5162. RB to William Wetmore Story, Emelyn Story & Edith Story
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 30, 181–183.
19. Warwick Crescent, Harrow Road.
Jan: 18. ’63
Dearest Friends,
Long as the time is, since I have written, the fault cannot have been mine, that I know. When you left, the run of ill-luck in letters, appointments & so on, was extraordinary. Mrs Sturgis’ [1] invitation, which I had made up my mind to accept, came too late—a quarter of an hour before the last starting of the train, which it would have taken an hour to reach: your own letter apprising us of the going away next morning came also too late: but I hardly regret this last, as such partings are no good. Well, I could tell you nothing, you know, and you would not tell us whether you were alive or dead, for ever so long, till one day a dear letter from Edie was sent from Walton, [2] nearly a month after date: this was followed by a second better (because longer) than the first, and it reached us as swiftly as surely: but, lo—the courier on whom I counted for the carriage of the little book [3] she was good enough to want, set off in a hurry for some reason, at a few hours notice, and I had nothing to do but wait for the next. Here is the book for her, with more love than should go with so little a thing, and true thanks for what I was allowed to see in her letter when Pen had done with it—which was not at once. Now let me go to another matter: a month ago, at least, I received one evening the proofs, five or six, of the “Evil eye” with a note from the Printer to Chapman, [4] saying that there were duplicate passages, and other “difficulties” and that they could not proceed—& another from Chapman to myself, adding that he had just got a telegram from you urging the immediate publication of the book, and asking me to help: I supposed that for some reason, probably connected with republishing in America, you were in some sort of Author’s fix—so did the business at a sitting,—that is, I corrected English, Latin & Greek, suppressed two repetitions of passages, and otherwise did the needful, and carried the proofs to Chapman first thing next morning: but had I known that after all there would be the delay of another month or more, I should have taken my time, and made sure that no error escaped me—which at present I can only hope: another thing—of the Greek quotations, some few were partially accented, the rest not—and, under the pressure of time (or the lack of it) I thought it safest to remove all accents, as the regulation of them is a ticklish business: as to the references, I could not of course attempt to verify them, though I changed one or two,—(the wrong Idyll of Theocritus &c.) Chapman tells me, you have been good enough to destine a copy to me,—thank you heartily for it,—but as it is not yet here, I cannot see what is done or undone,—but the sum of it all is, that I fancied you were in an emergency, and that the thing must be got out of hand at once: with a single day’s leisure I should have done better work, though not with a better will.
I go every now & then to Lady W’s, and hear if there is any thing to hear: she seems to me tolerably well, though she complains greatly of pain, and makes no effort to walk—there can hardly be any great improvement expected: [5] but her good spirits and great cleverness are remarkable as ever. I met at her house a Mr Grey [6] who had seen you, & spent a pleasant evening with you. But I can’t chronicle all these people that come & go before me, and whose very names I forget next day: why do I like so much to hear gossip from you and fancy that London news can no more interest you than it does me? You throw bits of porphyry & marble pavement from Rome, and I have only London mud, that’s the fact. Give my true love to all Roman friends—the Perkins, Bruens: the Lockers, Hatty, Miss Cushman. I cannot say I am dull here—I work, or, at least, am employed all day long. Pen is growing a great fellow, and a dear good boy besides: I am much satisfied with him. He rows every day almost, and capitally,—rides too, though the pony is getting little indeed: I believe I have done the best for him. Now I shall leave off: do you, Mrs Story, you, William, & you Edie, remember me whenever half an hour is disposable, and set it down with charities and almsgiving. Story is of course getting on with his Saul [7] —if it isn’t the grand thing we expect, shan’t he catch it! Tell all about the Boys, & yourselves & your neighbours and be sure of the affectionate gratitude of yours ever
R Browning.
Publication: BAF, pp. 112–115.
Manuscript: Yale University.
1. Julia Overing Sturgis (née Bolt, 1822–88), third wife of Russell Sturgis (see letter 5104, note 1).
2. The Sturgises lived at Walton on Thames in Mount Felix, an Italianate mansion designed by Charles Barry (1795–1860).
3. Selections from the Poetical Works of Robert Browning (1863). This presentation copy to Edith Story has not surfaced.
4. RB refers to Story’s Roba di Roma (2 vols., 1863), which was issued by Chapman and Hall on 7 January. A passage about the “Evil eye” appears in the second volume (see letter 5111).
5. From the injuries Lady William Russell sustained in a carriage accident (see letter 5013, note 24).
6. Unidentified.
7. Inspired by a passage in Samuel 16:14–15, this statue in marble depicts Saul on his throne with one hand at his beard and the other feeling for his dagger. It was acquired by Francis Henry Goldsmid (1808–78); see letter from RB to the Storys, 11 April 1865, ms at KS. “Saul” is now in the possession of the North Carolina Museum of Art, Raleigh.
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