SD2778. Sarianna Browning to Joseph Milsand
Published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 31, 322–323 (in part).
chez M. Laraison.
Maire de Ste. Marie–
près Pornic.
Loire Infere
Aug. 3rd [1865] [1]
My dear Mr Milsand–
As our two last letters crossed it is difficult to say whose turn it is to write. I expected a letter from you and perhaps you are waiting for me—however I am not standing upon turns for I now write the first minute I can get a pen in my hand.
I hope you have duly received all the papers I forwarded up to the time of Robert’s leaving town. He crossed over on Saturday the 29th and arrived at our house at a little past nine in the evening. The day had been so bright and fine with us that I was congratulating the travellers on their pleasant journey, when I found that the sea had been remarkably rough, and that Robert had never suffered so much in his life in such a short passage. He brought over the last number of his Moxon selection—which I sent you on Sunday—and three Pall Malls & a Punch, which I shall send with this: he also brought for your acceptance a dozen of small table knives, fancying that he had previously given you some large ones, and he now recollects that he only intended to do so, but having your brother’s commission with him he did not like to bring too much cutlery—so your large knives must be for a future occasion. The night before he came we had had a great fire close to us—a manufactory for cutting wood in the rue de l’Eglise was burnt down and the sparks fell over our house. Papa who enjoys a fire was up and dressed and out in the street in a minute, and it was two o’clock in the morning before he was in bed again—the fire broke out at midnight—no lives were lost, but one man a good deal burnt. The weather was intensely hot in Paris—on Sunday Miss Church took her farewell dinner with us– I am afraid she will be lonely now I am gone. She does not sail till the 25th. Robert brought me the two large photographs he spoke of—(I think them hideous) two smaller, better: one of Pen—the only one he has—there will be one taken for the title page of Moxon’s selections. There is a very good portrait of Mr Locker, by Doyle, which makes the frontispiece to his little volume. Robt brought me also the Fortnightly Reviews, and the Quarterly which contains a critique on himself, but I have not had time even to glance at them. We started early on Monday Mg—had a pleasant journey though very hot—we slept at Tours—the next morning we took the seven o’clock train for Nantes—and by pushing on at once, and securing places in the diligence for Pornic—(Robt Pen & I rode outside on the impériale, and left to Papa & Mme Louis the only two vacant inside places)—managed to reach Ste Marie late at night. We were very tired—and we outsiders were shivering with cold. I believe some storms have passed somewhere, for Ste Marie is colder than we have ever known it. Last evening Robt & I took our usual walk over the cliffs, were overtaken by a storm of rain, and returned home drenched and dripping. Rt seems in good health & spirits—he has a remarkable love for this place which is not very beautiful, after all—but the freshness of the air is wonderful. I have not yet bathed, feeling rather chilly, and having a good many material wants to attend to—it is very primitive and uncultivated in this nook of earth. The bareness of the accommodations is extraordinary, and I have been hard at work, trying to make the place comfortable. Pornic is very full of visitors, I believe.
Mrs Bracken & Willy are expected daily; the house they used to occupy is let, but there is one in the neighbourhood which may suit them. They are to sail to St Malo—thence by rail to Nantes. Pen is longing for his friend, and does not like to begin bathing without him. My father seems already better for the sea breezes– Tell me how you are—you and yours. I have no doubt you make a very tolerable schoolmaster.
I myself am not particularly fond of schools, and if I had had a daughter of my own, should certainly never have sent her to school: but I believe that in general professional teachers instruct better than amateurs. The latter have more zeal, but the former know their trade better—have more patience—more knack—and from experience know where the difficulty presents itself to a child’s mind. Of course I speak merely of book-learning. Kiss Claire for me.
Robert sends his best love to you. Pen is always enquiring affectionately after you. I find that he merely knows that you are married—not that you are a father, Robt being anxious to conceal it from him as long as he can. Of course he must know it sooner or later, but Rt is naturally reluctant to tell him. I am very glad to hear such glowing accounts of the Vines this year. I always think of you when I hear of the abundant vintage which is looked for. Let me hear from you soon. I have a good three quarters of an hour’s walk to the Post Office at Pornic whenever I have letters or journals to send. The postman is just arrived but brings me nothing from you. Yesterday I had a letter from Mme Dumangin—she hopes to meet us this year at Biarritz again, but will not find us. Good bye, dear Friend
Ever yours affectionately,
S. Browning.
Address: Monsieur / Milsand. / Maison François Meriel. / St Aubin sur Mer. / par Caen. / Calvados.
Publication: None traced.
Manuscript: Armstrong Browning Library, Joseph Milsand Archive.
1. Year provided by postmark.
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