5947. RB to Isa Blagden
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 32, 233–237.
19. W. C.
July 19. ’67.
Dearest Isa,
First, as foolishest, will you be good enough to put no M. A. at the end of my name,—unless as a joke, which I don’t mind. I have been very pleased, in a way, with the occurrence, because it was purely the Dons’ own doing, under the gentle spur of a requisition very plentifully signed,—and is no sort of honorary nonsense but a real advantage (to whoever is disposed to use it, which I don’t tell you that I am) and an out of the way proceeding—since, except a few royal people, nobody has had the distinction these hundred years and more, except the Duke of Wellington in 1814. Dr Johnson don’t count, as he had previously belonged to the University and, was only prevented taking the degree by circumstances. [1] The D. C. L. (which it was originally proposed to give me) is a mere honor, conferring no privelege whatever: whereas I am now member of the Congregation & Convocation, with a vote for the University, and eligible to any good thing in the same, tenable by a Layman: for instance, any college may elect me a fellow next Term. [2] Well, the good of this to Pen is, that it gives me a natural right to come down to Oxford every now and then, nominally to vote against Dr Pusey, [3] really to see what the said Pen is about,—and renders it easy that I should know more than would be otherwise possible for the next three or four years. That’s all, but that’s enough. I got my Diploma last week, wherein I am prettily complimented on the “remarkable sweetness of my verses,” among other things—and have duly answered it in as pretty a Latin letter, I’ll have you to know.
Next, I wrote to Lytton and am answered that “The name of the Paris aurist is Turnbull, Dr Turnbull, an Englishman, tho’ he lives in Paris,—I don’t know his precise address, but will send it you the next time I see my father.” Tell this to Mr Trollope, and it will be quite sufficient indication,—he may make inquiries, if you write in time, before he gets to London: if he wants it, I will send the address when I get it to Ampthill Square. [4] The said Lytton is suffering, or was, last week, from the results of an operation, which was successful, but left him in a feverish state, preventing him from going to his post, & so on: you know probably by the papers that his wife gave birth to a daughter a few weeks ago. I saw her the other day—very pleasing, and perhaps pretty to some eyes. Her sister, Mrs Locke, [5] is prettier, I think, but very like. I was sitting opposite him (and by Mrs Locke) at dinner when my neighbour began “Did not you know poor Marguerite Power? [6] She is dead at last, out of her pain.” I said “Speak low, if you please.” He is going to publish two volumes of new poetry, after his “works”—next year, I suppose. He is prodigiously discontented with Chapman,—which I can’t explain, if the loan, or gift, which Chapman boasted about to you, was made to him, as you fancied. I need not say, it is a matter in which I have not the remotest interest. I have not seen Chapman since that decisive business: I am sorry for him, but my mind is made up.
Do you hear anything about the trial of Mr Hume which is coming on? [7] I dined this day week at Stanley’s and met the Dean of Christchurch [8] who is a near relation of Mrs Lyon, [9] —I think he said, her brother in law,—and interested greatly in the result. He told me all the rascality of Hume, and how his own incredible stupidity as well as greediness wrought his downfall in the foolish old soul’s estimation. Next day I saw James, [10] the Counsel in the case,—who told me that, by some oversight, they were unable to get at once the warrant to arrest Hume,—had to prepare a fresh affidavit—and could only act on it two or three days after the application to the Judge which, if it had reached Humes knowledge, would have let him escape: but “the spirits” said James “told him” nothing and the sheriff’s officer arrested him at a snug evening party—threw him into prison,—and only let him out on condition of his giving up all the deeds, papers &c to be used in the case. He will be tried “for getting money under false pretences,”—pretending he was inspired by a spirit when there was none. He says—the transaction took place before spiritualism was mentioned at all!—but it so happens, that an old servant, [11] with commendable sagacity, thinking he and his respectable associates S. C. Hall [12] & Wilkinson [13] (who have both got pretty pickings out of the plunder) could be after no good with her mistress, listened at the keyhole, and heard all the proceedings. Hume wanted in the first place to marry Mrs Lyon, James says. There’s a misfortune for dear Miss Hayes, Mrs Milner Gibson, [14] and such like vermin! Yet I am going to dine to-night at the house of a lady of rank who believes implicitly in a medium-girl [15] who “darkens the room, and then brings a shower of bouquets down from heaven all over the table,”—(heaven, probably, being underneath her own petticoats, which, I imagine, they don’t search previous to the performance.) How much more picturesque and honest was the exhibition of Mrs Clara Hoyt, [16] as described to me by an eye-witness,—did I ever tell you that? Yes, I think.
Well, Isa, I go away in a few days to that wild attractive place where we were last year: I want to start next Thursday, stay a few days at Paris for the Exhibition, [17] then go and be salted and solitary for two months: Mrs Bracken & Willy go by the sea to St Malo—and Miss Smith [18] follows in a little time—each of us going to the same house as before,—we have taken the old Maison Du Bochet we liked so much. Direct next time, therefore, to RB. “Au Croisic, Loire Inférieure, France”: pray take care, and don’t disappoint me, where I should feel such a disappointment particularly. I shall take my poem with me, and get it ready, I hope, to go to press next Oct. or November. I am glad you like the Bagni so well. If you have Annette, as you expect, give her my best love & tell her I never forget our old rides & walks and talks: I have plenty of new lady-acquaintances, some of them attractive enough, but I don’t get intimate with any of them. A fortnight ago, I was talking about Rubinstein [19] (he is a marvelous player, beyond what I remember of Liszt, and immeasurably superior to everybody else)—a lady said “And now it is too late to hear him.” I said, “No—I know he will be playing at Erard’s, [20] quite alone, this afternoon,”—“Will you take me?” “And me” said one sister, “and me” said a third. So we all started: and I think Rubenstein was a little surprised as they sailed in,—the three loveliest women in London, perhaps—one being incomparable. He played divinely. Now, they all pet me, you must know, and yet, when I handed them into their carriage again, I made an excuse about wanting to go elsewhere, rather than accompany them farther. Yet I would gladly ride with Annette once more up to the little old ruined chapel, by the bridge, [21] —she may remember,—where we took shelter in a thunderstorm. This is because she is part of the Past, while Ladies This, that & the other, are of this present time which wearies me—yet you think I shall never leave London. Wait & see, my beloved snake! [22] By the way, in the new poems of Mat. Arnold just coming out, he has re-placed “Empedocles,” [23] he tells me, with a note saying that it is all thro’ my desire it should not be withdrawn: I am really flattered by that.
Good bye, dearest Isa,—I must go—having plenty to do this morning. Write me a good long letter. Do you make excursions,—climb to the villages on the top of the hills? I thought Professor Campbell would miss you,—I dare say my letters never reached him, or rather were sent after him. It was to oblige Jowett that I stirred in the matter. How is poor Cottrell? I can’t sell his picture, [24] do what I will.
Ever affectionately yours, Robert Browning.
Publication: DI, pp. 271–276.
Manuscript: R.H. Taylor Collection.
3. Edward Bouverie Pusey (1800–82); see letter 803, note 2.
4. i.e., to the home of Ellen Ternan (1839–1914)—see letter 4217, note 10—at 2 Houghton Place, Ampthill Square, the lease of which Dickens had bought for her. She was T.A. Trollope’s sister-in-law (see letter 5806, note 12).
5. Elizabeth Loch (née Villiers, 1841–1938), twin sister of Edith Bulwer Lytton. She married in 1862 Henry Brougham Loch (1827–1900), later (1895) 1st Baron Loch.
6. Marguerite Agnes Power (1821–67)—see letter 3355, note 3—died on 1 July 1867, at Bushey, Hertfordshire. She and Robert Bulwer Lytton were friends, though perhaps more. In RB’s copy of her novel The Letters of a Betrothed (1858), he inserted a note: “Written by Miss Power, sister [sic, for niece] of Ly Blessington, and addressed to Lytton” (see Reconstruction, A1891). See also letter 4232.
7. The previous month, Jane Lyon (see note 9 below), filed suit against Daniel Dunglass Home for defrauding her of £30,000. In December 1866, she legally adopted him as her son, and he added Lyon after his surname. The trial took place from 19 April to 1 May 1868, three weeks after which the judge found for the plaintiff (see Waddington, pp, 527–528).
8. Henry George Liddell (1811–98), classical scholar and Dean of Christ Church, Oxford (1855–91).
9. Jane Lyon (née Gibson, d. 1872, aged 79), illegitimate daughter of Matthew Gibson, of Newcastle, and wealthy widow of Charles Lyon (1792–1859), who was the brother of Liddell’s mother, Charlotte (née Lyon, d. 1871).
10. William Milbourne James (1807–81), barrister and judge, was appointed Queen’s Counsel in 1853 and Lord Justice of Appeal in 1870. He represented Mrs. Lyon in the action against Home.
11. Unidentified.
12. Samuel Carter Hall (1800–98), writer and journal editor. According to Patrick Waddington, Hall and his wife, Anna Maria (née Fielding, 1800–81), had become disciples of Home (see Waddington, p. 249).
13. William Martin Wilkinson (1814–97), solicitor, of 44 Lincoln’s Inn Fields, co-founder and editor of The Spiritual Magazine. He largely ghost-wrote D.D. Home’s autobiography, Incidents of My Life (1863); see Waddington, p. 43.
14. Susanna Milner-Gibson (née Cullum, 1814–85); see letter 4514, note 8. Presumably, “Miss Hayes” is Matilda Mary Hays (1820–97); see letter 3139, note 5.
15. The previous editor, Edward McAleer, identifies her as Elizabeth Nicholl (née White, afterwards Guppy, 1838–1917).
16. Unidentified. RB may have in mind Cora Hatch (née Scott, 1840–1923), an American medium mentioned by EBB in letter 4664 as someone Thomas Robinson Hazard trusted as honest. RB had met Hazard and liked him (see letter 4595).
17. The Exposition Universelle of 1867, held at Paris from April to November.
18. Annie Egerton Smith.
19. Anton Rubinstein (1829–94), Russian pianist and composer.
20. Harp and piano makers at 18 Great Marlborough Street.
21. Cf. RB, “By the Fire-Side” (Men and Women, 1855), lines 31–32.
23. Matthew Arnold’s New Poems (1867), published by Macmillan and Co., was advertised as ready “next week” in The Athenæum of 20 July 1867 (no. 2073, p. 92). Since Arnold had omitted Empedocles on Etna (1852) from previous collected editions, in a note to the poem he explained why he now included it: “I cannot deny myself the pleasure of saying that I reprint … this poem at the request of a man of genius, whom it had the honour and the good fortune to interest,—Mr. Robert Browning” (New Poems, p. 243).
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