690. EBB to Arabella Moulton-Barrett
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 4, 139–143.
[Torquay]
Monday– April 29. [1839] [1]
My ever dearest Arabel,
You will be surprised to hear of me in such an out of the way manner—& must not be cross if only very few words are laid at their full [2] length upon this paper—seeing that they seem to go to you in a parenthesis of opportunities. I meant to have sent Mary’s mantilla by the Hedleys & your drawing book by the same; but they don’t go to London as soon as they intended I am very glad to find—and here is an opportunity––I “say to all the world, ‘this is a Mann’” [3] —not a man of Ross [4] but of Torquay,—‘an honest man’ I do not doubt, & a very obliging one I am sure––Mr Mann linen draper,—successor to Mr Hall of the like profession––who offers to take anything to London for us on the coming evening. I therefore send mantilla & drawing book by the aforesaid. You used not to have a block drawing book—& you must not call me a block head for sending you such a book. In the first place I have coveted one for you ever since I saw Brozie’s—and then it seems so likely that you may sit a good deal on the top of the monument [5] for air this hot weather, & so possible that you who recognize my handwriting on a letter in the postman’s hand at the other side of the street (oh Arabel!!!) shd be able to take a birds eye view of Hampstead & its adjacent pastoralities from any window in Wimpole Street, that I feel bound to provide you immediately with materials for sketching. Tell darling Mary with my love to unfold the mantilla very carefully, as there is a particular scolding wrapt up in it, and I should be sorry if she didn’t receive it whole. Her father told me in his last letter that he had not heard from her since he last received mine. His was only poetical justice,—but there is neither justice nor poetry in her never writing to me. But mind Arabel! Give my most affectionate love to dearest Sam, & say how glad I shall be when he can write to me! But mind, Arabel! I exact two letters from you every week, whether I have other letters or not. So pray keep to your own business,—& dont be curious about my other correspondents. I have noted a meddling disposition about you, good my Lady, for some time past—whereupon goes to you this gentlewomanly hint to reform it altogether.
You do improve after all. Yes! I knew of your farsightedness, but of your second-sightedness I never even heard. When you read my letter across the street, did you make out quite clearly what was under the seal?–
As to my degeneracies as contrasted with your improvements, I must I suppose try to defend myself. You think me something loth to encounter the “delightful drawing room” & attribute the whole to a backsliding from my old sea-love. Now Arabel listen to me. Of your faithfulness to nature it is impossible to doubt, seeing that it has never been tried– Therefore do let me imagine you transported somewhere near the meetings of the waters––of the four Edenic rivers,—to sward, smooth as velvet (as men-milliner-poets say) to air, light & warm as mous[s]eline de laine, [6] among trees nodding like ostrich feathers. And suppose that somebody whom you highly respected (Adam for instance) was pleased upon your prostration before him, to stand upon your chest in clodhopper shoes (forgive the anachronism) while Dame Eve amused herself by whipping your ankles very earnestly with a branch of primæval birch. What wd you do?—what wd you say? Wd you cry out pastorally & passionately, [‘]‘ Oh dear me, how pleasant! what a delightful situation this is”—or wd you be degenerate like me, & wish yourself at Jericho?– ‘I pause for a reply.’——
The fact is, notwithstanding the sofa close to the window & the window close to the sea, I did most emphatically abominate & nauseate the going down stairs yesterday. The change from a four-month-long imprisonment to this room, where from habitude I had grown to like the air & the silence, was quite sure to be felt unpleasantly—& pretending to covet the change except at a distance, was out of the question. But dont fancy me a murmurer. I never ever said to Dr. Barry ‘I dont like going down stairs’—& indeed was quite aware in my inward soul that going down was a very necessary step to take. So I went, & managed better than on the last trial– There was no fainting. I was just uncomfortable & oppressed, & a little irritated as to coughing—but I stayed down stairs two hours & a half & did I believe, my full duty. Dr Barry cant say so. Oh the treachery of doctor-kind! He gave me an imitation night-draught, thinking I suppose (indeed he intimated as much) that the fatigue wd make me sleep without an opiate. I knew it wdnt: & it didnt. Fatigue never does me such a service. So I had the pleasure of lying all night as wide awake as I am at this moment when I hope you dont fancy me half asleep—though you may. The weather is not warm—but hot—& we are fire-less. I had meditated leaving off my merino today, but Henrietta’s counsel defers it till tomorrow. Just done dinner, & just going again down stairs. Undaunted you see!– Dr Barry says, & common sense said it before him, that a few days will reconcile me & the second floor. So dont sympathize with me too painfully for yourself. Give me till Thursday, & I shall be ready with an ‘Ode out of a balcony’– Only pray remember that the sea is visible even from the bed of this room, though from the windows being higher, there is some restraint upon the vision. As to London I dont & wont deny the extent of my affection for it—whether due most to the smoke or you, you may settle between you!—— Certainly (that may be a guide) I long for the most to see you! [7] ——
You say nothing about Mr Moody? [8] How do my dearest Sette & Joc like him? The name is ominous.
Think of an old gentleman in ringlets coming to call upon me the other day? “Is Miss Barrett at home”?—& upon an affirmative he was just walking in. “Oh Sir,” said Patten—“she is ill, & never sees company.” “Ill! I am very sorry to hear it”—& off he went without leaving his name. Of course I was in a phrenzy of curiosity—particularly as Crow told me that he forthwith walked down towards the London steamer. However he came again the next morning (just as I had persuaded myself that he must have been a deputation from Wimpole Street—so likely you know) & left his card, the Revd ____ Cave, & a case about some Baptist chapel. And so perished the mystery of the old gentleman in ringlets.
Arabel! he is nothing to you! How can you be so tantalizing! First of all you are “engaged”––in what way being swallowed by an hiatus. Then you are going to ask me something––what, there is no room to particularize– Only it is something very “incomprehensible”. How can you be so provoking! If you do it again, I will get a medical certificate from Dr Barry, to prove that it does’nt agree with me. It never did. You must remember that I was always of an Eveish constitution.
Not a word of poor Dr Chambers! Surely you have not been so unkind as never to have sent to ask how he was!——
I meant to have written to Treppy today—but she shall hear from me by Jane [Hedley]. Give her in the meantime my affectionate love & congratulation upon being well again.
The two blank corners. I looked very blankly at them in opening your dear letter—but that dearest dearest Papa shd have even meant to write in them was something.
They make me go down stairs at once. And so goodbye, beloved Arabel. On thursday I shall hear: & mind you tell me every, the very least thing!——
May the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ surround you with the love which that filial name renders so tender!——
There is plenty of nonsense in what I have written—but I cant look over it to ascertain how much. Henrietta’s letter will reach you on thursday instead of wednesday: so dont expect one before. I am going on very well!—& you are not to think of me any more except in the way of pure love. Poor dear Bummy is better today—but the rheumatism has not quite left her face & head, & it affects her spirits a good deal. Herein I send L E L’s seed [9] —and you are not to wear out any more knees in looking for it on the carpet.
Your very ever attached Ba.
I shall write next to my beloved Papa—& in the meanwhile shall dream of hearing from him.
Love to Minny.
This is Jane’s birthday—& Arabella came here to breakfast—& she & Arlette & Cissy [10] are gone out holidayizing upon donkeys. The two latter confided the other day to Henrietta, that they like Torquay so very much better than Frocester!!
Mr Hamilton [11] will have worn out Henrietta’s poplin before he arrives here, which he is to do in a ‘fortnight’! I hope I shall not catch cold by going out the first time without a hat!!!!!
I am so sorry to hear of Mr Kenyon’s illness. My kind regards to him, whenever there is an opportunity of giving them.
How critical you are about handwriting. Be merciful (& I am sure you shD) to this. I have put away the seeds somewhere & in so very safe a place that I cant find them. Therefore you need’nt look for them.
Iron out the mantilla, if squeezed to death.
Address: Miss Arabel Barrett.
Publication: None traced.
Manuscript: Berg Collection.
1. During the period of EBB’s stay in Torquay, 1839 was the only year in which 29 April fell on Monday.
2. EBB originally wrote “fool,” which was changed to “full” and underscored twice. Above the line she explained: “(written fool by instinct).”
3. Cf. Julius Caesar, V, 5, 75.
4. Pope, Epistle to Several Persons (1744), III, 250.
5. The Monument, a 202 ft. Doric column near the north end of London Bridge, marks the spot where the Great Fire of 1666 started.
6. Literally “muslin of wool.” A dress material originally composed wholly of wool, but afterwards of wool and cotton (OED).
7. Underscored three times.
8. SD1067 includes the comment: “Tell George that the Governor thinks he will scarcely be rich enow to pay Mr. Moody his account,” thus establishing Moody as a tradesman. However, it is not possible to identify him further; Robson’s London Directory for 1839 lists 24 tradesmen of that name.
9. One of the two sent to EBB from those received by Miss Mitford from Africa (see letter 686).
10. EBB’s cousins, the daughters of her late aunt, Charlotte Butler.
11. SD965 describes Mr. Hamilton as a friend of EBB’s brother Sam, and speaks of his going boating for four hours with Bro. SD1024 mentions his receiving a commission in the 62nd Regiment: “I suspect he had rather entered the holy state of wedlock than the bloody profession of war.”
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