that’s a good symptom–
I wish we were at Florence– We both wish it much– Remember us in thoughts .. in prayers, Isa.
Lytton seems, from his own account, to be gaining strength, & I do hope it is more & more so with him. Robert’s kindest love to you all three. [13] He bids me say that he is to ride out with the major today– [14] Mrs Jameson remains here till monday at least– Ferdinando has settled her with his Frenchman, where she has the run of the house & is boarded comfortably for a scudo a day. Your people at the hotel insisted on fifteen pauls– [15] No more—no time–
Your loving Ba as ever
Understand that Robert did not fall from the horse– He threw himself off by an effort of precence [sic] of mind, just in time—& trotted ten miles home on the same horse–
Publication: B-IB, pp. 128–131.
Manuscript: Fitzwilliam Museum.
1. This letter is dated by EBB’s references to Pen’s illness, to RB’s horseback adventure on the mountain, and to Wilson’s going “to Florence directly,” all of which subjects are mentioned in letter 4060.
2. Cf. As You Like It, I, 2, 183–184.
3. “Sedan chair.”
4. Sic, for Thursday.
5. Sic, for Saturday.
6. Murray’s Handbook for Travellers in Northern Italy (1858) describes several excursions from Bagni di Lucca, including “a beautiful drive … down the Lima and up the Serchio, over the temporary wooden bridge to the upper and wider valley of the Serchio, towards Turrita, Cava, and Gal[l]icano” (part II, p. 467).
7. Sic, for Sunday.
8. A corner of the manuscript has been torn away, affecting text here and below.
10. Many years later, RB recalled this adventure in conversation with Daniel Sargent Curtis, who recorded it in a diary entry of 25 November 1889: “At Baths of Lucca I rode with Mr. David Eckley of Boston, towards Carrara, with a guide among the mountains. At a certain point the man said we must make a circuit, to avoid a shorter but dangerous path. Eckley said, ‘Nonsense! Go on!’ and I, unwilling to seem timid, went on. The path narrowed to a crumbling verge of a precipice. My horse advanced slowly placing one leg across the other, until I felt he was going over and with hasty instinct threw myself out of the saddle and clung to branches growing out of the rocks. Over and down went the poor horse– I saw the white of his eye as he fell and disappeared below. Eckley was confounded. A tree broke the horse’s fall, and we saw him standing in a torrent below—little hurt, but the saddle quite ruined” (ms at Marciana).
11. Annunziata Lena; see letter 4043, note 4.
12. EBB refers to Robert Lytton’s poem “Misanthropos,” later published in The Wanderer (1859) under his pseudonym Owen Meredith.
13. i.e., Isa Blagden, Robert Lytton, and Annette Bracken.
14. i.e., Major Gillum.
15. Equivalent to about six shillings and eight pence. A scudo was worth ten pauls or about four shillings and five pence.
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