4790. RB to Arabella Moulton-Barrett
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 28, 240–241.
Rome, Via Felice 126.
Dec. 5. ’60.
Dearest Arabel,—Ba is now trying to write to you, but I thought it would be of some use to tell you myself how she is. (You received, I hope, my letter of two days ago—one for George was sent on to Stoke Ct, where he may not have been when it reached)[.] [1] She is really better than I hoped, on the whole. I will not say you don’t know what she has endured all the summer, because you do know,—and all your proceedings in communicating or with[h]olding ill news have been perfect in kindness and considerateness—but the calamity had to be announced, after all, and gradually so as to spare Ba the worst shock possible,—and she has suffered no more than was inevitable,—but that was just as much as she could bear. She came from Rome in amended health, and I supposed that our stay at Siena would reestablish it completely: but the shadow fell on her, the moment we arrived—and, I don’t know why,—she anticipated this end from the beginning. She could not eat, nor read, nor write—would not go out: our plan had been to take daily drives, but she only left the house thrice (if I remember) during our three months’ stay– She would sometimes go down stairs and sit on the grass under a tree just by the house [2] —that was all—and every morning brought the anxiety about letters. I used to have to waylay the servant in the lane, and apprise her myself of the substance of anything that might have arrived. There was some hope afterward,—and she recovered a very little—but I felt that we must go to Rome—then came the end—and had it been much longer protracted I do not believe she could have endured it. The journey, with the impossibility of bad news reaching her for a week, the change of scene, and favorable weather have been invaluable. The last blow has been softened by all this—and poignant as her grief is and will long be I do not anticipate any danger now,—if you, dearest Arabel, do not give us more apprehension. I have the greatest difficulty in getting her to touch food—and she is thinner than I ever remember her—but she is good & docile in intention, on the whole, and suffers me to direct her in these matters: she has got up to day, and is better, much, than yesterday—with less of the silent, stony sort of insensibility and more relief from tears. God bless her.
You see I say most about what lies immediately before us—about the Living. Dearest Henrietta is Living, I trust, in even a truer sense of the word—relieved from pain now: there is much alleviation in considering that loveable & loving, happy, good and Christian life,—which is now extended & enlarged—& which would have been more than useless,—the worst of miseries, apparently, had not God in truest mercy chosen to end the trial at once,—allowing her every assistance that entire affection like yours and her other dear ones have been priveleged to manifest.
You must write to Ba– Why should I not say to us—dearest sister—constantly: you must continue to do your duty to those who now stand most urgently in need of it,—and must take care of your health—so precious to many,—so absolutely necessary to Ba. Give my kindest love to George—& others who may remember me. Poor Surtees, too—and the little things that do not imagine their loss!
You will like to know we are in very good, warm airy rooms—that Pen is particularly well. This is all scribbled in utmost haste, but you will understand & forgive
Ever, dearest Arabel, Your’s affectionately
Robert Browning.
Publication: EBB-AB, II, 503–504.
Manuscript: Gordon E. Moulton-Barrett.
1. With the exception of EBB and Septimus, Henrietta’s surviving siblings were at her burial in Thurlbear Parish churchyard on 30 November. George remained until 15 December, and the others departed on 1 December, Arabella taking her nephew Edward Cook (see Surtees, 30 November, 1 December, and 15 December 1860).
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