3862. EBB to Arabella Moulton-Barrett
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 23, 59–61.
[West Cowes]
Tuesday—& wednesday [16–17 September 1856] [1]
My beloved Arabel I did’nt write because I wanted to say something of our going or staying, & I fancied we might go soon. Now, Mr Kenyon will have us stay till saturday (decided this morning) and perhaps we may overstay sunday—who knows? Robert told me this morning he wd go to Taunton if I liked it– I have felt rather nervous about staying here, lest we should, by ever such infinitesimal a degree, do him more harm than good. You see he hates being an invalid,—& he cant be other—& he will go down to dinner where he scarcely touches anything– If I were in his state, I know, I would’nt see a creature. In certain respects he has been somewhat easier, I think,—the struggles for breath less violent—struggles, till he is bathed with perspiration—still, they go on always, more or less. The languor & weakness I dont care so much for—because when people take digitalis every day, as he does, some such effects must be looked for. They give too, strong drastic medecines, which tell on a person at last. After all, he wont die, I think, soon—it may be very lingering– He says sometimes with his affecting smile—“You see I have been a spoilt child. I have been used too much to enjoy– Now, this seems hard—& I am afraid I dont bear it well.”—But he bears it beautifully– It’s extraordinary to me how, with his antecedents & his opinions, he bears it as he does– Not a pettish word or gesture– Even when he wishes it were over, it’s with a smile chiefly. And he’s so good to Penini, .. kisses him, & sees to his little pleasures. There is the Christian heart, if not the head– Dear, dear Mr Kenyon–
And now here’s a sad story. You know Mdme Braun, Miss Bayley’s niece. She was to have come here last sunday or monday, & Mr Kenyon wanted us to stay on to be with her here, as we had known her in Rome & elsewhere. Well—instead of her, on sunday came a letter. On friday night had arrived a telegraphic despatch, awaking her from her first sleep with the news that her husband was “dangerously ill.” Poor thing,—she got up, & went away in the morning,—&, as soon as she had gone, arrived another despatch .. he was dead!– [2] Of course, gastric fever .. in this worst month of the year for Rome!– Is’nt it dreadful? She was so happy,—so happy, that she said to me once, .. ‘I only desire that this state may endure.’ —Miss Bayley takes it compassionately, but more quietly than you or I would, I must say. She is sensible & benevolent—too sensible, to be after my heart. I respect her, & feel ‘antipathetically[’] in regard to her. Not a bit does she care for Peni—& for me, still less, perhaps. She said to me the other day, [‘]‘You & I disagree upon every possible subject, Ba.” “Out of opposition,” said I, “arises love”—(how we lie, sometimes, for the sake of being civil!) “I dont know that,” said she very coolly. In fact, I do know that she rather bears with me than likes me—it’s plain. Oh, there’s no want of toleration in me—you would say I sin the other way! I can bear any degree of scepticism & unbelief—but there’s a self-satisfied comfortable assumption of a world without God & a body without a soul, which I revolt against inwardly, I who live by & in another persuasion. It’s like walking in snow up to your knees,—you cant get on. I never shall get on with her, never—and yet I’m sure she’s very kind to me, very considerate, very courteous—but we two remain two after all– She considers me all ‘hallucination,’ and I, her, all obtuseness–
Darling Arabel, you did’nt say how you were, in your last letter– I entreat you, if you are pretty well, to say so—otherwise I fancy all sorts of things. Tell me, if we go to Taunton on saturday, or monday, is there a chance for us that you would go too? We sail to Southampton, it seems, and then go by railroad, .. & do the bit to Yeovil, by coach. Surely, dearest, if Papa does’nt come, he does’nt mean to come, and in that case, why should’nt we be happy together in this way? Think of it, dear dearest Arabel. I have’nt written to Henrietta, not knowing precisely.
Sir Charles Fellowes took Penini away to his farm, the day before yesterday, that Peni & Frank might enjoy the last afternoon together before the latter’s going to school. Sir Charles came to see us after, in an enthusiasm about Peni, whom he called “the most amusing child he had ever seen in his life.” Peni had told them a great deal about Italy, & France,—he had’nt been shy by any manner of means– He is to have the charge of Frank’s rabbits till he goes away—left heir!—and is as satisfied as heirs are apt to be.
We have quantities of books here, & newspapers,—& I have champagne every day, which is more pleasant than wholesome, I dare say: still, it does’nt seem to me that I’m the worse for it. I send you a revise.
You will take the baths, but you dont take them: you must take them. And sketch a little more, without the ants– I’m forced to go away to the proofs & revises– So much to do today– And I could’nt finish this letter yesterday. Dear, your weather has been warmer than ours, though we have had a day or two warm—but it is fine generally. Only on Sunday so cold, that Robert wdnt let me go out. I told Wilson to take Peni to church– “No I really wont go to church,” said the sucking schismatic! “I’ll go to Chapel, only–” How shocked they will be at Taunton! [3] Robert’s special tender love to you darling Arabel, & both our dear loves to everybody– No revise today. Your own Ba.
We go on monday, definitively. Mr K has sent for me & given me fifty pounds for travelling expenses. We go, monday–
Address: Miss Barrett / Milanese Villa / Ventnor.
Publication: EBB-AB, II, 251–253.
Manuscript: Gordon E. Moulton-Barrett.
1. This letter is postmarked 17 September 1856, a Wednesday.
2. August Emil Braun (1809–56) died at Rome on 12 September 1856.
3. A reference to the Cooks’ high churchism. “Chapel,” in this context, refers to a dissenting, or non-conformist, place of worship; “church” refers to an Anglican one.
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