Cranford

KAPITEL XI.

The narrator reflects that the mutual devotion of Signor Brunoni and his wife would have been the truest discouragement to matrimony, for through every sorrow they thought only of each other and of little Phoebe. Mrs. Brown, on being questioned about Miss Pole’s story of the twin brothers, confirms that her brother-in-law Thomas is often taken for the real Signor Brunoni, though she cannot conceive how, since Thomas lacks her husband’s graceful carriage and has never been to India. She then relates how she followed her husband, Sergeant Sam Brown of the 31st regiment, to India, where she lost six children, and how, when Phoebe was born, she set off alone to Calcutta carrying the baby, sustained by a picture of the Virgin and Child given her by a grieving officer’s wife. The kindness of natives and the aid of strangers enabled her to reach Calcutta and save her child, and later Sam earned his discharge and took up conjuring with Thomas’s help, the brothers’ likeness making many tricks succeed. Hearing that a certain Aga Jenkyns had helped them when Phoebe fell ill at Chunderabaddad, the narrator suddenly wonders whether this Aga Jenkyns might be the long-lost Peter, whose fate Miss Matty secretly believes has not been death but the dignity of Great Lama of Thibet.

Narrator’s reflection on the Brunoni couple’s mutual devotion amid hardship

The narrator reflects that, though Miss Pole’s warnings might give pause, it is the example of the Brunoni couple—Signor Brunoni and his wife—who most affect her thoughts on marriage. Despite their hardships and sorrows, the couple consistently think of each other and their child Phoebe rather than of themselves, and their joys are sharpest when shared through one another or through the little girl, offering an encouragement to conjugal devotion.

Mrs Brown confirms Miss Pole’s twin-brother story and recounts her military marriage

Asked by the narrator whether Miss Pole’s story about the twin brothers is true, Mrs Brown (the signora, who prefers this English name) confirms it. Her brother-in-law Thomas, who often helps them in their conjuring act, is frequently mistaken for her husband, which she finds baffling. She describes how Thomas’s clumsy, fist-like grip in the ball trick contrasts with her husband’s graceful flourish, and notes that Thomas has never been to India and lacks the proper manner of wearing a turban. Asked about India, she reveals that her husband Sam served as a sergeant in the 31st regiment, and that she drew a lot to accompany him when the regiment was ordered there, preferring that to the slow death of being parted from him.

Mrs Brown’s grief over losing six children during her time in India

Mrs Brown confides to the narrator that the years in India brought unimaginable sorrow: she lost six children, each one dying “like little buds nipped untimely.” She describes the wild, searching look in the eyes of mothers who have lost children—a look the narrator has only ever seen on such women. Though she vowed after each death that she could never love again, each new child brought not only its own love but a deeper love compounded by the memory of its dead siblings. Fearing that the birth of Phoebe would drive her mad with grief if this child too were taken, she begged her husband Sam to let her journey down to Calcutta with the baby, hoping the slow, purposeful travel might “work off” the madness rising within her.

Mrs Brown’s arduous journey with infant Phoebe from India to Calcutta

Mrs Brown recounts her grueling journey carrying infant Phoebe from the Indian upcountry station to Calcutta. With her husband saving his pay and she saving every pice she could from washing and other work, she set off alone with the child, passing through dark, thick forests and along riversides, comforted by the sound of flowing water that reminded her of growing up near the Avon in Warwickshire. An officer’s grieving lady, who had also lost children, gave her a small round picture of the Virgin holding the infant Saviour—their cheeks touching—which became Mrs Brown’s solace when her body was weary and her heart sick. Natives, though they could not understand one another’s words, recognized her motherhood and brought her rice, milk, and flowers. Once, when she and her baby desperately needed rest, God led her to a kind Englishman living in the midst of the natives. Near the end of her journey, she stopped at a native temple to give thanks, feeling that any place where others had prayed in joy or agony was itself sacred. She reached Calcutta safely, served as attendant to an invalid lady who grew fond of Phoebe, and after two years Sam earned his discharge and rejoined them.