5099. RB to Isa Blagden
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 30, 106–108.
19. Warwick Crescent, Harrow Road,
July 19. ’62.
Dearest Isa,
You would not bid me “write punctually on the proper day” if you knew how great a comfort has been the reliance on hearing from you, all this while: I really counted the weeks & days: if ever you have any special movement to say a word to me over the distance, you ought to do it—because this arrangement [1] only means that at the worst I shall certainly have news of you at such & such periods: for instance, I must give you the address in France, when I know it. I hope to get there early in August—not to escape the heat, however—but for quiet & change of scene. I shall stay two months & then return for another campaign,—improving by the experience of the present—which, on the whole, has been satisfactory. Pen’s habits, application & self-reliance are all better than at the beginning: his health & growth are beyond what I could have hoped. Every morning he rows for an hour on the canal, [2] —a singular advantage in London. In other respects, I like him better & better—there is no humbug of any sort about him,—plain truth-telling, high spirit and absence of demonstrativeness which, on many accounts, I look more favorably on than once would have been the case: well, as he is, he is very dear & makes my life valuable. Do you know, that little red-haired Tuscan boy, Alessandro, who used to be so particular a friend of his, came to London on a visit to his Grandmother: I made him come here as often as he could, & Pen & he used to chatter away in the dear old language just as they did at Siena or Florence. Also old Alessandro, [3] our first of all servants, turned up unexpectedly. Villari came here to luncheon—to my great pleasure. He is now in the country some where. I saw Hatty last night,—dined with her at Ly Marian Alford’s [4] —& thought her much better in looks than some three weeks ago, when she arrived thin, worn & not well—but you saw her in your transit thro’ London, she told me. I have never written to Lytton all this while!—Know it to be wrong & mean to make amends. Sir Edward has bought a beautiful estate at Totteridge, [5] close to London, for £28,000– I told you how sorry Forster was at missing you: his wife has been, & is, seriously ill [6] —her recovery may be expected but will take a weary time. Mrs Story desired me (two days ago) to repeat the great wish she had had to see you. I will send you the photograph (a pretty one) next time—meanwhile I return, as you desire, the likeness of yourself which pleases me least—the new one: I find the first much better, &, besides, have got used to it—there it is, & will be, on the mantelpiece. My cases are come [7] —that is, arrived at the docks—but here on the table is a note come too, saying that they are of such “an immense size” as to stagger the consigner & he writes for instructions as to how he is to proceed! They must be introduceable in detail, I should think. I hear nothing of the Cottrells—should much like to see them before I go. [8] Did you see a foolish but characteristic letter “by Landor” in the “Times” about a journey to Rome, cheating there, & return thence? [9] I wrote in trepidation to Florence for news & found the thing was a hoax,—L. having never left the place. Hatty told me she was going to Miss Cobbes in about a fortnight– I saw F. Haworth only once—she was in a stress of engagements, & our opportunities for meeting did not coincide: I have not met Miss Cushman yet, which I regret, but it is no fault of mine– Gibson I saw at the Club yesterday. [10] Mrs Mackenzie called on me the day before she left town—Annette having left already, she said, or implied, I don’t know which: Mrs M. seemed very well, to all appearance,—said she should return to Rome, but, probably, without Annette. One of your Miss Elliotts [11] (I forget her name) is going to marry Blackett, Made Du Quaire’s brother: & Fuller,—whom I every now & then meet, is going to try the real thing: [12] don’t you remember all the exceptional reasons for regarding the particular tie as something eminently respectable &c &c.—a year, & it’s gone & over. You once told me about a beautiful Miss Sneyd, now Mrs Petre– [13] I met <…> [14] sate opposite her at dinner & saw a great deal of her neck & shoulders—very fine, & the hair finer, but ill bred & silly, & without expression. I saw Brini’s child, the boy, very pretty. [15] I hear, with true sorrow, that poor Mrs Trollope is extremely ill at Florence, causing the greatest disquietude to T.A: he wrote to that effect, indeed more decisively, to Chapman, having left London abruptly on the intelligence of her illness: [16] but you probably know more about it than I: I have never been able to see Anthony T. (I called ineffectually on the Mackays two days ago)—nor indeed a dozen, or more, people whom I greatly want to see—but I am overcome by the calls on my time– To be sure, as I stay here, I keep consoling & excusing myself by saying “there will be time”—but who knows? For that day whereon nothing could have induced me to leave the house [17] —I received eight invitations! But you thought of me, I know. All this tittle-tattle is intended to resemble what will be lost to us for many a year—the old chats and gossips: I can never,—shall never try to go an inch below the surface—but what need is there of that with you? Dearest friend, no one has ever been to me what you have been. I shall find no new friends even of a lower grade nor do I want them—kind acquaintances I continue to make every day: you are my—nearly one, certainly best, woman-friend. God bless you,—we will be “snakes” [18] together yet, if He please– Tell me about yourself, your health—I will send the French address to Stone <House>
<…>
Publication: DI, pp. 109–113.
Manuscript: Armstrong Browning Library.
2. The Paddington Canal or, more precisely, the Paddington branch of the Grand Junction (now Grand Union) Canal, which was across the street from RB’s house.
3. Alessandro Barsotti (see letter 2744, note 23).
4. Marian Margaret, Viscountess Alford (née Compton, 1817–88); see letter 4851, note 16. She is listed in the Brownings’ address book of this period (AB-4) at 11 Prince’s Gate, Hyde Park.
5. Copped Hall, Totteridge, “eight miles from town” (The Life of Edward Bulwer, First Lord Lytton, 1913, II, 354).
6. Eliza Ann Forster (née Crosbie, formerly Colburn, 1815–94) is described by James A. Davies as a woman of “mildly fragile health, a catcher of colds, a sufferer from headaches, a loser of sleep” (John Forster: A Literary Life, Leicester, 1983, p. 109).
8. The Cottrells were in England to seek medical treatment for Sophia (see letter 5105).
10. i.e., the Athenæum Club.
11. Emma Mary Elliot (1830–87), youngest daughter of Gilbert Elliot (1800–91) and his wife, Williamina (née Brydore, 1796–1853). She married on 4 September 1862 at St. James, Piccadilly, Montagu Blackett (1826–66), son of Christopher Blackett (1787–1847) and his wife, Elizabeth (née Burgoyne, 1781–1833).
12. The “real thing” being to marry. On 22 August 1863, Charles Francis Fuller (1830–75), English sculptor, married Helen Mary Anne Bagge (1839–1920) at Boulogne.
13. Emma Katherine Julia Petre (née Sneyd, 1831–1916), daughter of Ralph Henry Sneyd (1784–1840) and his wife, Jane Robina (née Dunbar, 1782–1878). On 10 April 1858, she married diplomat George Glynn Petre (1822–1905), in Paris, where he was attached to the British Embassy.
14. Closing and signature were excised, resulting in loss of text here and below.
15. Unidentified, but doubtless the child of RB’s Florentine banker, Carlo Brini (1816–83).
16. Theodosia Trollope (née Garrow, 1816–65) suffered from pulmonary tuberculosis, then known as consumption.
17. The anniversary of EBB’s death.
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