3959. EBB to Arabella Moulton-Barrett
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 23, 209–215.
Florence.
Jany 25. [1857] [1]
Thank you my best beloved Arabel– You made me very happy by your letter. Such letters are worth .. can we tell the worth of them in this world’s gold? If you kill yourself only by halves, I suppose I should be grateful to you—& really I am, darling—set it down among my debts to you. The little note by Mrs Stephenson was pleasant; but this letter was pleasanter still. I do entreat you not to wrong me by a thought of postages– Its too bad when you do. Also, observe (as you observe such things) that the postage between Italy & England has fallen to nine pence English, .. the price of a yard of calico! And I who want it to patch up my heart!–
Mrs Stephenson came, & we agreed in praising you .. & then in abusing you for refusing to associate with anybody– Oh Arabel! The whole world in one tale against you!– She never could get you to come to her, she said– Of course not. She seems goodnatured & amiable. I dont know who “Ellen” is, or the daughter of Ellen. [2] It might refer to some ‘friend’ of Mr Curt[e]is’s, [3] perhaps. What you tell me of the bequests to yourself & Henrietta gives me extreme pleasure, [4] because from hearing nothing & having enquired in vain, I had concluded that you had been passed over altogether; but oh, that it had been more for Henrietta,—oh, that it had. And how strange, when you come to think, .. that it was not! To you, the need is not likely to come, in spite of imaginary contingencies, Arabel,—but a few thousands to Henrietta would have been a great help. Well, I had given it up in despair—so the news of even so much was most welcome– For the rest, you made me sick & cold with the things you told me of Devonshire Place. I cant make out how (apart from all sensibility) people physically have the nerve to do such things! Miss B, too, who writing to us at the end of three weeks, observed that it was “like sacrilege” to tell us of the money left to us, … to name the subject at all!– And yet at the one week’s end, there she was in person .... oh, I cant really conceive of it– And she who conceives that the whole living loving human being has gone down into the grave for ever! It’s horrible, I do say. That poor Mrs Adams [5] was in great vexation at the time of our visit at Cowes– She told Wilson that it was a comfort to her to have a Christian family in the house, so miserable she was & anxious for her master,—& she & the other servants evidently thought, says Wilson, that we were to succeed &c– But I knew it was not to be; I knew. No, Arabel, I may truly say I was not ‘disappointed’– On the contrary; for I imagined we were passed over. But, as you ask me, I will confess frankly to you that we should not have disliked the Devonshire Place house, though we could not have lived there—it wd have been a branch to ‘light upon[’] when we went to London; & we should have had pleasure in keeping things together as a memorial. Never mind– The probability of such a thing did not stand by either of us, I do assure you,—& we both feel that what has been actually done for us was most sufficient & kind.
Tell me if Papa has made any observation about the second edition of [‘]‘Aurora”. I think so much of these things in reference to him—but I dare say he is absolutely indifferent to me & my writings. Did you read the Blackwood Review? Robert was so frightened of some personal blackguardism that he went down at night to the Reading Rooms [6] to get sight of the number,—since when I have read it myself, & no, there is really nothing to complain of. The review is written by someone (Robert thinks Alison) [7] of an elder school, & who judges from his own point of view, of course,—& praises as far as he can conscientiously. I think him wrong, but not malignant; and the admissions are so great, that more good than evil will arise from it to the sale of the book– There’s a favorable notice in the Westminster—& one in the New Quarterly, [8] I hear. As to the American reviews, they are ecstatical– I am said to have put down all my faults, & to have gone miles beyond myself in all ways– [9] The Americans especially delight in the scene in the church, & the dialogue of the fine people &c (on which the Athenæum was severe) [10] —& by the way, Mrs Twistleton [11] (an American, who married the brother of Lord Saye & Sele) writes to me from London that she cant understand how an Englishwoman could so perfectly see & represent English peculiarities, as I have done in this book. In Florence the poem has found great favour, it appears—people say “it magnetizes them,” though it was’nt written by the spirits after all!– The English bookseller [12] from whom we get the Galignani, told Robert that he had been “foolish enough to order only a few copies—which had been sold instantly, so that he had had to send for others.” You see, the story is attractive, & then there’s a certain boldness in the sentiment,—for, as to the poetry, I never will believe that the masses are moveable by mere poetry. On the other side, I do hear that there’s a party in England, holding up their hands at the scandal of a woman’s having written such a book. And Mrs Ogilvy tells me that “the mamas wont allow their daughters to read it”– Well the daughters must be very young—& my comfort is that they will grow older. Certainly, some of the most enthusiastic voices which have reached me have been voices of noble women. Dreadfully obstinate I am, & selfwilled, Arabel–
As to Swedenborg, these two times have you told me that I was making him a pope. A pope! He who annihilated himself as an authority– But, Arabel, if pope Pio Nono had his spiritual eyes opened & saw a thing, & if I believed he saw it, I would certainly allow myself to be taught by him as to the things seen, [13] though one cried ‘Pope’ ever so. He wd be an eyewitness in that case, & so far an authority——just as you would be, if you had seen—or Mr Stratten, if he had seen. That Swedenborg saw, I believe,—& that he told what he saw with a simple veraciousness, I also believe. As a pope, or an infallible exponent of opinion, I dont believe in him at all, nor did he ever set himself up as such: I know him to be perfectly fallible, & think even that he mistook sometimes in supposing the thing he saw to be Thing when it was only type. But he did see. As a Seer, I quote him—because there is none else to be quoted—because I could’nt quote the new Testament or old for those particular sights, when they are unwritten of, except by implication. I hear much of the spirits. Mr Kirkup has rings & crosses carried out of the window, mesmerised, & brought back. Do I believe such stuff, you exclaim– Well—I believe such things are possible, certainly; but I have been slow in setting down these particular facts as genuine because it has always seemed to me that Mr Kirkup with all his talents, was unphilosophical & incautious in carrying out his experiments. Robert & I, however, have both been puzzled a good deal lately– Mr K. was telling us how he made his deposit on the inside ledge of an open window of an uninhabited room, double-locked the door, arranged a straw in the lock, (so as to show whether it had been paltered with)—examined the room & found the deposit gone, the next day,—relocked the door—returned after three days, & found the deposit restored. Robert went & examined the room, & the window which looks over the river (high up)—& so did Mr Trollope—there seemed a difficulty in supposing access possible. Still, we suggested that the straw might be seen & removed, & the door unlocked by another key, & it wd be more satisfactory if he were to seal up the door with his own seal. He came two days ago quite agitated– Every precaution had been taken—the seals were found intact, & the deposits (after removal) in their place– Robert went on purpose to examine the door. He says, he is at a loss—he cant imagine how the thing could be done. Certainly the seals were unbroken. There is another door—but it is fastened up & behind a bookcase which could’nt be moved—that is out of the question. Still, as the bookcase has no back I have been considering whether the door might not be opened from behind, & a few books pushed out & pulled in again, so as to admit of access. Robert is going to see if that door opens outwards—because, if it opens inwards, it could’nt of course be done. If the door opens inward, then the work is the work of spirits, in my opinion—there is no other explanation. Ah dearest Arabel—it was too bad that so much of your letter should be taken up with Mrs Roberts’s. [14] Of course Robert wont let me answer it—cela va sans dire [15] —and really I dont bewail myself for that. I knew long & long ago all about Mrs R.’s experience– I dare say it is a true spiritual experience, .. though there is’nt the slightest reason for my thinking that it has the least authority, or comes from her child. Every sixth person might have such an experience if he or she pleased—& there’s no interest whatever to me in what she says beyond the repetition of what I hear every day. Here’s Wilson who will show me as much spiritual inauthentic writing as I please– There are spirits who will write all day under any name, it has ceased to be wonderful to me. If indeed I could see (as has been seen here again & again) the spiritual hands write before my eyes .. themselves .. not using any human hand of a medium .. that would be interesting to me still & deeply .. whether the thing written were authentic or inauthentic as to any particular spirit–– Then as to Mrs R’s letter I agree with you & Robert, that it’s suspicious, her putting off this communication to me, till ...... [16] Well– I wont write it. Never has she written a word to me till just now,—though there have been occasions .. of illness, marriage &c &c when she might have written. Not that I cared for it! No, but then I dont care either, about answering her present letter. I do wonder that she should venture to ask Mr Ruxton to lend her money—that, I do wonder at.
I hope the ‘tears’ of my American publisher over ‘Aurora’ were not wrung from him by the thoughts of the hundred pounds he paid for it. That wd be too pathetic. Such a letter we have had from Leigh Hunt. [17] Only twenty pages! He thinks ineffable things of the poem—my shyness wont let me repeat. Fanny Haworth has given a few more touches to the picture of Penini, & really it is like him,—& really lovely. People said before, it did’nt do him justice, but now I am content. Its a sweet little picture. So good he is– There was a long letter written to you—without any help of a medium, the other day, which it’s a pity you dont get—but I grudge the room. Think of Penini saying to Count Ginnasi, that, if he would let him see Dante’s spirit, “mi farebbe un piacer[e].” [18] The count turned round to Robert & observed what an expression the child had when he spoke– Peni is charmed with Count Ginnasi, & considers him a sort of Arabian Night enchanter .. which is rather his profession. He drops in now & then, in the evening, with his talismans & magic mirrors, & Robert bears wonderfully with him: in fact he is very goodnatured .. besides being a friend of Mr Kirkup—& Robert will bear anything from Mr Kirkup. We had an adventure the other night. Robert was at Isa Blagden’s, & I had gone to bed, to be lazy & read an amusing book in shelter from all visitors .. when there was an alarm of fire in the Casa Guidi,—smoke & smell increasing everywhere (except in our rooms) frightfully, till a gentleman from up stairs, came down & pressed that Mr Browning should be sent for. You see, nobody could find out where the fire was .. & there began to be mysterious crackings as if the beams were igniting to the horror of certain inhabitants– Well—we thought it better to send for the firemen than for Robert—& distracted messengers rushed out accordingly for the firemen—five or six, with gens d’armes to look on– And then they found, it was an outside chimney, where a lodgement of soot had been made– Bricks & stones came tumbling down into Wilson’s room. Peni who was asleep in mine woke up in terror, & came in to bed to me, where he lay in my arms as pale as the sheets & trembling all over, .. crying out, “The only thing in the world I am afraid of, is just fire.” Peni always says that of every separate cause of fear, as it occurs. Poor little darling– I had a great deal to do to pacify him, & to convince him that we could always escape across the stone floors & staircases. But everything ended well–
Yesterday evening being supposed to be fast asleep on my lap, he burst out into French & just these words .. “il ne me manque que de la bonne volonte pour ecrire une lettre” [19] ––and off he went to begin another letter to Arabel– It is’nt finished though.
Miss Cushman (the American actress) is giving or about to give ‘readings’ of ‘Aurora’ in Rome.
I have a letter from Mrs Jameson, & hear from her to my & Robert’s great surprise that “at least £80,000 will be found undisposed of, & have to be divided between the residuary legatees. If this be true, it is prodigious– I cannot conceive of Méssrs Booth & Hawthorne having claim to such a bequest. [20] Probably it was the consequence of the haste at last—but then, Mr Booth who was present at the will-making, must have known .... Well, it is astonishing.
You dont mention dear Trippy– Is she better? And Mr Hunter. I want much to know of him & Mary– My best love to you all– And Arabel, love me in yourself—& take care of yourself—& write to me, darling– Robert’s love– And Peni’s– Your own attached Ba–
Address: Angleterre viâ France. / Miss Barrett / 50. Wimpole Street / London. W.
Publication: EBB-AB, II, 278–284.
Manuscript: Berg Collection.
1. Year provided by postmark.
2. Eleanor Sarah Kenyon Bradley (d. 1867, aged 23), a legatee in John Kenyon’s will, was a daughter of William Henry Bradley and his wife, Eleanor Lawrence Bradley (née Simpson, d. 1850), John Kenyon’s second cousin. The relevant passage in the will reads: “I give to the daughter of my late Cousin Eleanor S. Bradley the sum of Ten thousand pounds if & when she shall attain the age of 21 years but not otherwise & I direct my Executors to apply such part of the income of the said ten thousand pounds as they in their absolute discretion think fit for her maintenance in the meantime” (see SD1993).
3. A reference to Kenyon’s brother-in-law John Curteis (d. 1849, aged 80); see letter 2794, note 7.
5. Mary Ann Adams (d. 1859) is listed as a servant in Kenyon’s household in both the 1841 and 1851 England censuses. In his will, he named her one of his “old & faithful servants” and bequeathed her an annuity of £60.
6. i.e., Vieusseux’s reading rooms and circulating library.
7. Archibald Alison (1792–1867), 1st Baronet, historian and ultra-Tory, was a frequent contributor to Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine. His History of Europe during the French Revolution (10 vols., 1833–42, Edinburgh and London) was “the Bible of the Tory party” (ODNB). William Edmonstoune Aytoun wrote the review of Aurora Leigh in Blackwood’s; see letter 3949, note 58.
8. A notice of Aurora Leigh in the January 1857 issue of The New Quarterly Review (pp. 33–35) contained the following remark: “The incidents of the book would have thrilled in a novel—the loftiness of the philosophy would have allured in a treatise—together, they compose a poem, whose action criticism must allow to be as sustained as its scope is large and noble.” For the full text of this review, see pp. 348–350. The author of the “favorable notice” in The Westminster Review (January 1857, pp. 306–310) has been identified as George Eliot (1819–80). She noted: “Other poems of our own day may have higher finish, or a higher degree of certain poetic qualities; but no poem embraces so wide a range of thought and emotion, or takes such complete possession of our nature.” For the full text of this review, see pp. 364–366.
9. In an unsigned review of Aurora Leigh in The Albion of 6 December 1856 (pp. 577 and 585), the reviewer wrote: “‘Aurora Leigh’ has all the qualities of Mrs. Browning’s previous poems—sincerity and strength of thought—splendour and energy of style—an embodied passionateness, so to speak. It has also other qualities not found in them; a more profound knowledge of life and the human soul, a deeper intellectual culture, considerable skill in sketching character, a vein of biting sarcasm, a wonderful power of painting landscapes; in short it is, what the last poem of so true a poet should be, the best thing that she has yet done.” For the full text of this review, see pp. 312–313. The reviewer for the New-York Daily Times of 9 December 1856 (p. 2) wrote: “In her earlier poems indeed, there were plain and obtrusive defects, which at first repelled us more strongly than the irresistible vitality of the works attracted us. … But Mrs. Browning … has steadily worked on, removing one by one the obstacles which habit and the idiosyncracy of her character had erected to her attainment of absolute poetic expression, with such success that now, in this her last poem and her longest, the most fastidious foe to her earlier mannerisms will hardly find a trace of them.” For the full text of this review, see pp. 313–318.
10. Henry Fothergill Chorley, reviewing Aurora Leigh in The Athenæum (no. 1517, 22 November 1856, pp. 1425–27), called the gathering of “Rank and Rags” at Marian and Romney’s wedding in St. Giles Church “a parade somewhat insolent in its condescension.” He also disliked the “flippancy” with which EBB treated the “perversely trivial” conversation of high society. For the full text of this review, see pp. 275–279. The New-York Daily Times (see note 9 above) praised the wedding scene: “The chat and dialogue here of both classes is in a very spirited, natural vein.”
11. Ellen Twisleton.
12. Listed under “Printsellers” in Murray’s Handbook for Travellers in Northern Italy (1858): “Edward Goodban in the Via de Legnaioli, No. 4183 (opposite the Café Doney), agent for these Handbooks, is well provided with works on art, and with maps and books useful for travellers in Italy, photographic views, &c.; and will procure all modern Italian and other books” (part II, p. 519).
13. Cf. II Corinthians 4:18.
14. Anne Elizabeth Roberts (née Gordon, formerly Moulton-Barrett, 1812–83). She had married EBB’s uncle Samuel Moulton-Barrett (1787–1837) in 1833. Three years after his death, she married Martyn John Roberts (1806–78). The child mentioned by EBB was probably Annie Gordon Neville Roberts (b. 1844), the eldest of five.
15. “That goes without saying.”
16. “Till” she had heard of the legacies that Kenyon had left the Brownings.
18. “I would be pleased.”
19. “I’m only missing the goodwill to write a letter.”
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