4014. EBB to Arabella Moulton-Barrett
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 24, 89–93.
Florence.
July 7. & 8. [1857] [1]
My beloved Arabel I am getting uncomfortable about you, dearest. Why dont you write? I imagine that you may be waiting to speak of Storm, but, whatever the motive for silence, it is so very hard for me, this interval, and I find it so impossible not to fancy black things everywhere, that I pray & beseech you to send letters .. short letters if it must be so, but letters of some kind certainly. Are you aware that I have written twice to you since you wrote to me? Did you get our petition, Robert’s & mine, that you would use our plate? No, you dont deign to answer a word.
Meantime my soul walks up & down that house of Wimpole Street. I suppose that Storm may be just now arriving. Dearest Storm– I cant trust myself to speak out. Tell him how I love him, faithfully & tenderly, & how full my heart is & yearning to him always. Then I shall want to know his plans– Oh, he will not, he must not, return again to Jamaica. [2]
I have had a letter from dear Mrs Martin who speaks of Mr Martin & George having some correspondence but does not tell me much of any of you. She is very kind.
You did not tell me, Arabel, if you took that house for a term of years or for one. [3] Dont be afraid to tell me. I am grown meek as Moses, [4] on that subject. I think sometimes to myself, it is true, .. “I wonder if she really will come to Italy this winter” .. but I wont even dwell on that—nor teaze for that .. nor fret for that. I see certain probabilities. In any case we shall be in Paris next spring, & it will be hard if I dont catch hold of you somehow, dearest, dearest.
You will wonder meantime when I tell you that we are still in Florence with plans unmade up. But the heat has been by no means intolerable so far,—& we shant go as long as we can breathe at all comfortably. I was anxious not to go on account of Wilson, because her house is not complete as to furnishing, & it was very desireable that she & Ferdinando shd be on the spot to finish it. [5] Now it is almost done, and Peni says he “never in all his life saw such beautiful furniture”—also, the persons concerned are much satisfied, yet have not spent more than fifty pounds English. I think there are five beds– Eight rooms,—the bedrooms & sittingrooms carpetted throughout. Robert’s contribution was to pay the rent for eleven months—from June to May. Everybody says they are likely to do well, & I do hope; I do hope. When we go north we shall leave our house with them, which will be a small advantage also. Wilson seems to be cheerful & pleased, & even the prudent Ferdinando does not despond. You see they could not have attempted settling in England at so small a risk, & with such probabilities of success,—& after all Ferdinando would have been miserable, in London, & Wilson herself, I think, after this long residence here, not very happy. You dont understand that,—you, just as I dont understand some other things. The worst is, that she may have difficulty about the baptism of the new baby [6] —but Mr Hanna advises a silent boldness, & tells us that at present the Government has adopted the part of “shutting its eyes” [7] on sins of this class which it wont countenance. Only, the pope is coming [8] —and, if he does come, we are not likely to be the better for it.
The English fleet is at Leghorn, & Lord Lyons [9] had the kindness to invite us to his great reception of the day before yesterday, when he entertained the Tuscan Court on board the Royal Albert. [10] Of course I could not go under the circumstances but I wanted Robert to do so,—as the sight of the great war-steamer is said to be magnificent—only he would’nt—it was’nt possible to persuade him– People went to Leghorn & returned the same day–
Mr Hanna came to see me on saturday– He had news of the sudden death of his mother on that day week, [11] preached as usual on the following day, showing as bright & serene a face as one should do who has talked with God– Such things preach better than a hundred sermons and a hundred thousand added to those– They are always very impressive to me. He is forced to go to England, he says, in the latter part of this month, but will return of course– Such a bright, gentle countenance, perpetually smiling—in spite of his Calvinism which would please you more than it does me. He is the very man for the work here—so prudent, & quiet, yet persistent.
Dearest Arabel I was interrupted yesterday by the sight of your letter, & had not the heart to go on writing. So you have left Wimpole Street– Well—since it was to do, it was better done. I do hope you will not forget to let me know at once how you are at Seaton, [12] & how you found our dearest Henrietta. I am very anxious about both of you– Why did Henrietta persist so long in nursing that child? I fancied the child was weaned long ago. As for you Arabel, I cannot conceive of some things you tell me, and of their causes. It seems to me inexplicable that you should go to Devonshire without a maid, for instance, you who at this time particularly require the attendance of one. What can be the reason that you left Bonser behind you? If it is for her own sake, why did you not take another maid. I quite disapprove of your going about or living anywhere without a maid, and in fact it is to me really a riddle why you go alone. Also, it does seem to me that Set & Occy might have left their fishing to travel with you. Ah—I am the fault-finder,—am I not? I stand aside & criticise whatever’s done—that’s my ‘metier!’ Dont you think so of me? I have beaten myself two or three times for having vexed you already—only I love you, dearest, and it was hard for me to see you doing certain things which, in my opinion, were not the best for your health & your animal spirits. Otherwise nothing can be more inconsistent of me than to interfere with your choice in life– My only excuse is that I wanted to give you light & space in which to make a choice. As it is, you hug a chain. [13] Still, Robert thinks, & now I half think, that if you had come out to me as I wanted, you would not have liked it .. and then I myself shd have been twice as unhappy. Altogether therefore I am satisfied & contented that you should have your pretty house & follow your own star—and may God bless you dear, dear, and keep you from feeling too lonely. I hope you will manage to have a friend with you very often—Miss Russell, [14] for instance, would be a pleasant & sympathizing companion. Observe, Arabel—I should suffer less from solitude than you will, .. and it will be right in you to avoid it as much as possible, with reference to your usefulness if for no other reason. As to “not having enough for bread & butter,” I never thought so or said so: but you would’nt if you were to yield to all your generous impulses, Arabel. Take care! I know you and your dispositions to contribute to this & that “Society,” and I do pray you to consider & restrain & constrain yourself a little. Dearest, you will have us at your dinner-table & at your breakfast-table & at your tea-table .. we will have our proper share in ruining you .. (in return for your kindness about the plate .. thank you) you will see, I dare say. Only, residence with you is another thing. Whenever we do go to that wretched London, we are forced to be there for two or three months, you know .. (it is unlike Henrietta’s way of visiting London) and we have business to do, & Robert must receive his friends in a way which would be impossible in a house not ours. We lead racketting lives in London, .. you know too well– You must be reasonable, my darling. And, oh Arabel, pity me too, and remember, dearest, that where things are sad to you they are bitter to me, and that, taking one grief with another, & considering besides that I never yet have gone to England without suffering in health, it is natural for me to hate going, & not unnatural to say so in a moment of pain to George– But forgive me– Of course I shall go to England some day, if God gives me days– I did not fancy, to tell you the truth, that George wd show you that letter: it was not written for you to see– Courage! We must not be ‘lâches’– [15] I love you so very, very much, dear dearest. Also I am sure that you love me: I am not so ungrateful as to doubt it. And you are to remember that for the future you can always come, if you like, to France .. to Paris, to Fontain[e]bleau, to Switzerland .. you are more moveable than we are. Even my beloved Henrietta, tell her with a double-kiss, will be able to pay us a visit in France– The expense of the journey wd not be so great as a month’s staying at the seaside in England. But of this .. enough. If it shall please God, we will all agree to meet oftener. I & Robert are much richer, & have room in our arms for you, observe.
As the letter from Storm has come it does look as if Storm himself were not coming directly– I am very anxious on certain points of arrangement–
And you do think of Italy for this winter? you do? We will do anything, dear, dear– Only Florence is scarcely Florence in quite the winter– Then I cant go out with you– I shall enjoy you only half. There is however time to think. Observe. We should’nt go to Rome till quite the end of November, and at Rome there would be less cold. Well—we will talk of that. I try hard not to let myself hope too much for you– Now write to me & tell me of dearest Henrietta & of yourself. I have not dared speak of some things– You know how I feel. Dearest, dearest, both my sisters, may God love you & keep you. You cant surely stay on at an inn– You will find it dear, besides being rather dreary. Love to Surtees. My very heart cries out of me & prays for you. Write. Robert loves you–
Your own Ba–
Kiss the children for Peni & me–
Publication: EBB-AB, II, 306–310.
Manuscript: Gordon E. Moulton-Barrett.
1. Year provided by EBB’s reference to Arabella’s house.
2. On 6 August 1857 Charles John returned to England for the first time in ten and a half years and took a three-years’ lease on Bryngwyn, an estate in Montgomeryshire, near Oswestry, Shropshire, owned by Mary Williams.
3. We have been unable to determine the terms of Arabella’s lease of 7 Delamere Terrace.
4. Cf. Numbers 12:3.
6. Presumably, the difficulty would have involved Wilson’s not being Roman Catholic.
7. Cf. Isaiah 33:15.
8. Pius IX, along with an extensive entourage, left Rome on 4 May 1857 for a tour of his dominions. While staying in Bologna (June–July), he received, among other notables, the Grand Duke of Tuscany, who invited the Holy Father to pay a visit to Florence. He arrived there on 17 August and, after a week’s residence in the Pitti Palace, departed for Rome, stopping in various Tuscan cities on the way (though not Bagni di Lucca, where the Brownings resided from 30 July to 7 October); see T. Adolphus Trollope, The Story of the Life of Pius the Ninth (1877), II, 61–65.
9. Edmund Lyons (1790–1858), commander of the Mediterranean fleet, was raised to the peerage as 1st Baron Lyons in 1856. His flagship, the Royal Albert, a 120-gun three decker, was the largest warship in the British navy at this time. The Brownings had met Lyons’s son at Rome in 1854 (see letter 3378, note 20).
10. Actually, two days “before yesterday.” The Morning Post of 9 July 1857 carried the following item from its Florence correspondent, who wrote on 4 July: “Lord Lyons and a party of his officers formed the chief objects of interest at the recent fétes. He dined the day before yesterday along with Lord Normanby at the Pitti Palace, and will to-day, on board the Royal Albert, reciprocate the courtesies” (p. 5).
11. Jane Hanna (née Maxwell, 1789–1857) died on 12 June at Ballyhaskin, near Donaghadee, co. Down. She was buried next to her husband, Rev. John Hanna (1784–1850).
12. Seaton, on the southern coast of Devonshire, E. of Exeter, is known for its sandy beaches. Henrietta and Surtees had gone there a week earlier and remained until late August. Joining them were Arabella and other family members, including Storm (see Surtees, 2 July–25 August 1857).
13. Cf. Thomas Gray, “Ode for Music” (1769), line 6: “Servitude that hugs her chain.”
14. Mary Anne Russell (1816–70), the sister of Sir William Russell (1822–92); see letter 2165, note 9.
15. “Cowards.”
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