3873. EBB to Arabella Moulton-Barrett
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 23, 72–76.
39. Devonshire Place
Saturday. [Postmark: 4 October 1856]
My beloved Arabel I cant miss today’s post—and yet I’m driven to the wall, & there’s scarcely time to write. Five proofs remain for printing—the presses being all engaged with the previous part of the book—so that I must begin at the beginning & finish the review of all, before you have any more proofs.
To break off from which, & get nearer to my heart in you. In the first place, you are less well– Dearest, darling, what’s the reason of it? Do you know, it does seem to me that sea-air always makes your legs swell– They were at the worst that could be at Sidmouth, remember? [1] Do you think it possible that the warm baths make more swelling?– Why dont you write for the old prescription, if the swelling persists? You ought not to suffer the legs to swell. One thing I have at heart much,—that when you come to London you would go directly to your former homœopathic man, [2] who certainly did you more good at the time than any other medical adviser ever did. For these constitutional chronic maladies, I believe nothing is so good as homœopathy. Mrs Jameson was giving testimony, two days ago—but, quite apart from new testimony, that the principle is right, I feel satisfied,—and it would be a real relief to me and leave me unspeakably grateful to you, my darling dearest Arabel, if you would (for pure love’s sake) give me this promise. For love’s sake! I leave it there, under that name–
As for me, I always do what you ask, and certainly I will not miss a point tomorrow. Mr Stratten shall see us all at the chapel—and in Hamilton Terrace [3] before we go away– Even if it rains tomorrow, we will take a cab & go–
Last sunday we went to church in all orthodoxy, as it was the only sunday Henrietta & I could spend together. We had a good deal of theological talk on one occasion, Surtees & I—& he grew very hot .. for which I liked him none the less. It’s really good to see a man in earnest, even when he is in the wrong. Which Surtees was, I am bound to add. In fact, Arabel, I tell you what I told Henrietta quite gently afterwards, that, as surely as he and I lived, so surely should I live to see him a R. Catholic, & Henrietta & the babies running after him. Henrietta wont like it at first .. she did’nt like many things said by him the other day .. but afterwards she’ll like it as well as the rest—now mark. When I spoke & prophecied thus, she exclaimed a little,—but admitted that she “did feel rather afraid about Surtees sometimes, his disgust to the union of church & state was so extreme.” Yes, she admitted that. Pray do not repeat it .. even to herself. I should be more sorry—I am sorry, but should be more,—if principles did not weigh with me so much heavier than names & signs. He’s as much a R Catholic at this moment, as if he were at the pope’s feet at Rome. Why not use the name?
I like Surtees much, much. His tenderness to Henrietta & the children, and his manly frankness on all occasions, are both attractive to me. I think he has sense too: he talked as well as many cleverer men, on the subject of his views, &c– Also, I should always admire the man who made a woman as happy as he makes Henrietta.
We were made much of, went out to drive every day, .. were smothered with roses of kindness. Altham is a very fine boy. On Sunday afternoon, Robert & Surtees having gone out to walk, he desired to read the evening service. He read the whole of it, chanted it in a loud voice, selected a sermon himself & read it, & then gave the blessing. I never saw such an extraordinary exhibition!—perfectly wonderful on the part of so young a child; though I am not quite settled as to the adviseableness of it altogether. Little Mary is a darling—a most winning little creature,—though not very pretty, in spite of her lovely curled hair. But so soft, so affectionate; I used to say she was stuffed with swan’s down,—& the heart seemed as soft as the rest. I should like that little Mary for my own. I covet my neighbour’s Mary. [4]
So we came home, I expecting to find a letter from you on the table. I wonder at you for thinking that it was my turn to write! Why, I wrote to you long ago. After all, the letter has made me sadder that [sic, for than] if it had’nt come.
The account of papa is not cheering. Do mention him particularly when you write soon again.
Yesterday Alfred & Lizzie came. He was masked in an enormous moustache,—& its a moot point with me, whether it becomes him. Lizzie looked pretty, rather thin, smiling, not overpowered at the notion of separation .. (Alfred going today) .. but intent on following him (to do her justice) in a few days in another vessel. Alfred may complete his business at Madeira in six weeks, or he may be detained three months. [5] Lizzie was’nt allowed to go with him, & would have to pay twenty pounds for her passage in another: under which circumstances, I rather advised that she should stay quietly in England. But she said she must be with him—she could not be separated so long. And this morning I have a note from her to the effect that she is to sail next thursday from Portsmouth. She says in her note, “Alfred is gone—& I am alone in my glory.” Emotion wont break Lizzie to pieces– But she’s very pretty, very.
Alfred was in high spirits– He said he had objected at first (in his secret mind) on account of the cholera,—but that, on enquiry, the disease was stayed, & not above three cases in a week occurred– He has for salary thirty shillings a day, besides expenses—& while he is away, he expects a consulship to be found for him.
We dont sit in the drawingrooms, dearest Arabel, so dont think of us there. We have a fire in the diningroom, & dine & breakfast in the room behind,—& I like this arrangement all the better that I dont see ghosts on the sofas & chairs up-stairs.
Miss Russell [6] came in while Alfred was here yesterday, looking ill, I thought. She asked about you & did not stay long—startled away, it seemed to me, by my society.
Now the poem. No, George, not “worse than Don Juan” [7] by any manner of means,—because the intention is not licentious– There’s a great difference. I admit, it’s a horrible situation—but I wanted a horrible situation to prove a beautiful verity. The intention of the poem everywhere is to raise the spiritual above the natural; this is carried out in everything. Marian, subjected to the most hideous of trials, in fact though with an unconsenting will, is made to emerge with a glory of purity & even of moral dignity, (increased by her very misfortune) [8] to which, at the end, no reader shall be insensible. You shall feel the virtue of chastity, in her, more even than in Aurora. Something of the kind was done by Richardson in Clarissa [9] —but Clarissa was a sublime creature .. more exceptionally attractive than my Marian is—& after all, Clarissa dies .. which I dont mean Marian to do– Marian shall have a clear triumph even here. Oh—I think it very likely that the poem will be shoved away from the reading of young girls—but if it stoops low on certain dunghills, that is in order that it may leap high to the most skyey significances. [10]
How can you understand such a tumble-down letter? I am running out of breath all day—never was anybody with so much to do–
Mr Forster’s married & gone to the Lakes– [11]
I am so glad you liked about the baby. I assure you the baby was necessary. [12]
You cant read .. you cant understand. I’m perfectly in the dark–
May God bless you my own dearest Arabel. I went to Trippy yesterday, & have’nt seen Minny .. which is quite unkind. Robert & I lost our way coming from Trippy’s, which made it late– Best of loves from Robert. May God bless you all–
Your very own Ba.
Address: Miss Barrett / Milanese Villa / Ventnor / Isle of Wight.
Publication: EBB-AB, II, 255–258.
Manuscript: Gordon E. Moulton-Barrett.
1. Where the Moulton-Barretts resided from August 1832 to December 1835.
2. Unidentified.
3. The Strattens’ residence, at no. 65, St. John’s Wood.
4. Cf. Exodus 20:17.
5. The exact nature of Alfred’s “business at Madeira” is unknown. But in light of EBB’s remark below, “while he is away, he expects a consulship to be found for him,” it seems likely that he was still working for the British government (see letter 3533, note 11). Whatever the position, it paid well. Alfred tells Henrietta two months later: “I have been receiving a good income for the time—nearly £600 a year” (5 December 1856, ms at ABL/Altham).
6. Mary Anne Russell (1816–70), sister of Sir William Russell (1822–92); see letter 2165, note 9.
7. Lord Byron’s epic satire, Don Juan (1819–24), was roundly condemned for indecency, impiety, and much else when it first appeared. In letter 1797 EBB confessed that she wanted “to write a poem of a new class, in a measure—a Don Juan, without the mockery & impurity.”
8. In Aurora Leigh, IX, 185–452. Her “misfortune” is being raped in a brothel and the consequent birth of a child, as told in Book VI, lines 1167–1274.
9. In Samuel Richardson’s Clarissa; or, the History of a Young Lady (8 vols., 1747–48), the virtuous title character is duped by the disreputable Lovelace into travelling with him to London, where he establishes her in what she believes to be a respectable house, but which in actuality is a high-class brothel. Lovelace’s attempts at seducing Clarissa having failed, he has her drugged and rapes her, which eventually leads to her death.
10. Cf. Measure for Measure, III, 1, 9.
11. John Forster married Eliza Ann Colburn (née Crosbie) on 24 September at the church of All Saints, upper Norwood.
12. i.e., Marian Erle’s baby, a boy.
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