3693. EBB to Arabella Moulton-Barrett
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 22, 35–40.
3. Rue du Colysée–
Avenue des Champs Elyssées [sic]
Dec. 17th & 16th [1855] [1]
My ever dearest Arabel, here I am again at last—& I want to hear from you already again, dear, dear. Your letter left me not satisfied about you, in spite of what you say to keep me quiet. Rather quiet, than easy I am, after all. I wrote to Henrietta, & I thought you would understand from her that I was alive & the rest, until I could assure you of our being rather prosperous—& free from the “Baroness of that apartment” [2] as Peni says, and the whole dismal locality. That I should have survived to tell the tale, seems strange– Oh– Robert would have thrown it up at once—but how could we throw away ten, twenty pounds? how should we have been justified? It’s hard enough for us to live, under the ordinary circumstances. So I used my whole influence to keep him prudent—and we bore the consequences together. Certainly, I never in my life was so uncomfortable. The cold came on & caught us, & I suffered much from it altogether—but now the evil is past. We resolved to come away last thursday .. running all risks of the frosty air, .. when, just as if to save us, the frost broke, & we had a milder temperature, thank God, to remove in. Robert swathed me up like a mummy—till the only danger was .. of suffocation: woollen shawls wrapt over face & respirator—hot bottles in the carriage. He carried me like a bundle, & shoved me into the carriage & shoved me out, upside or downside .. all the same, to Robert .. explaining me to the porter .. “Elle se porte tres bien—extremement bien—c’est seulement la poitrine &c” [3] —& leaving him to moralize on “cette originalité Anglaise,” [4] and the peculiar way of treating wives in extremely good health. The best part of the joke is, that it’s over– In the first place, the weather has changed to peculiar warmth, instead of cold—& in the second we are so warmly housed that I can scarcely fancy the external temperature acting easily upon us– Indeed Robert has done beautifully with these rooms—well-situated, well-arranged, with an all but south aspect, & in a street just turning from the Champs Elysées—the next door to the corner house—first floor, carpeted—sofas & chairs suited to the Lollards—no glitter, nor yellow satin, but plenty of cleanliness & convenience– (Two pounds, ten, a week though!) I am delighted—& so is Robert. We feel, as he says, as if we had never lived in a house before– Now I shall make you a plan of our rooms, but you must look to the top of the next page for it– Illus. From the drawingroom & my bedroom windows we have a side view of the Champs Elysées, & the back windows look on gardens. Observe, how compact– The dining room (where Harriet & Penini sit when we do not dine) is warmed by a calorific stove—& we have to open the doors for air. The arrangement is what I mean when I talk about the comfort of a continental apartment exceeding that of any house in England. Peni was so pathetic about sleeping in our room that we had his bed moved in, to his great delight—otherwise he would have certainly regretted the “Baroness of that apartment” & the advantages she granted to us. He used to be very mysterious about the “some sings” he liked, he “must say.” Then, Robert’s dressingroom was too far– The child is timid—afraid not of spirits, Arabel, but of animals of all kinds. In Dorset street, I used to go to him once or twice every night—also in the Rue de Grenelle, till my cough began, & then Robert would not let me go– Peni was the best child in the world– He resigned himself instantly,—but once or twice we heard him crying softly to the bedclothes, & then Robert went to him of course. One day I said to him, “Tell me, my Penini, how it was that you were unhappy last night.” He hesitated for a moment or two, & then said .. “Well, I will tell you– I leally did sint that a spider was toming down the wall to bite me.” “But, Penini, spiders dont bite.” “Yes—they do!” [5] (very earnestly) And off he went to get his “book of animals,” to show me the picture of the “tarantula,” and to read the horrible account of the death it could produce. I might talk as I pleased of that sort of spider not existing in these countries– If it was’nt the spider, it was a dreadful rat .. or something as bad, poor child: for all the animals of the earth are at war with him, when he’s in the dark & by himself. Imaginative children will have some sort of haunting terror,—& that’s Penini’s terror, & we cant help it much. He flourishes in spite of it. I should like you to see his rosy round cheeks. He is quite different from what he was in London, & has suffered so little from the cold that I have not put on his jacket which he has worn the greater part of two winters. He is very good & dear, & continues to like Paris & to disparage the mother-country, with the exception of Eastbourne which is sacred to him always. To this day we have long stories about donkies, & sea weed, & sun rises .. “Oh—so beautiful!” and how he & Alibel did this & that, & how he used to “wate my untles evelly morning redelar.” Peni has taken by the way to long words: he talks of a “petuliar taste” in pears—and “fortunately” he has’nt “misellable nights” always—and he “prefers much more better, toast than bread & butter.” With Harriet he gets on capitally, & though he puts her in her place sometimes & informs her that she is not “one of this family like Ferdinando & Weelson”, there’s a great deal of playing & kissing & dear Harrietting going on to my very serious satisfaction– Harriet is really excellent,—has a memory without flaw, and an attention & good humour beyond criticism. She has had a very dull time, & now I hope I may find out some opportunity of liveliness for her at last. As to Wilson she floats about from one intention to another. In her last letter she told Ferdinando that “in a few weeks she hoped to be able to leave her father and her sisters.” So, it may be! She said also something of hoping “to be together in Italy & in their own house, at this time next year” .. so that they probably intend to leave us on our return to Florence. Say nothing of this– She does’nt know, probably, that Ferdinando, who is as simple as a child, brings her letters for me to read, & begs me to read them, as a matter of course.
Talking of simplicity, my darling Arabel, I must have been tolerably simple too, I think, to begin to talk of Mr Stratten’s private experiences to his son, [6] in relation to mediumship generally. Really I have a little more discretion than that. I speak to you—to my own house & heart but, in general, nobody ever hears a word of my peculiar spiritual opinions, unless they begin by opening the subject– One cant talk even of Christ’s Kingdom in mixed society & do any good– I know that too well. People who care to come near enough to me to know what is in me, know it—which is enough for me, and too much for them sometimes. As to dear Mr Stratten I love & revere his boldness & good faith in not shrinking from testifying openly to what he has privately experienced or supposed he has experienced,—what he has actually experienced, I believe as much as he does. The Spirits yearn to impress us so, in many cases, & through our fault they fail. Why shrink? Why fancy that a celestial presence is not to be borne? If he, who sees so much, who understands so nearly what a risen creature is, pressed in towards the light, he might have still other communications. I should have liked to hear that sermon. Certainly the apparition of Moses & Elias (to say nothing of Samuel’s) [7] is conclusive on the subject. But the gross materialism of the age blinds men’s eyes with grave-dust.
It was a great trial to Robert, that letter of Mrs Kinney’s. You remember how he wrote to her from Dorset Street [8] & she replied, but you dont know what a dogged determined sort of woman she is. When this last letter came Robert kept it in his pocket all dinnertime, that I might not read it without him, & as we sate before the fire to read it together afterwards, he exclaimed, “Now remember! you wont miss anything.” (I was to read it aloud.) He was confident of being confirmed against Home. Such a letter! You will have heard through Henrietta of course. Robert said “a congregation of angels would’nt convince him, but he certainly was a good deal surprised.” She & Mr Kinney had seen “accordians [sic] fly through the air, playing as they went,” & wonderful other things .. of which Sophia Cottrell is to write further. But poor Home is all but dying they say—very ill: and he tells them he is to go soon. The séances have been held at different houses of our Florence friends, now at Mr Powers’s (chiefly there I think) now at the Trollopes, & now at the Kinneys. Machinery out of the question therefore. It was at Mr Powers’s that the spirits told Mrs Kinney they could do her good physically (she is out of health) by preparing some “odic water.” In order to which, they directed young Powers (the eldest son) [9] to go to Roberts’ the chemist, for a bottle of double-distilled water. On its arrival (they had waited) it was placed on the table, & they were told to taste it. Of course it tasted like pure water. Then the spirits began their operations with vibrations across the table, and after a time a vapour was seen by everybody to surround & ascend from the bottle. The water was tasted, & an aromatic flavour observed by each person present. Mrs Kinney was directed to keep the bottle in a dark place, & take a tea spoonful of the water every morning & night—“Which I do,” she says—“I, the sceptic”! Think of Robert. He had the candour (nobly candid he is always) to show this letter to Mrs Sartoris, Mrs Jameson, & others who had suffered his influence, without the least word of solicitation from me. He said it was “fair” to do so.
They had all seen the “hands” &c. I am going to write to Mrs Kinney, & shall hear more of course. You know by this time that Mr Stratten’s son did not come to Paris—not to me, at least. We should have been very glad to see him. Give my love & sympathy to all that house, will you? You must be aware, Arabel, that most people would attribute what happened to Mr Stratten simply to emotion & excitement of nerve arising from it, .. & would set down the least reference to such a thing in a pulpit as a most fanatical imprudence. The hatred of all supposition of spiritual influence & accident in this material world, is positively revolting to persons in general. And this is at the bottom of the intolerance of certain facts & the theory attached to them.
Charles Dickens lives nearly opposite to us. He is here with his family for the winter, but he has left them to go to England for a few days. The weather has turned unseasonably hot—& it’s difficult to keep our thermometer below seventy. I cant fancy that this house can be cold though, were it otherwise out of doors. I am feeling a good deal better. Darling Arabel, say how you are exactly, for let me repeat, at the risk of vexing you, I dont accom[m]odate myself to my thoughts about you—I am not comfortable in my heart. So if you can truly, write & relieve me.
I want you to tell me two things—of what sex was the Carmichael baby? [10] and when do you go out of mourning– [11] Yes, & had Arlette a girl or boy? [12] You dont tell me about Trippy– Give her my best love—I hope she had my letter long ago. How is dear Minny now? Its quite as well that she should be in bed this Christmas when she always does herself harm otherwise. Really Arabel you dont speak of Papa– Speak, speak– Have you seen the Leader’s review of Robert in two numbers? [13] He is so pleased at your liking his poems a little– He loves you. What is there in Mrs Ogilvy’s poems? [14] Not much, I suppose– Your own ever loving
Ba–
Address: Angleterre– / Miss Barrett / 50 Wimpole Street / London.
Publication: EBB-AB, II, 193–198.
Manuscript: Gordon E. Moulton-Barrett.
1. Year provided by postmark.
2. Augustine du Casse; see letter 3664, note 2.
3. “She is well—extremely well—it is only the chest.”
4. “This English eccentricity.”
5. Underscored three times.
6. We have been unable to determine to which of Stratten’s two sons EBB is referring.
7. See I Samuel 28:7–20. Moses and Elias appear as apparitions in Matthew 17:1–4 and Mark 9:2–5.
9. Nicholas Powers.
10. Mary Carmichael (1855–1942), daughter of EBB’s cousin Louisa Carmichael (née Butler) and her husband, James, was born on 13 August.
12. Ethel Maud Reynolds (1855–1906), born on 24 October at 6 Oxford Square, was the fourth child and second daughter of Charles William Reynolds and his wife, Charlotte (“Arlette”), (née Butler), EBB’s first cousin.
14. Eliza Anne Ogilvy’s Poems of Ten Years: 1846–1855 (1856) appeared in The Athenæum’s “List of New Books” on 1 December 1855 (no. 1466, p. 1401).
___________________
