4885. EBB to George Goodin Moulton-Barrett
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 29, 99–103.
[Rome]
[Postmark: 30 April 1861]
My ever dearest George, Indeed you mistake if you suppose we supposed .. or suspect we suspected .. no, indeed! You spoke of course as to the point of law, or result of a legal expression—and I, for my part, said so much because I wanted you to see and understand that the serious objection to making a certain knot stronger, was at least as much mine as Robert’s .. in fact, even more mine than Robert’s– I hope Sir Joseph Arno[u]ld will be good-natured for old friendship’s sake, & that we shall not <have had our pain for nou>ght, or rather for a good deal worse than nought– It is a great convenience in many ways to have our chief resources in Tuscany, and although we look disturbed at a distance, we feel very safe—also I would rather pay for a war for Venetia than for fortresses on the Thames, if the question falls into the alternative–
My dearest dear George, I thank you for all your cordial words—better to me than if said of me– You are very kind, very generous,—& we will use you, & not abuse you, whenever your valuable services can be made available.
Only you wont come to France. You cant afford it? Ah George, when you say such a word, it does not reconcile me to your beautiful new house so high up that nobody can get at you. The first thing people do with liberty seems to me to tie themselves up to a post. I thought when you gave up the bondage of the law, [1] you meant to come to Italy, where you have never been, & see us a little– And you cant even come to Fontainbleau– Arabel too says that though she will come to Fontainbleau, she wont come to Italy .. which all turns me to a black humour. Well—I dont give it up– There is time for teazing & converting her– Just now it is enough for me to gather together my courage for the journey to France—which seems to me very, very far. I feel more fit for going to Heaven sometimes—and yet there’s great lacking of qualification for that even, let me say, hastening to agree with my friends. It is’nt merely or so much the bodily effort. I am stronger, & have been out driving several times—went to see Mr Story’s new statue of the African Sybil .. a very great work. Pleasant, to see men grow so perceptibly—& I never supposed him equal to this height.
We go to Florence in the latter part of May—& shall remain to rest there. Three months in France will be enough, I fancy,—two in the country, one perhaps (at the end), in the city. But I keep it out of my head– I should prefer vegetating here in Italy among the hills– I am really fitter for it in body & soul—only there’s a clear duty in the case.
Work, work, work—is the best we can get at in this world, [2] we sons & daughters of men. I keep on sending to America, lyrics on Italian subjects .. with all drawbacks– For five or six, in this dreary spring, there are a hundred pounds for result,—which considering the expenses I cause, is no more than I owe our household: & the advantage is that these poems are left to the English public as fresh as manuscripts–
All these Italian poems are about to be translated I believe by my friend Dell’Ongaro, the Venetian poet– He is a poet, but has the disadvantage of not understanding much English– So I shall translate the text literally into Italian, line by line—which will give me some pedestrian work (as opposed to the flying imagination) this summer—that is, if we keep to our plan. It seems to please Dall’Ongaro so far, & does not displease me. He is very competent as far as lyrical command of his own language goes—& I am the more inclined to him, as I have heard of a Sicilian poetess (of very unequal power of course) attempting the same thing. [3]
Dearest dear George, your house must be very pretty, though you hang me up in it. [4] That’s kind– Have you books enough? Do you subscribe to Mudie?— Do you take in many papers? You will see that our Garibaldi has been Garibaldizing a little in the Chambers, [5] —but that it is over now, & he & Cavour are reconciled– I thank God
<…> [6]
coaxed it out of his father.
He has got up .. what he calls a “sort of interest” .. (when accused of a love-affair ..) towards the pretty sad queen of Naples, who shakes her parasol at him & admires his poney– She is very pretty, & Pen’s politics swerved under a distinct compliment to the “bellino cavallino [7] .. swerved enough to admit of his galloping after her carriage on the Pincio, &, calling her, “Oh, so pretty, mama, much prettier than your photograph of her”–! [8] ——
Pen is getting on with his Latin & will find his Abbé here next winter, when our plan is to return. Then, he is to begin Greek too– He sleeps in my room still, & says “Good night, darling,” before he goes to sleep—but all this must end as other sweet things do, for he is twelve years old, & fencing & sleeping in “mama’s room,” dont go well together. He looks younger than he is, with the same infantine face—and yet he grows both tall & fat together .. which is satisfactory. The Duchess de Grammont (French ambassadress) has just sent him a card for her “Matinée d’enfants” [9] which is to be something magnificent– Robert will go with him for escort, & come away when he’s tired.
Have you seen Dear Mr Martin’s photograph which they had the goodness to send me? It gave me a true pleasure. The likeness is perfect—and what extraordinary youthfulness!– Looking back to the beginning of time I really see little difference between what he was & is. It is most remarkable. And these photographs spare no man in their scrupulous veracity,—no man, nor (which is worse!) woman, George!
Have you any society near you,—anybody you can talk with, exchanging thoughts as well as words? The worst of those country places is, that even if you get, by good luck, intelligent neighbours, you miss the new intellectual blood,—the fluctuant society with which (under obvious disadvantages) you yet arrive at fresh openings into civilization. Here, in Rome, the river passes,—& very interesting people from all countries are met by turns– This winter of course I have seen nobody except such as made their way up these stairs for a morning visit, .. though Robert has been out a good deal– Among the persons most interesting to me, who came to see me, has been, Mr Severn, the new English consul, who was here with Keats, you remember, & in whose arms the poet died– I make him tell me the most minute details,—some very painful– Keats revolted against death, on that deeply tragic ground (always so affecting to me as an artist) of his gift being undevelopped in him—of having a work to do in his right hand, which he must let fall. “In ten years,” said he, “I should be a great ‘poet’—and now, I have not even philosophy enough to die by–”
There would be no answer to such “divine despairs,” [10] if it were not in these facts in which I deeply believe, that life and work, yes, the sort of work suitable to the artist-nature, are continued on the outside of this crust of mortal manhood, & that the man will be permitted to complete himself, if not here, there. Mr Severn is a simple man—who wont be distinguished much as a consul, I fancy. The other person I liked to see, & wanted to see more of, was Sir John Bowring. He brought a letter of introduction to me– Both in poetry & politics we had sympathies. But, poor man, after one visit here, he had an attack of illness, & was suspended between life & death for weeks, till he was carried away the other day at considerable risk to Civita Vecchia on his way to the north. He had a mission from the English government to Turin, on commercial affairs, & meant to do his best to get there– Lady Bowring [11] came the last day to tell me how disappointed he was in having our intercourse cut short .. and I [12] was,—very much! There were various points on which I wanted to hear him talk. He suffers the reproach of having drawn us into a bad war with China [13] —but he is a man of excellent sympathies, & very advanced opinions. Knowing Napoleon well by personal relation, I should have liked you to hear him talk on that ‘Head.’ Napoleon is perfectly misconceived of, he told me, in England—the emperor was thoroughly liberal in his views, & only desired to give liberty, & to be the occasion of giving it, at the least cost of instability of institutions– Frank & loyal he (Bowring) believed Napoleon to be—& full of great ideas for the world.
It is my view– The fault I find with the emperor is, that he conceives himself to be immortal—he calculates on having too much time. He was really regretful of the hurried invasion of the Neapolitan States by Garibaldi, & of the intervention of Piedmont .. though (as a necessity he certainly admitted both) while diplomatical arrangements between Francis II & Victor Emmanuel were going on. He wanted to wait for six-months. Hence, the term “unjust aggression” in his letter to Francis. [14] Also he has protracted the situation here, and other Italian “situations,” .. to avoid convulsion & dangers from without– Hitherto all has ended well—but he was wrong in calculating on his own life so surely– If either he or Cavour had died suddenly within the last year or so, all would have ended for Italy—the event would have been awful–
Our dear Storm wrote a precious little note to me before leaving England,—& I shall be much smoothed down at hearing of his safe arrival in Jamaica–
May God bless you, my dearest George. I hope your headaches have left you with the Law. Penini’s love with mine–
And I am yours in truest
gratefullest love–
Ba–
Address: Angleterre– / George G Moulton Barrett Esqre / Warnicombe House / Near Tiverton.
Publication: B-GB, pp. 257–262.
Manuscript: Pierpont Morgan Library.
1. EBB may have in mind Luther’s commentary on Galatians 5:1—“Wherefore, there is no greater or harder bondage than the bondage of the law” (A Commentary on St. Paul’s Epistle to the Galatians, Philadelphia, 1860, p. 527).
2. Cf. Aurora Leigh, III, 161–162: “… Get leave to work / In this world—’tis the best you get at all.”
3. Unidentified. In letter 4868, EBB refers to her as a “young lady of twenty.”
4. Presumably a photograph, by James Anderson, Rome, of Field Talfourd’s 1859 portrait of EBB. The one she sent to Henrietta, which measures approximately 6 x 9 inches, is now at ABL/Altham (see Reconstruction, F36).
6. Two pages are missing.
7. “Pretty pony.”
8. A carte-de-visite in EBB’s album; it is reproduced in vol. 28, p. 391.
9. “Afternoon party for children.”
10. Cf. Tennyson: “Tears, Idle Tears” (The Princess, 1847), line 2.
11. Deborah Bowring (née Castle, 1816–1902), daughter of Thomas Castle (1767–1827) and his wife, Mary (née Morgan, 1781–1856). She married John Bowring, as his second wife, on 8 November 1860.
12. Underscored twice.
13. The “reproach” was the vote of censure, “moved in both houses of parliament,” for his role in the Second Opium War (ODNB). See also letter 3986, note 14.
14. We have been unable to trace this letter.
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