4995. RB to Julia Martin
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 30, 2–4.
1. Chichester Road, Upper Westbourne Terrace.
Dec. 10. ’61.
My dear Mrs Martin,
I had at the beginning almost a repugnance to write the few poor words possible to you & Mr Martin—with so much that should be said, & such affection as yours waiting for them. One day, if it may be, I will try & tell you a little how all took place & with what circumstances of God’s mercy. I ought, indeed, to with[h]old from those who loved her nothing of what has been my own sustainment & comfort– Meantime, feel sure that, conceding there was to be this loss, it could never have fallen more gently: so that as I go over again & again the last days & hours & minutes in my mind, I cannot see one which should have been altered for her sake, or for mine, had I the power to wish it away. I say this because your kindness may only consider my loss,—whereas it is in a sense as no loss when I think of the miserable aggravation which might have accompanied it,—which I hear of in every day cases,—which hardly could have been wanting in some degree, you would think! But there was no pain, no sense of separation from us, and the love brightest at the last of all. [1]
You know, I have so much to do in directly carrying out her dearest wishes that nothing is more precious to me than my own life for years to come. There is her child to educate & establish in life—& I find England the only proper place for that: I shall live here, therefore. You would hardly expect he has grown into so strong & healthy a boy—he is good & dear in every thing—other people than myself say so. I am uncertain still about what I shall do immediately with him: I should secure certain advantages by sending him to Eton—but lose so many, that I am almost resolved on keeping him with me till he goes to College. I speak on very sufficient authority, having been at pains to obtain the best, & from various quarters. Pen is an eminently social boy, fond of companionship, emulative, quite bold & disposed to stand by himself: but we began his education in a certain way prescribed by the necessities of a foreign residence; and he possesses not a few accomplishments already which I can hardly bring myself to give up for “latin verse & composition which they cultivate exclusively at Eton”: he knows, for instance, very adequately for a boy of 12 & a half, Italian, French & German; plays really remarkably on the piano, draws just as promisingly, & is wanting to cultivate other tastes– “Ah, well—you must give this all up for the next few years!” say my authorities. You see, it was our plan to begin first with modern languages & give the more abstract process of learning Greek & Latin to the later years of youth: he began latin, accordingly, only a year ago, and made corresponding progress in it: but Greek is untouched yet. “Never mind” says an adviser “let him apply exclusively to these two languages for the next year & a half, and he will be easily qualified for the upper forms at Eton.”—“And in case I demur to giving up the gains of a good deal of trouble, and choose to go on with the old course, only adding your Greek & latin (versifying & all) but spreading it out thro’ a longer period than you give me, and so depositing him eventually at the University with what we want added to what they want,—if he has Tutors at home, how then?–” What do you suppose was the answer?– “In that case, he will certainly be so far a-head of youths of his own standing that the effect will be detrimental—he cannot but look down on them, & they as probably will dislike him!” I don’t think there is so much danger on that score as to overbalance the positive disadvantages of the other way. How do you incline? I can’t help telling you what at present interests me almost exclusively. I intend him moreover, you must know (& not smile) for a diplomatist—his mother’s ambition for him: his temper, facility of acquisition, and other qualities go easily in such a direction—&, without counting on very much of friends’ offered service, such service is offered me and may be of use—but I trust more to Pen’s own power & character, & to my own endeavours to do justice to both, when I have done with him, I shall, I suppose, have done with myself. Well,—there is only to add, that we are a few doors from Arabel, whose perfect goodness is invaluable to me. She is in better health, & in all likelihood the more comforted that she can be of such daily comfort to us. Poor Octavius Barrett [2] is staying with her, & Surtees Cook arrived last night on a visit.
When I see you—for I shall, in Summer, let me hope,—I have a photograph for you, too precious to go by the Post—it was taken on the 27th of May, and is (to me) as nearly perfect as such a thing can be: [3] there is put aside for you also a photograph of poor Casa Guidi, the sitting-room, [4] as we knew it for fourteen years: also, Pen on his pony (the same he rides still). [5]
In the return of things, this could only be the egotistical letter it has proved—but you & Mr Martin will understand & forgive. Now I remember our feelings about you when your letters came to us at Pisa, fifteen years ago, when we wanted them most! You have always been & will always be the dear friends of that time of especial need of friendliness: I re-read those letters just before leaving Florence: she had kept them carefully.
God bless you. Yours affectionately & gratefully
Robert Browning.
Publication: None traced.
Manuscript: Armstrong Browning Library.
1. RB refers to the death of EBB in the early morning of 29 June 1861. His fullest description of her final illness, death, and burial was sent to Sarianna in letter 4921.
2. Whose wife, Charlotte, and new-born child, Francis Altham Harry, died two months before (see letter 4972, note 1).
3. This photograph is reproduced as variant B in vol. 29, facing p. 176.
4. A photograph of the oil painting by George Mignaty. The painting is reproduced as the frontispiece to vol. 29.
5. Reproduced in vol. 29, facing p. 177.
___________________
