3611. EBB to Julia Martin
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 21, 242–244.
13. Dorset Street–
Monday– [3 September 1855] [1]
Day after day, my dearest Mrs Martin, I have been meaning to write to you—always in vain: & now I hear from Mrs Ormus Biddulph that you are not quite well– How is this? Shall I hear soon that you are better? I want something to cheer me up a little. The bull is out of the china-shop, certainly,—but the broken pottery does’nt enjoy itself, much the more for that. I have lost my Arabel (my one light in London) who has had to go away to Eastbourne,—very vexed at it, dear darling, though she really required change of air. We, for our parts, are under promise to follow her in a week—as it will be on our way to Paris, & not cost us many shillings over the expenses of the direct route. But the days drag themselves out; & there remains so much work (on proof sheets &c) to be done here, that I despond of our being able to move as soon as I fain would. I assure you I am stuffed as hard as a cricket-ball with the work of everyday—and I have waited in vain for a clear hour to write quietly & comfortably to you, in order to say how your letter touched me, dear, dear friend– You always understand. Your sympathy stretches beyond points of agreement. Which is so rare, & so precious!——and makes one feel so unspeakably grateful.
When my father bade them all go down to Eastbourne (he himself remaining in London) he very considerately said that if any of them wished to go to Paris afterwards, they might– So I am in a dream about getting Arabel there, & siezing & holding her! Who knows if it might not be winked at, ignored graciously, her being with me.! That’s my dream just now.
Also, Surtees Cook has been very kind, & allows Henrietta & Altham to go to Eastbourne for a week or so to have sight of me. It will be great pleasure if we can compass it–
But I have had a more depressing visit to England than usual, notwithstanding even this.
Dearest Mrs Martin, you made me feel glad that you should approve anyhow of Alfred’s marriage. I approve generally, you know, of marriages, and I dont pretend to have been very averse on this occasion– Still, there are drawbacks. I would have preferred any degree of poverty, for instance, to debts—& we have all feared that his creditors might have used the liberty of very hard thoughts against him, for marrying under his circumstances. George is a good deal annoyed by this apprehension– Still, two may save & pay, as well as one—& better than some “ones.” What I myself feel, therefore, as the greatest of the objections, is .. the family malady—mother & mother’s sister both in madhouses! [2] —it’s a terror, if not an actual affliction, for poor Alfred’s life. Still (again) this is not a consideration which would stop a man who loved, from loving .. or from marrying, let us be just & acknowledge– Of course I wrote at once as kind a letter as I could to the bridal party—to whom Marseilles appears like the new Jerusalem, [3] for glory & happiness– She is very pretty. Have you ever seen her?–
London has emptied itself, as you may suppose, by this time– Mrs Ormus Biddulph was so kind as to wish us to dine with them on monday (today)—but we found it absolutely impossible. The few engagements we make we dont keep, & I shall try for the future to avoid perjury– As it is, I have no doubt that various people have set me down as “full of arrogance & assumption”: [4] —at which the gods must laugh—for really, if truths could be known, I feel even morbidly humble just now, & could show my sackcloth with anybody’s sackcloth– But it is difficult to keep to the conventions rigidly, & return visits to the hour, & hold engagements to the minute, when one has neither carriage, nor legs, nor time at one’s disposal, which is my case. If I dont at once answer (for instance) such a letter as you sent me, I must be a beggar–
A comfort is, to hear that poor papa is looking wonderfully well– Everybody is in admiration of his good looks—& my cousin Arlette Reynolds could only satisfactorily account for them the other day by the observation that he had taken to wear whiskers. “He looks so very much younger,” says she. I am afraid there is not much change otherwise—not to me, I mean.
May God bless you both, my very dear friends– My husband bids me remember him to you in cordial regard[.] I long to see you—& to hear (first) that you are well–
Dearest Mrs Martin’s ever attached
Ba–
Publication: LEBB, II, 211–212 (in part, as [August–September 1855]).
Manuscript: Wellesley College.
1. Date provided by EBB’s reference to Arabel’s departure for Eastbourne, which occurred on Thursday, 30 August 1855.
2. Elizabeth Jane Barrett (née Turner, 1800–86), who became mentally incapacitated following the birth of her daughter Lizzie, had three sisters: Sarah Ryves (née Turner, 1803–77), with whom Lizzie had stayed the previous year in Dublin, Frances Turner (b. 1804), and Ann MacDonald (née Turner, b. 1807). We have been unable to establish that any of the three had been institutionalized. The most likely would appear to have been Frances, the only unmarried sister, who resided at Brighton with their brother James (b. 1813), a physician.
3. Cf. Revelation 21:2.
4. Perhaps EBB has in mind the following passage from William Godwin, Fleetwood: Or, the New Man of Feeling (1805): “She did impudent things without assumption and arrogance; and what in another would have been beyond endurance, seemed in her an emanation of the purest artlessness and innocence” (chapter VI, p. 132).
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