had been no buyers, and any intention of staying in France for good had evaporated. âI am sorry your health is no better; but I hope preparations for your return will take you out of yourself, and your native air will prove beneficial/ Giulio Beccaria wrote to Manzoni. âOne does not know how to treat nervous disorders; I still suffer from them, and donât know what to do about it. Distraction and motion are the only things that seem to help. You apply too little of the first of these-remedies, and at times a bit too much of the second, for I have found by experience that it may help momentarily to tire oneself when one has an attack of convulsions, but afterwards it is harmful, like taking strong drinks when one has indigestion: it seems to give relief, but in fact it aggravates the trouble and the difficulty of overcoming it. I consider that the effect of the convulsions is to make the nerves oscillate in an irregular way, and that excessive activity increases this uncomfortable oscillation which must be dangerous for such a weakness. â Uncle Giulio thought of everything, went to Brusuglio to talk to the agent, sent off parcels with copies of II conte di Carmagnola, and busied himself in an unpleasant law-suit which some relatives of Don Pietro, âle consorti Manzoniâ, had brought against Alessandro concerning the inheritance.
Il conte di Carmagnola was dedicated to rauriel, as a testimony to my cordial and reverent friendshipâ. It was printed by Ferrano of Milan, at the authorâs expense. It met with approval and criticism in the papers, but did not have much success with the public. Fauriel wrote a French prose translation of it.
They planned to return to Italy in May. âIt is as if I were not in Paris at all, â Giulia wrote to Canon Tosi. There was some truth in it, but she liked to emphasize to the canon what a strict life she was leading. âIn the morning I leave for church with Alessandro, or on my own when he cannot come. . . otherwise, because of the winter weather, I am cooped up in these little rooms, but now Calderari has gone it will be better for me to go out a bit with Alessandro. Giulietta wants me to send you her love, she is still not well at all, she is a bit homesick for Milan and asks you to pray for her. â Giulietta suffered from such severe headaches that they had to call a doctor and apply leeches to her legs. âEvery day I see more clearly that my strength, my head, my knowledge, as well as the continual bustle around me make it quite impossible for me to establish a plan of education, â Enrichetta wrote, also to the Canon. As the children were so often ill, the idea of sending the bigger children to school was put aside, and a governess was taken on, a certain Mademoiselle de Rancé, adopted daughter of an old friend of Giuliaâs; she was always dressed in black although very young, she had a gentle but firm manner, and was extremely religious: for a week she had prayed to God that they would appoint her, although she had an excellent situation with a rich aristocratic family, but when she saw the Manzoni children she thought them so charming that she wanted to be called to educate them. Enrichetta thought she had been sent to them from Heaven, but she soon realised she was something of a fanatic: she belonged to the parish of Saint-Sulpice; she had enflamed political ideas of a âsul-picianâ character, that is to say, monarchical and reactionary, which she communicated to the children, and Enrichetta did not like this at all. âBesides,â she wrote to Canon Tosi, âeveryone in France is obsessed with politics, or so it seems to me, since even women are involved in politics in an extraordinary way; but I think this is bound to create difficulties in educating children. â âI feel that a cool, balanced temperament is required with childrenâ. She was preparing to dismiss Mademoiselle de Rancé. I