4530. RB to Isa Blagden
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 27, 49–50.
Foligno,
Nov. 30. ’59.
Dearest Isa,
Here we are, at the end of our third day’s journey, [1] in capital condition—all having gone unexceptionably with us hitherto—indeed, beyond my best hopes. The weather has been just what we desired, rather than expected—we keep the carriage windows open, and Ba never coughs nor appears to suffer. The stages have been easy and yet we get along quite as fast as we wish—having reached this place a day earlier than we did last year. On Monday we rested at Incisa & slept at Poggiobagnoli: on Tuesday, at Camuscia & Passignano: to-day, at Perugia and this Foligno. To-morrow night, we shall reach Terni, I suppose. I enjoy the journey much—so evident is the advantage to Ba, were it merely these long doses of fresh open air which she would have made no effort to swallow in Florence. Pen. is quite well—and the poney’s performances are really admirable—he keeps the pace of the other horses perfectly, and comes in fresh as at starting and without having turned a hair. Of course Ba is tired enough on her arrival at the Inns after a day’s jolting: she takes tea and goes to bed at once—but one expects that, and is happy it is no worse.
Now, dearest Isa, why did you behave so foolishly & Isa-like as to sacrifice yourself to that extent with giving us (or Ba) those expensive books, those poems of Victor Hugo?– [2] I have no heart, nor energy, however, to blame you as you deserve: let Ba do justice on you when she writes from Rome—for my part, I read one volume on Monday and the next on Tuesday and have satisfied my appetite. A few of the poems are very fine; many, indeed all, are thickly spiced with good things; but, except in two or three transcendent instances, he gives you pan-forte [3] for the sacramental wafer—(to do a bit of Hugo myself!) The first volume is by far the better: the latter half of the second being bad, indeed—sometimes outrageously so. The most absurd thing, however, is the magniloquent preface—all the vast plan that was in the poet’s mind, and all his humility about the little of it he has been able to accomplish, and all his modest confidence in the efficaciousness of that little—and the whole, one big bubble of mere breath which a touch breaks—in turning over the leaves of the book itself: for any of his former collections of miscellaneous poetry would just as exactly answer to this particular plan as the present. But he can’t let truth be truth, or a number of remarkable poetical pieces speak for themselves, without assuring you that he meant them to join Man to God, with the like pleasant practicabilities.
Dear Isa– I had no time to get the cigars: but it is little matter– I will find somebody to bring them. Ba has been asleep, I hope, this long while: but I know, as you know, that her truest love & thanks go with mine to you. Take care of yourself, get ready to follow us, write meanwhile, keep an eye on Mr Landor, and shut the other on all but the real affection of
Yours ever
R Browning.
Publication: B-IB, pp. 255–256.
Manuscript: British Library.
1. The Brownings left Florence on 28 November and arrived in Rome on 3 December.
2. Victor Hugo (1802–85), La Légende des Siècles (2 vols. in 1, 1859). The book is inscribed by RB: “Dearest Isa Blagden gave this book to Ba on our last but one (last happy) journey to Rome, Nov. 1859. Casa Guidi, July 24, ’61.” It sold as lot 775 in Browning Collections (see Reconstruction, A1266).
3. A Sienese cake made in December and symbolic of a prosperous New Year.
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