2923. EBB to Arabella Moulton-Barrett
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 17, 52–54.
Lucerne.
June 26– [1851] [1]
My ever dearest Arabel, here we are on your side of the Alps! We arrived the evening before last, into the heart of the divinest scenery in the world, I should really think, and in the hope of being able to loiter out some of the heat of the summer in Switzerland, for Wiedeman’s sake as well as our own. Letters meet us here however, with desperately bad news as to the state of our finances. Only fifty pounds from the ship, tell Henry! Twenty pounds less than the badness of last year!– We have, accordingly, just eighty pounds to spend in the next six months!——. It is very bad, you see—and with Robert’s anxious temper which has vexed him terribly throughout this journey, there is nothing to do but to give up lakes & mountains & make the shortest & cheapest of journies into Paris. He is constantly regretting having ever left Florence & upbraiding himself for the commission of the greatest of imprudences– Well– There’s no use groaning– I tell him that I have twice the share of artistic temperament that he has– It’s impossible to fret me about money-matters. If we cant live on bread & cheese, we must live on bread alone .. and that’s better than cheese alone, is’nt it?
Observe, we have done everything with the utmost œconomy, consistently with the journey through the north of Italy. The way by Marseilles would have cost a fourth of the expense—but as we did not see Rome we thought we ought to see Venice & Milan. We had an exquisite journey through Brescia to Milan, stayed there two or three days, went to Como, took the steamer down the lake to Cadenabbia opposite Bellaggio, .. then, from Menaggio, took a carriage to Porlezza, & a boat across the lake Lugano to Lugano .. slept, & proceeded the next morning to Bellinzona .. left Wilson & Wiedeman there a day & steamed down to Lago Maggiore & back––crossed the St. Goathard, & dropped into this most beautiful of all the lakes at Fluellen whence we reached Lucerne by steamer, with just ten francs .. Robert in a horrible fright all the way—he lets his imagination master him, indeed– Here letters meet us with money—so good! but with the deplorable financial news I told you of before—& so, very bad, certainly. Yet no long journey was ever more œconomically managed. In six weeks we have spent but fifty pounds—and fifty pounds for two months used to be our allowance at Florence when we stayed still at home– I dare say you wonder how we manage to be no more at our ease after Mr Kenyon’s generosity, but the reduction of income is immense this year—we have not, you see, much more than two hundred a year, apart from Mr Kenyon’s gift. [2] Then we had to pay some thirty pounds at Florence in leaving it .. twenty for the house, & ten for certain refreshments of our furniture– That will all be more than repaid us, I am confident .. but Robert is despondent now about house-letting as well as everything else in the world .. &, for the present, of course, we have nothing from it. Well, you observe .. what a tug such a long journey on such a short income must be. Its a vexation to leave the lakes & mountains .. (oh, so glorious, Arabel!) only you will understand how it is possible that Robert should be in a high fever of anxiety. When we get to Paris, we shall do very well– We shall know how to accommodate our situation to our means. We go to Bäle tomorrow morning by diligence, & so slide into the railroads & Rhine-road, via Strasburg, & I hope some day to come back & explore these Righis [3] & shining waters.
And to rise up out of the warm lap of Italy, from the blue lakes, & chesnut-covered hills & gorgeous sunshine, into that sublime of cold desolation .. you cannot realize the sensation. Como is exquisite, & Lugano still more beautiful– The drive from Lugano to Bellinzona is like a dream of mountains & waters & chesnut forests rather than the thing itself. And when I have said that, think what Lucerne must be, to exceed all.
Arabel—Milan cathedral is worthy (almost) to look towards the Alps– I climbed up three hundred & fifty steps to the topmost pinacle—— Imagine that! It overtired me, but I was resolute to do it—
Now, says Robert, I must go—I must’nt even mention Wiedeman, & tell you … no, I cant. He is well, however, & has travelled like an angel using his wings– I have been dreaming of dearest Trippy– How is she? Write to me at Paris. Poste Restante– God bless you my beloved– Tell Henrietta this.
A moment more– Wilson is quite well again– I never heard a word of my book till we reached Lucerne, when Sarianna’s letter apprises us of the favorable critiques. Was the Athenæum’s really good? [4] Next year, we shall be too rich again–
Wiedeman travelled (I must tell you) sixteen consecutive hours & all night, to Milan from Verona– Good .. perfect .. enjoying everything. Think of that child laughing & taking soup at half past twelve at night at Brescia .. amused at the situation! I had actually dropped down on the stairs with fatigue .. quite fainting .. but he, when asked if he would’nt go to bed, answered “no, no Papa, Mamma cavalli.”—he would go with Papa & Mama & the horses. Certainly he slept very well all night .. only there was fatigue enough, & heat & dust enough to try him. He pretends to admire the mountains exceedingly, & I believe, does admire them .. though Wilson & Robert will have it that it’s half affectation & because he sees that we admire them. He throws out his arms & says “Due, due”– The colour has come to his darling cheeks so since we arrived here, that it makes me regret more our not being able to stay– The milk & air of Switzerland wd have braced & nourished him.
Why, how cold you are, Arabel, at this side the Alps– Robert & I quite shiver through the evenings– At dear Florence they must be broiling comfortably just now–
Write to me at Paris. Do you feel how near we are. My heart beats at the thought. Love to all–
Wiedeman cant bear the German here– Poor unfortunate child—he has fallen into Babylon. I dare say he thinks it a hideous language, which really it is– He shakes his head at the chambermaid & says ‘no, no.’ But there’s a waiter who speaks Italian & has made fast friends with him .. & he receives a great deal of attention & admiration from everybody. People call him interesting, & wonder at his not being cross like other travelling children–
Address, on integral page: Care of Miss Tripsack / (Miss Barrett) / 26. Welbeck Street / Cavendish Square / London.
Publication: EBB-AB, I, 388–390.
Manuscript: Berg Collection.
1. Year provided by postmark.
3. A group of mountain peaks north of Lake Lucerne in Switzerland. Bâle, or Basel, lies just to the northwest of the Rigi, near the French and German borders.
4. In a generally positive notice of Casa Guidi Windows that appeared in The Athenæum for 7 June 1851 (no. 1232, pp. 597–598), John Westland Marston observed that EBB’s “book is at once courageous and wise. … She has perceived by foresight what Posterity discovers through retrospect.” Marston is given as the reviewer in the marked file copy of The Athenæum now at City University (London). For the full text of this review, see pp. 306–309.
___________________
