SD1283. Anna Brownell Jameson to Lady Noel Byron
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 14, 364 (in part).
Avignon, Hotel de L’Europe
Oct 7 [1846]
We are so far on our long anxious journey—ten days since we left Paris & only here! but tedious as our progress has been & even painful now & then—I rejoice—every hour that I did venture on a step which seemed not without risks of many kinds– We have brought our poor invalid so far in safety—& without any increase of indisposition—or any return of her disorder—but the suffering has been very great—not only we have had to carry her fainting from the carriage but from her extreme thinness & weakness, every few hours journey has bruised her all over—till movement became almost unbearable—with her present feelings it is not perhaps great praise to say that all this has been endured with patience—but the unselfish sweetness of the temper—the unfailing consideration for others I did not quite expect– He is most devoted & their mutual deportment has been marked by the most graceful propriety without any appearance of gène– Gerardine has profited every way—by the example, by the sympathy—by the conversation by all she has seen, seen, felt & heard—& has been very good– We came down the Rhone yesterday in a dirty confined steam boat the rain pouring in torrents—& today we are resting here, EB on her bed in the hope of being able to go to Vaucluse tomorrow– Geddie R.B. & myself have been running about, seeing as much as we could—you remember the account of Avignon in Dickens’s book?—mine, were I to enter on it, would be as different as possible[.] The truth is that [to] the artist eye & fancy it is a glorious old place– We saw the poor consumptive woman whom he designates as a “Goblin”—no angel certainly—but this & some other things are so exagerated [sic] or at least are seen under so peculiar an aspect as to make me distrust him as a describer—just now I walked out upon the bridge which has been thrown over one arm of the Rhone—& the lofty citadel with the great towers of the old papal fortress & palace rising in huge masses against the calm moonlight sky, with the broad gleaming waters rushing below was one of the most splendid & awful landscapes I ever beheld—a picture to rest in the mind for ever– Thus much for myself tonight—& where & how are you?– I was so used to feel my life flowing parallel with yours that this distance & absence haunts me—a sort of perpetual want—like the absence of light or any such familiar blessing—tho I cannot say that I waited till now to feel its value only in its loss yet if I could know where & how you are, how it would comfort me! There has been for these last days—as you can well suppose, cause of deep anxiety—but for pleasure of one kind a higher has been substituted– I have the feeling that I have been of some use to these dear people—whatever may be the issue—what has been done, has been well done & the rest remains with God—& “reason, virtue, time”—you know what follows—sometimes I have an inward trembling—& fear—but hope is stronger than fear—now I will say good night & finish tomorrow–
Oct 9– We were at Vaucluse yesterday of which I spare you all description at present—but in some respects it was altogether different from what I had anticipated—the scenery more savage & barren—not like one of the southern vallies & the fountain a most tumultuous torrent– On the whole a very pleasant day– We found here some of the last numbers of Galignani—literally the first English papers I have seen since I left England a month ago. …
It has just been settled that we embark from Marseilles at 5 oclock on Saty. (the 11th) on board “l’Ocèan”—a fine french steamer—& we hope to be at Leghorn early on Monday—& at Pisa a few hours afterwards– It does not seem certain whether we are to touch at Genoa—at Pisa I shall resign the sort of responsibility I have taken on myself—God send us safe there!—but in any case I have done right & you dearest friend—will not judge actions by the result—but by the motive– E.B. is tolerably well this evening—& there is no return of disease tho’ occasionally much suffering—how I think of poor Miss M sometimes!– Tell me anyhow, of Lady Olivia, of Mrs. Mair—so with a thousand things unsaid I lay down my pen–
Your affect
aj
stain of pomgranates [sic] over the paper–
Address, on integral page: The / Lady Noel Byron / Esher / Surrey / Angleterre.
Publication: The New Colophon, 1950, pp. 116–117.
Manuscript: Pierpont Morgan Library.
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