3856. EBB to Julia Martin
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 23, 49–51.
3. Parade. West Cowes–
9. September. [1856] [1]
My dearest Mrs Martin,
Your letter has followed us. We have been in the south of the island .. at Ventnor with Arabel .. and are now in the north with Mr Kenyon. We came off from London at a day’s notice, the Wimpole street people being sent away abruptly (in consequence plainly of our arrival becoming known) & Arabel bringing her praying eyes to bear on Robert, who agreed to go with her & stay for a fortnight– So we have had a happy sorrowful two weeks together, between meeting & parting,—& then came here where our invalid friend called us. Poor Arabel is in low spirits, very—& aggrieved with being sent away from town—but the fresh air & repose will do her good in spite of herself .. though she swears they wont—(in the tone of saying they shant.) She is not by any means strong, & overworks herself in London with schools & Refuge’s, & societies—does the work of a horse, and is’nt a horse– Last winter she was quite unwell, as you heard– In spite of which I did not think her looking ill when I saw her first, and now, she looks well, I think—quite as well as she ever does– But she wants a new moral atmosphere, a little society,—she is thrown too entirely on her own resources: & her own resources are of somewhat a gloomy character. This is all wrong—it has been partly necessary, .. & a little her fault .. at one time. I would give my right hand to take her to Italy—but if I gave right & left, it would not be found possible– My father has remained in London, & may not go to Ventnor for the next week or two, says a letter from Arabel this morning. He has been extremely unwell, off & on, all the summer—and aunt Jane saw him when he was most unwell, & she was impressed beyond the reality. In fact, it was an affection of the kidneys—producing great suffering at intervals—but lately there has been relief,—and Set, who is with him, writes that he is better than he has been for months, and likely, of course, to be better– Arabel has had no sort of apprehension about him, in spite of the degree of suffering, when he suffered– The very day he heard of our being in Devonshire Place, he gave orders that his family should go away. I wrote afterwards, but my letter, as usual, remained unnoticed.
It has naturally begun to dawn upon my child that I have done something very wicked to make my father what he is– Once he came up to me earnestly & said, “Mama, if you’ve been very, very naughty—if you’ve broken china!” (his idea of the heinous in crime.) “I advise you to go into the room and say, “Papa, I’ll be dood’.” [2] Almost I obeyed the inspiration—almost I felt inclined to go—! But there were considerations, yes, good reasons, which kept me back, .. & must continue to do so. In fact, the position is perfectly hopeless—perfectly.
We find our dear friend Mr Kenyon, better in some respects than we expected, but I fear in a very precarious state. Our stay is uncertain– We may go at a moment’s notice, or remain if he wishes it—and my proofs, being sent, post by post, we are able to see to them together, without too much delay. Still, only one half of the book is done,—and the days come when I shall find no pleasure in them [3] — .. nothing but coughing–
George & my brothers were very kind to Robert at Ventnor, & he is quite touched by it. Also, little Pen made his way into the heart of ‘mine untles’, & was carried on their backs up & down hills, and taught the ways of “English boys” with so much success, that he makes pretensions to “pluck,” & has left a good reputation behind him. On one occasion he went up to a boy of twelve who took liberties, & exclaimed, ‘Dont be impertinent, sir,’ .. (doubling his small fist) ‘or I will show you that I’m a boy.’ Of course ‘mine untles’ are charmed with this ‘proper spirit,’ & applaud highly. Robert & I begged to suggest to the hero, that the ‘boy of twelve’ might have killed him if he had pleased– “Never mind,” cried little Pen—“there would have been somebody to think of me, who would have him hanged!” (—Great applause from the uncles–) ‘But you would still be dead,’ said Robert remorselessly. “Well! I dont tare for that! It was a beautiful place to die in!—close to the sea”.
So you will please to observe, that in spite of being Italians, & wearing curls, we can fight to the death on occasion–
George says that the reason he did’nt go to Colwall, [4] was, because you did’nt ask him[.] You know George stands out on etiquette sometimes.
We go to Italy when we can get away from the book. First we go to Florence (so we talk) and then to Rome for the winter. Now I am thinking of Henrietta whom I have’nt seen, & who cant come to me– It seems impossible for me to go without seeing her—but it is almost impossible for me to go to Taunton.
Betwixt the almost & the altogether, [5] there’s a bare possibility, & I muse over it.
Write to me & say how you both are. Robert’s love. We both love you.
Very lovingly yours,
Ba.
Address: Mrs Martin / Colwall / Malvern.
Publication: LEBB, II, 236–238 (in part).
Manuscript: Wellesley College.
1. Year provided by postmark.
2. “Dood” is underscored three times.
3. Cf. Ecclesiastes 12:1.
4. Old Colwall, the Martins’ seat in Herefordshire, near Hope End.
5. Cf. Acts 26:29.
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