4818. RB to Sophia Landor
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 28, 293–297.
Rome, Via Felice 126.
Jan. 28. ’61.
My dear Miss Landor,
First, forgive & understand the reason of the long delay in replying to your letter of the 15th ult– You must know how its kindness affected me: but I wanted to procure for you, if possible, one of the little wretched pamphlets [1] which have been giving you so much annoyance, & here it is at last: we have moreover only a monthly courier now (by whose intervention I send this) & the post is hardly safe for a bulky letter. Yet the delay has been the more vexatious inasmuch as I think I can set some of your fears at rest. The pamphlet was never printed in Florence; but in London soon after your Uncles return to his Family at Fiesole: [2] I found in the note of expenses incurred by him during his stay,—furnished me, at his desire, by Mrs Landor,—the particular cost of printing the thing. I suppose they could not prevent it—but it was done then. He used to give copies to any acquaintance or stranger,—to a friend of my own, for instance, after five minutes’ talk with him. His constant desire was to get a reprint circulated in America, and he applied for that purpose to two persons, each of whom I was able to convince easily enough of the true disservice, instead of favor, they would inflict on Mr Landor by accepting his commission: last year however, Mr Fields foolishly promised to “gratify him”—assuring me afterwards that he would take care nothing further was done in the matter—so I understood him—but he sent six copies in very deed, with a note to myself bidding me have no apprehension for this was simply done to quiet your Uncle—perhaps, to prevent his attacking anybody else with his solicitations. I fancy one of these must be the copy sent to your “mischievous person”– I possess a second—and here is a third rescued from the hands of a friend. I have sent the advertisement to Fields, as the best example of what harm his complaisance may do, and trust there will be no repetition of the great mistake. I do not believe your Uncle is writing, or has written anything on the subject of any other grievances, at least with a view to publication,—nothing of the kind you allude to, concerning Mr Forster or yourself: it is possible he may have communicated his impressions & hallucinations by letter to English or American correspondents, but not in the formal way of a statement: the indiscretions I alluded to were rather literary ones—the giving m.s.s & corrected copies of his works to the first comer as a child distributes his toys—and the reckless & lamentable desire for seeing himself in print which makes him write & send off to no matter what trumpery journal the hastiest sheetsful of mistaken & virulent political controversy—or,—what I hardly like better,—some merely literary dialogue, harmless enough, but also sadly inferior to (and so, injurious to the effect of) the productions of his better day. There is no power in me, nor anybody, to stop this—for he writes and posts and forgets altogether, and when the result is returned to him weeks after, nobody is more surprised than himself. He wrote to me two days ago that he had done nothing whatever lately “except composing a Dialogue about Joan of Arc [3] which he has sent to Mrs Linton” (late Miss Lynn) “to do as she pleases with it—probably it may appear in some periodical within a fortnight”– “Probably!”– And he never showed me a line without adding that it was the last he should ever write! The Pamphlet he printed lately, to my extreme annoyance, was only an Italian translation of his own Dialogue between Savonarola and his Goaler [4] —such Italian (thro’ his long desuetude of such literature) as was never yet written—and this was managed for him entirely by his friend Walker—all but the paying for it, which you will observe by the item in the Account which I enclose. It is not altogether so satisfactory to me, the expenditure having exceeded our proper allowance for the half year: this is attributable to Mr Landor’s purchases of more pictures and frames—the last, he assures me energetically,—and still more to the prolonged visit of Mr Walker, who came in complete ignorance of his arrangements and found real difficulty in being allowed to leave at last. Of one thing you may be sure,—your uncle is not disposed to deny himself any addition to his comforts: he fares to his heart’s content, spends no little of his time in concerting how that shall be, and makes me laugh when I remember his protested contentment with “a single dish.” A good deal of expense was incurred too by his accompanying us to Siena,—but in the summer he is able to go out oftener and I really could not venture to leave him behind,—he needed the change of air & place, beside, and I think the moral effect has been good also. But I will take care that we proceed more moderately next half year. For the rest, his health is excellent, he gets on better with Made Romagnuoli (who, in turn, reports very favorably of him to me) and, as luck will have it, the maid of the house is in high favor not undeservedly—so much so, that on Christmas Day her Parents and Sisters had the honor of dining with Mr Landor,—merrily & well! He writes to me in his usual good spirits about Admiral Erskine & the Channel Fleet, gives me a Latin epitaph and signs himself the “old grey beard L.” [5] And all this alloy goes with some of the rarest & purest intellectual gold that ever was trusted to man in the shape of a “talent”! Accompanied by not a few jewels as precious, fine & high instincts, zeal for the right, daring generosities: the pity of it all!
Thank you heartily for your sympathy with my wife: the loss of her sister was hard to bear, but she is recovering in a measure,—indeed, beyond what I ventured to expect: the physical weakness is painful indeed, and helps the mental depression too much, but as the weather grows milder I shall hope for improvement in that respect also. We have had fine weather lately, never any of your strange cold, of which the newspapers give us daily notice, only wet (and warm) weeks at the beginning—and a touch of tramontana allayed by plentiful sunshine at this the end (as we judge) of a Roman winter. I had a kind & pleasant letter from Mr Forster a fortnight ago [6] —he has recovered from his attack of illness & is at present quite well. Pray accept the kind regard of my wife– I shall beg you offer my own to your Uncles. Of course you will tell me freely always anything that occurs to you as within my power to amend in the various points of our housekeeping: on my side, I will do all I can to check any fresh indiscretion: one does it by asking “Is it worth while, Sir, for a man like you to contest a matter with people such as you describe?”—but I cannot always be there—unfortunately. Failing or succeeding, however, I am ever,
Yours most faithfully
Robert Browning.
I will preface the Account by mentioning that the currency in Tuscany being changed last Summer, and the Italian Lira (or French Franc) having taken the place of the old Paul, I give the expenditure accordingly. Observe, if you please, that 56 centimes make a paul: of course, 100 centimes make a lira or franc, as in France. I shall reduce the amount into the old currency, in order to enable you to compare it with the previous accounts: and, beside, the bankers continue the old currency, whatever may be the reason[.]
I could not do otherwise than pay Made Romagnuoli for the Rooms which were unoccupied during the visit to Siena—letting them to anybody else would have been out of the question, and up to the last moment Mr. Landor was bent on leaving Mad R. and going to Siena en garçon—an impossible arrangement. Her own health was improved by the change—another consideration, for I was beginning to fear she would be unable to continue her services.
I may also mention that the various entries for postages, and the like, by no means account for all expenses of that nature,—which are regularly included in the Weekly Bill,—but exceptional disbursements of my own,—as when, for instance, I have taken letters to the post &c Mr Landor demands, & promptly, whatever he wants—and is only obstinate in refusing to want certain articles, a new hat for example, which no entreaties of mine can induce him to substitute for an old one. After all, let us be content with what we accomplish, tho’ it be not altogether perfect,—for he is truly difficult to manage: judge by an incident which occurs to me. We left Siena & travelled to Florence amid his repeated assurances that he had never been so happy in his life, “all thro’ our attentions” &c[.] On arriving at night, I left him in the carriage for a few minutes in order to help the servant to carry my wife upstairs—she being utterly exhausted and very ill. On returning as fast as I could, merely from the landing on the first floor, I found no Mr Landor! He had, either in impatience or from pique at being left for three or four minutes, jumped out & proceeded by himself to his own house in the dark—really by a dangerous bye-lane: I overtook him at his own door, after a smart run. Yet he knew we had prepared refreshment for him, and never would suffer him to leave our house unaccompanied. He said, we must have been wanted for Mrs B, &c &c.
Publication: None traced.
Manuscript: Yale University.
1. Mr. Landor’s Remarks on his Trial for Libel; see letter 4796, note 5.
2. RB refers to Mr. Landor’s Remarks on a Suit Preferred Against Him … (see letter 4545, note 1).
4. Savonarola e il Priore di San Marco (see letter 4759, note 2).
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