2969. EBB to Anna Brownell Jameson
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 17, 147–149.
138. Avenue des Champs Elysèes.
October 21. [1851] [1]
But did’nt you, dearest friend, get “Casa Guidi” & the portrait of Madme de Goethe, left for you in the London house? I felt a want of leaving a word of adieu with these, and then the chaotic confusion in which we left England stifled the better purpose out of me.
With such mixed feelings I went away. Leaving love behind is always terrible, but it was not all love that I left, and there was relief in the state of mind with which I threw myself on the sofa at Dieppe,—yes indeed. Robert felt differently from me for once, as was natural, for it had been pure joy to him with his family & his friends, & I do believe he would have been capable of never leaving England again, had such an arrangement been practicable for us on some accounts. Oh, England!—I love & hate it at once!– Or rather, where love of country ought to be in the heart, there is the mark of the burning iron in mine, and the depth of the scar shows the depth of the root of it. Well– I am writing you an amusing letter today, I think. After all, I was’nt made to live in England, or I should not cough there perpetually,—while no sooner do I get to Paris than the cough vanishes—it is all but gone now. The lightness of the air here makes the place tenable, so far at least. We made many an effort to get an apartment near the Madeleine, but we had to sacrifice sun or money, or breath, in going up to the top of a house—and the sacrifice seemed too great upon consideration, and we came off to the “Avenue des Champs Elysèes,” on the sunshiney side of the way, a southern aspect, and pretty cheerful, carpeted rooms—a drawing room, a dressing & writing room for Robert, a small dining room, two comfortable bedrooms & a third bedroom up stairs for the femme de service,—kitchen &c—for two hundred francs a month. Not too dear, we think. About the same that we paid, out of the season in London, for the miserable accom[m]odation we had there. But perhaps you wont come near us, now: we may be too much “out of the way” for you. Is it so indeed? Understand that close by is a stand of coupès & fiacres, not to profane your ears with the mention of the continual stream of omnibuses by means of which you may reach the other end of Paris for six sous. And there might be a possibility of taking a small apartment for you in this very house–. See how I castle-build!–
But if the chrystal palace vanishes from the face of the earth, who shall trust any more in castles? Will they really pull it down, do you think? If its a bubble, it’s a glass bubble, & not meant therefore for bursting in the air, it seems to me. And you do want a place in England for sculpture, & also to show people how olives grow– What a beautiful winter-garden it would be!—— But they will pull it down, perhaps, & then, the last we shall have seen of it will be in this description of your letter,—and that’s seeing it worthily too.
We were from home last night– We went to Lady Elgin’s reception, & met a Madme Mohl [2] who was entertaining, & is to come to us this morning......
She came as I wrote those words. She knows you, among her other advantages, & we have been talking of you, dear friend—and we are going to her on friday evening to see some of the French. I shall have to go to prison very soon, I suppose, as usual, for the winter months,—for here is the twenty first of October, tho’ this is the first fire we have had occasion for—it was colder this morning, but we have had exquisite weather really, ever since we left England.
The “elf” is flourishing in all good fairyhood, with a scarlet rose-leaf on each cheek. Wilson says she never knew him to have such an irreproachable appetite. He is charmed with Paris & its magnificent Punches, & Roundabouts, & balloons .. which last, he says,—looking up after them gravely, .. “go to God.” The child has curious ideas about theology already. He is of opinion that God “lives among the birds.” He has taken to calling himself “Peninni,” which sounds something like a fairy’s name, though he means it for ‘Wiedeman’.
Robert is in good spirits & inclined to like Paris increasingly. Do you know I think you have an idea in England, that you monopolize comforts—and I for one, cant admit it. These snug ‘apartments,’ exclude the draughty passages & staircases, which threaten your life everytime that you run to your bedroom for a pockethandkerchief in England. I much prefer the continental houses to the English ones, both for winter & summer, on this account.
So glad I am that you are nearly at the end of your work. [3] To rest after work, what more than rest that always is!
Write to us often—do. We are not in Italy, & you have no excuse for even seeming to forget us. We are full in sight, still, remember.
Are you aware that Carlyle travelled with us to Paris? He left a deep impression with me. It is difficult to conceive of a more interesting human soul, I think. All the bitterness, is love with the point reversed. He seems to me to have a profound sensibility, so profound & turbulent that it unsettles his general sympathies. Do you guess what I mean the least in the world? or is it as dark as my writings are of course?
I hope on every account you will have no increase of domestic care. How is Miss Procter? [4] How kind everybody was to us in England! and how affectionately we remember it! God bless you, yourself. We love you for the past & the present, besides the future in December.
Your attached
EBB–
Publication: LEBB, II, 22–25.
Manuscript: Wellesley College.
1. Year provided by EBB’s reference to travelling with Carlyle.
2. Mary Elizabeth Mohl (née Clarke, 1793–1883) was an Englishwoman who married Jules Mohl (1800–76), a French orientalist of German birth, in August 1847; she had lived in Paris since 1814.
3. Legends of the Madonna (1852).
4. Adelaide Anne Procter (1825–64), daughter of Bryan Waller Procter and Anne Benson Procter (née Skepper), was a poet and women’s rights activist.
___________________
