4851. EBB to Arabella Moulton-Barrett
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 29, 21–25.
Rome– 126. Via Felice.
March 15. [1861] [1]
My ever beloved Arabel, we have your letter, darling,—Pen & I. I have my part in the joy– As to the photograph, it will be precious when it comes– But the letter before said you had not been well (before you went to Mrs Thorburn’s [2] ) and Tom Butler [3] has come to Rome for four days & I saw him once, & he told me that you were in bed for several days once—& I should have been very unhappy if it had’nt been for the dear brightening letter to Pen. Now you know, precious Arabel, you had said once or twice to me that though worn out & weakened you had not been ill– And to hear of your having been in bed sounds so unusual that it went to my heart with a knife’s point– Was it a grippe—or what? At least, are you pretty well now? Your dining with Mr & Mrs Stratten revived me a little– Dear, dear, you must not misunderstand me– I never meant to charge you with “gloom” .. no, indeed—nor to lecture you, not I. I forget what my letter was,—but I think I was speaking with a sort of bitterness at myself, feeling a little black at the moment perhaps– One writes at oneself sometimes naturally– I do when I write freely: and you know my settled opinion about gloom of all kinds .. that its one of the worst expressions of what is called the “old Adam,” [4] .. meaning simply that Self remains the centre to a man– The worst effect of affliction on unrenewed souls is to prevent their going out of themselves, & obeying that Divine Attraction [5] which frees them into the larger sphere of light & love. People in general are much better when they are happy, by a natural law even– So I suppose, in some moment of conscious blackness, I began to rail .... not at you my beloved, be very sure–
How right you were to go to poor Mrs Thorburn. I dare say you were glad afterwards– Little duties with their roots in grief, often blossom in a sweet smell. I have observed it–– Tell me of the Peytons– I am very, very sorry for them. [6]
Did I not tell you of my Pen? Well—perhaps I did’nt. Something somehow is apt to stick in my throat when I try to brag about my Pen now– He is rosy & well, I thank God .. “really too fat in the legs to be Ishmael,” as he observed of himself the other day. Did I tell you of his acting in certain “Tableaux” here, at the soirée of an English lady [7] who being very pretty & rather artistic has got up a series for her proper benefit. She begged Robert to let her have Peni—who, after a visit of rehearsal, returned to me in tears– He was to act Ishmael in the desert and appear without shoes & stockings, and really it was “too indecent”– However, he was persuaded—and as the lady of the house did the same,—(in fact the exaggeration has been all over Rome that she was “nude” up to the knees) he need not have been so scrupulous. There was an artist there accustomed to direct in theatrical matters of costume, & he said that none of the performers showed the intelligence of Pen– He was fainting on the ground, while the angel spoke to Hagar, & looked lovely, Robert said. Then he was a priest’s acolyte in a scene about St Valerius– Last night, there were more ‘tableaux,’ & Pen played Cupid asleep, to a very pretty little girl’s Psyche– He had a pair of wings. Robert says it was really beautiful. On Pen’s birthday he had a holiday & his little friend David Eckley to dine with him. The Eckleys are in Rome—but I have seen her only three times this winter. I am very cold—but there’s no quarrel. She asked me to forgive her– I said, .. If she had injured me it would be very easy for me to forgive—but what was impossible was to feel the same to a person in whom one had lost faith– I said it quite mildly. She asked me to kiss her & say God bless her—and I did both– Afterwards she conducted herself precisely as if nothing wrong was between us– The fact is (its horrible to say—but you know me & that I could’nt on such an occasion speak out of vanity) she wants to pass for being my friend, & would eat much dirt for that poor distinction. I never was more deceived in a woman. The least touch of real feeling, though expressed in a good honest fit of crossness would comparatively have saved her with me. But the calculating want of delicacy & sensibility are too disgusting to my whole nature. There’s a piece of scandal for you, my own Arabel. Shall we have one of our talks this summer, I wonder? Dearest, believe me in this– Nothing would be gained by my going to England. To move at all out of Italy is dreadful to me, I tell you sincerely– When I think of having to rub against certain friends of mine, & to hear loud talking, sets my head turning, makes my heart stop beating– But I was the cause of Robert’s not seeing his father last year, & I wont be so this year– Its like shutting one’s eyes to leap down a precipice, but I shall do it– I have been thinking by flashes (when the subject forced itself on me) that we might go for a few months to the forest of Fontainbleau, .. where the scenery is said to be full of picturesqueness & rocks, & where Mr Browning & Sarianna might meet us– Now if George would bring you, it would be good for you & good for me, .. & we might have a quiet summer, & not pay too dearly for a good deal of sitting under trees & driving in the forest– What do you say? My own precious Arabel, you will admit the pure reason of this proposition. Grant that I put away all lâcheté [8] & agreed to go to London into the glare of eyes of strangers .. & (what is much worse just now) friends. You would lose instead of gaining,—because change of air & scene would be excellent for you. And I should have my journey immensely lengthened, which is long for me as it is,—and our visit to poor Mr Browning abbreviated without a necessity. You see we cant wait in France till the cold begins, & we shall probably have to return here to Rome next winter, .. waiting for a few days or weeks at Florence to settle matters there. It would be only faithful (to oaths) and wise of you to return with us to Italy—indeed I shall count on that. But in the meantime you wont refuse to meet us at Fontainbleau. If we felt up to Paris at anytime we might take a run there– Now make up your mind. Ah—dearest Arabel .. you may guess what I should feel in going to England this year when I did not, go last– Be sympathetic as you are wont, my sweetest Arabel. (Have’nt I taken to coaxing?) In exchange you shall flatter me for Prince Napoleon’s speech [9] .. which delighted me .. I cant tell you how much.
Pen, on his birthday, had a book the “Semaine des Infants,” [10] and a pocket book full of instruments, and a ten shilling knife full of blades. He was very contented. He is not always attentive in his lessons, but, on the whole, gets on, & begin[s] to write Latin “con gusto” as M. l’Abbé says approvingly– This Abbé is certainly the most amiable of men. He smuggles into Rome through General de Nouè our Italian papers, & borrows “Debats” & “Moniteurs”– It was through him I read the seventeen columns of Prince N’s speech, in the Moniteur—which in Galignani was pitiably garbled– [11] A most magnificent discourse indeed. The Morning Chronicle falls into other hands [12] —so you must rescue Storm from it– In fact it has been on the descent for some time–
I am afraid I shall have to put Pen in long trowsers– What of the Knickerbockers? Do you counsel them?–
Tell me, dearest, of your new maid & if you like her. [13] Poor Annunziata is really very good. I see no fault in her—though Ferdinando persecutes her incessantly– As for work, she made all the wretched black for Pen & me [14] —& besides since we came here has made my nightgowns & trowsers, & relays of trowsers for Pen. She makes everything he wears, & much better than any taylor would– Then, at her own desire, since we have been here, she has done the whole of the ironing of the house,—for the two men servants & Robert (who never had his shirts so well done before, he says), house-linen, & my & her own clothes. (The washing was done out of the house of course– One pays very little for that.) If you wonder how, without a mangle, she can deal with sheets &c, you must learn that nobody mangles in Italy as far as I ever heard of. The iron finishes everything. She is an excellent servant, & has the fewest visible “followers’[’] .. am I to say?, .. of any maid I ever had. Sometimes a lady’s maid comes to see her,—but never a man .. I say this in justice– Her attention to me is affectionate even–
I have had some new visitors lately– Lord Byron’s grand-daughter .. Lady Annabella Noel [15] .. quiet & interresting—she is going to make a sketch of Pen’s poney, having a great talent for animal-drawing– Then Lady Marion Alford [16] came yesterday .. the Marquis of Northampton’s daughter– Very gracious, a little affected, .. posée a little in regard to art & literature, but to be liked I fear & think. She has taken a great fancy to Robert,—which is in her favor at least. Oh—I could write so much more! But the post! Robert upbraids me. His love– I love you, my darling[.] Write to me. Let me be easy about you– God love you–
Your Ba.
You never mention dear Minny. My love to her–
Address: Angleterre. / Miss Moulton Barrett / 7. Delamere Terrace / Harrow Road / London.
Publication: EBB-AB, II, 520–524.
Manuscript: Gordon E. Moulton-Barrett.
1. Year provided by postmark.
2. Mary Anne Thorburn (née Moulton, 1813–61), daughter of Robert Moulton, of Trelawney, Jamaica, and his wife, Martha (née Hodges). Her husband, Robert Thorburn (1800–88), was formerly minister of St. Andrews Presbyterian Kirk, Falmouth, Jamaica. Mrs. Thorburn's father was a brother of EBB’s paternal grandfather. She died on 22 February at 5 Clifton Road, Camden.
3. EBB’s cousin; see letter 2717, note 2.
4. For Swedenborg, the “old Adam” is a representation of Selfhood (or “proprium,” Swedenborg’s preferred term): “No one is regenerated without temptation; and many temptations have to be undergone in succession. For the object of regeneration is, that the life of the old Adam, or man, shall die, and that a new life which is heavenly shall be instilled in its place. Hence it may appear that there must be a combat at all hazards; for the life of the old Adam resists, and refuses to be put down; and the life of the new man cannot enter except the life of the old Adam be quenched” (Rudolph Leonhard Tafel, Swedenborg and the Doctrines of the New Church, 1889, pp. 261–262).
5. In Swedenborgian thought, the Divine Attraction is the soul’s inherent longing for love, goodness, and immortality. Without it, resurrection would be impossible.
6. Reynolds Peyton (1815–61) died at Barton Court on 1 January.
7. Mrs. Cholmeley (see letter 4838, note 8).
8. “Cowardice.”
10. La Semaine des Enfants, 4 (1860), a French annual for children with hundreds of illustrations. Inscribed by EBB: “From Mama to her darling Penini on his birthday—Robert Wiedemann Barrett Browning, Rome, March 9. 1861,” it sold as lot 1065 in Browning Collections (see Reconstruction, A1378).
13. Annie Sophia Brown had replaced Crispin as lady’s maid to Arabella. The census report of 7 April 1861 gives her age as 21 years and place of birth as Tunbridge Wells, Kent.
14. i.e., the mourning clothes worn for Henrietta’s death.
15. Anne Isabella Noel King (afterwards Blunt, 1837–1917). Her drawing of Pen’s pony, if ever completed, has not surfaced.
16. Marian Margaret, Viscountess Alford (née Compton, 1817–88), daughter of the 2nd Marquess of Northampton (1790–1851) and widow of John Hume, Viscount Alford (1812–51), whom she had married in 1841.
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