3556. EBB to Arabella Moulton-Barrett
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 21, 169–175.
Florence.
Monday. June 11. [1855] [1]
My ever beloved Arabel
Now by this time you are vexed with me for not thinking of you! Instead of which I have been thinking of you more than usual, day & night. For your last letter was altogether a letter of discomfort, & left me uneasy about papa—to say nothing of the open question about whether we may not go from Italy to England on purpose to see you & fail after all. As to papa—I should have written instantly to beg for an answer, if it had not been for the uncertainty about being here to receive it. Now, darling Arabel, do write to me to Paris at once .. Avenue Champs Elysées, 138, [2] & tell me particularly of him. I hate to hear of the swelling in the hands .. even though it comes, as you say, from the crutches—it makes me wretched to think of it– And the rheumatic pain I dont like– And now if he gives up the walking, it will be all the worse for his general health. Dearest, do tell me whatever more cheering thing you can, for I turn into the shadow, turning that way–
Now, you will like to hear– We leave Florence probably next wednesday .. by the Bastia boat to Marseilles, Isa Blagden & Louisa accompanying us as far as Paris. We must stay a week at least at Paris, you see, because of poor Mr Browning who will be very much cast down at having to lose us so soon, even at latest. Sarianna is to go with us to London. So you will have to get an extra-bedroom for her–
I am the more reconciled to leaving this dear Florence just now, as the cholera is here [3] —& there was a case in our street this morning. You know how little brave I am about such things. Still, it’s horrible to have to go north—oh, if I could but pull you here & nail you down, catch you in vines & net you, I never would stir, for one! I dread England, & the moral & atmospheric cold of it—and then this last year at Florence has been particularly happy as far as our intimate home-life is concerned, & I want no change except the change of seeing your faces .. all of you–
It will be deplorable if you go & leave us in London! Observe, Arabel, your weather has been so wintry by all accounts, (snow at Bexley [4] on the second of June!) that if I had gone sooner I should have been ill—moreover, if we had been in Paris, Robert would have shut me up in a room & left me there—so that nothing has been lost by lingering a little among the fireflies & nightingales. Now, it’s very hot—& we shall like to breathe a cooler air—that will be a decided improvement certainly. Only .. take note of this—I am not going to stay in London among the solaces you mention of authors & mediums .. no, not even of mediums, Arabel, .. if you go away & leave me. Oh—it will be so very hard! But if it’s necessary for dearest papa– What can I say?–
Darling Arabel .. talking of mediums … I told you Robert was convinced by Mr Jerves’s letter– So he was for three days– After that time he began to relapse into unbelief– Belief is the strangest thing, & Swedenborg is perfectly right about it that the “will” or “love” enters into it much [5] —which is seen constantly in the mode of receiving the gospel– Now Robert holds to his previous proposition .. he will see for himself, & if he sees, believe. I was disappointed at first .. but he promises to see for himself.
Well—but what I wanted to tell you was this .. though you too will insist on seeing for yourself. Mr Jerves has written twice since the letter I told you of, and, all Florence having been turned up from its foundations in consequence, Mrs Trollope & her son have set off to London expressly in order to investigate—they mean to remain in London only a few days. It is quite rational in Mrs Trollope, inasmuch as she is in a state of profound scepticism as to a future prospect for man of any kind, & is willing to catch at a means which has led many to happy conclusions. For Hume has been the means of the conversion of two hundred infidels .. some of whom in a fervour of gratitude have pressed offers of money upon him which he has refused. As to his accepting fees during this visit to Europe, .. as Paul & his brethren thought it lawful to “live by the altar,” [6] Mr Hume need not be more proud. He is poor observe, & could not remain in Europe without covering his expenses so.
Mr Jerves saw more wonderful things afterwards than those I mentioned to you. He slept with Hume—the bed .. a four-posted heavy bed .. was lifted up bodily .. in a floating balloon-like motion—towards the centre of the room. The spirits walked about—the footsteps distinct, with an electrical crackling sound– Everything Mr Jerves asked to be done, was done instantly .. except when he asked for a proofsheet to be brought to him out of the sitting-room. The spirits said they would try .. but they failed, on account of Hume’s influence not extending so far as that other room–– Then there was a wonderful sêance in Mr Jerves’s own lodgings– I think I told you that at first he did not see the outline of the spiritual hands as distinctly as Mr Lytton & the other persons present did .. only as something white & floating, playing about him. Subsequently however & especially on this occasion, he saw these spiritual hands as clearly as he saw his own hand– A bell, a hand-bell, was lifted up in the air, & the hand was seen distinctly holding it. Mr Jerves asked to see the hand of his aunt with whom he had had intercourse—and immediately the most exquisitely beautiful hand, fair & transparent was lifted up in the sight of all & in a full light—everybody seeing it equally. Mr Jarves asked if he might touch it:—permission was given & he touched & clasped it—& it turned upon him & patted him tenderly. Then .. he desired to see a head. Now mark. Scarcely had he spoken—when a complete figure .. head, shoulders & body dimly outlined, rose up by the side of Mr Lytton & crossed over to Mr Jerves’s side– The features of the face were undistinguishable. All was dim .. but the Shape demonstrated it’s full life by taking up things from the table & holding them up .. papers were held up so– You cant think how this has struck me. Think of the undistinguishable features– “A spirit passed before my face, & I discerned not the form thereof” [7] .. Mr Tennyson & I keep quoting from Job. Mr Beckwith [8] whom the Americans call their Voltaire .. a very clever materialist .. came over from Paris on purpose to see Hume .. & went away perfectly convinced. How can people resist such sights? Mr Jerves says that the Countess of Hastings [9] had him at her house, .. & that, there, three musical instruments were played upon in harmony without mortal interposition—of course Lady Hastings was entirely convinced.– Oh—but I forgot one thing– When the spirit had manifested himself at full length, Mr Jerves .. who seems to have been daring enough in the matter .. asked if he might lay his hand on the head– Which he actually did, on receiving permission (these spirits are most gentle & gracious, if not always very wise) & felt beneath his hand “something soft & springy.” I quote his words–
I cant help writing these things to you .. though in the horrible bustle of these last days. All our poor books taken from the gaping bookcase! How miserable!
Mr Tennyson is a little shaken in his opinion about the ‘manifestations’ being purely diabolical. In fact the character is strictly human & benevolent. There is access to the spiritual world, & as a consequence both the good & evil will come. It’s irrational to suppose that exclusively either the good or the evil come. Both must come–
Dearest Arabel, how very, very sad about dear Maddox– The idea of her quite haunted me for long—& now I am afraid from what you say of her illness, that it may be worse still. But why worse! We use such poor words.
So I shall miss Bummy– Nay, I may miss you, perhaps! Write, I do entreat of you to Paris– Mind—138, Avenue Champs Elysées.
I shall miss Alfred at Marseilles too– We get there in the middle of the night, & travelling with Isa Blagden, to whose invalid, Ferdinando will be of use, we shall probably push on at once to sleep at Avignon two hours after landing.
You are right about the marriage as far as I am concerned—it’s a shake to the security of my comfort. Still, ought one to be so selfish? Wilson’s family are entirely wrong in undervaluing Ferdinando– He is excellent & will be an admirable husband– I have not a fear for her– As to his being a catholic, why he is no more a catholic than I am– He has conformed for fear of getting into trouble .. which is not heroic of course .. but you dont know what it is to be tied to the crushing wheel of the law here, & it is easy for persons in safety, to moralize on what the person under the wheel should do & say. When he is once safely married, he means “never to go to confession again”.
Just while I write, in comes Penini with a ring in a little box .. “Do loot, mama, what that dear Ferdinando is doing to dive to Lily—he’s doing to mally her with lis ling.” “What,” said I, “will you let him?” For Penini is much opposed to all this marrying .. & has bid them be silent about it, & “not mate him sick.” “Well”—he answered me .. “I dont lite it much—but I’ll let him! He says he leally must mally her.”
We mean if we can to have it all ended in Paris– Poor Wilson is very happy. And if I’m not the same, I suppose it’s because I am human & amiable, & thinking rather of myself than of her. If they could be sure to be able to live on with us it wd be different—but all chances are against us of course. In the meanwhile she insists that Penini must be “always first”– Ah—no, no, no, no–
I am writing as fast as a racer– Mention Maddox when you write. How distressed dear Minny must be. Best love to Minny.
As to Mary Hunter .. it could not be otherwise. Those churches have spirits, [10] I am confident—and to persons of unfixed principles on certain points, the influx is irresistible. My only surprise is that she did not join them long & long ago– What could Mr Hunter expect? After all, the degree of error is not, to my mind, dangerous– Their belief is scriptural in many respects—in others, I think, absurd & hard. The alternative is not between the infallible “Spirit of God,” and Satan’s own– There are spirits of good intentions but imperfect knowledge who utter themselves in those churches. So, as to dear Mary, I am sorry, but not in despair [11] by any manner of means—still less am I at all angry. But it must be very painful to her father—I can quite conceive of that.
Did you ever see such a scratch as this letter—scratched, scribbled, miswritten.
But you will be glad .. wont you, my own dearest dearest Arabel, that we are coming. Do be glad–—
June 12. Now you will be surprised to hear something. We have just been to the British Embassy to see dear Wilson married. She is married—that is, according to the ch. of England. [12] The catholic form will be gone through in Paris. We were not sure how it might be best, & it was suddenly arranged at last. An English clergyman performed the ceremony half in English & half in Italian, & Robert & I & Penini were witnesses—Peni giving his signature in full to the admiration of the clergyman. Dear Wilson behaved very well, & Ferdinando was brilliant with happiness. Robert wished that they might be as happy in the end as we were! As she helped me, it was but fair you know, that I shd help her. She only deserved it of me–
It’s to be considered no marriage, you understand, till after the Catholic ceremony—& we keep it secret for fear of the priests, who might get Ferdinando stopped from leaving Tuscany, & so produce a tragedy. Penini said this morning to the balia with the most important air .. “Promettetemi di non parlare di questo.” [13] He has made a bargain with Wilson, to make Ferdinando do everything for the future that he Penini pleases! Madme Romagnoli!!! We mean to call her Lisa for the future .. which is her name among the Italians. Besides ourselves, Marian, [14] Isa Blagden’s maid was present. Nobody else. May God bless you all prays
your own Ba.
We sail tomorrow at five p.m. shall probably arrive at Marseilles early on friday morning—from whence it is only eighteen hours to Paris. But I must sleep on the road really. So when you get this letter we shall be close to you, if it pleases God.
Address: Angleterre viâ France / Miss Barrett / 50. Wimpole Street / London.
Publication: EBB-AB, II, 148–153.
Manuscript: Gordon E. Moulton-Barrett.
1. Year provided by postmark.
2. Underscored twice.
3. In her journal entry for 16 June 1855, Mrs. Kinney recorded the death of her servant, Donato, the preceding day, and added that “the cholera is prevailing now at Florence & very fatal. God preserve the rest of us! All our trust is in Him” (ms at Columbia). The Kinneys lived in Casa del Bello, via della Fornace (now Via dei Serragli), a short distance from Casa Guidi.
4. The town of Bexley in Kent is about 14 miles S.E. of London. We have been unable to trace any newspaper accounts for that area at the time EBB suggests. Weather reports in The Times for this period indicate temperatures below normal around London but not “wintry.”
5. In A Treatise Concerning Heaven and Hell (Baltimore, 1812), Emanuel Swedenborg writes: “Now whether we say the love or will of a man, or the faith or thought of a man, it amounts to the same, for what he loves, that he wills; and what he believes, that he thinks; and if he loves what he believes, then he wills and does it according to his power” (section 473, p. 372). Swedenborg states further: “What is called faith, separated from love, has no reality of faith in it, but is only a notional thing void of all spiritual life” (section 474, p. 373).
6. Cf. I Corinthians 9:13.
7. Cf. Job 4:15–16.
8. Probably Nelson Marvin Beckwith (1807–89), a New York merchant, temporarily retired since 1852 and living in Europe. He was a friend and correspondent of Tocqueville, who “praised his ‘penetrating and original mind’” (Jennifer Pitts, “Democracy and Domination,” Tocqueville and the Frontier Democracy, ed. Ewa Atanassow and Richard Boyd, Cambridge, 2013, p. 254). From 1857 to 1860, Beckwith was in Hong Kong as a managing partner in the mercantile firm of Russell & Co. He returned to Paris in 1861 and later, during the “Paris Exposition of 1867 … served as Commissioner General for the United States and won the high regard of Napoleon III., who bestowed upon him the Cross of the Legion of Honor” (America’s Successful Men of Affairs: An Encyclopedia of Contemporaneous Biography, ed. Henry Hall, 2 vols., New York, 1895–96, I, 70).
9. Barbara, Baroness Grey de Ruthyn (1810–58), only daughter and heir of Henry Edward, 19th Baron Grey de Ruthyn, and his wife Anna Maria Kelham, had married George Augustus Francis Hastings, the 2nd Marquess of Hastings (1808–44) in 1831; in 1845 she married secondly Admiral Sir Hastings Reginald Henry Yelverton (1808–78). She was an avid collector of fossils and wrote on geological subjects. In his comments on Home’s association with the Baroness, Patrick Waddington refers to the contents of this letter and also notes that on 15 May 1855 “she attended a séance at Cox’s Hotel” (in Jermyn Street, St. James’s, where Home had been staying) “and, in a letter written … four days later, declared herself ‘surprised and startled’ by what she had experienced. … She also attended at least one séance of his at Ealing” (Waddington, p. 112).
10. i.e., the Newman Street churches; see letter 3539, note 13.
11. Cf. II Corinthians 4:8.
12. On 11 June, Ferdinando had received a declaration from the Archbishop of Florence pronouncing him free to marry. The following day he and Wilson were married at the British Legation in Florence by Henry John Huntington (1821–87), the English chaplain at Leghorn. The “Declaration of Marital Status” and the “Official Entry of the Marriage” are reproduced facing pp. 176 and 177, respectively.
13. “Promise me that you won’t speak about this.”
14. Maryann Martin.
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