2621. EBB to Arabella & Henrietta Moulton-Barrett
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 14, 13–18.
Written at Roanne [1]
Oct 2– 1846.
I thank & bless you my dearest dearest Henrietta & Arabel .. my own dearest, kindest sisters!– What I suffered in reaching Orleans, & at last holding all these letters in my hands, can only be measured by my deep gratitude to you, & by the tears & kisses I spent upon every line of what you wrote to me .. dearest & kindest that you are. The delay of the week in Paris brought me to the hour of my death warrant at Orleans—my ‘death warrant’ I called it at the time, I was so anxious & terrified. Robert brought in a great packet of letters .. & I held them in my hands, not able to open one, & growing paler & colder every moment. He wanted to sit by me while I read them, but I would not let him– I had resolved never to let him do that, before the moment came—so, after some beseeching, I got him to go away for ten minutes, to meet the agony alone, & with more courage so, according to my old habit you know– And besides, it was right not to let him read––– They were very hard letters, those from dearest Papa & dearest George– To the first I had to bow my head– I do not seem to myself to have deserved that full cup, in the intentions of this act—but he is my father & he takes his own view, of course, of what is before him to judge of. But for George, I thought it hard, I confess, that he should have written to me so with a sword. To write to me as if I did not love you all .. I, who would have laid down my life at a sign, if it could have benefitted one of you really & essentially:—with the proof you should have had life & happiness at a sign. It was hard that he should use his love for me to half break my heart with such a letter—— Only he wrote in excitement & in ignorance– I ask of God to show to him & to the most unbelieving of you, that never, never did I love you better, all my beloved ones, than when I left you—than in that day, & that moment. I ask Him too to bless you from Himself, my own beloved sisters, for the good & blessing & tears your writing brought me, when I read last the kindness & faith of it.
Now I will tell you—Robert who had been waiting at the door, I believe, in great anxiety about me, came in & found me just able to cry from the balm of your tender words– I put your two letters into his hands, & he, when he had read them, said with tears in his eyes, & kissing them between the words—“I love your sisters with a deep affection– I am inexpressibly grateful to them– It shall be the object of my life to justify their trust as they express it here.” He said it with tears in his eyes. May God bless you—bless you!–
Dearest Henrietta & Arabel, .. how I suffered that day—that miserable saturday .. when I had to act a part to you—how I suffered! & how I had to think to myself that if I betrayed one pang of all, I should involve you deeply in the grief which otherwise remained my own. And Arabel to see through it, notwithstanding!– I was afraid of her—she looked at me so intently, or was so grave .. my dearest, dearest Arabel! Understand both of you, that if, from the apparent necessities of the instant, I consented to let the ceremony precede the departure by some few days, it was upon the condition of not seeing him again in that house & till we went away. We parted, as we met, at the door of Marylebone Church—he kissed me at the communion table, & not a word passed after. I looked like death, he has said since. You see we were afraid of a sudden removal preventing everything, [2] —or at least, laying the unpleasantness on me of a journey to London previous to the ceremony, which particularly I should have hated, for very obvious reasons. There was no elopement in the case, but simply a private marriage,—& to have given the least occasion to a certain class of observations, was repugnant to both of us. And then, he was, reasonably enough, afraid lest I should be unequal to the double exertion of the church & the railway, on the same morning: and as he wished it, & had promised not to see me, I thought it was mere cavilling on my part, to make a difficulty. Wilson knew nothing till the night before. What I suffered under your eyes, you may guess—it was in proportion to every effort successfully made to disguise the suffering. Painful it is to look back upon now– Forgive me for what was expiated in the deepest of my heart.
With your letters at Orleans, I had one from dearest Mr Kenyon, in reply to those which we had written to him at the last. Nothing could be more generously & trustingly kind—& to poor Robert it was a great relief, as the verdict of a friend whom he loved & looked up to on many grounds– I will transcribe to you what Mr Kenyon says, .. for you—you will understand how it is of great price to us. “My dearest EBB I received your & your husband’s letters yesterday. To speak briefly as I must, I sympathize in all you have both been thinking & feeling, & in all you have done. Nothing but what is generous in thought & action could come from you & Browning– And the very peculiar circumstances of your case have transmuted what might have been otherwise called “Imprudence” into “Prudence,” & apparent wilfulness into real necessity.—— To speak personally of you both, .. I know no two persons so worthy of each other; & to speak personally to you both, be assured that out of your own households, you can have no warmer & more affectionate well-wisher than I am. It is a pleasant vision to me to think that, if I live, I may hereafter enjoy your joint society & affection, as hitherto I have derived happiness from each of you singly– .... Altogether I am not only delighted that you, my dearest cousin, should have so virtuous, & highminded a protector, but if the thing had been asked of me I should have advised it, albeit glad that I was not asked for the reason which I have given. Saying God bless you both, I am obliged to close abruptly &c… Most affectionately yours always & ever J. Kenyon.” The one or two sentences omitted, (for I have not room) are in harmony with all the rest– Dearest, kindest Mr Kenyon! how I love him better than ever!– Also I had kind notes from Miss Mitford, Nelly Bordman & Mr Jago, who sent me the prescription for the draughts with ever so many good wishes. Nelly wishes to be let go to see you sometimes, Arabel, .. which for my sake you will not say ‘no’ to. She loves me, & is worthy of love. I wrote to Jane when I was in Paris .. or rather about to leave it—but to Bummy I have not written yet. When the fatigue gives me half an hour I will do it, be sure. I thank you for those letters you speak of having written for me. Did you get my long letter from Paris? And Trippy, my short note from Havre? Oh, dear Trippy—let her not think hardly of me. No one can judge of this act, except some one who knows thoroughly the man I have married. He rises on me hour by hour. If ever a being of a higher order lived among us without a glory round his head, in these later days, he is such a being. Papa thinks that I have sold my soul for genius .. mere genius. Which I might have done when I was younger, if I had had the opportunity, .. but am in no danger of doing now. For my sake, for the love of me, from an infatuation which from first to last has astonished me, .. he has consented to occupy for a moment a questionable position– But those who question most, will do him justice fullest—& we must wait a little with resignation. In the meanwhile, what he is, & what he is to me, I wd fain teach you– Have faith in me to believe it. He puts out all his great faculties to give me pleasure & comfort, .. charms me into thinking of him when he sees my thoughts wandering .. forces me to smile in spite of all of them– If you had seen him that day at Orleans– He laid me down on the bed & sate by me for hours, pouring out floods of tenderness & goodness, & promising to win back for me, with God’s help, the affection of such of you as were angry– And he loves me more & more– Today we have been together a fortnight, & he said to me with a deep, serious tenderness .. “I kissed your feet, my Ba, before I married you—but now I would kiss the ground under your feet, I love you with a so much greater love.” And this is true, I see & feel. I feel to have the power of making him happy .. I feel to have it in my hands. It is strange that anyone so brilliant should love me—but true & strange it is .. & it is impossible for me to doubt it any more– Perfectly happy therefore we should be, if I could look back on you all without this pang– His family have been very kind. His father considered him of age to judge, & never thought of interfering otherwise than by saying at the last moment .. “Give your wife a kiss from me” .. this, when they parted. His sister sent me a little travelling writing desk, with a word written .. “EBB, from her sister Sarianna”– Nobody was displeased at the reserve used towards them, understanding that there were reasons for it which did not detract from his affection for them & my respect.
I told you that Mrs Jameson was travelling with us, & that we had seen a great deal of her in Paris. She repeats, of Robert, that she never knew anyone of so affluent a mind & imagination combined with a nature & manners so sunshiney & captivating– Which she well may say .. for he amuses us from morning till night,—thinks of everybody’s feelings, .. is witty & wise, .. (& foolish too in the right place) charms cross old women who cry out in the diligence “mais, madame, mes jambes!” [3] .. talks latin to the priests, who enquire at three in the morning whether Newman & Pusey are likely “lapsare in erroribus” [4] (you will make out that) & forgets nothing & nobody … except himself .. it is the only omission. He has won Wilson’s heart I do assure you—& by the way, Wilson is excellent & active beyond what I could have expected of her. Most affectionate & devoted she has been to me throughout, & now she is not scared by the French, but has learnt already to get warm water & coffee & bread & butter. We applaud Wilson very deservedly. And she desires me to name her to you, & to regret properly that she was “forced to leave your things in such disorder.” Also she is a little afraid of dear Minny, lest Minny shd be angry with her. Let dear Minny forgive her if she can—because the blame was all mine, you know, & Wilson’s part was simply the consequence of her attachment to me & her unwillingness to leave me to my trial alone. By the way, what does George mean by speaking of “Arabel or Minny my accomplices”? Does he not believe me when I have spoken the very contrary of such a thing?—or is it that dear Minny has spoken too gently of me to be unblamed? For my Arabel, I know her as I love her, .. & do not ask how she spoke.
But I think .. think .. of the suffering I caused you, my own, own Arabel, that evening!– I tremble thinking of you that evening—my own dearest dearest Arabel!– Oh—do not fancy that new affections can undo the old. I love you now even more, I think. Robert is going to write to you from Pisa, & to Henrietta also– He loves you as his sisters, he says, & wishes that you were with us, & hopes that one day you will be with us, .. staying & travelling with us, .. exactly as I do myself. And I must not forget to tell you that Mrs Jameson said the other day to me, .. “Well, it is the most charming thing to see you & Mr Browning together! If two persons were to be chosen from the ends of the earth for perfect union & fitness, there could not be a greater congruity than between you two–” Which I tell you, because I think it will please you to hear what is an honest impression of hers, though far too great a compliment to me– (The only thing she objects to, is his way of calling me “Ba” .. which I like: & which she never will talk him out of, I am confident, because he likes it as well–) And for the rest, if he is brilliant & I am dull, (socially speaking) Love makes a level—which is my comfort.
Two separate (not following, of course) nights we have passed in the diligence;—& I have had otherwise a good deal of fatigue which has done me no essential harm. I am taken such care of,—so pillowed by arms & knees .. so carried up & down stairs against my will, .. so spoilt & considered in every possible way. Also the change of air does me good– I am able to do more—& when we get to our rest at Pisa, the fatigue will leave no trace, I think, except of good. You would stare however to see me thrown abroad out of all my habits, .. ! I seem to be in a feverish dream. Tomorrow we take the railroad to Lyons, & the next day embark on the Rhone. At Avignon, we pause a day & go to Vaucluse to hunt Petrarch’s footsteps. [5] Today I have not been allowed to stir from this bed where I write, because last night we were travelling—& there has been a table brought close to it (foreign fashion, Arabel!) for Robert to dine on & to make me dine– Mrs Jameson & Gerardine dine by themselves in their own room today, much in the same way.
I am so glad that you are in the country—do write—do write .. & tell me everything, & tell me if you like Little Bookham. Half of my soul is with you .. May God bless you my own beloved ones. Give my best love to dear Mr Boyd, to whom I shall write in time– And let Mrs Martin understand the same– And do you feel & know, that as for me .. for my position as a wife .. it is awfully happy for this world. He is too good & tender, & beyond me in all things—& we love each other with a love that grows instead of diminishing. I speak to you of such things rather than of the cathedral at Bourges, because it is of these, I feel sure, that you desire knowledge rather.
I am going to write to Papa—& to George—very soon, I shall. Ah—dear George would not have written so, if he had known my whole heart—yet he loved me while he wrote, as I felt with every pain the writing caused me. Dear George—I love him to his worth– And my poor Papa!– My thoughts cling to you all, & will not leave their hold. Dearest Henrietta & Arabel let me be as ever & for ever
Your fondly attached Ba–
Does Stormie like the new house? my dearest Stormie.
Flush is very gracious, & behaves perfectly—but moans & wails on the railroad, when the barbarians insist on putting him into a box.
May God bless you, dearest all of you– I hope dear Trippy is with you.
I meant you to have the letters an hour after I left Wimpole Street– It was very unhappy—I grieve for it. As to going to Bookham, I had thought of that once—but the wrong to you wd have been greater, to have spoilt & clouded the new scene, instead of allowing it to be a resource to you– Be happy, my dearest ones– I will write, be sure–
Address: Angleterre / Miss Barrett / The Rectory / Little Bookham / near Leatherhead / Surrey.
Publication: TTUL, pp. 1–12.
Manuscript: British Library.
1. EBB made this notation on the reverse of the envelope.
2. The Barrett family household was temporarily relocated to the Rectory in Little Bookham, Surrey, while 50 Wimpole Street was redecorated. This move precipitated the Brownings’ marriage and departure to Italy.
3. “But, madam, my legs!”
4. “To lapse into error.”
5. The fountain, or spring, of Vaucluse, near Avignon, is the source of the river Sorgue, and was immortalised by Petrarch. Vaucluse is referred to by EBB in Casa Guidi Windows, I, 1111–18, and by RB in “Apparent Failure,“ line 12.
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