4139. EBB to Sophia Eckley
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 25, 52–54.
Casa Guidi.
Feb. 25– [1858] [1]
Our letters cross, my dearest Sophie, but this kind of crossing does not cross out love– Dear, I am so very glad to have your last letter. You have done now with Nile & the crocodiles,—but now begins the trial: the rest, of course, was easy– I envy you, I envy you for the Nile. Certainly I should have liked it,—& certainly, certainly I should have missed much which I have disliked here in the west. You have had the spirits with you too—only a little touch! the small foot on the gown! How pretty that was!– What a pleasant inversion of Friday’s footstep on the sand– [2] We are not afraid of these footsteps, are we?– I wish any would come to me, but I listen in vain through the silence. If anything stirs I am sure to find out that it’s a mouse.
My husband & my Peni have both had the ‘grippe’ which is universal in Florence,—& so poor, poor Penini was cut off from his last days of the carnival, the “bouquet,” [3] containing all the glory of the whole,—& his pretty domino was lent away to a little friend– [4] Poor child, he bore it bravely till quite the last day—& then the heart gave way,—and he fairly refused to get out of bed that morning (though without alledging [sic] any reason) .. he “never meant to get out of bed anymore,” .. the tears running over his eyes. We had to reason with him a little, and I confess I petted & coaxed him,—& he was promised Heaven knows what,—& so comforted at last by less rational means than philosophy. But talk of trials, .. was’nt it a trial for a child?– Let Doady [5] pity him. Do, Doady.
One advantage Penini has had in [not] going to the East this winter: he has gone on with his music & made great progress– His faculty for music seems to us really considerable, & it would have been a pity if he had “forgotten his notes” (as such young creatures would be sure to do) among Doady’s crocodiles. Pen has quite a passion for music, gives two hours a day to it, & complains of this not being time enough,—& plays surprisingly with those small hands of his, which, stretch them as he will, cant reach an octave– Also, apart from grippe, his health is excellent, & he has been rosy & strong all the winter. Such a comfort the child is to both of us!—& more good, more attentive, as he gets older– Of course, boys get good as they get old, tell Doady– Oh, I congratulate you so on his being after your mind. And how, in being always shut together like folded hands, in a journey of this kind, you must bring the full influence of your soul to bear upon the child, dearest Sophie. That is better than music-lessons.
Mrs Jameson was delighted with your little note. I put it into her hand and she said (& looked) “now I am pleased.” She said too that she would write an answer—but just now she is laid up with grippe, scarcely able to see out of her eyes, so that writing must be quite out of the question– But you will hear, you will hear– She was to have sailed to Naples on saturday, all her plans being changed by this ‘grippe’, & she, stranded at Casa Guidi.
Will you tell Mrs Tuckermann with Robert’s & my love, that we admire her for her great adventure of having dared to look from the top of the pyramids with the Centuries, who look down from thence, said Napoleon. [6] You were content to sit at the bottom with the New Year, (may it be happy to you, dear!) and dream dreams– (may they come true!)
Now let me remember to answer your question (talking of dreams) about next summer, & where we are likely to be then. Nothing should I like better than to spend it in Switzerland in a chalét, & have you close by– And if we knew how to escape certain threatening necessities about Paris, we would do it– Only I cant say. Every now & then Robert swears on the ashes of our hearth, that he wont go north,—on which I sigh & say “Dont let us”– But, after all, there’s the cloud of uncertainty & fear—people writing, people entreating– Oh, to be out of hearing on the Nile!– The end of all is that I can tell you nothing. In fact, I never can tell you anything of our future, which is always in doubt– Dont you observe that of us? If we mean anything (only—there’s the guide!) if we mean anything, we dont do it. Read us by that, if at all–
I have heard nothing of the spirits, except that Wilkinson’s book sells [7] —which we hear from his & our publisher,—which proves the increasing interest in England.
May God bless you my dearest Sophie—& all yours! bless you all–
Robert’s & my love to Mr Eckley,—& Peni’s to Doady. Yes, & a kiss from me to that naughty Do who pretends to have outgrown kisses! What a pretension. Tell him that Peni has’nt, & shant–
Dear Sophie’s loving friend
Ba
Is’nt it something that I “give you to do” .. to love me?–
Address: À Madame / Madame Eckley / Aux soins de Messrs Fenzi & Hall / Cairo.
Publication: None traced.
Manuscript: Berg Collection.
1. Year provided by EBB’s references to the Eckleys’ travelling on the Nile.
2. When Robinson Crusoe discovered a human footprint (Friday’s) on the shore of his island, he recorded: “I stood like one Thunder-struck, or as if I had seen an Apparition” (Daniel Defoe, The Life and Strange Surprizing Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, 1719, p. 181).
3. “Fireworks,” or “fireworks display”; especially the finale thereof.
4. Emilio Del Bene.
5. The Eckleys’ son, David.
6. Cf. Napoleon’s address to his troops before the Battle of the Pyramids in 1798: “Du haut de ces pyramides quarante siècles vous contemplent” (“From the summit of those pyramids, forty centuries look upon you”); Mémoires pour servir a l’histoire de France, sous Napoléon, 1823, 2, 239.
7. Spirit Drawings (1858); see letter 4112, note 4.
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