2660. EBB to Arabella Moulton-Barrett
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 14, 139–148
[Pisa]
[?5–] Finished on the 9th of March. [1847] [1]
My own dearest Arabel, I know that this letter is not in turn .. but it seems to me that we are entangled in our correspondence some way, & that I answer Henrietta’s letters to you, & yours to her– Therefore I shall try to set the threads straight, & begin by thanking you for the kindness I had from you yesterday in these dear sheets– The next letter will be from her, & so we shall be all right again. Very anxiously I have been waiting to hear of dear Stormie– As he was to go, he could not go better– May God bless him & us by keeping him well & bringing us all together happily. Oh, I know & understand that he has a tender heart .. & I believe that under different circumstances, the impulses of it would have acted quite differently. As it is, he wrote me a frank affectionate letter, for which I shall thank him .. dear Stormie!– How much better it would be if Papa had spoken before, openly, calmly, kindly, .. & not kept for the hours of parting, confidences which would have brightened & softened the years of actual association. I know by myself & <…> [2] his influence over me, how one is powerless, .. how I should have dropped .. not the sense of a right, .. but the power of claiming a right, .. before a little frankness of affectionateness. As to prayer, I really do not understand the principle he goes upon—& of course it is one which, if carried out, would dissolve every congregation in the world. I love him & grieve for him—he cannot be happy, I think, in the depths of his heart, when he can give no sympathy, extend no pardon, make no allowances—it must be a continual wrestling against those natural feelings which he has, let him heap the stones over them ever so– [3] The whole Repose of Christ lies in one word .. forgiveness .. and if we cast it from us, what remains?– Is Alfred any nearer than he was to being shaken hands with as Alfred? I wish Stormie had taken courage & spoken for him before he went—and this for dear Papa’s sake more than Alfred’s own. You do not say whether he gets on or how—whether new offers have been made to him & what? If I were Surtees Cook I would sell my commission, & embark in some civil employment at once—military affairs will not prosper nowadays, though Ld Palmerston & M. Guizot quarrel ten times over. [4] He may get his appointment .. but it is a chance; & to my mind, other chances are better. Agencies upon properties he has not the necessary vocation & instruction for I imagine—a great deal of specific knowledge being necessary for the management of a property. Do you think I could undertake to manage a dairy? .. par exemple!– The cream wd turn sour in the pans at the very prospect of it. If I were he, I shd try for a share in some business .. & advertize, for the first step—and that is, because so many employments appear to be infra dig .. for “a man in the army.” Otherwise it wd not be difficult, I shd think, to take occupation on the railroad, somewhere, at home or abroad—& as an engineer, observe, this may be done, certainly, as captain or major even. Where is Mr Hunter now? you do not say. Has his pupil left him? is he in London—Norwood? tell me. What his pretext can be for quarrelling now at least, is a question that moves my wonder. Did he mention my name when he was with you? Can anything be in more excerable [sic] taste than the whole bearing of him!—& yet have patience with him, & remember how he walks among the thorns– Last time I was at the Duomo, three chairs off from us sate a man so like him that he quite distracted my attention from the friar—only there was less intellect in the face, & more good humour .. & also he might have been a few years younger. But the eyes, nose, mouth, shape of the cheeks, manner of the hair .. oh, so like! I pushed Robert to make him look at him—it was a most striking likeness. Very glad I am to hear of dear Mary’s position, because it is safe & happy for her– Otherwise she certainly might have forty or fifty pounds a year I shd fancy, in a private family .. but then she wd not be with her friends. Give her my best love & say that often I think of her.
—As to Bummy .. dont mind, my darling Arabel!—dont be angry– She has ideas of a different “dispensation” from the one regnant in the world just now, when (to do the bad world justice) it has got to be more enlightened on certain social rights than it used to be. People have learnt now the possibility of being tolerably upright & pure out of buckram—and then, Bummy, … why you know her so well that you cd not certainly be surprised at anything written either to you or to me. For my part, I dont feel in the least angry—& if you see her, you may give her a kiss for me without drawback of malice. Besides, she laid all the blame on me (which was just & right) & sent a very kind message to Robert—. Only I was a naughty child, & whipt, .. which I did’nt mind so very much!– So dont you mind– Consider, that she has to choose examples for Arlette .. & for you & Henrietta besides!– Jane’s letter & her’s received on the same day, made certainly a curious contrast. For my part, to friends & opponents, I wish nothing better nor worse (as far as concerns me) than for both to witness & see how perfectly happy I am in my new position—and as to Robert I will answer for it (let that sound ever so conceited!) that he has not repented yet for half a moment. We are not rich—but on the other hand, we neither of us wish to run into expenses—— Oh—by the way, Arabel, you ask about the proceeds from Moxon– The seventy five pounds this year represent both Robert’s & my poems—and then you are to remember that he published last summer three “Bells & Pomegranates” [5] which made a certain expense, all safely covered & leaving an overplus. An hundred & eighty copies of my poems remain, together with copies of his—and nothing forbids .. indeed it seems a matter of course .. that next year, we shd have at least as much. For several years now the expenses of publication have been so surely covered—his poems, that Moxon has sent him in no bill even .. but the overplus was a pleasant surprise– I assure you we shall make our way by poetry yet .. you will see. The ship money this year is not so well as George supposed [6] .. but it is of no consequence to grand people like us .. we always end by saying to one another “Oh, we shall do very well”. As for me I dare say I shd get into ever so many scrapes & debts if left to myself .. but he who hates a debt like a scorpion, (or rather far worse) not only has everything paid at the moment, but puts it down in a book, so that we may not unconsciously transgress the limit of the in-comings by the out-goings. His poems (having survived all the flat years of poems) are getting on now .. it will be all clear gain now, says Moxon .. & there will be a regular income, even apart from our great schemes—and before the year closes we hope to bring out a collection of poems on Italy, with our separate signatures. [7] Then there is his second edition, .. & presently, perhaps, mine .. in neither of which we shall risk anything– Send me a list of what did appear of mine in Blackwood, [8] because I have no copies & must enquire what they mean to do with the rest– Dearest Arabel, why send any ms book, if you could not the right one? It is of no consequence however– You are far far too kind & dear, in thinking to send me the mittens—but they will be most useful gifts to me. I am writing now in detestable leather ones—the shops here not being of the most various– Often I wish (in spite of my manifold extravagances in London) to have brought with me just twice as much as came. The green gown like yours, Robert likes so much that I wont wear it while we have fires– You cant guess what our pinewood fires are. They shoot one through & through (at least one’s gowns) with red hot arrows. This black silk gown, I have on, is shot into fifty holes .. besides some lawful wearing out at the elbows—and Wilson says “Really you must make it last till the fire is done with.” You see, there is no ‘guard,’ no ‘fender’ .. and splinters of the wood fly every moment. Flush looks up in horror & gets close to me for protection. But I was talking of the parcel– I shall write to thank dearest Trippy– As for your goodness, you know how to please me, Arabel– And Henrietta’s slippers, how I shall like to have them!– My direction about the others (the antiques) will have come too late, I observe– Never mind! The teapot is a happy thought too, and I shall like to have it for dear Trippy’s sake. [9] Such a kind affectionate little note she wrote to me—tell her that two people here love her for it .. besides all other reasons– Robert was quite touched by her way of speaking of him– But what is this about her eyes, Arabel? You never told me of this weakness in her eyes .. she says she has lost the sight of one. Why how is this? Do tell me– I hope she does not expose herself to the cold unnecessarily. It is cold here again .. indeed nearly as cold as ever, & we hear of snow at Florence. We thought that summer was come, a week ago .. but pazienza! Our hosts say “Cattiva Pisa” [10] —& Mr Irving’s son, [11] I am sorry to say, is ill again. For my part, I dont run risks like rash people, but keep in these rooms which are very warm. Talk of the coldness of Italian houses!– Why the walls are as thick as an English house almost. We had a visit the other day from Mr & Mrs Irving. Forced to see them!– She is a very young looking woman, & so glorious in silk & velvet as to astound one. Is she a second wife? [12] Surely she must be. Young enough she looks, to be her husband’s daughter. The ‘celebrated Mr Irving’ cannot in any case be her son—the thing is impossible– Very cordial they both were, and I like him. The Surtees’s have changed their house & come into our street—and I heard of Miss Surtees professing to “feel quite well,” in the warm weather a week ago—but now, he told Robert on meeting in the street, she was in bed as a matter of precaution. He called on us the second time, & we were again “at dinner”—“how unfortunate”!– Mr Irving said the other day that his son who is the invalid, was very much vexed not to be able to go out & see Robert—“he has a strong feeling about literary people, & is a great admirer of Mr Browning’s poetry.”——
Not a word yet of poor Wilson! By which you will conclude rightly that the convalescence continues. She is able now to take chicken & pudding everyday without suffering from it, .. and in other respects, seems quite strong. Being desired to take a great deal of exercise, she goes out generally twice a day & walks into the country with Flush. Still, the swelling in the left side is not quite gone .. but it is going off she says, & Dr Cook did not think it important .. & she feels very well when she does not transgress in point of diet. The least fragment of a potatoe, or of butter, she dares not touch– My darling Arabel, I dont beat the air as much as you seem to think, in talking about coffee. It may do your headaches good for the moment, for the occasion, .. as anything warm & stimulating would,—& yet it may be keeping up the cause of the headache, & preparing the next day’s– Dr Cook explained to us how things, really injurious, appear to be remedies, while in effect they are doing harm. Wilson’s complaint was just a crisis, of many of your symptoms– But for the violent sea-sickness she might not have been ill .. but the tendency to the irritation on the coats of the stomach was there .. & any weakness of that sort is increased & exasperated by coffee—it is a specific evil under some circumstances. Oh—I would not exhort you never to touch it!—only to be more moderate than I know you are inclined to be, & not have three great cups a day—as of old– And then the no exercise, .. the staying at home, you hint at!—now is it wise & right of you? Which reminds me (now that I have filled you up to the brim with ill humour .. as far as such a thing can be, that is!) of my own imputed offences about morphine. Always I forget to tell you that I gradually diminish .. to seventeen days for twenty two doses, .. which I used to take in eight days. Whether it is desirable to diminish still faster indeed, I have enquired of Mr Jago– So you may see if I am obstinate, & if I deserve a return-scold. ‘I speak as to a wise woman—judge what I say.’ [13] Robert is very anxious for me to be free of the morphine, & yet even he admits that I do what I can– The cold weather, of which we have had too much for Pisa, has been against great progresses, observe, in this particular respect,—for though it has been very different from England, & I have had much more liberty, .. yet during the whole of January & the beginning of February I was shut up fairly in these rooms, & to leave off morphine by teaspoonfulls at a time.–
March 8th Dearest dear Arabel, I have not written in this letter for two or three days, & here come, inside Mr Kenyon’s letter, your & Henrietta’s most welcome little scraps—oh, how happy it makes me to see your writings!– You are both the best, kindest, dearest .. the words go, which should praise you aright!—so good you are to me. To hear from you is the greatest pleasure I can have .. remember it always! After which proper expression of gratitude, I ought really to scold you, because it is very unreasonable & wrong in you to think of buying gowns for me, & I should be perfectly angry, if anyway I could have the heart. When I say to you all sorts of stuff, it is just for the pleasure of talking stuff to you .. as if we could afford such words .. sitting together over the fire. I open my eyes with wonder at the idea of your making conclusions, & buying for me at Davis’s [14] what I shd have bought for myself in Florence– Everything is to be bought at Florence, say the learned—& at the cheapest. So mind you never do such a thing again, you naughty dearest people .. it is at once too good & too bad of you—so good as to be bad!– Then for you, Arabel, to make me another pair of slippers!! What am I to say? If feet could blush mine would be red as the brick floors you refer to—but as it is they pray my cheeks to do it for them. By the way, it is only in travelling that we fall on the brick floors sometimes, & ours are very carefully covered with reed matting & carpets .. there is more comfort, in fact, than I expected. I must tell you however, now I think of it, (never surely were such rambling letters as mine, .. treating of Heaven, earth, & the kitchen, in paragraphs mixed together!) that dear Treppy’s teapot will form an extraordinary contrast to the general aspect of our “plate & china.” When Dr Cook attended Wilson, & came in to us to make his report, the preparation for our breakfast looked so remarkable, that, after a glance at Robert’s face, I ran away with the teacups into the bedroom–– Do you know what a blue mug is .. a real blue mug, such as when I was a child, I drank my milk out of?– Such is our idea of a teacup in this land of Taste! The coffee pot & milk jug, .. if I call them pewter, you will add a false splendour—they look more like lead .. only I hope they are rather pewter under a cloud. You never saw such “utensils” in the course of your life, I am certain. Item .. two silver spoons, which have to put the sugar into the cups, then, stir the coffee., & then, help the eggs– If I forget to stir my coffee before I break my egg, I turn to supplicate Robert for the use of his spoon .. “just for a moment”. And if both eggs have employed both spoons, & one of us requires another cup of coffee .. should it be Robert, .. I hold out the sugarbasin & graciously enquire if he will put in his own sugar with his own fingers. As to sugartongs I have never seen such a thing since I saw you——neither in France nor Italy. Mrs Jameson used to laugh at my ‘scrupulousness’ in our fine hotel in Paris even!– For the rest, I dare say we shall find more luxury in our next residence,—& indeed here we might have done better if we had made a fuss & not been so supernaturally contented with everything– Our hosts will certainly be in despair to lose us .. for we have paid double like angels, & never rustled our wings– The lady said to me the other day “I loro signori sono buonissimi,” [15] —& in spite of all modesty I did not so very much wonder– Think of having lodgers who pay by the clock, (& twice as much as they ought to pay,) & except on Christmas eve at the cathedral, have not once been “out” later than six in the evening. They must doubt whether Robert is saint or martyr, most. Never even the odour of a chance cigar!– Their garlic has it all its own way along the passages!– They enquired the other day of Wilson if “there were no hope of our staying a little longer” … but for that, no. Five weeks more, & we are gone to Florence. In the meanwhile we have made a great discovery at the Trattoria, of the possibility of a pigeon pie even in Italy! Robert & I were so blasés on the eternal roast chicken, that we both felt inclined to leave off eating altogether, .. and as he began to carry the inclination into practice, I protested, & we resolved to change the dynasty– First we made a desperate irruption (not for the first time!) into what are called the “made dishes” (for good reasons) of Italian cooking! & there arrived, .. at the first glance upon which, what Robert calls my “prejudices” rose up rampant. “Really, Ba, you are so prejudiced! Now this seems as good as possible” … (choosing the least questionable shape!) “Well, dear, I am delighted that you like it .. I only hope it wont poison you”– “Very good indeed!—only rather rich .. here, Flush, you shall have it.”!– And Flush after a great deal of hesitation & meditation with the end of his nose, submitted to be the victim– Poor Flush!– You, Arabel, never could imagine the blacknesses or brownnesses & greynesses, all swimming in oil, which define themselves eatable substances here .. and I never can get over the oil to begin with .. having “prejudices.” So we held a council & wondered whether these Italians who really excel in pastry, could not cover some pigeons with a pastry. Robert went to give his directions, & after a long speech .. “vedete”—said he .. “é una specia di pasticcio” [16] —“una specia di pigeon pie” was the quick answer .. oh, they understood perfectly! A pigeon pie had manifestly a continental reputation!– And never was a better pie than what they sent us .. an immense one too, large enough for two dinners for us three, & at the expense of 2s– 2d .. by which let Minny judge of the cheapness here of the means of life. By the way, Robert showed to me the other day that our six months spending, inclusive of our journey from London, & week at Paris, medecines & everything in the world, had amounted to one hundred & fifty pounds .. and three of us, remember!– Wilson having shared equally in all respects– Also there has been no painful & niggardly œconomy—we have had every comfort. So we are more than at ease as to our future prospects, & feel ourselves free to please ourselves about Venice .. or wherever our next fancy may turn itself. Such planners & dreamers we are—and having shifted plan & dream so very often, I for one, do not trust quite so much as I did to the present plan & dream– If it were not for “the fashion of England” we should yield to the spring-temptation perhaps of the mountain scenery & the chesnut forest, rocks & cataracts of the Baths of Lucca, which must by all description, be quite exquisite .. but the English fashionables, the pink mantillas & gaming houses keep us off—so we shall go there only for a day or two or three, in April perhaps & on the way to Florence. Mrs Jameson leaves Rome on the 10th of April & is very anxious for us to meet & travel with her– We wd willingly do it, only there are difficulties .. we cant give up Florence for instance .. & we have written to ask her to give us tryst there at least.
Impertinent Arabel!—how you made me laugh about my chronological observations, & the more that I had a sort of recollection of having gone still deeper into the subject in my last letter which you had not received in writing this– Was I ever chronological in my life before, I wonder? Perhaps some of it, is Robert’s fault, who began by keeping the ‘anniversary’ of our marriage once a week, & who now, three days in every month as I assure him, says “Another month is gone, Ba.” He is fond of telling me that I have not “the least idea” of the depth of the love he feels for me, & that by the time we have been married “ten years” I may guess at it perhaps .. therefore he wants the weeks & months to go fast. For my part I am too well contented <with> [17] everything as it is—I seem to “guess” quite well enough<.> Otherw<ise I sh>ould be very obtuse .. because no human being could give to another <better> proof of attachment than he does to me every moment of <…>. I am certain that he loves me far better than at the <…> says himself. Between you & me, Arabel, Mrs Jameson <…>lly by her dreary jests about the passing nature <…>tance at Genoa, when he chose to sit by me, instead <…>ts, .. which really was foolish & vexed me … <…>,” in one extreme or another. My dear Browning, you <…> but in a month or two, unfortunately, the reason <…> “Ba said so for nearly two years,” he answered <…> (getting up impatiently!) He never wd contest such points with <…>– Only, afterwards, when with me alone, he declaimed against <…> & bad taste” .. (being fond of using strong words)—but the truth <…> Mrs Jameson has been unhappy in her own experience & in the experience <…> best friends– She has not been used to deal with such natures <as Robe>rt’s .. as who has, not dealing with himself? “The happiest marriages” <she say>s, “end quickly in an affectionate friendship”—“just what one might feel for an old armchair,”! … is his commentary aside to me– “Why if I thought such a thing possible, I never wd have married you, Ba—never– If you live to be eighty & have hair as white as snow, I can only admit of the change of loving you better!! I know I shall love you better then.”—— A great deal too frank I am, in telling you such things, Arabel .. but the position is peculiar & justifies or rather demands that I shd set your dear tender affectionateness at full rest from a full evidence. Not being able to be frank enough before, I am led to be overfrank now– Oh, you understand that! Then I want you to know him, & what he is to me .. & to thank God for me, with “connaissance de cause.”– [18] Write always & every detail– My best love to dearest George & all of them– To my very dear Henrietta, my next letter shall go, & make up, perhaps, for the lack of news in this. I do like to hear of “happy days”—their joy reaches me– How I love you all, .. sometimes I think <…> Be happy, you, my darling Arabel! Where is Emma Monro? Do <…> come & go? I am glad that Papa is relenting into some justice to <…> he might as well be angry with the angel Gabriel. Poor, unfortunate A<nnie Hayes, whether> she thinks so or not! [19] —for degradation is the worst misfortune, & <it is degra>dation to live on with such a wretched man as that. Right or W<rong I would> not do it– I could not. “Divorce” was another extreme: but I <do not> live with him. While I write, a Mrs Young [20] calling herself a friend of Mr Stratton’s, <whose daughter> has married a Professor Matteucci (both settled in Italy) make their way in to me. <They> could not be resisted. Not very charming though!—sensible, & cold! We shd scar<cely lack for> visitors if we were to stay here long– I am gl<ad for> Mr Hunter. Should he first rise to the estate of yo<ur …> my love– Also to dear Mary. I cd write on <… Robert> tells me to say that “he loves you & Henrietta with <…>—& give it to Lizzie Barrett. Your very own Ba.
<…> the same thing happened to another friend of yours on a certain solemn occasion. <…> face & negligent costume produced this natural effect. [21]
Address, on integral page: Angleterre, viâ France. / To the care of Miss Trepsack, / (Miss Arabel Barrett) / 5. Upper Montagu Street, / Montagu Square, / London.
Publication: None traced.
Manuscript: Berg Collection.
1. Dated by EBB’s reference on 8 March to having “not written in this letter for two or three days.” Year provided by postmark.
2. EBB has written and crossed out “the fear of”.
3. Cf. Genesis 31:44–49.
4. An allusion to the dispute between England and France regarding the marriages of Isabella II of Spain and her sister Fernanda; see letter 2655, note 12.
5. Evidently EBB is confused about the number and dates of RB’s Bells and Pomegranates. Luria and A Soul’s Tragedy were published together as the eighth and last of the series in April 1846, which she is counting as two numbers. Prior to that, Dramatic Romances and Lyrics had been published in November 1845.
6. Part of EBB’s income was an annual return from shares in a West Indies packet ship called the David Lyon. She also received dividends from a legacy of £4,000 left to her by her paternal grandmother.
7. This idea for a joint collection of poems on Italy was never realised.
8. Seven poems by EBB were published in the October 1846 issue of Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine (pp. 488–495). For a complete list, see letter 2554, note 6.
9. See Reconstruction, H348.
10. “Nasty Pisa” or “Bad Pisa.”
11. Mr. & Mrs. James Irving (see letter 2630, note 12) had two sons: James (1822–56) and Robert Nasmyth (1827–94). This is doubtless a reference to the elder son, who died aged thirty-three at Leghorn.
12. The Irvings married in 1819, and there is no evidence that he had been married before.
13. Cf. I Corinthians 10:15.
14. Unidentified; however, The Post Office London Directory for 1846 lists John Davis, a dyer, at 91 High Street Marylebone.
15. “You are (both) very good.”
16. “You see,” —said he “it’s a kind of pie.”
17. Final sheet of this letter is badly crumpled; at this point, a large torn area begins.
18. “Full knowledge” or “knowledge of the reason.”
19. From the context, EBB is referring to Annie Hayes’s marital difficulties, which finally resulted in divorce in February 1855.
20. Mary Young (née Ancrum, d. 1867). Her husband, Robert Young, a minister in the Church of Scotland, died four years fter they were married. After his death she adopted Robinia Elizabeth Young (1809–97), daughter of his brother Samuel. Robinia married Carlo Matteucci (1811–68) at All Souls, Marylebone, on 7 September 1846. He was a Professor of Natural Philosophy in the University of Pisa, and later became an Italian senator, and was the source of political information for EBB in 1860 and 1861.
21. This passage appears as a marginal notation on the next-to-last page. Because of the damaged condition of this sheet, we are unable to determine its placement within the context of the letter.
___________________
