1244. RB to Alfred Domett
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 7, 124–126.
New Cross, Hatcham, Surrey.
Monday, May 15, 1843.
My dear Domett,
A ship sails for your port to-morrow, I see, and I must say a word or two by its help—tho’ I shall not deny that the sad news received since I last wrote [1] —(some two or three days only)—make this poor inefficient business of writing very painful just now. Let me only trust that you and all friends “grieve down this blow.” [2] I have heard something, too, of a mischance of your own—some accident to your leg—of which I shall hear more from C. Dowson in a few days. You will come back again, I know, for I .. know it, having set my heart on it—but do come back safely & soundly, in limb as well as life!
What shall I tell you?—that we are dead asleep in literary things and in great want of a “rousing word” (as the old puritans phrase it) from New Zealand or any place out of this snoring dormitory. Carlyle has just given us a book, [3] however; not the study on English History (Cromwell &c) [4] that he was engaged on when you were with us; but then what, in short, I shall send you by next ship. Carlyle came here a few weeks ago; walked about the place, and talked very wisely and beautifully. He cannot get on for the row & noise—and wants to take a cottage with a couple of rooms only—“for,” said he, “I can dress my own meals—roast beef and boil tea—do everything for myself.” His brother, Dr Carlyle, came with him—a remarkable man, too. [5]
My own health is none of the best. I go out but seldom—so keep meaning to see Arnould and other friends instead of seeing them—(that is, for some weeks, almost months, past.) I saw your Father at Chapel yesterday, however, and can testify to his excellent looks. So glides this foolish life away, week by week! I have a desk full of scrawls at which I look, and work a little. I want to publish a few more numbers of my “Bells”—and must also make-up my mind to finish a play I wrote lately for Charles Kean, if he will have it. (Macready has used me vilely.) [6] But I seem only beginning to see what one (—someone, you—) might do, writing. They take to criticizing me a little more, in the Reviews,—and God send I be not too proud of their abuse! For there is no hiding the fact that it is of the proper old drivelling virulence with which God’s Elect have in all ages been regaled. One poor bedevilling idiot, whose performance reached me last night only, told a friend of mine, the night before that, “how in reality he admired beyond measure this & the other book of Mr B’s—but that in the review, he thought it best to” &c &c– This Abhorson boasted that he got £400 a year by his practices! But New Zealand is still left me!
The Royal Academy opened last week (that is, its Exhibition—what English I write!—) and may shut again as fast as possible: two or three fine couloured [sic] little things by Etty, a clear bright Mediterranean reminiscence of Stanfield’s, and, in sculpture, a clever group, by Lough—I desire to see again. Turner is hopelessly gone (Lance, your friend, has a very happy single figure—a village coquette—that I would see twice, too.) [7]
Do you know anything of Sir John Hanmer’s poetry? [8] I think—am sure, indeed, you do, or did,—for we spoke of them one day. I know him & them, and (whether his fine simple nature puts me into conceit of them)—like them much—so much, that I should be vexed if you did not like them,—so do not send them till further advice. He knows your verses.
Should you like to write for any Review here? You had formerly some notion of the kind, I think. I can get access to several Editors now,—there is an odd way the Tory prints have, at present, of getting along—they hire Liberals, and let them be Liberal: so that the market is thrown open. I will bargain my best for you—but don’t leave of[f] ploughing, for poetry will come of that! Here the vilest mill goes round & round; one quarterly has an article on Leibnitz, another on Spinosa [sic], a third on Descartes—and outside the dry dust track is a strip of sand, and beyond,—your country.
I am dull, in every sense, this dull evening, and you are veritably nearer to me than the people in the city five miles off– Some call me over from time to time—(there lies note the last, which I stopped this to say “no” to)—but these are away—so are not you. I wish I had seen more of you, for I forget nothing I did see, and so should be richer and better able to bear dull evenings—but, the time will come yet—“meantime, all my wishes flee to your home beyond the sea,” as dear Procter sings. [9] God bless you: you will be glad to hear we are all well; all thoroughly yours, of course. Pritchard, who loves you, is well—I know nobody else of your acquaintance. You will write to me when you can, I am sure; and tell me anything I may do—commission to execute—so far as my poor ability goes.
Ever yours, my dear Domett,
R Browning.
Publication: RB-AD, pp. 53–58.
Manuscript: British Library.
1. Of the death of William Curling Young.
2. We have not located the source of this quotation.
3. Past and Present.
4. Carlyle published Oliver Cromwell’s Letters and Speeches: With Elucidations in 1845.
5. John Aitken Carlyle (1801–79) had been successively private physician to Lady Clare and the Duke of Buccleuch; after giving up these posts, he lived near his elder brother, to whom he made himself very useful, medically and otherwise (DNB).
6. The play intended for Kean was Colombe’s Birthday, but, despite RB’s intention, it was not published until April 1844. For an account of RB’s quarrel with Macready over the handling of A Blot in the ’Scutcheon, see SD1191.
7. William Etty (1787–1849) was exhibiting seven pictures at the Academy. Clarkson Stanfield (1793–1867) had five entries; RB probably refers to “The Castle of Ischia, Kingdom of Naples.” John Graham Lough (1798–1876) was showing six sculptures, but the only group was a marble of “A Bacchanalian Revel.” J.M.W. Turner (1775–1851) had six paintings on display. George Lance (1802–64) was showing only “The Village Coquette.”
8. Two volumes of Hanmer’s poetry were given to RB when he visited Hanmer in 1842 (see letter 1014, note 1).
9. Lines 23–24 of “On a Lady Slandered,” slightly misquoted.
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