3672. EBB to Arabella Moulton-Barrett
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 21, 337–341.
102 Rue de Grenelle. Faubourg St Germain
October 31. [1855] [1]
My beloved Arabel, as the wind sets in with you towards wrath & indignation, I had better look to my steps of course, & write dutifully & quickly. Then it is but fair that I should’nt let you spend too much good pity upon us when we dont exactly want it. So I write to say that our Baroness has behaved well at last. Robert went to offer her above three hundred francs paid down to allow us to go .. she refused magnanimously,—on the ground that that would be more than justice—and she cancelled the agreement for six months on condition that we should pay for two months two hundred & fifty (instead of two hundred) a month, .. either occupying ourselves, or subletting at whatever price we pleased. So we exonerate her at once– In fact she made worse terms for herself than we have offered all along. But here we remain .. though we might easily sublet any day, .. because we want to look about us & do the best for ourselves. I am a little uneasy, though, because of the advance of the season– I should like to be warmly housed before the winter sets in, & I have some fears about my poor chest (in which I dont keep my treasure!) a little irritable for some time past– Well—I shall be prudent, & not go out too much,—and all will end well, we must hope.
Ah—Arabel– Is it possible that one hope is over & gone. No, never can I express to you the extent of my vexation at your determination not to ask about Paris. I dont agree with you, observe, the least in the world. If papa had not himself proposed the going to Paris, it would have been altogether different: but, as it is, he is just as likely to be displeased with you for seeming to care nothing about profiting by his suggestion, as not—very likely indeed to say, “They never accept my suggestions– I wanted Arabel to go to the north last year– I proposed Paris this year– That’s enough for her, to refuse in each case.” Of course my dear dearest Arabel I wont teaze you about it– You know best. And I know how hard it is to make an effort & speak– Still it seems a miserable pity that with such an opportunity open to us all, you should miss Paris and I should miss you, & I cant resign myself to it quietly—how can I?
Robert has ordered a copy of his book to be sent to you—so remember that you have it after the tenth. [2] We have had a very kind letter from Mr Ruskin already—I have .. and he speaks to me of the impression made on him by Robert’s conversation—he “never heard lightning-talk before .. so much rapidity & brilliancy of allusion” &c &c. By the way, you Arabel, have’nt heard Robert talk his best– In fact you had the worst of him in many respects last summer, & that was one of the things which vexed me most.
We are lying here like snakes in a hole—as Penini said yesterday—“my two dear little snakes that bite for love.” (what the child meant, Heaven knows). We wont let anybody know where we are till we get fairly out of prison. Robert however, in looking for apartments, fell upon Mr Lytton, & so upon Sir Edward who is spending some days in Paris, and the two came & gave us a whole long evening last friday– I like Sir Edward much better than I thought I should, though the whole tone of the man is less deep less sweet, less pure, than his son’s– I am not in sympathy with him as with Lytton. He is quite young-looking .. & rather inclined to the super-ornate in the costume; with considerable personal pretention. A quantity of light curly hair (not a touch of grey) and moustaches &c to suit. Speaking somewhat as one with authority .. a slight excess of emphasis—but full of information, & fluent & even brilliant in expression. Robert took to him extremely, & bore him to .... Oh—now you will be surprised when I come to tell you what Robert bore from Sir Edward & thought “not irrational.” But let me begin at the beginning of my story.
Well—on friday evening while we were expecting our guests the Lyttons, the door opened and in came … judge of my consternation … Mr Jerves himself! I really wished for a moment to slip between the boards. The whole room seemed to swim with Hades let loose– I was reassured however. Robert met him and he Robert in as friendly a manner .. as if there was no spiritual world .. we sate by the fire & talked, talked, of literature, of politics, of England & America, of our Florence friends––not a word of dangerous questions. When the Lyttons came, I made tea, & the rest of the party being in conversation he said something softly to me .. “Oh,” said I, “I dont dare to ask you.” He looked towards Robert with a half smile, gently, not in vexation, .. & then said .. “I know. And I have so much to tell you, so much, so much.” He went on to tell me in a low voice that he himself saw spirits now, .. saw them as distinctly as he saw me, .. that they came to him at night and woke him up sometimes .. that he heard spiritual voices– It seems to be mediumship of a high order– But just then Robert called me away to hear something Sir Edward was saying, & we all dropped into general conversation, considerably to my vexation. Mr Jarves came another evening—but not a moment’s opportunity was allowed me—& now he has gone on to Florence. Robert was very kind & attentive to him, I allow,—and that has pleased me & mollified me in spite of all. If he had but added to the benefit by going out of the room for half an hour, he would have been perfect in his beneficence.
So much for Mr Jarves– He went away early that friday evening & left the Lyttons here. When you say I am not submissive as a wife I am sure I dont know what you mean—it seems to me I deserve the gold medal for passive perfection .. except in thought & conscience .. which cant be made passive, if one happens to have any. I sate on the sofa by Sir Edward, talking of things in general & particular .. and dutifully ignoring things spiritual & invisible .. till Robert startled me by whispering across the table “Speak of the spirits”– I looked up in amazement– “Speak of the spirits,” said Robert. “No”—said I .. “I dont like to do that”– And of course I did’nt. Knowing that Sir Edward knew of the whole explosion in London in all its details, [3] I did not choose that he should suppose me capable of the indelicacy of throwing the conflicted subject in the face of my husband before people, without his special permission .. and Robert’s whisper had been inaudible to Sir Edward–– Presently however, having retired to the other side of the table, & begun to talk to Lytton, Sir Edward & Robert got into a tête à tête conversation, & from one thing to another .. Lytton & I became suddenly aware that they were in the thick of the spirit-controversy– “Oh”—said poor Lytton to me .. “I do wish they would talk of something else”– (He was so afraid of a quarrel.) Not a bit of it. Whose fault it was I cant say .. very likely Robert’s—but there they were, discussing Home and the Ealing manifestations when we came up with them– Robert recounted his observations .. how he was’nt permitted to touch the “hands” .. how he was sure they were gutta percha .. strings .. and all the rest of it. Sir Edward heard him out, & then said– “These are very acute & shrewd remarks of yours .. and I perfectly agree with you that any possible supposition should be received rather than a contravention of the general experience of mankind. At the same time I will tell you my reason for believing that there was no gutta percha in the case, and no trick. I held three of these hands in my hand– They were warm, human hands—no gutta percha. The first time I held a hand I believed it was Home’s own—& I thought within myself .. “Now, shall I expose this young man”– Then I considered .. He is young, he does’nt do the thing for money .. I will rather take him apart presently & speak quietly to him on this ill-proceeding– In a moment however, the indignation overcame me, & I said aloud, “Mr Home, that was your hand.” He rose up from the table exclaiming against the wrong I did him by such a suspicion– He went to the window & shed tears hysterically– I followed him & soothed him,—begged him to come back & to allow me to satisfy my natural doubts by holding his hands in mine. He said he would do anything I chose– He came back. I held his two hands in mine—& the three spirit-hands proved themselves to me that they were not his– One great hand, rough like a mariner[’]s—one soft smooth delicate woman’s hand, of which I felt the veins and the polished nails—and one child’s hand that played with mine, was caught & let go. There was no child in the room. I cannot believe there was a trick at all–” Robert listened to it all– Sir Edward added .. that “above the hand & wrist, he had felt something stiff like a drapery .. and that on feeling out for the arm beyond, there was nothing .. nothing.” You have heard so much on the subject that it’s fair you should hear this. Lytton told me in a low voice, he met Mr Cottrell, [4] Count Cottrell’s brother, in the street the other day, & heard curious things of Home .. who is at Florence & producing great excitement there. He is staying with the Trollopes. Mrs Trollope says she has seen him lifted into the air & whirled round the room, with her own eyes. The manifestations in America are said to be more & more wonderful.
Sir Edward observed as he went away, that he was going to see a medium, a French girl, [5] the next morning, & turning to Robert, .. “would you like to go?” “Yes–” said Robert in a moment. “And would you?” .. to me. I looked at my liege-lord, & was permitted to say my natural “yes.” And we went the next morning– Which seemed to me really more miraculous than what we saw– The medium was not extraordinary– The ‘raps’ were produced by her, but she was weak otherwise: one of the common writing-mediums only–
Robert said to me afterwards .. “You see I am not ashamed of acting against my own resolutions”– To which I answered truly that it was one of the noblest things in him, not to be tenacious in either wrong-saying or wrong-doing! And so we were the best friends in the world with regard to spiritual matters–
At the same time, at the same time, Arabel, I shall never moot the subject, unless it is first mooted. In writing to Florence I dont mention Home– The ground is dangerous & should be trodden lightly– He will be convinced one day, this Robert of mine, .. but it wont be by me, or by my means.
If you were to see Penini you would allow that Paris agrees with him. He’s the crown of rosiness & goodness, together. Ferdinando & he accord as usual in the praise of Paris, which, says the former, is past all comparison cheaper than London. We live on poultry, geese, fowls, partridges &c and heaps of grapes & pears. Ferdinando introduces every dish with .. “This would have cost so much in England–” As to the coffee, he maintains that “you could’nt get such in London, though you were ruined for it.” On the other hand, the fuel is very dear,—& we have had to buy spoons in default of those you lent us—(six for two francs) we have sent to London however for our own plate. Also we have bought a metal tea pot to make sure of good tea, .. & paid twelve francs for that. Oh—Arabel! We are perfectly reformed since your time, and have breakfast regularly before nine, to the great ease of our consciences. Robert says he will never be late again while he lives, the early hour is so much better & happier.
Harriet goes on excellently. We have not yet heard Wilson’s decision about coming or staying– Dearest Arabel, explain to the Strattens that I understood they were out of town. If I had not (let me explain to you) it would have been very difficult to call—so beset & buffetted was I by things to do– I could’nt even get to Arlette—or to Mrs Cook– I wrote however to both & I hope Arlette will forgive me for much apparent negligence– I shall write to dearest Henrietta, & to you of course, when we get into another house– May God bless you dearest, dearest– Reconsider the Paris question– Tell me if according to your paper weights I need not have torn this letter– [6] May God keep you my very dearest Arabel– I am your own Ba.
Sarianna’s love– She has furnished her apartment quite prettily, & is well contented.
Address: Angleterre. (Affranchie.) / Miss Barrett / 12. Cornfield Terrace / Eastbourne. Redirected: 50 Wimpole St / London.
Publication: EBB-AB, II, 183–188.
Manuscript: Berg Collection.
1. Year provided by postmark.
2. Arabella (as “Miss Barrett”) is on RB’s list of friends and relatives who were to be sent copies of Men and Women (see letter 3673). He inscribed her copy the following August at Ventnor (see Reconstruction, C399, now at Eton).
3. A reference to the séance in Ealing conducted by Home that was attended by the Brownings (see letter 3587) and to the subsequent “explosion” at 13 Dorset Street (see letter 3606, note 2).
5. Unidentified.
6. Fearing that the letter would be overweight, EBB tore off the lower half of the last two pages.
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