5769. RB to Robert Barrett Browning
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 32, 91–92.
151. Rue de Grenelle, Faubg St Gn
Wednesday, 2½ p.m. [13 June 1866] [1]
Dearest Pen, Indeed there was no use in sending a telegram, it could have told you nothing: Sarianna & Milsand both thought so. I can now give you the account, impossible before. I arrived at 8. a.m. & found Sarianna on the staircase waiting me—she and Made Louis [2] had made certain that I could not arrive in time, and I thought at first Nonno would pass away without knowing me, and in a few minutes <for he was in a kind of convulsion-fit, and insensible—> [3] —however he recovered presently, and knew me and spoke like his old self. He is in all probability dying—from mere exhaustion caused by excessive loss of blood: there is an internal tumour, though of what nature the doctors differ,—for there was a consultation with the first surgeon of the Hôtel Dieu, [4] —in any case there is the fatal thing. Yesterday both doctors said he might die any minute, or linger on some days, but the end would be the same. He told me, with just the usual air, that he was perfectly happy—and seemed to wonder that we saw anything to grieve about: he is in the full possession of his senses, and every now and then asks Sarianna to read a chapter in the Bible to him—mentioning the particular one, and what verses he wishes to hear. He is in the most complete peace of mind, and as unconcerned about death as if it were a mere walk into the next room. He told Sarianna yesterday that this was dying, and that he had no sort of doubt as to his future state, “having the promise of One who cannot lie”– [5] Consequently he never has even enquired what were the opinions of the doctors,—takes it all in his habitual entirely-confiding way. He says he does not suffer any pain, is quite comfortable. He wished Sarianna not to send for me,—could not see why she should: he said “You know I love him.” Sarianna said, “And Pen, you love him too?[”]—“Oh, don’t I! Give him my love.” Now, I have told you nearly all that there is to tell,—and I think,—as does Sarianna, & Milsand too, that you are far better spared the sight of poor Nonno’s prolonged passage into the other world; for tho’ I do not think he suffers much, yet it is sad indeed to see him lying for hours, half-insensible and breathing heavily, while we can do nothing but look on. At the same time, so extraordinary is his constitution that Dr Frébaut [6] told me he still had hopes,—there might be a recovery yet: I think it impossible,—nor wish to witness this lingering pain and weakness. Sarianna has been sitting up these last two nights, as has Mde L. —Now I shall take my turn. Dear Milsand stays here, too, all the day. I shall stay till the end, which cannot be very distant. Let me have the comfort of knowing, dearest, that you do your work well,—and act like a man in my absence. I will write to-morrow: you will write to me, I know. I beg you to take exercise, to row as usual, and to walk more than usual. Sarianna & Milsand send their true love to you,—you know what mine is, I think. Give my love to Arabel, & Ocky[.] I hope the boy [7] is better,—you must tell me[.]
God bless you ever, Dearest
RB
Publication: LRB, pp. 94–95.
Manuscript: British Library.
1. Date provided by RB’s references to the grave condition of his father, who died the next day, June 14th.
2. Mme. Louis Cormiolle, Sarianna’s housekeeper in Paris (see letter 3394, note 5).
3. Passage in angle brackets is interpolated.
4. Eugène Napoléon Vigla (1813–72), physician at the Hôtel Dieu hospital.
5. Cf. Titus 1:2.
6. Charles Félix Frébault (1825–1902), physician and politician.
7. Perhaps Charles Graham Moulton-Barrett (1861–1925), first-born son of Octavius Moulton-Barrett and his first wife, Charlotte.
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