5318. RB to Isa Blagden
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 31, 8–10.
19. Warwick Crescent, Upper Westbourne Terr.
[19 January 1864] [1]
Dearest Isa,
As soon as I came home, after writing that letter, I remembered my omissions: give your—or rather, give what I enclose to Stewart [2] with my love: tell him, it was a real sorrow to me when I found last year that he had left England: when he first called on me, I was not in a condition, to do justice to his kindness by the outward show of my own feeling—but I supposed there would be plenty of time to make up for present loss: when I can, I will send him another photograph: also, assuredly, whatever I have got to dear Jessy White,—let me so call her: I well enough know her heart to me & mine. All the political matters, on which we differ more than ever, have nothing to do with that: give her my old love, as I have already bade you. I am vexed that you are suffering from the cold, dearest Isa,—we had a bitter week here, to Pen’s delight, who bought skates at once and used his time fully. Now, we have mild hideous weather, black at noonday: I shall be anxious to hear how Pisa agrees with you—it was wise to go there. We had a sad Christmas of it with poor Thackeray’s death: on the Wednesday (23) I was to have met him at dinner,—he had sent to say he was unwell, so his empty place was provocative of the usual talk and tattle—next day, 24. I was certain to meet him at dinner also, because the people [3] promised a wonderful Christmas Tree for children, a flock of whom were invited—on arriving, I heard his name mentioned—“Not too unwell to come?” I asked—he was dead. I met him perhaps a fortnight before at the same house—and once after that—in a house once Mr Kenyon’s [4] —and the last thing I remember his saying to me was “I wonder where the old owner of this place is now?”—to which I replied—“Just what was in my mind!” He was always unwell, so never inspired any sort of apprehension. Everybody feels kindly towards him now—his defects were quite noticeable enough, but of a kind to let the goodness show through: and I am rather struck to find how much I must have liked him, these many years. The poor girls [5] have been at the Isle of Wight but return to Town soon. Bless us all, we can’t make too much of each other, while the little time lasts. I am told he looked grandly in his coffin: Thackeray with all the nonsense gone would be grand indeed, and I hope and trust that so it proves.
Pen caught a cough and cold in common with all the world, and I was uneasy about it, as it would not go: it is much better, however: skating &c don’t assist lozenges in such a case. He continues to do very well, putting increasing interest into his various business: I am very glad in the hope that he will get scholarship, accomplishment, health,—and be happy and indulged all the same. I hope there will not be holes and gaps in his mind, but that it will be all equally cared for up to the time when individual tastes go ahead.
I shall certainly expect to see you in the Autumn or perhaps Summer:—I have just learned from Brini of the payment of a second instalment which denotes that the work is two-thirds finished: [6] I have determined at last that the central medallion shall be appropriated; not to a Portrait, but to an ideal head of “Poetry”: [7] a portrait proves to be impossible,—one, that is, which we would accept: there is nothing to be done but submit to a necessity—for any playing with the truth there would be hateful to me. Leighton’s whole conduct has been entirely noble and generous: he will go to Florence and see the last of the work. I certainly have met with many admirable natures in my life.
I wish I had time to talk more with my dearest friend, Isa—but I am pressed into a corner. Good bye, for this time: don’t write any day when you are in such a hurry as to hinder what I should else get—for I love every scrap of news and gossip from Florence, as you know: yet, on second thought do write, however hurriedly, for I should get uneasy indeed were you to make no sign. (Mr Mackay has just made a long call—I can only end, with Pen’s best love as he begs me to say. God bless you, dearest Isa
Yours ever affectionately
R Browning.
Publication: DI, pp. 184–186.
Manuscript: Armstrong Browning Library.
1. Dated by RB’s reference to Thackeray’s death (see letter 5314, note 7) and by RB’s pledge to write Isa on the 19th of each month (see letter 5089, note 1).
2. James Montgomery Stuart (1816–89); see letter 2807, note 8.
3. The Benzons, at 10 Kensington Palace Gardens. Thackeray’s house was nearby at 2 Palace Green. The Benzons’ Christmas Eve tradition is mentioned in a letter from Sarianna to Joseph Milsand: “Robert … went to the Benzons’ grand Christmas tree. It was as usual, a most magnificent affair, upwards of six feet high, lighted with 144 candles in the branches, and loaded with articles of the costliest description, gold watches, chains, trinkets &c you know their wealth & how they lavish it. There was a grand supper” (27 December 1866, ms at ABL/JMA).
4. 40 York Terrace, Regent’s Park, then the residence of Alicia Bayne.
5. Anne Thackeray and Minnie Thackeray (see letter 3297, note 8).
___________________
