3595. EBB to Anna Brownell Jameson
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 21, 221–224.
13. Dorset Street
Tuesday. [7 August 1855] [1]
My dearest Moña Nina,
I write to you in the midst of so much fatigue & unsatisfactory turmoil, that I feel I shall scarcely be articulate in what I say– Still, it must be tried, for I cant have you think that I have come to London to forget you .. much less, to be callous to the influence of this dear affectionate letter of yours– May God bless you! How sorry I am that you should have vexation on the top of more serious hurts, to depress you!– Indeed if it were not for the other side of the tapestry, it would seem not at all worth while for us to stand putting in more weary Gobelin stitches (till we turn into goblins) day after day, year after year, in this sad world. For my part, I am ready at melancholy with anybody– The air, mentally or physically considered, is very heavy for me here, & I long for the quiet of my Florence, where somehow it always has gone best with my life. As to England, it affects me so, in body, soul, & circumstances, that if I could not get away soon, I should be provoked, I think, into turning monster & hating the whole island,—which shocks you so to hear, that you will be provoked into not loving me perhaps! .. & that would really be too hard, after all.
The best news I can give you is, that Robert has printed the first half volume of his poems, & that the work looks better than ever in print, as all true work does, brought into the light. He has read these proofs to Mr Fox (of Oldham)—who gives an opinion that the poems are at the top of art, in their kind. I dont know whether you care for Mr Fox’s opinion, but it’s worth more than mine of course, on the ground of impartiality, to say no otherwise—& it will disappoint me much if you dont confirm both of us, presently. The poems, for variety, vitality & intensity, are quite worthy of the writer, it seems to me, and a clear advance in certain respects, on his previous productions.
Has ‘Maud’ penetrated to you? The winding up is magnificent—full of power—and there are beautiful thrilling bits before you get so far. Still there is an appearance of labour in the early part—the language is rather encrusted by skill, than spontaneously blossoming, & the rhythm is not always happy. The poet seems to aim at more breadth & freedom, which he attains, but at the expense of his characteristic delicious music. People in general appear very unfavorably impressed by this poem .. very unjustly, Robert & I think. [2] On some points, it is even an advance. The sale is great—nearly four thousand copies already. [3]
Let me see what London news I have to tell you– We spent an evening with Mr Ruskin who was gracious, & generous, & strengthened all my good impressions. Robert took our friend young Leighton to see him afterwards, & was as kindly received. [4] We met Carlyle at Mr Forster’s, & found him in great force .. particularly in the damnatory clauses. [5] Mr Kinglake we saw twice at the Procters, and once here—& I liked him better the first time of meeting, than afterwards. I fancied then that he was sensitive & shy, & now I seem to see that he is only reserved & cold enough—for taking observations & making sarcasms– He wears a spiritual mackintosh, & throws off my small rain .. despising it. Also, he strikes me as a man who has rubbed himself hard against the world, through some petty cutaneous chronic irritation of the senses .. & that kind of man is not sympathetical to me– I may mistake him perhaps—one mistakes so very often—and I speak in a whisper & only to you, what is said here. The Procters are very well– How I like Adelaide’s face! That’s a face worth a drove of beauties! Dear Mrs Sartoris has just left London I grieve to say—& so has Mrs Kemble, who (let me say it quick in a parenthesis) is looking quite magnificent just now, with those gorgeous eyes of her’s– Mr Kenyon too has vanished .. gone with his brother to the isle of Wight. The weather has been very uncertain, cloudy, misty, & rainy, with heavy air, ever since we came– Ferdinando keeps saying “Povera gente, che deve vivere in questo posto” [6] .. & Penini catches it up & gives himself immense airs, discoursing about Florentine skies & the glories of the Cascine to anyone who will listen. The child is well, thank God, & in great spirits .. which is my comfort. I found my dear sister Arabel too, well .. & it is deep yet sad joy to me to look in her precious loving eyes .. which never failed me, nor could. Henrietta will be hindered perhaps from coming to see me by want of means, .. poor darling—& the same cause will keep me from going to Taunton. We have a quantity of invitations to go into the country .. to the Custs, to the Martins &c &c .. & (one which rather tempts me) .. to Knebworth, Sir Edward Lytton having written us the kindest of possible invitations: but none of these things are for us, I see.
Dearest friend, I do hope you wont go to Rome this winter. When you have been to Vienna, come back & let us have you in Paris. I am glad Lady Elgin likes the book. The history of it was, that she asked Robert to get it for her .. & he presented it instead.
Our M. Milsand likes you much, he says, & I like you to hear it.
My brother Alfred was married the other day at the Paris embassy to our cousin Lizzie Barrett—which makes a third exile from the paternal house. [7] I was sorry for this marriage myself for certain reasons. You know, the course of true love runs particularly rough in my family. [8]
Oh—we read your graceful spirited letter in the Athenæum. [9] By the way, did you see the absurd exposition of “Maud” as an allegory? [10] What pure madness .. instead of Maud-ness!
Robert wd write as you bid him, but he is out, & I dare not delay another post lest I should lose you in Paris– May God bless you, dear dear friend– Be well!—try to be happy, which is harder still—& write to me, mind.
Your ever attached Ba–
Address: aux soins de / Madame Mohl / (pour Madme Jameson) / Rue du Bac– 120. / Paris.
Publication: LEBB, II, 208–211 (in part, as [July–August 1855]).
Manuscript: Armstrong Browning Library and Wellesley College.
1. The envelope of this letter bears a Paris postmark of 10 August 1855; the preceding Tuesday was the 7th.
2. In a letter to Emily Tennyson, Maud’s publisher Edward Moxon reported that he had sent the Brownings “an early copy” and that RB thought it was “a great Poem” (SD1840).
3. Despite consistently negative reviews, “in little more than two months” of its publication 8,000 copies of Maud were sold (Robert Bernard Martin, Tennyson: The Unquiet Heart, Oxford, 1980, p. 391).
4. Ruskin gave RB and Leighton lunch at Denmark Hill on 3 August (see SD1844).
5. An allusion to the opening and closing sections of the Athanasian Creed, which promise damnation to those who do not “hold the Catholic faith.”
6. “Poor people, who have to live in this place.”
7. On 17 August 1855, seventeen days after Alfred’s marriage to Lizzie, Edward Moulton-Barrett signed and had witnessed a codicil to his Will of 14 April 1851, in which he states: “I hereby revoke and make void the said several directions and bequests so far as regards the interest to be taken thereunder by my son Alfred Price Barrett in my said Will” (ms at PRO).
8. Cf. A Midsummer Night’s Dream, I, 1, 134.
9. The issue of 28 July 1855 (no. 1448, p. 875), dated “Paris, 21 July.” It was a response to a letter in the 14 July issue (no. 1446, p. 819) that placed the Italian actress Adelaide Ristori in a bad light. Mrs. Jameson defended her.
10. A review of Tennyson’s Maud in the 4 August 1855 issue of The Athenæum, begins: “‘Maud’ is a mystery—a parable—an allegory” (no. 1449, p. 893). The reviewer is given as William Hepworth Dixon in the marked file copy of The Athenæum now at City University (London).
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