4553. EBB to Arabella Moulton-Barrett
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 27, 93–97.
28 Via del Tritone
Rome
Decr 25–6 [1859] [1]
Ever beloved Arabel this is to give notice that I am writing the third letter since I heard from you. Why not write, darling, darling? If you could fancy how I fancy? First, things are wrong with you—then with George’s head .. (dearest George!) then with Storm, of whom I never hear a syllable. I am cut off from Storm. Never is he named to me. Then my imagination deals with me as all of yours’ does with Louis Napoleon– As every possible crime is set down to him, so is every manner of grief, to me. You dont write, you dont write, .. you naughty, naughty Arabel–
As for me, I am well. We have had some cold here—even some snow. Now it is mild enough to go out in. The house is always warm. Certainly to be here is good for the body of me, if the soul of me can keep quiet & out of storms. May God, with His great love, keep us all. Penini & Robert are both perfectly well, so far. I had a terror, through the sudden death of a child of Mr Stone’s, [2] a rich American, of diphtheria .. but Pantaleoni says its a very rare desease here. The father & mother were almost frantic, though he was bound ’prentice to grief long ago, [3] having lost his father, & mother, brother & sister in the Arctic! [4] think of that. His hair is grey, “& not with years” [5] —& no wonder. He was to have shown us all splendid hospitalities this winter, & now rushes from Rome with his fierce sorrow at his back. Peni knew the child—& the family had left cards on us.
Before I go on, let me say of myself that I seem to myself better-rooted in life—not merely better, but safer, as far as natural causes go, than I felt six weeks past– I look as well as before my illness, & the few additional grey hairs (which certainly are to be found) dont show much– Also I fall into dreadful temptations to exultation about Italy. I am afraid of hoping too much—really afraid. I said so to Odo Russell who called here yesterday, and he responded—“But it seems to me that you are justified in any degree of hope. When I saw you in Siena, I thought the Italians less reliable in Central Italy than they are now proved. And for the emperor,” said he, “everything that comes out proves him rather an Italian than a Frenchman– Whatever seemed otherwise arose from the necessity of keeping on good terms with the Kings & queens of the earth–” “So have I always thought,” I said– “It is now evident” he answered. —Now this is the highest official authority. Odo Russell is very keen, & very English. His prejudices all run against Napoleon, & if he could establish a charge involving personal ambition & the rest, he would do it.
There are enormous difficulties however in the South of Italy, & it is the opinion of well-informed politicians that the pope wont lose all at a congress-stroke .. that we shall have to wait a little still. I cant trust to paper some things– There have been mistakes—some guns hung fire– Which was not the emperor’s fault, let me add– If God gives him life he will come out as the greatest & most loyal of men—as one who has risked everything for Italy, except her cause–
I had a letter from Mrs Martin a short time since & she mentions uncle James’s continual precarious state, [6] (in which there does not appear much change), and the arrival of the Hedleys at Tours. Poor Bummy did not go, I do hope. Tell me what you hear of him, & all of them.
Here is Christmas—which, except for my Pen, one of my strongest wishes (for myself) is to wish over. Pen is invited to go to a Tree at General Guyon’s [7] with “Monsieur l’abbé” his tutor. For Pen has a tutor, let me tell you––yes, and an Italian priest, yes, and a Jesuit. Do you feel frightened, Arabel? It is an arrangement that this Abbé should go three times a week to Mr Story’s to give lessons for two hours to Edith Story (fifteen) and Penini, in Latin & arithmetic. We thought it a good plan for poor Pen, who requires a stronger hand than mine sometimes, & will be better for a little emulation. At first, he could not bear the idea of it—had eyes overflowing with tears, & told me in a moment of emotion throwing himself on my neck, that I was really “an ungrateful creature for not teaching him Latin myself.” (What Peni means by ingratitude I cant imagine– He is always attributing the sin to Annunciata ..) You see the idea of “a horrid old priest” was as dreadful to him as if he had been born & bred in the sacred precincts of Exeter Hall– All is turning out however beautifully. The horrid old priest is quite a young man, & very gentle & affectionate. He has taken a fancy to Pen, praises him, & gets him on, & makes him learn lessons which I should have been much worse than “an ungrateful creature” if I had attempted to inflict. Pen has already learnt six lines of the multiplication-table (which he says in French) and the whole of the Latin declensions—learnt them thoroughly so as to bear dodging. He learns & writes out: it is a good system. Then sums in simple addition are mastered even now. When he came he did’nt know 6 from 9 .. which was my fault, not his. And you are not to fancy that he has been unmanageable lately, so as to necessitate another teacher. On the contrary. He had improved in teachableness: but still, the time had come to take up the Latin, we thought, and also to urge him on to more work by an exterior hand. Pen had learnt too much, leaning on my shoulder– I have fed him intellectually with a spoon: & though this method had brought him on, yet it had not taught him to get on. Self-exertion is a part of health, you see. Also I have work of my own which nobody can do for me– Therefore it seemed wise to use our opportunity, & I think it will be a success. Pen puts out the greatest zeal in preparing his lessons, & likes his new friend extremely—calls him “a most gentlemanly man.”—in fact is perfectly consoled. The Abbé was much struck by his beautiful Italian—said, it was “tutta la delicatezza Fiorentina” [8] —which was satisfactory to hear. So much pleased is Pen, on his side, that he begged us to let him have his Abbé a fourth time in the week, so as to learn Geography, & to write French & Italian with him– We consented—and there has been one lesson, when in respect to the capitals of Europe, something was said of Vienna. Seeing a certain expression, I suppose, in Pen’s face, the Abbé observed, “È una bella città”– [9] On which Peni could not restrain himself—& exclaimed—“Belle case, forse! ma per l’onore, no.” [10] The Abbé could not help smiling. Little Pen is very fierce upon politics– He said to me yesterday, “I hope Austria wont sell Venetia, mama.” “And why not pray,” I asked– “Because then people will say, the Italians fight with money– Now I want real fighting,—with guns–” There’s a Pen for you! Does’nt he do me credit, Arabel? How I should like you to hear him play. It is really astonishing. That Schulhoff shows him off in his execution to the utmost, though the poor little hands might well drop off at the end, you would think. Robert will never hear of a difficulty being shrunk from– All those rapid running octaves are played—and at last the flames seem coming out of the child’s eyes with the passion of the strife of it. Our Abbè who had been praising a young daughter of General Guyon’s [11] for her music, wanted to hear Pen– Pen played wonderfully well– He was “determined” he told me, “to beat that little girl”– And our Abbé confessed that he had’nt expected to hear anything like it.
Peni always chooses, you know, what he will have at Christmas. This time he had resolved to put away childish things [12] & have no toys! instead, he would have “a microscope, to study nature”, and a “writing-book.” I applauded with both hands, but was unfortunate enough to send him to the toyshop to select some presents for various small friends of ours at Rome– Everybody gives gifts here at this time of year, & I assure you the expence of it is considerable. Well—Peni comes back with his mission accomplished. “But oh mama, I must tell you. When I saw that beautiful shop & all the people buying, I could’nt help thinking of the old things I was so happy with,—& the passionate love of them came back to me– I know it’s very foolish—but that’s the truth– I cant be energetic about the microscope any more– I cant help wanting that gun I saw–.” —I was very sorry– We had a long argument all in vain– “If I had one million ten thousand scudi given to me, I would take them and buy that gun with it: but if anyone offered me one million ten thousand scudi on the condition of not buying the gun, or the gun alone, I would rather have the gun alone. You see, mama, after all I’m not a man yet—I’m only a boy ..”!. Which was tolerably evident– So I yielded, & Robert upbraided me a little but paid the money—one pound English for a toy gun—really an extravagance. But the child could only be happy, after all, & it was not for us to choose how–
I have seen Mdme Braun once. She had the goodness to come & see me,—looking not ill, I thought, but with a feel in her face, when I kissed her—a want of elasticity in the flesh, which I did not like. The desease has grown again, & there is to be another cauterization after Christmas, which produces great suffering for four & twenty hours. I do pity her so very much. But she seems contented to be in Rome– “At any rate” said she, laughing, “I shall have the satisfaction of dying here.” And then she keeps heart & hope as to the issue, after all. She did not speak much of England, .. expressing only the most lively pleasure to get away in spite of the kindness of friends– “To feel,” said she, “that for every chair you sate down on you were obliged to somebody.” Here, she has “escaped from dependence.” Also it is Rome– People who have lived in Italy find it scarcely possible to live in England afterwards—that is true. But I dare say she had some peculiar trials.
I want to hear of Altham & how he gets on at school, & whether he & dearest Henrietta have grown to be happy again. I hope he has ceased to be grave– Henrietta spoke to me of his gravity, poor pet– And if he is grave, what must she be?–
Odo Russell has brought out from England the Knickerbocker trowsers– [13] Very full—quite Turkish—& gathered together at the knees. He says that Prince Albert wears nothing else in the country—even rides with them—& that it is the great ‘mode’ with you—even beginning to appear in London– (I suppose Mr Stratten has not adopted them yet–) They must put Pen into fashion, it seems to me—though Pen’s trowsers are not fastened at the knees: & I shall be glad of any change towards the picturesque in man’s costume. Mr Russell says too, that the use of beard & moustache begins to be law at the top of English society. Do our brothers yield? Robert wears both now, & it is becoming.
Think of me in my Paris jacket still—with the red flannel. But I have a dress with waistcoats to wear, in change– How shall I hold you in my eyes? Dear dearest, my very heart goes to you on this Xmas Day. May the God of it for His work’s sake love you all & be with you always. My own own Arabel’s devoted Ba.
I have an exhort[at]ory letter on spirits & politics from Mary Hunter, dated Paris.
Mind you speak in detail of yourself when you write, and also of George. Robert is not in the house or would send his dear love, or write rather. But I wont keep this letter. Love to dear Minny. Did I tell you that Wilson has thirty pounds a year for her care of Mr Landor.
Address: Angleterre. / Miss Moulton Barrett / 7. Delamere Terrace / Harrow Road / London.
Publication: EBB-AB, II, 437–442.
Manuscript: Gordon E. Moulton-Barrett.
1. Year provided by postmark.
3. Cf. Richard II, I, 3, 271–274.
5. Cf. Byron, “The Prisoner of Chillon” (1816), line 1.
7. Sic, for Goyon’s; see letter 4396, note 10.
8. “Complete Florentine fineness.”
9. “It’s a beautiful city.”
10. “Beautiful houses, perhaps! but not for honour.”
11. Doubtless, EBB has in mind Léon Valérien, Comte de Nouë (1805–85), who was second in command of the French garrison in Rome. He and his wife, Marie Clémentine, Comtesse de Nouë (née Toché, d. 1887, aged 68), are listed in the Brownings’ address book of this period (AB-4) at Palazzo Simonetti near the Corso. Their only daughter, Bonne Marie Christine (1850–1940), was nine years old at this time. General Goyon’s daughters were in their twenties.
12. Cf. I Corinthians 13:11.
13. Later known as “plus fours,” they took their name from “their resemblance to the knee-breeches of the Dutchmen in Cruikshank’s illustrations to W. Irving’s History of New York” (OED). Odo Russell’s interest in fashion was not limited to men’s clothing; he “was much appreciated … for presenting the Roman ladies with the latest thing in hats sent out by his orders from London” (The Roman Question, ed. Noel Blakiston, 1962, p. xiii).
___________________
