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diff --git a/16646.txt b/16646.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8bf780f --- /dev/null +++ b/16646.txt @@ -0,0 +1,17326 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Letters of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, +Volume II, by Elizabeth Barrett Browning + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Letters of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Volume II + +Author: Elizabeth Barrett Browning + +Editor: Frederic G. Kenyon + +Release Date: September 4, 2005 [EBook #16646] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LETTERS OF ELIZABETH *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Lisa Reigel and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Transcriber's Notes: The letter "o" with a macron is indicated as [=o] +in this text. The oe ligature has been replaced with the letters "oe". +The original text had the word "Madame" written two ways: "Mad" followed +by superscripted "me" and "Ma" followed by superscripted "dme". All have +been rendered as Madme.] + +[Illustration: _Robert Browning._ +Rome 1854. +_From an Oil Painting by W. Fisher._] + + + + +THE LETTERS +OF +ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING + +EDITED WITH BIOGRAPHICAL ADDITIONS + +BY +FREDERIC G. KENYON + +_WITH PORTRAITS_ + +IN TWO VOLUMES + +VOLUME II. + +_THIRD EDITION_ + +LONDON + +SMITH, ELDER, & CO., 15 WATERLOO PLACE +1898 + + + + +CONTENTS +OF +THE SECOND VOLUME + + * * * * * + + +CHAPTER VII + +1851-1852 + +'Casa Guidi Windows'--Venice--Milan--Paris--London--Winter in Paris--The +Coup d'Etat--Louis Napoleon--Miss Mitford's 'Recollections'--George +Sand--Miss Mulock--Summer in England, 1 + + +CHAPTER VIII + +1852-1855 + +Return to Florence--Spiritualism--Robert Lytton--Bagni di +Lucca--Florence--Rome--Florence--The Crimean War--Death of Miss +Mitford, 91 + + +CHAPTER IX + +1855-1859 + +Visit to England--Tennyson's 'Maud'--Winter in Paris--Mr. Ruskin--Last +Visit to England--'Aurora Leigh'--Death of Mr. Kenyon--Return to +Florence--Carnival--Death of Mr. Barrett--Bagni di Lucca--Illness of +Lytton--Paris--Havre--Paris--Florence--Rome, 205 + + +CHAPTER X + +1859-1860 + +The Franco-Austrian War--Napoleon and +Italy--Villafranca--Florence--Siena--Italian Politics and +England--Landor--Florence--Rome, 305 + + +CHAPTER XI + +1860-1861 + +'Poems before Congress'--Napoleon and Savoy--France, Italy, and +England--Florence--Death of Mrs. Surtees Cook--Garibaldi--Rome--The +'Cornhill Magazine' and Thackeray--Increasing Weakness--Death of Mrs. +Browning, 363 + + +INDEX, 455 + +PORTRAIT OF ROBERT BROWNING, ROME 1854, _Frontispiece_ + +FACSIMILE OF LETTER TO THE EMPEROR NAPOLEON, _to face p. 262_ + + + + +THE LETTERS + +OF + +ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING + + * * * * * + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +1851-1852 + + +Since they first settled in Florence the Brownings had made no long or +distant expeditions from their new home. Their summer excursions to +Vallombrosa, Lucca, or Siena had been of the nature of short holidays, +and had not taken them beyond the limits of Tuscany. Now they had +planned a far wider series of travels, which, beginning with Rome, +Naples, Venice, and Milan, should then be extended across the Alps, and +comprehend Brussels, Paris, and ultimately London. This ambitious +programme had to be curtailed by the omission of the southern tour to +Rome and Naples, as well as the digression to Brussels, but the rest of +the scheme was carried out, and about the beginning of June they left +Casa Guidi for an absence which extended over seventeen months. + +The holiday had been well earned, especially by Mrs. Browning, who, +since the preparation of the new edition of her poems in the previous +year, had been writing the second part of 'Casa Guidi Windows.' It is +probably to this poem that she refers in the letter to Miss Browning +printed at the end of the last chapter, Miss Browning having on more +than one occasion helped both her brother and her sister-in-law in the +task of passing their poems through the press. The book appeared in +June, just as they were starting on their travels, and probably for this +reason we hear less in the letters of its reception. It was hardly to be +expected that the English public would take a very keen interest in a +poem dealing almost entirely with Italian politics, and half of it with +the politics of three years ago. Either in 1849 or in 1859 the interest +would have been livelier; but Italy was passing now through the valley +of the shadow, and, save for the horrors of the Neapolitan prisons, was +not much before the public for the moment. The intrigues of Louis +Napoleon and the ostentatious aggression of the Pope in England were the +matters of most interest in foreign politics, and both were overshadowed +by the absorbing topic of the Great Exhibition. + +Another reason why 'Casa Guidi Windows' has received less appreciation +than it deserves, both at the time of its publication and since, is that +it stands rather apart from all the recognised species of poetry, and is +hard to classify and criticise. Its political and contemporary character +cut it off from the imaginative and historical subjects which form in +general the matter of poetry, while its genuinely poetic emotion and +language separate it from the political pamphlet or the occasional +verse. It is a poetic treatment of a political subject raised to a high +level by the genuine enthusiasm and fire with which it is inspired, and +these give it a value which lasts far beyond the moment of the events +which gave it birth. The execution, too, shows an advance on most of +Mrs. Browning's previous work. The dangerous experiments in rhyming +which characterised many of the poems in the volumes of 1844 are +abandoned; the licences of language are less frequent; the verse runs +smoothly and is more uniformly under command. It would appear as if the +heat of inspiration which produced the 'Sonnets from the Portuguese' +had left a permanent and purifying effect upon her style. The poem has +been neglected by those who take little interest in Italy and its +history, and adversely criticised by those who do not sympathise with +its political and religious opinions; but with those who look only to +its poetry and to its warm-hearted championship of a great cause, it +will always hold a high place of its own among Mrs. Browning's writings. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss I. Blagden_ + +Florence: May 1, [1851]. + +I am writing to you, dearest Miss Blagden, at last, you see; though you +must have excommunicated me before now as the most ungrateful of +correspondents and friends. Do forgive what you can--and your kindness +is so great that I believe you can, and shall go on to write as if you +did. We have been in the extremity of confusion and indecision. Remember +how the fairy princes used to do when they arrived at the meeting of +three roads, and had to consider what choice to make. How they used to +shake their heads and ponder, and end sometimes by drawing lots! Much in +the like perplexity have we been. Everything was ready for Rome--the day +fixed, the packing begun, the vettura bargained for. Suddenly, visions +of obstacles rose up. We were late in the season. We should be late for +the festas. May would be hot in Rome for Wiedeman. Then two journeys, +north and south, to Rome and Naples, besides Paris and England, pulled +fearfully at the purse-strings. Plainly we couldn't afford it. So +everything was stopped and changed. We gave up Rome and you, and are now +actually on the point of setting out for Venice; Venice is to console us +for Rome. We go to-morrow, indeed. The plan is to stay a fortnight at +Venice (or more or less, as the charm works), and then to strike across +to Milan; across the Spluegen into Switzerland, and to linger there among +the hills and lakes for a part of the summer, so working out an +intention of economy; then down the Rhine; then by railroad to Brussels; +so to Paris, settling there; after which we pay our visit to England for +a few weeks. Early next spring we mean to go to Rome and return here, +either _for good_ (which is very possible) or for the purpose of +arranging our house affairs and packing up books and furniture. As it +is, we have our apartment for another year, and shall let it if we can. +It has been painted, cleaned, and improved in all ways, till my head and +Robert's ring again with the confusion of it all. Oh that we were gone, +since we are to go! When out of sight of Florence, we shall begin to +enjoy, I hope, the sight of other things, but as it is the impression is +only painful and dizzying. Our friends Mr. and Mrs. Ogilvy go with us as +far as Venice, and then leave us on a direct course for England, having +committed their children and nurses to the care of her sister at the +Baths of Lucca meantime. We take with us only Wilson. + +Do write to me at Venice, Poste Restante, that I may know you are +thinking of me and excusing me kindly. If you knew how uncertain and +tormented we have been. I won't even ask Robert to add a line to this, +he is so overwhelmed with a flood of businesses; but he bids me speak to +you of him as affectionately and faithfully (because affectionately) as +I have reason to do. So kind it was in you to think of taking the +trouble of finding us an apartment! So really sensible we are to all +your warm-hearted goodness, with fullness of heart on our side too. And, +after all, we are not parting! Either we shall find you in Italy again, +or you will find us in Paris. I have a presentimental assurance of +finding one another again before long. Remember us and love us meantime. + +As to your spiritual visitor--why, it would be hard to make out a system +of Romish doctrine from the most Romish version of the S.S.[1] The +differences between the Protestant version and the Papistical are not +certainly justifiable by the Greek original, on the side of the latter. +In fact, the Papistical version does not pretend to follow the Greek +text, but a Latin translation of the same--it's a translation from a +translation. Granting it, however, to be faithful, I must repeat that to +make out the Romish system from even _such_ a Romish version could not +be achieved. So little does Scripture (however represented) seem to me +to justify that system of ecclesiastical doctrine and discipline. I +answer your question because you bid me, but I am not a bit frightened +at the idea of your becoming a R.C., however you may try to frighten me. +You have too much intelligence and uprightness of intellect. We do hope +you have enjoyed Rome, and that dearest Miss Agassiz (give our kind love +to her) is better and looks better than we all thought her a little +while ago. I have a book coming out in England called 'Casa Guidi +Windows,' which will prevent everybody else (except you) from speaking +to me again. Do love me always, as I shall you. Forgive me, and _don't_ +forget me. I shall try, after a space of calm, to behave better to you, +and more after my _heart_--for I am ever (as Robert is) + +Your faithfully affectionate friend, +ELIZABETH B. BROWNING. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +Venice: June 4, [1851]. + +My ever dearest Miss Mitford,--I must write to you from Venice, though +it can only be a few lines. So much I have to say and _feel_ in writing +to you, and thinking that you were not well when you wrote last to me, I +long to hear from you--and yet I can't tell you to-day where a letter +will find me. We are wanderers on the face of the world just now, and +with every desire of going straight from Venice to Milan to-morrow +(Friday) week, we shall more probably, at the Baths of Recoaro, be +lingering and lingering. Therefore will you write to the care of Miss +Browning, New Cross, Hatcham, near London? for so I shall not lose your +letter. I have been between heaven and earth since our arrival at +Venice. The heaven of it is ineffable. Never had I touched the skirts of +so celestial a place. The beauty of the architecture, the silver trails +of water up between all that gorgeous colour and carving, the enchanting +silence, the moonlight, the music, the gondolas--I mix it all up +together, and maintain that nothing is like it, nothing equal to it, not +a second Venice in the world. Do you know, when I came first I felt as +if I never could go away. But now comes the earth side. Robert, after +sharing the ecstasy, grows uncomfortable, and nervous, and unable to eat +or sleep; and poor Wilson, still worse, in a miserable condition of +continual sickness and headache. Alas for these mortal Venices--so +exquisite and so bilious! Therefore I am constrained away from my joys +by sympathy, and am forced to be glad that we are going off on Friday. +For myself, it does not affect me at all. I like these moist, soft, +relaxing climates; even the scirocco doesn't touch me much. And the baby +grows gloriously fatter in spite of everything. + +No, indeed and indeed, we are not going to England for the sake of the +Exposition. How could you fancy such a thing, even once. In any case we +shall not reach London till late, and if by any arrangement I could see +my sister Arabel in France or on the coast of England, we would persuade +Robert's family to meet us there, and not see London at all. Ah, if you +knew how abhorrent the thought of England is to _me_! Well, we must not +talk of it. My eyes shut suddenly when my thoughts go that way. + +Tell me exactly how you are. I heartily rejoice that you have decided +at last about the other house, so as to avoid the danger of another +autumn and winter in the damp. Do you write still for Mr. Chorley's +periodical, and how does it go on? Here in Italy the fame of it does not +penetrate. As for Venice, you can't get even a 'Times,' much less an +'Athenaeum.' We comfort ourselves by taking a box at the opera (the whole +box on the ground tier, mind) for two shillings and eightpence English. +Also, every evening at half-past eight, Robert and I are sitting under +the moon in the great piazza of St. Mark, taking excellent coffee and +reading the French papers. Can you fancy me so? + +You will receive a copy of my new poem, 'Casa Guidi Windows,' soon after +this note. I have asked Sarianna Browning to see that you receive it +safely. I don't give away copies (having none to give away, according to +booksellers' terms), but I can't let you receive my little book from +another hand than the writer's. Tell me how you like the poem--honestly, +truly--which numbers of people will be sure to dislike profoundly and +angrily, perhaps. We think of going to Recoaro because Mr. Chorley +praised it to us years ago. Tell him so if you write. + +Here are a heap of words tossed down upon paper. I can't put the stops +even. Do write _about yourself_, not waiting for the book. + +Your ever attached +E.B.B. + +At Paris how near we shall be! How sure to meet. Have you been to the +Exposition yourself? Tell me. And what is the general feeling _now_? + + * * * * * + + +_To John Kenyon_ + +Paris: July 7, [1851]. + +My dearest Mr. Kenyon,--I have waited day after day during this week +that we have been here, to be able to tell you that we have decided this +or that--but the indecision lasts, and I can't let you hear from others +of our being in Paris when you have a right more than anybody almost to +hear all about us. I wanted to write to you, indeed, from Venice, where +we stayed a month, and much the same reason made me leave it undone, as +we were making and unmaking plans the whole time, and we didn't know +till the last few hours, for instance, whether or not we should go to +Milan. Venice is quite exquisite; it wrapt me round with a spell at +first sight, and I longed to live and die there--never to go away. The +gondolas, and the glory they swim through, and the silence of the +population, drifted over one's head across the bridges, and the +fantastic architecture and the coffee-drinking and music in the Piazza +San Marco, everything fitted into my lazy, idle nature and weakness of +body, as if I had been born to the manner of it and to no other. Do you +know I expected in Venice a dreary sort of desolation? Whereas there was +nothing melancholy at all, only a soothing, lulling, rocking atmosphere +which if Armida had lived in a city rather than in a garden would have +suited her purpose. Indeed Taglioni seems to be resting her feet from +dancing, there, with a peculiar zest, inasmuch as she has bought three +or four of the most beautiful palaces. How could she do better? And one +or two ex-kings and queens (of the more vulgar royalties) have wrapt +themselves round with those shining waters to forget the purple--or +dream of it, as the case may be. Robert and I led a true Venetian life, +I assure you; we 'swam in gondolas' to the Lido and everywhere else, we +went to a festa at Chioggia in the steamer (frightening Wilson by being +kept out by the wind till two o'clock in the morning), we went to the +opera and the play (at a shilling each, or not as much!), and we took +coffee every evening on St. Mark's Piazza, to music and the stars. +Altogether it would have been perfect, only what's perfect in the world? +While I grew fat, Wilson grew thin, and Robert could not sleep at +nights. The air was too relaxing or soft or something for them both, and +poor Wilson declares that another month of Venice would have killed her +outright. Certainly she looked dreadfully ill and could eat nothing. So +I was forced to be glad to go away, out of pure humanity and sympathy, +though I keep saying softly to myself ever since, 'What is there on +earth like Venice?' + +Then, we slept at Padua on St. Anthony's night (more's the pity for us: +they made us pay sixteen zwanzigers for it!), and Robert and I, leaving +Wiedeman at the inn, took a caleche and drove over to Arqua, which I had +set my heart on seeing for Petrarch's sake. Did you ever see it, _you_? +And didn't it move you, the sight of that little room where the great +soul exhaled itself? Even Robert's man's eyes had tears in them as we +stood there, and looked through the window at the green-peaked hills. +And, do you know, I believe in 'the cat.' + +Through Brescia we passed by moonlight (such a flood of white moonlight) +and got into Milan in the morning. There we stayed two days, and I +climbed to the topmost pinnacle of the cathedral; wonder at me! Indeed I +was rather overtired, it must be confessed--three hundred and fifty +steps--but the sight was worth everything, enough to light up one's +memory for ever. How glorious that cathedral is! worthy almost of +standing face to face with the snow Alps; and itself a sort of snow +dream by an artist architect, taken asleep in a glacier! Then the Da +Vinci Christ did not disappoint us, which is saying much. It is divine. +And the Lombard school generally was delightful after Bologna and those +soulless Caracci! I have even given up Guido, and Guercino too, since +knowing more of them. Correggio, on the other hand, is sublime at Parma; +he is wonderful! besides having the sense to make his little Christs and +angels after the very likeness of my baby. + +From Milan we moved to Como, steamed down to Menaggio (opposite to +Bellaggio), took a caleche to Porlezza, and a boat to Lugano, another +caleche to Bellinzona, left Wiedeman there, and, returning on our steps, +steamed down and up again the Lago Maggiore, went from Bellinzona to +Faido and slept, and crossed the Mount St. Gothard the next day, +catching the Lucerne steamer at Fluellen. The scenery everywhere was +most exquisite, but of the great _pass_ I shall say nothing--it was like +standing in the presence of God when He is terrible. The tears +overflowed my eyes. I think I never _saw_ the sublime before. Do you +know I sate out in the coupe a part of the way with Robert so as to +apprehend the whole sight better, with a thick shawl over my head, only +letting out the eyes to see. They told us there was more snow than is +customary at this time of year, and it well might be so, for the passage +through it, cut for the carriage, left the snow-walls nodding over us at +a great height on each side, and the cold was intense. + +Do you know we might yield the palm, and that Lucerne is far finer than +any of our Italian lakes? Even Robert had to confess it at once. I +wanted to stay in Switzerland, but we found it wiser to hasten our steps +and come to Paris; so we came. Yes, and we travelled from Strasburg to +Paris in four-and-twenty hours, night and day, never stopping except for +a quarter of an hour's breakfast and half an hour's dinner. So afraid I +was of the fatigue for Wiedeman! But between the unfinished railroad and +the diligence, there's a complication of risks of losing places just +now, and we were forced to go the whole way in a breath or to hazard +being three or four days on the road. So we took the coupe and resigned +ourselves, and poor little babe slept at night and laughed in the day, +and came into Paris as fresh in spirit as if just alighted from the +morning star, screaming out with delight at the shops! Think of that +child! Upon the whole he has enjoyed our journey as much as any one of +us, observing and admiring; though Robert and Wilson will have it that +some of his admiration of the _scenery_ we passed through was pure +affectation and acted out to copy ours. He cried out, clasping his +hands, that the mountains were 'due'--meaning a great number. His love +of beautiful buildings, of churches especially, no one can doubt about. +When first he saw St. Mark's, he threw up his arms in wonder, and then, +clasping them round Wilson's neck (she was carrying him), he kissed her +in an ecstasy of joy. And that was after a long day's journey, when most +other children would have been tired and fretful. But the sense of the +beautiful is certainly very strong in him, little darling. He can't say +the word 'church' yet, but when he sees one he begins to chant. Oh, he's +a true Florentine in some things. + +Well, now we are in Paris and have to forget the 'belle chiese;' we have +beautiful shops instead, false teeth grinning at the corners of the +streets, and disreputable prints, and fascinating hats and caps, and +brilliant restaurants, and M. le President in a cocked hat and with a +train of cavalry, passing like a rocket along the boulevards to an +occasional yell from the Red. Oh yes, and don't mistake me! for I like +it all extremely, it's a splendid city--a city in the country, as Venice +is a city in the sea. And I'm as much amused as Wiedeman, who stands in +the street before the printshops (to Wilson's great discomfort) and +roars at the lions. And I admire the bright green trees and gardens +everywhere in the heart of the town. Surely it is a most beautiful city! +And I like the restaurants more than is reasonable; dining _a la carte_, +and mixing up one's dinner with heaps of newspapers, and the 'solution' +by Emile de Girardin, who suggests that the next President should be a +tailor. Moreover, we find apartments very cheap in comparison to what we +feared, and we are in a comfortable quiet hotel, where it is possible, +and not ruinous, to wait and look about one. + +As to England--oh England--how I dread to think of it. We talk of going +over for a short time, but have not decided when; yet it will be soon +perhaps--it may. If it were not for my precious Arabel, I would not go; +because Robert's family would come to him here, they say. But to give up +Arabel is impossible. Henrietta is in Somersetshire; it is uncertain +whether I shall see her, even in going, and she too might come to Paris +this winter. And you will come--you promised, I think?... + +I feel here _near enough_ to England, that's the truth. I recoil from +the bitterness of being nearer. Still, it must be thought of. + +Dearest cousin, dearest friend, in all this pleasant journey we have +borne you in mind, and gratefully! You must feel _that_ without being +told. I won't quite do like my Wiedeman, who every time he fires his gun +(if it's twenty times in five minutes) says, 'Papa, papa,' because +Robert gave him the gun, and the gratitude is as re-iterantly and loudly +explosive. But one's thoughts may say what they please and as often as +they please. + +Arabel tells me that you are kind to the manner of my poem, though to +the matter obdurate. Miss Mitford, too, says that it won't receive the +sympathy proper to a home subject, because the English people don't care +anything for the Italians now; despising them for their want of +originality in _Art_! That's very good of the English people, really! I +fear much that dear Miss Mitford has suffered seriously from the effects +of the damp house last winter. What she says of herself makes me anxious +about her. + +Give my true love to dear Miss Bayley, and say how I repent in ashes for +not having written to her. But she is large-hearted and will forgive me, +and I shall make amends and send her sheet upon sheet. Barry Cornwall's +letter to Robert, of course, delighted as well as honoured me. Does it +appear in the new edition of his 'songs' &c.? + +Mind, if ever I go to England I shall have no heart to go out of a very +dark corner. I shall just see you and that's all. It's only Robert who +is a patriot now, of us two. England, what with the past and the +present, is a place of bitterness to me, bitter enough to turn all her +seas round to wormwood! Airs and hearts, all are against me in England; +yet don't let me be ungrateful. No love is forgotten or less prized, +certainly not yours. Only I'm a citizeness of the world now, you see, +and float loose. + +God bless you, dearest Mr. Kenyon, prays + +Your ever affectionate +BA. + +Robert's best love as always. He writes by this post to Mr. Procter. How +beautifully Sarianna has corrected for the press my new poem! +Wonderfully well, really. There is only one error of consequence, which +I will ask you to correct in any copy you can--of 'rail' _in the last +line_, to 'vail;' the allusion being of course to the Jewish temple--but +as it is printed nobody can catch any meaning, I fear. They tell me that +the Puseyite organ, the 'Guardian,' has been strong in attack. So best. + + * * * * * + + +After a few weeks in Paris the travellers crossed over to England, which +they had not seen for nearly five years. Their visit to London lasted +about two months, from the end of July to the end of September, during +which time they stayed in lodgings at 26 Devonshire Street. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +26 Devonshire Street: Wednesday, [about August 1851]. + +My ever dearest Mrs. Martin,--I am not ungrateful after all, but I +wanted to write a long letter to you (having much to say), and even now +it is hard in this confusion to write a short one. We have been +overwhelmed with kindnesses, crushed with gifts, like the Roman lady; +and literally to drink through a cup of tea from beginning to end +without an interruption from the door-bell, we have scarcely attained to +since we came. For my part I refuse all dinner invitations except when +our dear friend Mr. Kenyon 'imposes himself as an exception,' in his +own words. But even in keeping the resolution there are necessary +fatigues; and, do you know, I have not been well since our arrival in +England. My first step ashore was into a puddle and a fog, and I began +to cough before we reached London. The quality of the air does _not_ +agree with me, that's evident. For nearly five years I have had no such +cough nor difficulty of breathing, and my friends, who at first sight +thought me looking well, must forbear all compliments for the future, I +think, I get so much paler every day. Next week we send Wilson to see +her mother near Sheffield and _the baby with her_, which is a great +stroke of fortitude in me; only what I can't bear is to see him crying +because she is gone away. So we resolve on letting them both go +together. When she returns, ten days or a fortnight after, we shall have +to think of going to Paris again; indeed Robert begins to be nervous +about me--which is nonsense, but natural enough perhaps. + +In regard to Colwall, you are both, my very dear friends, the kindest +that you can be. Ah, but dearest, dearest Mrs. Martin, you can +_understand_, with the same kindness that you use to me in other things. +There is only one event in my life which never loses its bitterness; +which comes back on me like a retreating wave, going and coming again, +which was and _is my grief--I never had but one brother who loved and +comprehended me_. And so there is just one thought which would be +unbearable if I went into your neighbourhood; and you won't set it down, +I am sure, as unpardonable weakness, much less as affectation, if I +confess to you that I _never could bear it_. The past would be too +strong for me. As to Hope End, it is nothing. I have been happier in my +own home since, than I was there and then. But Torquay has made the +neighbourhood of Hope End impossible to me. I could not eat or sleep in +that air. You will forgive me for the weakness, I am certain. You know a +little, if not entirely, how we loved one another; how I was first with +_him_, and _he_ with me; while God knows that death and separation have +no power over such love. + +After all, we shall see you in Paris if not in England. We pass this +winter in Paris, in the hope of my being able to bear the climate, for +indeed Italy is too far. And if the winter does not disagree with me too +much we mean to take a house and settle in Paris, so as to be close to +you all, and that will be a great joy to me. You will pass through Paris +this autumn (won't you?) on your way to Pau, and I shall see you. I do +long to see you and make you know my husband.... + +So far from regretting my marriage, it has made the happiness and honour +of my life; and every unkindness received from my own house makes me +press nearer to the tenderest and noblest of human hearts _proved_ by +the uninterrupted devotion of nearly five years. Husband, lover, +nurse--not one of these, has Robert been to me, but all three together. +I neither regret my marriage, therefore, nor the manner of it, because +the manner of it was a necessity of the act. I thought so at the time, I +think so now; and I believe that the world in general will decide (if +the world is to be really appealed to) that my opinion upon this subject +(after five years) is worth more. + +Dearest Mrs. Martin, do write to me. I keep my thoughts as far as I can +from bitter things, and the affectionateness of my dearest sisters is +indeed much on the other side. Also, we are both giddy with the kind +attentions pressed on us from every side, from some of the best in +England. It's hard to think at all in such a confusion. We met Tennyson +(the Laureate) by a chance in Paris, who insisted that we should take +possession of his house and servants at Twickenham and use them as long +as we liked to stay in England. Nothing could be more warmly kind, and +we accepted the note in which he gave us the right of possession for the +sake of the generous autograph, though we never intended in our own +minds to act out the proposition. Since then, Mr. Arnould, the Chancery +barrister, has begged us to go and live in his town house (we don't want +houses, you see); Mrs. Fanny Kemble called on and left us tickets for +her Shakespeare reading (by the way, I was charmed with her 'Hamlet'); +Mr. Forster, of the 'Examiner,' gave us a magnificent dinner at Thames +Ditton in sight of the swans; and we breakfast on Saturday with Mr. +Rogers. Then we have seen the Literary Guild actors at the Hanover +Square rooms, and we have passed an evening with Carlyle (one of the +great sights in England, to my mind). He is a very warm friend of +Robert's, so that on every account I was delighted to see him face to +face. I can't tell you what else we have done or not done. It's a great +dazzling heap of things new and strange. Barry Cornwall (Mr. Procter) +came to see us every day till business swept him out of town, and dear +Mrs. Jameson left her Madonna for us in despite of the printers. Such +kindness, on all sides. Ah, there's kindness in England after all. Yet I +grew cold to the heart as I set foot on the ground of it, and wished +myself away. Also, the sort of life is not perhaps the best for me and +the sort of climate is really the worst. + +You heard of Mr. Kenyon's goodness to us; I told Arabel to tell you. + +But I must end here. Another time I will talk of Paris, which I do hope +will suit us as a residence. I was quite well there, the three weeks we +stayed, and am far from well just now. You see, the weight of the +atmosphere, which seems to me like lead, combined with the excitement, +is too much at once. Oh, it won't be very bad, I dare say. I mean to try +to be quiet, and abjure for the future the night air. + +I should not omit to tell you in this quantity of egotism that my +husband's father and sister have received me most affectionately. She is +highly accomplished, with a heart to suit the head. + +Now do write. Let me hear all about you, and how dear Mr. Martin and +yourself are. Robert's cordial regards with those of + +Your ever affectionate and ever grateful +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +26 Devonshire Street: Saturday, [about August 1851]. + +My dearest Mrs. Martin,--Day by day, and hour by hour almost, I have +wanted to thank you again and again for your remedy (which I did not +use, by the bye, being much better), and to answer your inquiry about +me, which really I could not deliver over to Arabel to answer; but the +baby did not go to the country with Wilson, and I have been 'devoted' +since she went away; _une ame perdue_, with not an instant out of the +four-and-twenty hours to call my own. It appeared, at the last, that +Wilson would have a drawback to her enjoyments in having the child, and +I did not choose that: she had only a fortnight, you see, after five +years, to be with her family. So I took her place with him; it was +necessary, for he was in a state of deplorable grief when he missed her, +and has refused ever since to allow any human being except me to do a +single thing for him. I hold him in my arms at night, dress and wash him +in the morning, walk out with him, and am not allowed either to read or +write above three minutes at a time. He has learnt to say in English 'No +more,' and I am bound to be obedient. Perhaps I may make out five +minutes just to write this, for he is playing in the passage with a +child of the house, but even so much is doubtful. He has made very good +friends with a girl here, and Arabel has sent her maid ever so often to +tempt him away for half an hour, so as to give me breathing time, but he +won't be tempted: he has it in his head that the world is in a +conspiracy against him to take 'mama' away after having taken 'Lily,' +and he is bound to resist it. + +After all, the place of nursery maid is more suitable to me than that of +poetess (or even poet's wife) in this obstreperous London. I was nearly +killed the first weeks, what with the climate, and what with the +kindness (and what with the want of kindness), and looked wretchedly, +whether Reynolds Peyton saw it or not, and coughed day and night, till +Robert took fright, and actually fixed a day for taking me forthwith +back to Paris. I had to give up a breakfast at Rogers', and shut myself +up in two rooms for a week, and refuse, like Wiedeman, to be tempted out +anywhere, but, after that, I grew better, and the wind changed, and now +the cough, though not gone, is quieted, and I look a different person, +and have ceased to grow thin. But a racketing life will never do for me, +nor an English atmosphere, I am much afraid. The lungs seem to labour in +this heavy air. Oh, it is so unlike the air of the Continent; I say +nothing of Florence, but even of Paris, where I do wish to be able to +live, on account of the nearness to this dear detestable England. + +Now let me tell you of Wimpole Street. Henry has been very kind in +coming not infrequently; he has a kind, good heart. Occy, too, I have +seen three or four times, Alfred and Sette once. My dearest Arabel is, +of course, here once if not twice a day, and for hours at a time, +bringing me great joy always, and Henrietta's dear kindness in coming to +London on purpose to see me, for a week, has left a perfume in my life. +Both those beloved sisters have been, as ever, perfect to me. Arabel is +vexed just now, and so am I, my brothers having fixed with papa to go +out of town directly, and she caring more to stay where I am.... + +I have not written to papa since our arrival through my fear of +involving Arabel; but as soon as they go to the country I shall +_hopelessly_ write. He is very well and in good spirits, thank God. + +We have spent two days at New Cross with my husband's father and sister, +and she has been here constantly. Most affectionate they are to me, and +the babe is taken into adoration by Mr. Browning. + +But here he is upon me again! Indeed, I have had wonderful luck in +having been able to write all this; and now, God bless both of you, my +dearest friends. Oh, I do feel to my heart all your kindness in wishing +to have us with you, and, indeed, Robert _would_ like to see +Herefordshire, but-- + +[_The remainder of this letter is wanting_] + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +26 Devonshire Street: Wednesday, [September 1851]. + +My dearest Mrs. Martin,--I write in haste to you to tell you some things +which you should hear without delay. + +After Robert's letter to George had been sent three times to Wales and +been returned twice, it reached him, and immediately upon its reaching +him (to do George justice) he wrote a kind reply to apprise us that he +would be at our door the same evening. So the night before last he came, +and we are all good friends, thank God. I tenderly love him and the +rest, and must for ever deplore that such poor barriers as a pedantic +pride can set up should have interposed between long and strong and holy +affections for years. But it is past, and I have been very happy in +being held in his arms again, and seen in his eyes that I was still +something more to him than a stone thrown away. So, if you have thought +severely of him, you and dear Mr. Martin, do not any longer. Preserve +your friendship for him, my dearest friends, and let all this foolish +mistaken past be well past and forgotten. I think him looking thin, +though it does not strike them so in Wimpole Street, certainly. + +For the rest, the pleasantness is not on every side. It seemed to me +right, notwithstanding that dear Mr. Kenyon advised against it, to +apprise my father of my being in England. I could not leave England +without trying the possibility of his seeing me once, of his consenting +to kiss my child once. So I wrote, and Robert wrote. A manly, true, +straightforward letter his was, yet in some parts so touching to me and +so generous and conciliating everywhere, that I could scarcely believe +in the probability of its being read in vain. In reply he had a very +violent and unsparing letter, with all the letters I had written to papa +through these five years _sent back unopened, the seals unbroken_. What +went most to my heart was that some of the seals were black with +black-edged envelopes; so that he might have thought my child or husband +dead, yet never cared to solve the doubt by breaking the seal. He said +he regretted to have been forced to keep them by him until now, through +his ignorance of where he should send them. So there's the end. I +cannot, of course, write again. God takes it all into His own hands, and +I wait. + +We go on Tuesday. If I do not see you (as I scarcely hope to do now), it +will be only a gladness delayed for a few months. We shall meet in Paris +if we live. May God bless you both, dearest friends! I think of you and +love you. Dear Mr. Martin, don't stay too late in England this year, for +the climate seems to me worse than ever. Not that I have much cough +now--I am much better--but the quality of the atmosphere is unmistakable +to my lungs and air passages, and I believe it will be wise, on this +account, to go away quickly. + +Your ever affectionate and grateful +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss E.F. Haworth_[2] + +London: September 24, 1851. + +My dear Miss Haworth,--I do hope you have not set us quite on the +outside of your heart with the unfeeling and ungrateful. I say 'us' when +I ought to have said 'me,' for you have known Robert, and you have not +known _me_, and I am naturally less safe with you than he is--less safe +in your esteem. We should both have gone to inquire after your health if +he had not been attacked with influenza, and unfit for anything until +the days you mentioned as the probable term of your remaining in town +had passed. I waited till he should be better, and the malady lingered. +Now he is well, and I do hope you may be so too. May it be! Bear us in +mind and love, for we go away to-morrow to Paris--where, however, we +shall _expect_ you before long. Thank you, thank you, for the books. I +have been struck and charmed with some things in the +'Companion'--especially, may I say, with the 'Modern Pygmalion,' which +catches me on my weak side of the _love of wonder_. By the way, what am +I to say of Swedenborg and mesmerism? So much I could--the books have so +drawn and held me (as far as I was capable of being drawn or held, in +this chaos of London)--that I will not speak at all. The note-page is +too small--the haste I write in, too great. + +God bless you, and good bye. Robert bids me give you his love (of the +earnestest), and I have leave from you (have I not?) to be always +affectionately yours, + +ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. + + * * * * * + + +The journey to Paris was effected at the end of September, and for about +nine months they pitched their tent at No. 138 Avenue des +Champs-Elysees. It was a fortunate time to be in Paris for those who had +no personal nervousness, and liked to be near the scene of great +events--a most anxious time for any who were alarmed at disturbances, or +took keenly to heart the horrors of street fighting. Fortunately for the +Brownings, they, whether by temperament or through their Italian +experiences, were not unduly disturbed at revolutions, while the horrors +of Louis Napoleon's _coup d'etat_ were, no doubt, only partly known to +Mrs. Browning at the time, and were palliated to her by the view she +took of Napoleon's character. She had not, it is true, raised him as yet +to the pinnacle on which his intervention on behalf of Italy +subsequently caused her to place him, but (perhaps owing to what Mr. +Kenyon called her 'immoral sympathy with power') she was always disposed +to put a favourable construction on his actions, and the _coup d'etat_ +was finally whitewashed for her by the approbation which the +_plebiscite_ of December 20 gave to his assumption of supreme power. Her +views are, however, so fully set forth in her own letters that they need +not be detailed here. For her husband's opinion of the character of +Louis Napoleon, at least as it appeared to him when looking back after +the lapse of years, it is only necessary to refer to 'Prince +Hohenstiel-Schwangau.' + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +[Paris,] 138 Avenue des Champs-Elysees: +October 21, [1851]. + +But didn't you, dearest friend, get 'Casa Guidi' and the portrait of +Madme de Goethe, left for you in the London house? I felt a _want_ of +leaving a word of adieu with these, and then the chaotic confusion in +which we left England stifled the better purpose out of me. + +With such mixed feelings I went away. Leaving love behind is always +terrible, but it was not all love that I left, and there was relief in +the state of mind with which I threw myself on the sofa at Dieppe--yes, +indeed. Robert felt differently from me for once, as was natural, for it +had been pure joy to him with his family and his friends, and I do +believe he would have been capable of never leaving England again, had +such an arrangement been practicable for us on some accounts. Oh +England! I love and hate it at once. Or rather, where love of country +ought to be in the heart, there is the mark of the burning iron in mine, +and the depth of the scar shows the depth of the root of it. Well, I am +writing you an amusing letter to-day, I think. After all, I wasn't made +to live in England, or I should not cough there perpetually; while no +sooner do I get to Paris than the cough vanishes--it is all but gone +now. The lightness of the air here makes the place tenable--so far, at +least. We made many an effort to get an apartment near the Madeleine, +but we had to sacrifice sun or money, or breath, in going up to the top +of a house, and the sacrifice seemed too great upon consideration, and +we came off to the 'Avenue des Champs-Elysees,' on the sunshiny side of +the way, to a southern aspect, and pretty cheerful carpeted rooms--a +drawing room, a dressing and writing room for Robert, a small dining +room, two comfortable bedrooms and a third bedroom upstairs for the +_femme de service_, kitchen, &c., for two hundred francs a month. Not +too dear, we think. About the same that we paid, out of the season, in +London for the miserable accommodation we had there. But perhaps you +won't come near us now; we may be too much 'out of the way' for you. Is +it so indeed? Understand that close by us is a stand of _coupes_ and +_fiacres_, not to profane your ears with the mention of the continual +stream of omnibuses by means of which you may reach the other end of +Paris for six sous. And there might be a possibility of taking a small +apartment for you in this very house. See how I castle-build. + +But if the Crystal Palace vanishes from the face of the earth, who shall +trust any more in castles? Will they really pull it down, do you think? +If it's a bubble, it's a glass bubble, and not meant, therefore, for +bursting in the air, it seems to me. And you do want a place in England +for sculpture, and also to show people how olives grow. What a beautiful +winter garden it would be! But they will pull it down, perhaps; and +then, the last we shall have seen of it will be in this description of +your letter, and _that's_ seeing it worthily, too. + +We were from home last night; we went to Lady Elgin's reception, and met +a Madame Mohl, who was entertaining, and is to come to us this morning-- + +She came as I wrote those words. She knows _you_, among her other +advantages, and we have been talking of you, dear friend, and we are +going to her on Friday evening to see some of the French. I shall have +to go to prison very soon, I suppose, as usual, for the winter months, +for here is the twenty-first of October, though this is the first fire +we have had occasion for. It was colder this morning, but we have had +exquisite weather, really, ever since we left England. + +The 'elf' is flourishing in all good fairyhood, with a scarlet rose leaf +on each cheek. Wilson says she never knew him to have such an +irreproachable appetite. He is charmed with Paris, and its magnificent +Punches, and roundabouts, and balloons--which last he says, looking up +after them gravely, 'go to God.' The child has curious ideas about +theology already. He is of opinion that God 'lives among the birds.' He +has taken to calling himself '_Peninni_,'[3] which sounds something like +a fairy's name, though he means it for 'Wiedeman.' + +Robert is in good spirits, and inclined to like Paris increasingly. Do +you know I think you have an idea in England that you monopolise +comforts, and I, for one, can't admit it. These snug 'apartments' +exclude the draughty passages and staircases, which threaten your life +every time that you run to your bedroom for a pocket-handkerchief in +England. I much prefer the Continental houses to the English ones, both +for winter and summer, on this account. + +So glad I am that you are nearly at the end of your work. To rest after +work, what more than rest that always is! + +Write to us often--do! We are not in Italy, and you have no excuse for +even _seeming_ to forget us. We are full in sight still, remember. + +Are you aware that Carlyle travelled with us to Paris? He left a deep +impression with me. It is difficult to conceive of a more interesting +human soul, I think. All the bitterness is love with the point reversed. +He seems to me to have a profound sensibility--so profound and turbulent +that it unsettles his general sympathies. Do you guess what I mean the +least in the world? or is it as dark as my writings are of course? + +I hope on every account you will have no increase of domestic care. How +is Miss Procter? How kind everybody was to us in England, and how +affectionately we remember it! God bless you yourself! We love you for +the past and the present, besides the future in December. + +Your attached +E.B.B. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +[Paris,] 138 Avenue des Champs-Elysees: +October 22, [1851]. + +The pause in writing has come from the confusion in living, my ever +dearest Miss Mitford, and no worse cause. It was a long while before we +could settle ourselves in a private apartment, and we had to stay at the +hotel and wander about like doves turned out of the dove-cote, and +seeking where to inhabit.... We have seen nothing in Paris, except the +shell of it, yet. No theatres--nothing but business. Yet two evenings +ago we hazarded going to a 'reception' at Lady Elgin's, in the Faubourg +St. Germain, and saw some French, but nobody of distinction. It is a +good house, I believe, and she has an earnest face which must mean +something. We were invited, and _are_ invited to go every Monday, and +that Monday in particular, between eight and twelve. You go in a morning +dress, and there is tea. Nothing can be more _sans facon_, and my +tremors (for, do you know, I was quite nervous on the occasion, and +charged Robert to keep close to me) were perfectly unjustified by the +event. You see it was an untried form of society--like trying a Turkish +bath. I expected to see Balzac's duchesses and _hommes de lettres_ on +all sides of me, but there was nothing very noticeable, I think, though +we found it agreeable enough. We go on Friday evening to a Madame +Mohl's, where we are to have some of the 'celebrities,' I believe, for +she seems to know everybody of all colours, from white to red. Then +Mazzini is to give us a letter to George Sand--come what will, we must +have a letter to George Sand--and Robert has one to Emile Lorquet of the +'National,' and Gavarni of the 'Charivari,' so that we shall manage to +thrust our heads into this atmosphere of Parisian journalism, and learn +by experience how it smells. I hear that George Sand is seldom at Paris +now. She has devoted herself to play-writing, and employs a houseful of +men, her son's friends and her own, in acting privately with her what +she writes--trying it on a home stage before she tries it at Paris. Her +son is a very ordinary young man of three-and-twenty, but she is fond of +him.... + +Never expect me to agree with you in that _cause celebre_ of 'ladies and +gentlemen' against people of letters. I don't like the sort of veneer +which passes in society--yes, I like it, but I don't love it. I know +what the thing is worth as a matter of furniture-accomplishment, and +there an end. I should rather look at the scratched silent violin in the +corner, with the sense that music has come out of it or will come. I am +grateful to the man who has written a good book, and I recognise +reverently that the roots of it are in him. And, do you know, I was not +disappointed at all in what I saw of writers of books in London; no, not +at all. Carlyle, for instance, I liked infinitely more in his +personality than I expected to like him, and I saw a great deal of him, +for he travelled with us to Paris and spent several evenings with us, we +three together. He is one of the most interesting men I could imagine +even, deeply interesting to me; and you come to understand perfectly, +when you know him, that his bitterness is only melancholy, and his scorn +sensibility. Highly picturesque too he is in conversation. The talk of +writing men is very seldom as good. + +And, do you know, I was much taken, in London, with a young authoress, +Geraldine Jewsbury. You have read her books. There's a French sort of +daring, half-audacious power in them, but she herself is quiet and +simple, and drew my heart out of me a good deal. I felt inclined to love +her in our half-hour's intercourse. And I liked Lady Eastlake too in +another way, the 'lady' of the 'Letters from the Baltic,' nay, I liked +her better than the 'lady'.... + +Do write to me and tell me of your house, whether you are settling down +in it comfortably[4]. In every new house there's a good deal of bird's +work in treading and shuffling down the loose sticks and straws, before +one can feel it is to be a nest. Robert laughs at me sometimes for +pushing about the chairs and tables in a sort of distracted way, but +it's the very instinct of making a sympathetical home, that works in me. +We were miserably off in London. I couldn't tuck myself in anyhow. And +we enjoy in proportion these luxurious armchairs, so good for the +Lollards. + +People say that the troops which pass before our windows every few days +through the 'Arc de l'Etoile' to be reviewed will bring the President +back with them as 'emperor' some sunny morning not far off. As to +waiting till _May_, nobody expects it. There is a great inward +agitation, but the surface of things is smooth enough. Be constant, be +constant! Constancy is a rare virtue even where it is not an undeniable +piece of wisdom. Vive Napoleon II.! + +As to the book, ah, you are always, and have always been, too good to +_me_, that's quite certain; and if you are not too good to my husband, +it is only because I am persuaded in my secret soul nobody _can_ be too +good to him. + +He sends you his warm regards, and I send you a kiss of baby's, who is +finishing his Babylonish education, unfortunate child, by learning a +complement of French. I assure you he understands everything you can say +to him in English as well as Italian, so that he won't be utterly +denationalised. + +God bless you. Say how you are and write soon. + +Your ever affectionate +E.B.B. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +[Paris,] 138 Avenue des Champs-Elysees: +November 12, 1851. + +I see your house, my beloved friend, and clap my hands for pleasure. It +will suit you admirably, I see, plainly from Paris, and how right you +are about the pretty garden, not to make it fine and modern; you have +the right instincts about such things, and are too strong for Mrs. +Loudon and the landscape gardeners. The only defect apparent to me at +this distance is the size of the sitting room.... If you were to see +what we call 'an apartment' in Paris! We have just a slip of a kitchen, +and no passage, no staircase to take up the space, which is altogether +_spent_ upon sitting and sleeping rooms. Talk of English comforts! It's +a national delusion. The comfort of the Continental way of life has only +to be tested to be recognised (with the exception of the locks of doors +and windows, which are _barbaric_ here, there's no other word for it). +The economy of a habitation is understood in Paris. You have the +advantages of a large house without the disadvantages, without the +coldness, without the dearness. And the beds, chairs, and sofas are +perfect things. + +But the climate is not perfect, it seems, for we have had very cold +weather the last ten days, and I am a prisoner as usual. Our friends +swear to us that it is exceptional weather and that it will be warmer +presently, and I listen with a sort of 'doubtful doubt' worthy of a +metaphysician. It is some comfort to hear that it's below zero in London +meanwhile, and that Scotland stands eight feet deep in snow. + +We have a letter for George Sand (directed _a Madame George Sand_) from +Mazzini, and we hear that she is to be in Paris within twelve days. Then +we must make a rush and present it, for her stay here is not likely to +be long, and I would not miss seeing her for a great deal, though I have +not read one of her late dramas, and only by faith understand that her +wonderful genius has conquered new kingdoms. Her last romance, 'Le +Chateau des Deserts,' is treated disdainfully in the 'Athenaeum.' I have +not read _that_ even, but Mr. Chorley is apt to be cold towards French +writers and I don't expect his judgment as final therefore. Have you +seen M. de la Mare's correspondence with Mirabeau? And do you ever catch +sight of the 'Revue des Deux Mondes'? In the August number is an +excellent and most pleasant article on my husband, elaborately written +and so highly appreciatory as well nigh to satisfy _me_.[5] 'Set you +down this' that there has sprung up in France lately an ardent +admiration of the present English schools of poetry, or rather of the +poetry produced by the present English schools, which they consider _an +advance upon the poetry of the ages_. Think of _this_, you English +readers who are still wearing broad hems and bombazeens for the Byron +and Scott glorious days! + +Let me think what I can tell you of the President. I have never seen his +face, though he has driven past me in the boulevards, and past these +windows constantly, but it is said that he is very like his +portraits--and, yes, rumour and the gazettes speak of his riding well. +Wilson and Wiedeman had an excellent view of him the other day as he +turned into a courtyard to pay some visit, and she tells me that his +carriage was half full of petitions and nosegays thrown through the +windows. What a fourth act of a play we are in just now! It is difficult +to guess at the catastrophe. Certainly he must be very sure of his hold +on the people to propose repealing the May edict,[6] and yet there are +persons who persist in declaring that nobody cares for him and that even +a revision of the constitution will not bring about his re-election. _I_ +am of an opposite mind; though there is not much overt enthusiasm of the +population in behalf of his person. Still, this may arise from a quiet +resolve to keep him where he is, and an assurance that he can't be +ousted in spite of the people and army. It is significant, I think, that +Emile de Girardin should stretch out a hand (a little dirty, be it +observed in passing), and that Lamartine, after fasting nineteen days +and nights (a miraculous fast, without fear of the 'prefect'), should +murmur a 'credo' in favour of his honesty. As to honesty, 'I do believe +he's honest;' that is to say, he has acted out no dishonesty _as yet_, +and we have no right to interpret doubtful texts into dishonorable +allegations. But for ambition--for ambition! Answer from the depth of +your conscience, 'de profundis.' Is he or is he not an ambitious man? +Does he or does he not mean in his soul to be Napoleon the Second? Yes, +yes--I think, you think, we all think. + +Robert's father and sister have been paying us a visit during the last +three weeks. They are very affectionate to me, and I love them for his +sake and their own, and am very sorry at the thought of losing them, +which we are on the point of doing. We hope, however, to establish them +in Paris if we can stay, and if no other obstacle should arise before +the spring, when they must leave Hatcham. Little Wiedeman _draws_; as +you may suppose, he is adored by his grandpapa; and then, Robert! they +are an affectionate family and not easy when removed one from another. +Sarianna is full of accomplishment and admirable sense, even-tempered +and excellent in all ways--devoted to her father as she was to her +mother: indeed, the relations of life seem reversed in their case, and +the father appears the child of the child.... + +Perhaps you have not seen Eugene Sue's 'Mysteres de Paris'--and I am not +deep in the first volume yet. Fancy the wickedness and stupidity of +trying to revive the distinctions and hatreds of race between the Gauls +and Franks. The Gauls, please to understand, are the 'proletaires,' and +the capitalists are the Frank invaders (call them Cosaques, says Sue) +out of the forests of Germany!... + +I saw no Mr. Harness; and no Talfourd of any kind. The latter was a kind +of misadventure, as Lady Talfourd was on the point of calling on me when +Robert would not let her. We were going away just then. Mr. Horne I had +the satisfaction of seeing several times--you know how much regard I +feel for him. One evening he had the kindness to bring his wife miles +upon miles just to drink tea with us, and we were to have spent a day +with them somehow, half among the fields, but engagements came betwixt +us adversely. She is less pretty and more interesting than I +expected--looking very young, her black glossy hair hanging down her +back in ringlets; with deep earnest eyes, and a silent listening manner. +He was full of the 'Household Words,' and seems to write articles +together with Dickens--which must be highly unsatisfactory, as Dickens's +name and fame swallow up every sort of minor reputation in the shadow of +his path. I shouldn't like, for my part (and if I were a fish), to herd +with crocodiles. But I suppose the 'Household Words' _pay_--and that's a +consideration. 'Claudie' I have not read. We have only just subscribed +to a library, and we have been absorbed a good deal by our visitors.... + +Write and don't leave off loving me. I will tell you of everybody +noticeable whom I happen to see, and of George Sand among the first. + +Love your ever affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +[Paris,] 138 Avenue des Champs-Elysees: +December 10, [1851]. + +I receive your letter, dearest friend, and hasten to write a few brief +words to save the post. + +We have suffered neither fear nor danger--and I would not have missed +the grand spectacle of the second of December[7] for anything in the +world--scarcely, I say, for the sight of the Alps. + +On the only day in which there was much fighting (Thursday), Wiedeman +was taken out to walk as usual, under the precaution of keeping in the +immediate neighbourhood of this house. This will prove to you how little +we have feared for ourselves. + +But the natural emotion of the situation one could not escape from, and +on Thursday night I sate up in my dressing gown till nearly one, +listening to the distant firing from the boulevards. Thursday was the +only day in which there was fighting of any serious kind. There has been +_no resistance_ on the part of the real people--nothing but sympathy for +the President, I _believe_, if you except the natural mortification and +disappointment of baffled parties. To judge from our own tradespeople: +'il a bien fait! c'est le vrai neveu de son oncle!' such phrases rung on +every tone expressed the prevailing sentiment. + +For my own part I have not only more hope in the situation but more +faith in the French people than is ordinary among the English, who +really try to exceed one another in discoloration and distortion of the +circumstances. The government was in a deadlock--what was to be done? +Yes, all parties cried out, 'What was to be done?' and felt that we were +waist deep a fortnight ago in a state of crisis. In throwing back the +sovereignty from a 'representative assembly' which had virtually ceased +to represent, into the hands of the people, I think that Louis Napoleon +did well. The talk about 'military despotism' is absolute nonsense. The +French army is eminently civic, and nations who take their ideas from +the very opposite fact of a _standing army_ are far from understanding +how absolutely a French soldier and French citizen are the same thing. +The independence of the elections seems to be put out of reach of +injury; and intelligent men of adverse opinions to the government think +that the majority will be large in its favour. Such a majority would +certainly justify Louis Napoleon, or _should_--even with you in England. + +I think you quite understate the amount of public virtue in France. The +difficulties of statesmanship here are enormous. I do not accuse even M. +Thiers of want of public virtue. What he has wanted, has been length and +breadth of view--purely an intellectual defect--and his petty, puny +_tracasseries_ destroyed the Republican Assembly just as it destroyed +the throne of Louis Philippe, in spite of his own intentions. + +There is a conflict of ideas in France, which we have no notion of in +England, but we ought to understand that it does not involve the failing +of _principle_, in the elemental moral sense. Be just to France, dear +friend, you who are more than an Englishwoman--a Mrs. Jameson! + +Everything is perfectly tranquil in Paris, I assure you--theatres full +and galleries open as usual. At the same time, timid and discouraged +persons say, 'Wait till after the elections,' and of course the public +emotion will be a good deal excited at that time. Therefore, judge for +yourself. For my own part I have not had the slightest cause for alarm +of any kind--and there is my child! Judge.... + +The weather is exquisite, and I am going out to walk directly. It is +scarcely possible to bear a fire, and some of our friends sit with the +window open. We are all well. + +This should have gone to you yesterday, but we had visitors who talked +past post time. The delay, however, has allowed of my writing more than +I meant to have done in beginning this letter. Robert's best love. + +Your ever affectionate +BA. + +Robert says that according to the impression of the wisest there can be +no danger. Don't wait till after the elections. The time is most +interesting, and it is well worth your while to come and see for +yourself. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +[Paris,] 138 Avenue des Champs-Elysees: +December 11, [1851]. + +To show how alive I am, dearest Mrs. Martin, I will tell you that I have +just come home from a long walk to the Tuileries. We took a carriage to +return, that's true. Then yesterday I was out, besides, and last +Saturday, _the 6th_, we drove down the boulevards to see the field of +action on the terrible Thursday (the only day on which there was any +fighting of consequence), counting the holes in the walls bored by the +cannon, and looking at the windows smashed in. Even then, though the +asphalte was black with crowds, the quiet was absolute, and most of the +shops reopened. On Sunday the theatres were as full as usual, and our +Champs-Elysees had quite its complement of promenaders. Wiedeman's +prophecy had not been carried out, any more than the prophecies of the +wiser may--the soldiers had not shot Punch. + +And now I do beg you not to be down-hearted. See, if French blood runs +in your veins, that you don't take a pedantic view of this question like +an Englishwoman. Constitutional forms and essential principles of +liberty are so associated in England, that they are apt to be +confounded, and are, in fact, constantly confounded. For my part, I am +too good a democrat to be afraid of being thrown back upon the primitive +popular element, from impossible paper constitutions and unrepresenting +representative assemblies. The situation was in a deadlock, and all the +conflicting parties were full of dangerous hope of taking advantage of +it; and I don't see, for my part, what better could be done for the +French nation than to sweep the board clear and bid them begin again. +With no sort of prejudice in favour of Louis Napoleon (except, I confess +to you, some artistical admiration for the consummate ability and +courage shown in his _coup d'etat_), with no particular faith in the +purity of his patriotism, I yet hold him justified _so far_, that is, I +hold that a pure patriot would be perfectly justifiable in taking the +same steps which up to this moment he has taken. He has broken, +certainly, the husk of an oath, but fidelity to the intention of it +seems to me reconcilable with the breach; and if he had not felt that he +had the great mass of the people to back him, he is at least too able a +man, be certain, if not too honest a man, to have dared what he has +dared. You will see the result of the elections. As to Paris, don't +believe that Paris suffers violence from Louis Napoleon. The result of +my own impressions is a conviction that _from the beginning_ he had the +sympathy of the whole population here with him, to speak generally, and +exclusively of particular parties. All our tradespeople, for instance, +milkman, breadman, wine merchant, and the rest, yes, even the shrewd old +washerwoman, and the concierge, and our little lively servant were in a +glow of sympathy and admiration. 'Mais, c'est le vrai neveu de son +oncle! il est admirable! enfin la patrie sera sauvee.' The bourgeoisie +has now accepted the situation, it is admitted on all hands. 'Scandalous +adhesion!' say some. 'Dreadful apathy!' say others. Don't _you_ say +either one or the other, or I think you will be unjust to Paris and +France. + +The French people are very democratical in their tendencies, but they +must have a visible type of hero-worship, and they find it in the bearer +of that name Napoleon. That name is the only tradition dear to them, and +it is deeply dear. That a man bearing it, and appealing at the same time +to the whole people upon democratical principles, should be answered +from the heart of the people, should neither astonish, nor shame, nor +enrage anybody. + +An editor of the 'National,' a friend of ours, feels this so much, that +he gnashes his teeth over the imprudence of the extreme Reds, who did +not set themselves to trample out the fires of Buonapartism while they +had some possibility of doing it. 'Ce peuple a la tete _dure_,' said he +vehemently. + +As to military despotism, would France bear _that_, do you think? Is the +French army, besides, made after the fashion of standing armies, such as +we see in other countries? Are they not eminently _civic_, flesh of the +people's flesh? I fear no military despotism for France, oh, none. Every +soldier is a citizen, and every citizen is or has been a soldier. + +Altogether, instead of despairing, I am full of hope. It seems to me +probable that the door is open to a wider and calmer political liberty +than France has yet enjoyed. Let us wait. + +The American _forms_ of republicanism are most uncongenial to this +artistic people; but democratical institutions will deepen and broaden, +I think, even if we should soon all be talking of the 'Empire.' + +As to the repressive measures, why, grant the righteousness of the +movement, and you must accept its conditions. Don't believe the +tremendous exaggerations you are likely to hear on all sides--don't, I +beseech you. + +The President rode under our windows on December 2, through a shout +extending from the Carrousel to the Arc de l'Etoile. The troups poured +in as we stood and looked. No sight could be grander, and I would not +have missed it, not for the Alps, I say. + +You say nothing specific. How I should like to know _why_ exactly you +are out of spirits, and whether dear Mr. Martin is sad too. Robert and I +have had some domestic _emeutes_, because he hates some imperial names; +yet he confessed to me last night that the excessive and contradictory +nonsense he had heard among Legitimists, Orleanists, and _English_, +against the movement inclined him almost to a revulsion of feeling. + +I would have written to you to-day, even if I had not received your +letter. You will forgive that what I have written should have been +scratched in the utmost haste to save the post. I can't even read it +over. There's the effect of going out to walk the first thing in the +morning.... + +Your ever affectionate +BA--to both of you. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +[Paris,] 138 Avenue des Champs-Elysees: +Christmas Eve, [1851]. + +What can you have thought of me? That I was shot or deserved to be? +Forgive in the first instance, dearest friend, and believe that I won't +behave so any more, if in any way I can help it. + +Tell me your thought now about L. Napoleon. He rode under our windows on +December 2 through an immense shout from the Carrousel to the Arc de +l'Etoile. There was the army and the sun of Austerlitz, and even I +thought it one of the grandest of sights; for he rode there in the name +of the people, after all.... + +But we know men most opposed to him, writers of the old 'Presse' and +'National,' and Orleanists, and Legitimists, and the fury of all such I +can scarcely express to you after the life. Emile de Girardin and his +friends had a sublime scheme of going over in a body to England, and +establishing a Socialist periodical, inscribing on their new habitation, +'Ici c'est la France.' He actually advertised for sale his beautiful +house close by in the Champs-Elysees, asked ten thousand pounds +(English) for it; and would have been 'rather disappointed,' as one of +his sympathising friends confessed to us, if the offer had been +accepted. I heard a good story the other day. A lady visitor was +groaning politically to Madame de Girardin over the desperateness of the +situation. 'Il n'y a que Celui, qui est en haut, qui peut nous en +tirer,' said she, casting up her eyes. 'Oui, c'est vrai,' replied +Madame, 'il le pourrait, lui,' glancing towards the second floor, where +Emile was at work upon feuilletons. Not that she mistakes him habitually +for her deity, by any manner of means, if scandal is to be listened to. + +I hear that Lamennais is profoundly disgusted. He said to a friend of +ours, that the French people were 'putrefied to the heart.' Which means +that they have one tradition still dear to them (the name of Napoleon) +and that they put no faith in the Socialistic prophets. Wise or unwise +they may be accordingly; but an affection and an apprehension can't +reasonably be said to amount to a 'putrefaction,' I think. No, indeed. + +Louis Napoleon is said to say (a bitter foe of his told me this) that +'there will be four phases of his life.' The first was all rashness and +imprudence, but 'it was necessary to make him known:' the second, 'the +struggle with and triumph over anarchy:' the third, 'the settlement of +France and the pacification of Europe:' the fourth, a _coup de pistolet. +Se non e vero, e ben trovato._ Nothing is more likely than the +catastrophe in any case; and the violence of the passions excited in the +minority makes me wonder at his surviving a day even. Do you know I +heard your idol of a Napoleon (the antique hero) called the other +evening through a black beard and gnashing teeth, 'le plus grand +scelerat du monde,' and his empire, 'le regne du Satan,' and his +marshals, 'les coquins.' After that, I won't tell you that 'le neveu' is +reproached with every iniquity possible to anybody's public and private +life. Perhaps he is not 'sans reproche' in respect to the latter, not +altogether; but one can't believe, and oughtn't, even infinitesimally, +the things which are talked on the subject.... + +Ah, I am so vexed about George Sand. She came, she has gone, and we +haven't met! There was a M. Francois who pretended to be her very very +particular friend, and who managed the business so particularly ill, +from some motive or some incapacity, that he did not give us an +opportunity of presenting our letter. He did not '_dare_' to present it +for us, he said. She is shy--she distrusts bookmaking strangers, and she +intended to be incognita while in Paris. He proposed that we should +leave it at the theatre, and Robert refused. Robert said he wouldn't +have our letter mixed up with the love letters of the actresses, or +perhaps given to the 'premier comique' to read aloud in the green room, +as a relief to the 'Chere adorable,' which had produced so much +laughter. Robert was a little proud and M. Francois very stupid; and I, +between the two, in a furious state of dissent from either. Robert tries +to smooth down my ruffled plumage now, by promising to look out for some +other opportunity, but the late one has gone. She is said to have +appeared in Paris in a bloom of recovered beauty and brilliancy of eyes, +and the success of her play, 'Le Mariage de Victorine,' was complete. A +strange, wild, wonderful woman, certainly. While she was here, she used +a bedroom which belongs to her son--a mere 'chambre de garcon'--and for +the rest, saw whatever friends she chose to see only at the 'cafe,' +where she breakfasted and dined. She has just finished a romance, we +hear, and took fifty-two nights to write it. She writes only at night. +People call her Madame Sand. There seems to be no other name for her in +society or letters. + +Now listen. Alexandre Dumas _does_ write his own books, that's a fact. +You know I always maintained it, through the odour of Dumas in the +books, but people swore the contrary with great foolish oaths worth +nothing. Maquet prepares historical materials, gathers together notes, +and so on, but Dumas writes every word of his books with his own hand, +and with a facility amounting to inspiration, said my informant. He +called him a great savage negro child. If he has twenty sous and wants +bread, he buys a pretty cane instead. For the rest, 'bon enfant,' kind +and amiable. An inspired negro child! In debt at this moment, after all +the sums he has made, said my informant--himself a most credible witness +and highly cultivated man. + +I heard of Eugene Sue, too, yesterday. Our child is invited to a +Christmas tree and party, and Robert says he is too young to go, but I +persist in sending him for half an hour with Wilson--oh, really I +must--though he will be by far the youngest of the thirty children +invited. The lady of the house, Miss Fitton, an English resident in +Paris, an elderly woman, shrewd and kind, said to Robert that she had a +great mind to have Eugene Sue, only he was so scampish. I think that was +the word, or something alarmingly equivalent. Now I should like to see +Eugene Sue with my little innocent child in his arms; the idea of the +combination pleases me somewhat. But I sha'n't see it in any case. We +had three cold days last week, which brought back my cough and took away +my voice. I am dumb for the present and can't go out any more.... + +At last I have caught sight of an advertisement of your book. A very +catching title, and if I mayn't compliment you upon it, I certainly do +your publisher. I dare say the book is charming, and the more of +yourself in it, the more charming. + +Write, and say how you are always when you write. Say, too, how you +continue to like your new house. We heard a good deal of you from Mr. +Fields, though he came to us only once. With him came Mr. Longfellow, +the poet's brother, who is at present in Paris--I mean the brother, not +the poet. Robert's love, may I say? + +Wiedeman has struck up two friendships: one, with the small daughter of +our concierge and one with a little Russian princess, a month younger +than himself. He calls them both 'boys,' having no idea yet of the less +sublime sex, but he likes the plebeian best. May God make you happy on +this and other seasons! + +Love your affectionate and grateful +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +[Paris,] 138 Avenue des Champs-Elysees: +January 17, [1852]. + +My dearest Mrs. Martin,--If you think I have not written to you, you +must be (as you are) the most lenient of friends, not to give me up for +ever. I answered your first letter by return of post and at great +length. About a fortnight ago, Robert heard from Madame Mohl, who heard +from somebody at Pau that you were 'waiting anxiously to hear from me,' +upon which I wrote a second letter. And that, too, did not reach you? Is +it possible? But I am innocent, innocent, innocent. See how innocent. +Now, if M. le President has stopped my letters, or if he ponders in his +imperial mind how to send me out of Paris, he is as ungrateful as a +king, because I have been taking his part all this time at a great cost +of domestic _emeutes_. So you would have known, if you had received my +letters. The _coup d'etat_ was a grand thing, dramatically and +poetically speaking, and the appeal to the people justified it in my +eyes, considering the immense difficulty of the circumstances, the +impossibility of the old constitution and the impracticability of the +House of Assembly. Now that's all over. For the rest--the new +constitution--I can't say as much for it; it disappoints me immensely. +Absolute government, _no_, while the taxes and acceptance of law lies, +as he leaves it, with the people; but there are stupidities undeniable, +I am afraid, and how such a constitution is to _work_, and how marshals +and cardinals are to help to work it, remains to be seen. I fear we have +not made a good change even from the 'constitution Marrast'[8] after +all. The English newspapers have made me so angry, that I scarcely know +whether I am as much ashamed, yet the shame is very great. As if the +people of France had not a right to vote as they pleased![9] We +understand nothing in England. As Cousin said, long ago, we are +'insular' of understanding. France may be mistaken in her speculations, +as she often is; and if any mistake has been lately committed, it will +be corrected by herself in a short time. Ignoble in her speculations she +never is.... + +I must tell you, my dearest friend, that for some days past I have been +very much upset, and am scarcely now fairly on my feet again, in +consequence of becoming suddenly aware of a painful indiscretion +committed by an affectionate and generous woman. I refer to Miss +Mitford's account of me in her new book.[10] We heard of it in a strange +way, through M. Philaret Chasles, of the College de France, beginning a +course of lectures on English literature, and announcing an extended +notice of E.B.B., 'the veil from whose private life had lately been +raised by Miss Mitford.' Somebody who happened to be present told us of +it, and while we were wondering and uncomfortable, up came a writer in +the 'Revue des Deux Mondes' to consult Robert upon a difficulty he was +in. He was engaged, he said, upon an article relating to me, and the +proprietors of the review had sent him a number of the 'Athenaeum,' which +contained an extract from Miss M.'s book, desiring him to make use of +the biographical details. Now it struck him immediately, he said, on +reading the passage, that it was likely to give me great pain, and he +was so unwilling to be the means of giving me more pain that he came to +Robert to ask him how he should act. Do observe the delicacy and +sensibility of this man--a man, a foreigner, a Frenchman! I shall be +grateful to him as long as I live.[11] + +Robert has seen the extract in the 'Athenaeum.' It refers to the great +affliction of my life, with the most affectionate intentions and the +obtusest understanding. I know I am morbid, but this thing should not +have been done indeed. Now, I shall be liable to see recollections +dreadful to me, thrust into every vulgar notice of my books. I shall be +afraid to see my books reviewed anywhere. Oh! I have been so deeply +shaken by all this. _You_ will understand, I am certain, and I could not +help speaking of it to you, because I was certain. + +I am answering your note, observe, by return of post. Do let me know if +you receive what I write this time. Robert will direct for me, having +faith in his superior legibleness, and I accept the insult implied in +the opinion. + +God bless you. Do write. And never doubt my grateful affection for you, +whether posts go ill or well. + +Robert is going out to inquire about 'My Novel.' His warm regards with +mine to dear Mr. Martin and yourself. This is a scratch rather than a +letter, but I would rather send it to you in haste than wait for another +post. + +Your ever affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +The following letter marks the beginning of a new friendship, with Miss +Mulock, afterwards Mrs. Craik, the authoress of 'John Halifax, +Gentleman.' The subsequent letters are in very affectionate tones, but +it does not appear that the correspondence ever reached any very +extended dimensions. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mulock_ + +Paris, 138 Avenue des Champs-Elysees: +January 21, [1852]. + +I hear from England that you have dedicated a book to me with too kind +and most touching words. To thank you for such a proof of sympathy, to +thank you from my heart, cannot surely be a wrong thing to do, it seems +so natural and comes from so irresistible an impulse. + +I read a book of yours once at Florence, which first made [me] know you +pleasantly, and afterwards (that was at Florence, too) there came a +piercing touch from a hand in the air--whether yours also, I cannot dare +to guess--which has preoccupied me a good deal since. If I speak to you +in mysteries, forgive me. Let it be clear at least, that I am very happy +to be grateful to you for the honor you have done me in your dedication, +and that my husband, moved more, as he always is, by honor paid to me +than to himself, thanks you beside. I will not keep back his thanks, +which are worth more than mine can be. + +For the rest, we have, neither of us, seen the book yet, nor even read +an exact copy of the words in question. Only the rumour of them appears +to run that I am 'not likely ever to see you.' And why am I never to see +you, pray? Unlikelier pleasures have been granted to me, and I will not +indeed lose hold of the hope of this pleasure. + +Allow it to + +Your always obliged +ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +[Paris,] 138 Avenue des Champs-Elysees: +[January-February 1852]. + +My very dear friend, let me begin what I have to say by recognising you +as the most generous and affectionate of friends. I never could mistake +the least of your intentions; you were always, from first to last, kind +and tenderly indulgent to me--always exaggerating what was good in me, +always forgetting what was faulty and weak--keeping me by force of +affection in a higher place than I could aspire to by force of vanity; +loving me always, in fact. Now let me tell you the truth. It will prove +how hard it is for the tenderest friends to help paining one another, +since _you_ have pained _me_. See what a deep wound I must have in me, +to be pained by the touch of such a hand. Oh, I am morbid, I very well +know. But the truth is that I have been miserably upset by your book, +and that if I had had the least imagination of your intending to touch +upon certain biographical details in relation to me, I would have +conjured you by your love to me and by my love to you, to forbear it +altogether. You cannot understand; no, you cannot understand with all +your wide sympathy (perhaps, because you are not morbid, and I am), the +sort of susceptibility I have upon one subject. I have lived heart to +heart (for instance) with my husband these five years: I have never yet +spoken out, in a whisper even, what is in me; never yet could find heart +or breath; never yet could bear to hear a word of reference from his +lips. And now those dreadful words are going the round of the +newspapers, to be verified here, commented on there, gossiped about +everywhere; and I, for my part, am frightened to look at a paper as a +child in the dark--as unreasonably, you will say--but what then? what +drives us mad is our unreason. I will tell you how it was. First of all, +an English acquaintance here told us that she had been hearing a lecture +at the College de France, and that the professor, M. Philaret Chasles, +in the introduction to a series of lectures on English poetry, had +expressed his intention of noticing Tennyson, Browning, &c., and +E.B.B.--'from whose private life the veil had been raised in so +interesting a manner lately by Miss Mitford.' In the midst of my anxiety +about this, up comes a writer of the 'Revue des Deux Mondes' to my +husband, to say that he was preparing a review upon me and had been +directed by the editor to make use of some biographical details +extracted from your book into the 'Athenaeum,' but that it had occurred +to him doubtfully whether certain things might not be painful to me, and +whether I might not prefer their being omitted in his paper. (All this +time we had seen neither book nor 'Athenaeum.') Robert answered for me +that the omission of such and such things would be much preferred by me, +and accordingly the article appears in the 'Revue' with the passage from +your book garbled and curtailed as seemed best to the quoter. Then +Robert set about procuring the 'Athenaeum' in question. He tells me (and +_that_ I perfectly believe) that, for the facts to be given at all, they +could not possibly be given with greater delicacy; oh, and I will add +for myself, that for them to be related by anyone during my life, I +would rather have _you_ to relate them than another. But why should they +be related during my life? There was no need, no need. To show my +nervous susceptibility in the length and breadth of it to you, I _could +not_ (when it came to the point) _bear to read_ the passage extracted in +the 'Athenaeum,' notwithstanding my natural anxiety to see exactly what +was done. I could not bear to do it. I made Robert read it aloud--with +omissions--so that I know all your kindness. I feel it deeply; through +tears of pain I feel it; and if, as I dare say you will, you think me +very very foolish, do not on that account think me ungrateful. +Ungrateful I never can be to you, my much loved and kindest friend. + +I hear your book is considered one of your best productions, and I do +not doubt that the opinion is just. Thank you for giving it to us, thank +you. + +I don't like to send you a letter from Paris without a word about your +hero--'handsome,' I fancy not, nor the imperial type. I have not seen +his face distinctly. What do you think about the constitution? Will it +work, do you fancy, now-a-days in France? The initiative of the laws, +put out of the power of the legislative assembly, seems to me a +stupidity; and the senators, in their fine dresses, make me wink a +little. Also, I hear that the 'senatorial cardinals' don't please the +peasants, who hate the priesthood as much as they hate the 'Cossacks.' +On the other hand, Montalembert was certainly in bed the other day with +vexation, because 'nobody could do anything with Louis Napoleon--he was +obstinate;' 'nous nous en lavons les mains,' and that fact gives me hope +that not too much indulgence is intended to the Church. There's to be a +ball at the Tuileries with 'court dresses,' which is 'un peu fort' for +a republic. By the way, rumour (with apparent authority justifying it) +says, that a black woman opened her mouth and prophesied to him at Ham, +'he should be the head of the French nation, and be assassinated in a +ball-room.' I was assured that he believes the prophecy firmly, 'being +in all things too superstitious' and fatalistical. + +I was interrupted in this letter yesterday. Meantime comes out the +decree against the Orleans property, which I disapprove of altogether. +It's the worst thing yet done, to my mind. Yet the Bourse stands fast, +and the decree is likely enough to be popular with the ouvrier class. +There are rumours of tremendously wild financial measures, only I +believe in no rumours just now, and apparently the Bourse is as +incredulous on this particular point. If I thought (as people say) that +we are on the verge of a 'law' declaring the Roman Catholic religion the +State religion, I should give him up at once; but this would be contrary +to the traditions of the Empire, and I can't suppose it to be probable +on any account. + +Observe, I am no Napoleonist. I am simply a _democrat_, and hold that +the majority of a nation has the right of choice upon the question of +its own government, _even where it makes a mistake_. Therefore the +outcry of the English newspapers is most disgusting to me. For the rest, +one can hardly do strict justice, at this time of transition, to the +ultimate situation of the country; we must really wait a little, till +the wind and rain shall have ceased to dash so in one's eyes. The wits +go on talking, though, all the same; and I heard a suggestion yesterday, +that, for the effaced 'Liberte, egalite, fraternite,' should be written +up, 'Infanterie, cavallerie, artillerie.' That's the last 'mot,' I +believe. The salons are very noisy. A lady was ordered to her country +seat the other day for exclaiming, 'Et il n'y a pas de Charlotte +Corday.' + +Forgive, with this dull letter, my other defects. Always I am frank to +you, saying what is in my heart; and there is always there, dearest Miss +Mitford, a fruitful and grateful affection to you from your + +E.B.B. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +[Paris], 138 Avenue des Ch.-Elysees: +February 15, [1852]. + +Thank you, thank you, my beloved friend. Yes; I do understand in my +heart all your kindness. Yes, I do believe that on some points I am full +of disease; and this has exposed me several times to shocks of pain in +the ordinary intercourse of the world, which for bystanders were hard, I +dare say, to make out. Once at the Baths of Lucca I was literally nearly +struck down to the ground by a single word said in all kindness by a +friend whom I had not seen for ten years. The blue sky reeled over me, +and I caught at something, not to fall. Well, there is no use dwelling +on this subject. I understand your affectionateness and tender +consideration, I repeat, and thank you; and love you, which is better. +Now, let us talk of reasonable things. + +Beranger lives close to us, and Robert has seen him in his white hat +wandering along the asphalte. I had a notion somehow that he was very +old; but he is only elderly, not much indeed above sixty (which is the +prime of life now-a-days), and he lives quietly and keeps out of scrapes +poetical and political, and if Robert and I had but a little less +modesty we are assured that we should find access to him easy. But we +can't make up our minds to go to his door and introduce ourselves as +vagrant minstrels, when he may probably not know our names. We never +_could_ follow the fashion of certain authors who send their books about +without intimations of their being likely to be acceptable or not, of +which practice poor Tennyson knows too much for his peace. If, indeed, a +letter of introduction to Beranger were vouchsafed to us from any benign +quarter, we should both be delighted, but we must wait patiently for +the influence of the stars. Meanwhile, we have at last sent our letter +(Mazzini's) to George Sand, accompanied with a little note signed by +both of us, though written by me, as seemed right, being the woman. We +half despaired in doing this, for it is most difficult, it appears, to +get at her, she having taken vows against seeing strangers in +consequence of various annoyances and persecutions in and out of print, +which it's the mere instinct of a woman to avoid. I can understand it +perfectly. Also, she is in Paris for only a few days, and under a new +name, to escape from the plague of her notoriety. People said to us: +'She will never see you; you have no chance, I am afraid.' But we +determined to try. At last I pricked Robert up to the leap, for he was +really inclined to sit in his chair and be proud a little. 'No,' said I, +'you _shan't_ be proud, and I _won't_ be proud, and we _will_ see her. I +won't die, if I can help it, without seeing George Sand.' So we gave our +letter to a friend who was to give it to a friend, who was to place it +in her hands, her abode being a mystery and the name she used unknown. +The next day came by the post this answer: + + Madame,--J'aurai l'honneur de vous recevoir dimanche prochain + rue Racine 3. C'est le seul jour que je puisse passer chez + moi, et encore je n'en suis pas absolument certaine. Mais j'y + ferai tellement mon possible, que ma bonne etoile m'y aidera + peut-etre un peu. + + Agreez mille remerciments de coeur, ainsi que Monsieur + Browning, que j'espere voir avec vous, pour la sympathie que + vous m'accordez. + + GEORGE SAND. + Paris: 12 fevrier, 52. + + +This is graceful and kind, is it not? And we are going to-morrow; I, +rather at the risk of my life. But I shall roll myself up head and all +in a thick shawl, and we shall go in a close carriage, and I hope I +shall be able to tell you about the result before shutting up this +letter. + +One of her objects in coming to Paris this time was to get a commutation +of the sentence upon her friend Dufraisse, who was ordered to Cayenne. +She had an interview accordingly with the President. He shook hands with +her and granted her request, and in the course of conversation pointed +to a great heap of 'Decrees' on the table, being hatched 'for the good +of France.' I have heard scarcely anything of him, except from his +professed enemies; and it is really a good deal the simple recoil from +manifest falsehoods and gross exaggerations which has thrown me on the +ground of his defenders. For the rest, it remains to be _proved_, I +think, whether he is a mere ambitious man, or better--whether his +personality or his country stands highest with him as an object. I +thought and still think that a Washington might have dissolved the +Assembly as he did, and appealed to the people. Which is not saying, +however, that he is a Washington. We must wait, I think, to judge the +man. Only it is right to bear in mind one fact, that, admitting the +lawfulness of the _coup d'etat_, you must not object to the +dictatorship. And, admitting the temporary necessity of the +dictatorship, it is absolute folly to expect under it the liberty and +ease of a regular government. + +What has saved him with me from the beginning was his appeal to the +people, and what makes his government respectable in my eyes is the +answer of the people to that appeal. Being a democrat, I dare to be so +_consequently_. There never was a more legitimate chief of a State than +Louis Napoleon is now--elected by seven millions and a half; and I do +maintain that, ape or demi-god, to insult him where he is, is to insult +the people who placed him there. As to the stupid outcry in England +about forced votes, voters pricked forward by bayonets--why, nothing can +be more stupid. Nobody not blinded by passion could maintain such a +thing for a moment. No Frenchman, however blinded by passion, has +maintained it in my presence. + +A very philosophically minded man (French) was talking of these things +the other day--one of the most thoughtful, liberal men I ever knew of +any country, and high and pure in his moral views--also (let me add) +more _anglomane_ in general than I am. He was talking of the English +press. He said he 'did it justice for good and noble intentions' (more +than I do!), 'but marvelled at its extraordinary ignorance. Those +writers did not know the A B C of France. Then, as to Louis Napoleon, +whether he was right or wrong, they erred in supposing him not to be in +earnest with his constitution and other remedies for France. The fact +was, he not only was in earnest--he was even _fanatical_.' + +There is, of course, much to deplore in the present state of +affairs--much that is very melancholy. The constitution is not a model +one, and no prospect of even comparative liberty of the Press has been +offered. At the same time, I hope still. As tranquillity is established, +there will be certain modifications; this, indeed, has been intimated, +and I think the Press will by degrees attain to its emancipation. +Meanwhile, the 'Athenaeum' and other English papers say wrongly that +there is a censure established on books. There is a censure on pamphlets +and newspapers--on _books_, no. Cormenin is said to have been the +adviser of the Orleans confiscation.... + + * * * * * + + +_To John Kenyon_ + +[Paris], 138 Avenue des Ch.-Elysees: +February 15, 1852. + +My dearest Mr. Kenyon,--Robert sends you his Shelley,[12] having a very +few copies allowed to him to dispose of. I think you have Shelley's +other letters, of which this volume is the supplement, and you will not +be sorry to have Robert's preface thrown in, though he makes very light +of it himself. + +You never write a word to us, and so I don't mean to send you a letter +to-day--only as few lines as I can drop in a sulky fit, repenting as I +go on. As to politics, you know you have all put me in the corner +because I stand up for universal suffrage, and am weak enough to fancy +that seven millions and a half of Frenchmen have some right to an +opinion on their own affairs. It's really fatal in this world to be +consequent--it leads one into damnable errors. So I shall not say much +more at present. You must bear with me--dear Miss Bayley and all of +you--and believe of me, if I am ever so wrong, that I do at least pray +from my soul, 'May the right prevail!'--loving right, truth, justice, +and the people through whatever mistakes. As it was in the beginning, +from 'Casa Guidi Windows,' so it is now from the Avenue des +Champs-Elysees. I am most humanly liable, of course, to make mistakes, +and am by temperament perhaps over hopeful and sanguine. But I do see +with my own eyes and feel with my own spirit, and not with other +people's eyes and spirits, though they should happen to be the +dearest--and that's the very best of me, be certain, so don't quarrel +with it too much. + +As to the worst of the President, let him have vulture's beak, hyena's +teeth, and the rattle of the great serpent, it's nothing to the +question. Let him be Caligula's horse raised to the consulship--what +then? I am not a Buonapartist; I am simply a 'democrat,' as you say. I +simply hold to the fact that, such as he is, the people chose him, and +to the opinion that they have a right to choose whom they please. When +your English Press denies the _fact of the choice_ (a fact which the +most passionate of party-men does not think of denying here), _I_ seem +to have a right to another opinion which might strike you as unpatriotic +if I uttered it in this place. _Hic tacet_, then, rather _jacet_. + +For the rest, for heaven's sake and the truth's, do let us try to take +breath a little and be patient. Let us wait till the dust of the +struggle clears away before we take measures of the circus. We can't +have the liberty of a regular government under a dictatorship. And if +the 'constitution' which is coming is not model, it may wear itself into +shape by being worked calmly. These new boots will be easier to the feet +after half an hour's walking. Not that I like the pinching meanwhile. +Not that stringencies upon the Press please _me_--no, nor arrests and +imprisonments. I like these things, God knows, as little as the loudest +curser of you all, but I don't think it necessary and lawful to +exaggerate and over-colour, nor to paint the cheeks of sorrows into +horrors, nor to talk, like the 'Quarterly Review' (betwixt excuses for +the King of Naples), of two thousand four hundred persons being cut to +mincemeat in the streets of Paris, nor to call boldness hypocrisy +(because hypocrisy is the worse word), and the appeal to the sovereignty +of the people usurpation, and universal suffrage the pricking of +bayonets. Above all, I would avoid insulting the whole French nation, +who have judged their own position and acted accordingly. If Louis +Napoleon disappoints their expectation, he won't sit long where he is. +Of that I feel satisfactory assurance; and, considering the national +habits of insurrection, I really think that others may. + +Meanwhile it is just to tell you that the two deepest-minded persons +whom we have known in Paris--one an ultra-Republican of European +reputation (I don't like mentioning names), and the other a +Constitutionalist of the purest and noblest moral nature--are both +inclined to take favorable views of the President's personal character +and intentions. For my part, I don't pretend to an opinion. He may be, +as they say, '_bon enfant_,' '_homme de conscience_,' and 'so much in +earnest as to be fanatical,' or he may be a wretch and a reptile, as you +say in England. That's nothing to the question as I see it. I don't take +it up by that handle at all. Caligula's horse or the people's +'Messiah,' as I heard him called the other day--what then? You are +wonderfully intolerant, you in England, of equine consulships, you who +bear with quite sufficient equanimity a great rampancy of beasts all +over the world--Mr. Forster not blowing the trumpet of war, and Mrs. +Alfred Tennyson not loading the rifles. + +There now--I've done with politics to-day. Only just let me tell you +that Cormenin is said to be the adviser in the matter of the Orleans +decrees. So much the worse for him. + +Whom do you think I saw yesterday? George Sand. Oh, I have been in such +fear about it! It's the most difficult thing to get access to her, and, +notwithstanding our letter from Mazzini, we were assured on all sides +that she would not see us. She has been persecuted by bookmakers--run to +ground by the race, and, after having quite lost her on her former visit +to Paris, it was in half despair that we seized on an opportunity of +committing our letter of introduction to a friend of a friend of hers, +who promised to put it into her own hands. With the letter I wrote a +little note--I writing, as I was the woman, and both of us signing it. +To my delight, we had an answer by the next day's post, gracious and +graceful, desiring us to call on her last Sunday. + +So we went. Robert let me at last, though I had a struggle for even +that, the air being rather over-sharp for me. But I represented to him +that one might as well lose one's life as one's peace of mind for ever, +and if I lost seeing her I should with difficulty get over it. So I put +on my respirator, smothered myself with furs, and, in a close carriage, +did not run much risk after all. + +She received us very kindly, with hand stretched out, which I, with a +natural emotion (I assure you my heart beat), stooped and kissed, when +she said quickly, 'Mais non, je ne veux pas,' and kissed my lips. She is +somewhat large for her height--not tall--and was dressed with great +nicety in a sort of grey serge gown and jacket, made after the ruling +fashion just now, and fastened up to the throat, plain linen collarette +and sleeves. Her hair was uncovered, divided on the forehead in black, +glossy bandeaux, and twisted up behind. The eyes and brow are noble, and +the nose is of a somewhat Jewish character; the chin a little recedes, +and the mouth is not good, though mobile, flashing out a sudden smile +with its white projecting teeth. There is no sweetness in the face, but +great moral as well as intellectual capacities--only it never _could_ +have been a beautiful face, which a good deal surprised me. The chief +difference in it since it was younger is probably that the cheeks are +considerably fuller than they used to be, but this of course does not +alter the type. Her complexion is of a deep olive. I observed that her +hands were small and well-shaped. We sate with her perhaps +three-quarters of an hour or more--in which time she gave advice and +various directions to two or three young men who were there, showing her +confidence in us by the freest use of names and allusion to facts. She +seemed to be, in fact, _the man_ in that company, and the profound +respect with which she was listened to a good deal impressed me. You are +aware from the newspapers that she came to Paris for the purpose of +seeing the President in behalf of certain of her friends, and that it +was a successful mediation. What is peculiar in her manners and +conversation is the absolute simplicity of both. Her voice is low and +rapid, without emphasis or variety of modulation. Except one brilliant +smile, she was grave--indeed, she was speaking of grave matters, and +many of her friends are in adversity. But you could not help seeing +(both Robert and I saw it) that in all she said, even in her kindness +and pity, there was an under-current of scorn. A scorn of pleasing she +evidently had; there never could have been a colour of coquetry in that +woman. Her very freedom from affectation and consciousness had a touch +of disdain. But I liked her. I did not love her, but I felt the burning +soul through all that quietness, and was not disappointed in George +Sand. When we rose to go I could not help saying, 'C'est pour la +derniere fois,' and then she asked us to repeat our visit next Sunday, +and excused herself from coming to see us on the ground of a great press +of engagements. She kissed me again when we went away, and Robert kissed +her hand. + +Lady Elgin has offered to take him one day this week to visit Lamartine +(who, we hear, will be glad to see us, having a cordial feeling towards +England and English poets), but I shall wait for some very warm day for +that visit, not meaning to run mortal risks, except for George Sand. +_Nota bene._ We didn't see her smoke. + +Robert has ventured to send to your house, my dearest friend, two copies +of 'Shelley' besides yours--one for Mr. Procter, and one for Mrs. +Jameson, with kindest love, both. There is no hurry about either, you +know. We wanted another for dear Miss Bayley, but we have only six +copies, and don't keep one for ourselves, and she won't care, I dare +say. + +Your ever most affectionate and grateful +BA. + +Will you let your servant put this letter into the post for Miss +Mitford? She upset me by her book, but had the most affectionate +intentions, and I am obliged to her for what she meant. Then I am +morbid, I know. + +Tell dearest Miss Bayley, with my love, I shall write to her soon. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +[Paris], 138 Avenue des Champs-Elysees: +February 26, [1852]. + +Never believe of me so bad a thing as that I could have received from +you, my ever dear and very dear friend, such a letter as you describe, +and rung hollow in return. I did not get your letter, so how could I +send an answer? Your letter's lost, like some other happy things. But I +thank you for it fervently, guessing from what you say the sympathy and +affection of it. I thank you for it most gratefully. + +As for poor dear Miss Mitford's book, I was entirely upset by the +biography she thought it necessary or expedient to give of me. Oh, if +our friends would but put off anatomising one till after one was safely +dead, and call to mind that, previously, we have nerves to be agonised +and morbid brains to be driven mad! I am morbid, I know. I can't bear +some words even from Robert. Like the lady who lay in the grave, and was +ever after of the colour of a shroud, so I am white-souled, the past has +left its mark with me for ever. And now (this is the worst) every +newspaper critic who talks of my poems may refer to other things. I +shall not feel myself safe a moment from references which stab like a +knife. + +But poor dear Miss Mitford, if we don't forgive what's meant as +kindness, how are we to forgive what's meant as injury? In my first +agitation I felt it as a real vexation that I couldn't be angry with +her. How could I, poor thing? She has always loved me, and been so +anxious to please me, and this time she seriously thought that Robert +and I would be delighted. Extraordinary defect of comprehension! + +Still, I did not, I could not, conceal from her that she had given me +great pain, and she replied in a tone which really made me almost feel +ungrateful for being pained, she said 'rather that her whole book had +perished than have given me a moment's pain.' How are you to feel after +_that_? + +For the rest, it appears that she had merely come forward to the rescue +of my reputation, no more than so. Sundry romantic tales had been in +circulation about me. I was 'in widow's weeds' in my habitual +costume--and, in fact, before I was married I had grievously scandalised +the English public (the imaginative part of the public), and it was +expedient to 'tirer de l'autre cote.' + +Well, I might have laughed at _that_--but I didn't. I wrote a very +affectionate letter, for I really love Miss Mitford, though she +understands me no more under certain respects than you in England +understand Louis Napoleon and the French nation. Love's love. She meant +the best to me--and so, do you, who have a much more penetrating sense +of delicacy, forgive her for my sake, dear friend.... + +Of the memoirs of Madame Ossoli, I know only the extracts in the +'Athenaeum.' She was a most interesting woman to me, though I did not +sympathise with a large portion of her opinions. Her written works are +just _naught_. She said herself they were sketches, thrown out in haste +and for the means of subsistence, and that the sole production of hers +which was likely to represent her at all would be the history of the +Italian Revolution. In fact, her reputation, such as it was in America, +seemed to stand mainly on her conversation and oral lectures. If I +wished anyone to do her justice, I should say, as I have indeed said, +'Never read what she has written.' The letters, however, are individual, +and full, I should fancy, of that magnetic personal influence which was +so strong in her. I felt drawn in towards her, during our short +intercourse; I loved her, and the circumstances of her death shook me to +the very roots of my heart. The comfort is, that she lost little in this +world--the change could not be loss to her. She had suffered, and was +likely to suffer still more. + +And now, am I to tell you that I have seen George Sand twice, and am to +see her again? Ah, there is no time to tell you, for I must shut up this +letter. She sate, like a priestess, the other morning in a circle of +eight or nine men, giving no oracles, except with her splendid eyes, +sitting at the corner of the fire, and warming her feet quietly, in a +general silence of the most profound deference. There was something in +the calm disdain of it which pleased me, and struck me as +characteristic. She was George Sand, that was enough: you wanted no +proof of it. Robert observed that 'if any other mistress of a house had +behaved so, he would have walked out of the room'--but, as it was, no +sort of incivility was meant. In fact, we hear that she 'likes us very +much,' and as we went away she called me 'chere Madame' and kissed me, +and desired to see us both again. + +I did not read myself the passage in question from Miss M.'s book. I +couldn't make up my mind, my courage, to look at it. But I understood +from Robert. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +[Paris], 138 Avenue des Ch.-Elysees: +February 27, [1852]. + +I get your second letter, my dearest Mrs. Martin, before I answer your +first, which makes me rather ashamed. + + ... Dearest friend, it is true that I have seldom been so upset as by +this act of poor dear Miss Mitford's, and the very impossibility of +being vindictive on this occasion increased my agitation at the +moment.... + +There are defects in delicacy and apprehensiveness, one cannot deny it, +and yet I assure you that a more generous and fervent woman never lived +than dear Miss Mitford is, and if you knew her you would do her this +justice. She is better in herself than in her books--more large, more +energetic, more human altogether. I think I understand her better on the +whole than she understands me (which is not saying much), and I admire +her on various accounts. She talks better, for instance, than most +writers, male or female, whom I have had any intercourse with. And +affectionate in the extreme, she has always been to me. + +So I have mystified you and disgusted you with my politics, and my +friends in England have put me in the corner; just so.... + +The French nation is very peculiar. We choose to boast ourselves of +being different in England, but we have simply _les qualites de nos +defauts_ after all. The clash of speculative opinions is dreadful here, +practical men catch at the ideal as if it were a loaf of bread, and they +literally set about cutting out their Romeos 'into little stars,' as if +that were the most natural thing in the world. As for the socialists, I +quite agree with you that various of them, yes, and some of their chief +men, are full of pure and noble aspiration, the most virtuous of men and +the most benevolent. Still, they hold in their hands, in their clean +hands, ideas that kill, ideas which defile, ideas which, if carried out, +would be the worst and most crushing kind of despotism. I would rather +live under the feet of the Czar than in those states of perfectibility +imagined by Fourier and Cabet, if I might choose my 'pis aller.' All +these speculators (even Louis Blanc, who is one of the most rational) +would revolutionalise, not merely countries, but the elemental +conditions of humanity, it seems to me; none of them seeing that +antagonism is necessary to all progress. A man, in walking, must set one +foot before another, and in climbing (as Dante observed long ago) the +foot behind 'e sempre il piu basso.' Only the gods (Plato tells us) keep +both feet joined together in moving onward. It is not so, and cannot be +so, with men. + +But I think that not only in relation to the socialists, but to the +monarchies, is L.N. the choice of the French people. I think that they +will not _bear_ the monarchies, they will not have either of them, they +put them away. It seems to me that the French people is essentially +democratical, and that by the vote in question they never meant to give +away either rights or liberties. The extraordinary part of the actual +position is that the Government, with these ugly signs of despotism in +its face, stands upon the democracy (is no 'military despotism,' +therefore, in any sense, as the English choose to say), and may be +thrown, and will be thrown, on that day when it disappoints the popular +expectation. For my part, I am hopeful both for this reason and for +others. I hope we shall do better, when there is greater calm; that +presently there will be relaxation where there is stringency, and room +to breathe and speak. At present it is a dictatorship, and we can't +expect at such a time the ease and liberty of a regular government. The +constitution itself may be modified, as the very terms of it imply, and +the laws of the Press not carried out. Even as it is, all the English +papers, infamous in their abuse of the Government (because of their +falsifications and exaggerations properly called infamous) and highly +immoral in their tone towards France generally, come in as usual, +without an official finger being lifted up to hinder them. Louis +Philippe would not admit Punch, you remember, on account of a few +personal sarcasms.... + +So much there is to say, and the post going. Can you read as I write on +at a full gallop? Don't be out of heart. Do let us trust France--not L. +Napoleon, but _France_.... + +Dearest friends, think of me as your + +Ever affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +[Paris], 138 Avenue des Ch.-Elysees: +April 7, 1852. + +What a time seems to have passed since I wrote to you, my ever loved +friend! Again and again I have been on the point of writing, and +something has stopped me always. I have wished to wait till I had more +about this and that to gossip of, and so the time went on. Now I am +getting impatient to have news of you, and to learn whether the lovely +spring has brought you any good yet as to health and strength. Don't +take vengeance on my silence, but write, write.... + +Yes, I want to see Beranger, and so does Robert. George Sand we came to +know a great deal more of. I think Robert saw her six times. Once he +met her near the Tuileries, offered her his arm, and walked with her the +whole length of the gardens. She was not on that occasion looking as +well as usual, being a little too much 'endimanchee' in terrestrial +lavenders and supercelestial blues--not, in fact, dressed with the +remarkable taste which he has seen in her at other times. Her usual +costume is both pretty and quiet, and the fashionable waistcoat and +jacket (which are a spectacle in all the 'Ladies' Companions' of the +day) make the only approach to masculine _wearings_ to be observed in +her. She has great nicety and refinement in her personal ways, I think, +and the cigarette is really a feminine weapon if properly understood. +Ah, but I didn't see her smoke. I was unfortunate. I could only go with +Robert three times to her house, and once she was out. He was really +very good and kind to let me go at all, after he found the sort of +society rampant around her. He didn't like it extremely, but, being the +prince of husbands, he was lenient to my desires and yielded the point. +She seems to live in the abomination of desolation, as far as regards +society--crowds of ill-bred men who adore her _a genoux bas_, betwixt a +puff of smoke and an ejection of saliva. Society of the ragged Red +diluted with the lower theatrical. She herself so different, so apart, +as alone in her melancholy disdain! I was deeply interested in that poor +woman, I felt a profound compassion for her. I did not mind much the +Greek in Greek costume who tutoyed her, and kissed her, I believe, so +Robert said; or the other vulgar man of the theatre who went down on his +knees and called her 'sublime.' 'Caprice d'amitie,' said she, with her +quiet, gentle scorn. A noble woman under the mud, be certain. _I_ would +kneel down to her, too, if she would leave it all, throw it off, and be +herself as God made her. But she would not care for my kneeling; she +does not care for me. Perhaps she doesn't care for anybody by this +time--who knows? She wrote one, or two, or three kind notes to me, and +promised to 'venir m'embrasser' before she left Paris; but she did not +come. We both tried hard to please her, and she told a friend of ours +that she 'liked us'; only we always felt that we couldn't +penetrate--couldn't really _touch_ her--it was all vain. Her play +failed, though full of talent. It didn't draw, and was withdrawn +accordingly. I wish she would keep to her romances, in which her real +power lies. + +We have found out Jadin, Alexandre Dumas' friend and companion in the +'_Speronare_.' He showed Robert at his house poor Louis Philippe's +famous 'umbrella,' and the Duke of Orleans' uniform, and the cup from +which Napoleon took his coffee, which stood beside him as he signed the +abdication. Then there was a picture of 'Milord' hanging up. I must go +to see too. Said Robert: 'Then Alexandre Dumas doesn't write romances +always?' (You know it was like a sudden spectacle of one of Leda's +eggs.) 'Indeed,' replied Jadin, 'he wrote the true history of his own +travels, only, of course, seeing everything, like a poet, from his own +point of view.' Alfred de Musset was to have been at M. Buloz's, where +Robert was a week ago, on purpose to meet him, but he was prevented in +some way. His brother Paul de Musset, a very different person, was there +instead--but we hope to have Alfred on another occasion. Do you know his +poems? He is not capable of large grasps, but he has poet's life and +blood in him, I assure you. He is said to be at the feet of Rachel just +now, and a man may nearly as well be with a tigress in a cage. He began +with the Princess Belgiojoso--followed George Sand--Rachel finishes, is +likely to 'finish' in every sense. In the intervals, he plays at chess. +There's the anatomy of a _man_! + +We are expecting a visit from Lamartine, who does a great deal of honour +to both of us, it appears, in the way of appreciation, and is kind +enough to propose to come. I will tell you all about it. + +But now tell _me_. Oh, I want so to hear how you are. Better, stronger, +I hope and trust. How does the new house and garden look in the spring? +Prettier and prettier, I dare say.... + +The dotation of the President is enormous certainly, and I wish for his +own sake it had been rather more moderate. Now I must end here. Post +hour strikes. God bless you. + +Do love me as much as you can, always, and think how I am your ever +affectionate + +BA. + +Our darling is well; thank God. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +[Paris]: 138 Avenue des Ch.-Elysees: +April 12, Monday, 1852. + +Your letter was pleasant and not so pleasant, dearest Monna Nina; for it +was not so pleasant indeed to hear how ill you had been--and yet to be +lifted into the hope, or rather certainty, of seeing you next week +pleased us extremely of course, and the more that your note through Lady +Lyell had thrown us backward into a slough of despond and made me +sceptical as to your coming here at all.... + +What a beautiful Paris it is! I walked out a little yesterday with +Robert, and we both felt penetrated with the sentiment of southern life +as we watched men, women, and children sitting out in the sun, taking +wine and coffee, and enjoying their _fete_ day with good happy faces. +The mixture of classes is to me one of the most delicious features of +the South, and you have it here exactly as in Italy. The colouring too, +the brightness, even the sun--oh, come and enjoy it all with us. We have +had a most splendid spring beginning with February. Still, I have been +out very seldom, being afraid of treacherous winds combined with burning +sunshine, but I have enjoyed the weather in the house and by opening +the windows, and have been revived and strengthened much by it, and +shall soon recover my summer power of walking, I dare say. What do you +think I did the other night? Went to the Vaudeville to see the 'Dame aux +Camelias' on above the fiftieth night of the representation. I disagree +with the common outcry about its immorality. According to my view, it is +moral and human. But I never will go to see it again, for it almost +broke my heart and split my head. I had a headache afterwards for +twenty-four hours. Even Robert, who gives himself out for _blase_ on +dramatic matters, couldn't keep the tears from rolling down his cheeks. +The exquisite acting, the too literal truth to nature everywhere, was +_exasperating_--there was something profane in such familiar handling of +life and death. Art has no business with real graveclothes when she +wants tragic drapery--has she? It was too much altogether like a bull +fight. There's a caricature at the shop windows of the effect produced, +the pit protecting itself with multitudinous umbrellas from the tears of +the boxes. This play is by Alexandre Dumas _fils_--and is worthy by its +talent of Alexandre Dumas _pere_. + +Only that once have I been in a Parisian theatre. I couldn't go even to +see 'Les Vacances de Pandolphe' when George Sand had the goodness to +send us tickets for the first night. She failed in it, I am sorry to +say--it did not 'draw,' as the phrase is. Now she has left Paris, but is +likely to return. + +I am sure it will do you great good to have change and liberty and +distraction in various ways. The '_anxiety_' you speak of--oh, I do hope +it does not relate to Gerardine. I always think of her when you seem +anxious. + +I shall be very glad if, when you come, you should be inclined to give +your attention, you with your honest and vigorous mind, to the facts of +the political situation, not the facts as you hear them from the +English, or from our friend Madme Mohl, who confessed to me one day +that she liked exaggerations because she hated the President. She is a +clever shrewd woman, but most eminently and on all subjects a woman; her +passions having her thoughts inside them, instead of her thoughts her +passions. That's the common distinction between women and men, is it +not? + +Robert, too, will tell you that he hates all Buonapartes, past, present, +or to come, but then _he_ says _that_ in his self-willed, pettish way, +as a manner of dismissing a subject he won't think about--and knowing +very well that he doesn't think about it, not mistaking a feeling for a +reason, not for a moment. There's the difference between women and men. + +Well, but you won't come here to knit your brows about politics, but +rather to forget all sorts of anxieties and distresses, and be well and +happy, I do hope. You deserve a holiday after all that work. God bless +you, dear friend. + +Our united love goes to you and stays with you. + +Your ever affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mulock_ + +[Paris]: 138 Avenue des Champs-Elysees: +April 27, [1852]. + +I am afraid you must think me--what can you have thought of me for not +immediately answering a letter which brought the tears both to my eyes +and my husband's? I was going to write just _so_, but he said: 'No, do +not write yet; wait till we get the book and then you can speak of it +with knowledge.' And I waited. + +But the misfortune is that Messrs. Chapman & Hall waited too, and that +up to the present time 'The Head of the Family' has not arrived. Mr. +Chapman is slow in finding what he calls his opportunities. + +Therefore I can't wait any more, no indeed. The voice which called +'Dinah' in the garden--which was true, because certainly I did call from +Florence with my whole heart to the writer of these verses[13] (how +deeply they moved me!)--will have seemed to you by this time as fabulous +as the garden itself. And we had no garden at Florence, I must confess +to you, only a terrace facing the grey wall of San Felice church, where +we used to walk up and down on the moonlight nights. But San Felice was +always a good saint to me, and when I had read and cried over those +verses from the 'Athenaeum' (my husband wrote them out for me at the +reading room) and when I had vainly written to England to find out the +poet, and when I had all as vainly, on our visit to England last summer, +inquired of this person and that person, it turns out after all that +'Dinah' answers me. Do you not think I am glad? + +The beautiful verses touched me to the quick, so does your letter. We +shall be in London again perhaps in two months for a few weeks, and then +you will let us see you, I hope, will you not? And, in the meanwhile, +you will believe that we do not indeed think of you as a stranger. Ah, +your dream flattered me in certain respects! Yet there was some truth in +it, as I have told you, even though you saw in the dreamlight more roses +than were growing. + +Certainly Mr. Chapman will at last send me 'The Head of the Family,' and +then I will write again of course. + +Dear Miss Mulock, may I write myself down now, because I _must_, + +Affectionately yours and gratefully, +ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. + + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +[Paris],138 Avenue des Ch.-Elysees: +May 9, [1852]. + +I began a long letter to you in the impulse left by yours upon me, and +then destroyed it by accident. That hindered me from writing as soon as +I should have done, for indeed I am anxious to have other news of you, +my dearest dear Miss Mitford, and to know, if possible, that you are a +little better.... Tell me everything. Why, you looked really well last +summer; and I want to see you looking well this summer, for we shall +probably be in London in June--more's the pity, perhaps! The gladness I +have in England is so leavened through and through with sadness that I +incline to do with it as one does with the black bread of the monks of +Vallombrosa, only pretend to eat it and drop it slyly under the table. +If it were not for some ties I would say 'Farewell, England,' and never +set foot on it again. There's always an east wind for _me_ in England, +whether the sun shines or not--the moral east wind which is colder than +any other. But how dull to go on talking of the weather: _Sia come +vuole_, as we say in Italy. + +To-morrow is the great _fete_ of your Louis Napoleon, the distribution +of the eagles. We have done our possible and impossible to get tickets, +because I had taken strongly into my head to want to go, and because +Robert, who didn't care for it himself, cared for it for me; but here's +the eleventh hour and our prospects remain gloomy. We did not apply +sufficiently soon, I am afraid, and the name of the applicants has been +legion. It will be a grand sight, and full of significances. +Nevertheless, the empire won't come _so_; you will have to wait a little +for the Empire. Who were your financial authorities who praised Louis +Napoleon? and do the same approve of the late measure about the three +per cents.? I am so absolutely _bete_ upon such subjects that I don't +even _pretend_ to be intelligent; but I heard yesterday from a direct +source that Rothschild expressed a high admiration of the President's +financial ability. A friend of that master in Israel said it to our +friend Lady Elgin. Commerce is reviving, money is pouring in, confidence +is being restored on all sides. Even the Press palpitates again--ah, but +I wish it were a little freer of the corset. This Government is not +after my heart after all. I only tolerate what appear to me the +necessities of an exceptional situation. The masses are satisfied and +hopeful, and the President stronger and stronger--not by the sword, may +it please the English Press, but by the democracy. + +I am delighted to see that the French Government has protested against +the reactionary iniquities of the Tuscan Grand Duke, and every day I +expect eagerly some helping hand to be stretched out to Rome. I have +looked for this from the very first, and certainly it is significant +that the Prince of Canino, the late President of the Roman Republic, +should be in favour at the Elysee. Pio Nono's time is but short, I +fancy--that is, reforms will be forced upon him. + +When George Sand had audience with the President, he was very kind; did +I tell you that? At the last he said: 'Vous verrez, vous serez contente +de moi.' To which she answered, 'Et vous, vous serez content de moi.' It +was repeated to me as to the great dishonour of Madame Sand, and as a +proof that she could not resist the influence of power and was a bad +republican. I, on the contrary, thought the story quite honourable to +both parties. It was for the sake of her _rouge_ friends that she +approached the President at all, and she has used the hand he stretched +out to her only on behalf of persons in prison and distress. The same, +being delivered, call her gratefully a recreant. + +Victor Cousin and Villemain refuse to take the oath, and lose their +situations in the Academy accordingly; but they retire on pensions, and +it's their own fault of course. Michelet and Quinet should have an +equivalent, I think, for what they have lost; they are worthy, as poets, +orators, dreamers, speculative thinkers--as anything, in fact, but +instructors of youth. + +No, there is a brochure, or a little book somewhere, pretending to be a +memoir of Balzac, but I have not seen it. Some time before his death he +had bought a country place, and there was a fruit tree in the garden--I +think a walnut tree--about which he delighted himself in making various +financial calculations after the manner of Cesar Birotteau. He built the +house himself, and when it was finished there was just one defect--it +wanted a staircase. They had to put in the staircase afterwards. The +picture gallery, however, had been seen to from the first, and the great +writer had chalked on the walls, 'Mon Raffaelle,' 'Mon Correge,' 'Mon +Titien,' 'Mon Leonard de Vinci,' the pictures being yet unattained. He +is said to have been a little loth to spend money, and to have liked to +dine magnificently at the restaurant at the expense of his friends, +forgetting to pay for his own share of the entertainment. For the rest, +the 'idee fixe' of the man was to be rich one day, and he threw his +subtle imagination and vital poetry into pounds, shillings, and pence +with such force that he worked the base element into spiritual +splendours. Oh! to think of our having missed seeing that man. It is +painful. A little book is published of his 'thoughts and maxims,' the +sweepings of his desk I suppose; broken notes, probably, which would +have been wrought up into some noble works, if he had lived. Some of +these are very striking. + +Lamartine has not yet paid us the promised visit. Just as we were +beginning to feel vexed we heard that the intermediate friend who was to +have brought him had been caught up by the Government and sent off to +Saint-Germain to 'faire le mort,' on pain of being sent farther. I mean +Eugene Belleton. If he talked in many places as he talked in this room, +I can't be very much surprised, but I am really very sorry. He is one of +those amiable domestic men who delight in talking 'battle, murder, and +sudden death.' + +[_The end of this letter is wanting_] + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mulock_ + +[Paris], 138 Avenue des Champs-Elysees: +June 2, [1852]. + +My husband went directly to Rue Vivienne and came back without the book. +We waited and waited, but at last it reached us, and we have read it, +and since then I have let some days go by through having been unwell. +You seemed to let me sit still in my chair and do nothing; you did not +call too loud. So was it with most other things in the universe. Now, +having awakened from my somnolency, recovered from 'La Grippe' (or what +mortal Londoners call the influenza), the first person and first book I +think of must naturally be you and yours. + +So I thank you much, much, for the book. It has interested me, dear Miss +Mulock, as a book should, and I am delighted to recognise everywhere +undeniable talent and faculty, combined with high and pure aspiration. A +clever book, a graceful book, and with the moral grace besides--thank +you. Many must have thanked you as well as myself. + +At the same time, precisely because I feel particularly obliged to you, +I mean to tell you the truth. Your hero is heroic from his own point of +view--accepting his own view of the situation, which I, for one, cannot +accept, do you know, for I am of opinion that both you and he are rather +conventional on the subject of his marriage. I don't in the least +understand, at this moment, why he should not have married in the first +volume; no, not in the least. It was a matter of income, he would tell +me, and of keeping two establishments; and I would answer that it ought +rather to have been a matter of faith in God and in the value of God's +gifts, the greatest of which is love. I am romantic about love--oh, much +more than you are, though older than you. A man's life does not develop +rightly without it, and what is called an 'improvident marriage' often +appears to me a noble, righteous, and prudent act. Your Ninian was a man +before he was a brother. I hold that he had no right to sacrifice a +great spiritual good of his own to the worldly good of his family, +however he made it out. He should have said: 'God gives me this gift, He +will find me energy to work for it and suffer for it. We will all live +together, struggle together if it is necessary, a little more poorly, a +little more laboriously, but keeping true to the best aims of life, all +of us.' + +That's what _my_ Ninian would have said. I don't like to see noble +Ninians crushed flat under family Juggernauts, from whatever heroic +motives--not I. Do you forgive me for being so candid? + +I must tell you that Mrs. Jameson, who is staying in this house, read +your book in England and mentioned it to me as a good book, 'very +gracefully written,' before I read it, quite irrespectively, too, of my +dedication, which was absent from the copy she saw at Brighton. It was +mentioned as one of the novels which had pleased her most lately. + +I shall like to show you my child, as you like children, and as I am +vain--oh, past endurance vain, about him. You won't understand a word he +says, though, for he speaks three languages at once, and most of the +syllables of each wrong side foremost. + +No, don't call me a Bonapartist. I am not a Bonapartist indeed. But I am +a Democrat and singularly (in these days) consequent about universal +suffrage. Also, facts in England have been much mis-stated; but there's +no room for politics to-day. + +When I thank you, remember that my husband thanks you. We both hope to +see you before this month shall be quite at an end, and then you will +know me better, I hope; and though I shall lose a great deal by your +knowing me, of course, yet you won't, _after that_, make such mistakes +as you 'confess' in this note which I have just read over again. Did I +think you 'sentimental'? Won't you rather think _me_ sentimental to-day? +Through it all, + +Your affectionate +ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +[Paris], 138 Avenue des Champs-Elysees: +June 16, [1852]. + +My first word must be to thank you, my dearest kind friend, for your +affectionate words to me and mine, which always, from you, sink deeply. +It was, on my part, great gratification to see you and talk to you and +hear you talk, and, above all, perhaps, to feel that you loved me still +a little. May God bless you both! And may we meet again and again in +Paris and elsewhere; in London this summer to begin with! As the +Italians would say in relation to any like pleasure: 'Sarebbe una +_benedizione_.' + +We are waiting for the English weather to be reported endurable in order +to set out. Mrs. Streatfield, who has been in England these twelve days, +writes to certify that it is past the force of a Parisian imagination to +imagine the state of the skies and the atmosphere; yet, even in Paris, +we have been moaning the last four days, because really, since then, we +have gone back to April, and a rather cool April, with alternate showers +and sunshine--a crisis, however, which does not call for fires, nor +inflict much harm on me. It was the thunder, we think, that upset the +summer. + +You seem to have had a sort of inkling about my brittleness when you +were here. It was the beginning of a bad attack of cough and pain in the +side, the consequence of which was that I turned suddenly into the +likeness of a ghost and frightened Robert from his design of going to +England. About that I am by no means regretful; he was not wanted, as +the event proved abundantly. The worst was that he was annoyed by the +number of judicious observers and miserable comforters who told him I +was horribly changed and ought to be taken back to Italy forthwith. I +knew it was nothing but an accidental attack, and that the results would +pass away, as they did. I kept quiet, applied mustard poultices, and am +now looking again (tell dear Mr. Martin) 'as if I had shammed.' So all +these misfortunes are strictly historical, you are to understand. +To-night we are going to Ary Scheffer's to hear music and to see ever so +many celebrities. Oh, and let me remember to tell you that M. Thierry, +the blind historian, has sent us a message by his physician to ask us to +go to see him, and as a matter of course we go. Madame Viardot, the +prima donna, and Leonard, the first violin player at the Conservatoire, +are to be at M. Scheffer's. + +After all, you are too right. The less amused I am, clearly the better +for me. I should live ever so many years more by being shut up in a +hermitage, if it were warm and dry. More's the pity, when one wants to +see and hear as I do. The only sort of excitement and fatigue which does +me no harm, but good, is _travelling_. The effect of the continual +change of air is to pour in oil as the lamp burns; so I explain the +extraordinary manner in which I bear the fatigue of being +four-and-twenty hours together in a diligence, for instance, which many +strong women would feel too much for them. + +All this talking of myself when I want to talk of you and to tell you +how touched I was by the praises of your winning little Letitia! +Enclosed is a note to Chapman & Hall which will put her 'bearer' (if she +can find one in London) in possession of the two volumes in question. I +shall like her to have them, and she must try to find my love, as the +King of France did the poison (a 'most unsavoury simile,' certainly), +between the leaves. I send with them, in any case, my best love. Ah, so +sorry I am that she has suffered from the weather you have had. She is a +most interesting child, and of a nature which is rare.... + +Robert's warm regards, with those of your + +Ever affectionate and grateful +BA. + +Madame Viardot is George Sand's heroine Consuelo. You know that +beautiful book. + + * * * * * + + +With the last days of June the long stay in Paris came to an end, and +the Brownings paid their second visit to London. Their residence on this +occasion was at 58 Welbeck Street ('very respectable rooms this time, +and at a moderate price'), and here they stayed until the beginning of +November. Neither husband nor wife seems to have written much poetry +during this year, either in Paris or in London. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +[London], 58 Welbeck Street: Saturday, +[June-July 1852]. + + ... We saw your book in Paris, the Galignani edition, and I read it all +except the one thing I had not courage to read. Thank you, thank you. We +are both of us grateful to you for your most generous and heartwarm +intentions to us. As to the book, it's a book made to go east and west; +it's a popular book with flowers from the 'village' laid freshly and +brightly between the critical leaves. I don't always agree with you. I +think, for instance, that Mary Anne Browne should never be compared to +George Sand in 'passion,' and I can't grant to you that your extracts +from her poems bear you out to even one fiftieth degree in such an +opinion. I agree with you just as little with regard to Dr. Holmes and +certain others. But to _have_ your opinion is always a delightful thing, +and 'it is characteristic of your generosity,' to say the least, we say +to ourselves when we are 'dissidents' most. + +I am writing in the extremest haste, just a word to announce our arrival +in England. We are in very comfortable rooms in 58 Welbeck Street, and +my sister Henrietta is some twenty doors away. To-morrow Robert and I +are going to Wimbledon for a day to dear Mr. Kenyon, who looks radiantly +well and has Mr. Landor for a companion just now. Imagine the uproar and +turmoil of our first days in London, and believe that I think of you +faithfully and tenderly through all. I am overjoyed to see my sisters, +who look well on the whole ... and they and everybody assure me that I +show a very satisfactory face to my country, as far as improved looks +go. + +What nonsense one writes when one has but a moment to write in. I find +people talking about the 'facts in the "Times"' touching Louis Napoleon. +Facts in the 'Times'! + +The heat is _stifling_. Do send one word to say how you are, and love me +always as I love you. + +Your most affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +58 Welbeck Street: Friday, July 31, 1852 [postmark]. + +I want to hear about you again, dear, dearest Miss Mitford, and I can't +hear. Will you send me a line or a word.... I mean to go down to see you +one day, but certainly we must account it right not to tire you while +you are weak, and not to spoil our enjoyment by forestalling it. Two +months are full of days; we can afford to wait. Meantime let us have a +little gossip such as the gods allow of. + +Dear Mr. Kenyon has not yet gone to Scotland, though his intentions +still stand north. He passed an evening with us some evenings ago, and +was brilliant and charming (the two things together), and good and +affectionate at the same time. Mr. Landor was staying with him (perhaps +I told you that), and went away into Worcestershire, assuring me, when +he took leave of me, that he would never enter London again. A week +passes, and lo! Mr. Kenyon expects him again. Resolutions are not always +irrevocable, you observe. + +I must tell you what Landor said about Louis Napoleon. You are aware +that he loathed the first Napoleon and that he hates the French nation; +also, he detests the present state of French affairs, and has foamed +over in the 'Examiner' 'in prose and rhyme' on the subject of them. +Nevertheless, he who calls 'the Emperor' 'an infernal fool' expresses +himself to this effect about the President: 'I always knew him to be a +man of wonderful genius. I knew him intimately, and I was persuaded of +what was in him. When people have said to me, "How can you like to waste +your time with so trifling a man?" I have answered: "If all your Houses +of Parliament, putting their heads together, could make a head equal to +this trifling man's head it would be well for England." + +It was quite unexpected to me to hear Mr. Landor talk so. + +He, Mr. Landor, is looking as young as ever, as full of life and +passionate energy. + +Did Mr. Horne write to you before he went to Australia? Did I speak to +you about his going? Did you see the letter which he put into the papers +as a farewell to England? I think of it all sadly. + +Mazzini came to see us the other day, with that pale spiritual face of +his, and those intense eyes full of melancholy illusions. I was +thinking, while he sate there, on what Italian turf he would lie at last +with a bullet in his heart, or perhaps with a knife in his back, for to +one of those ends it will surely come. Mrs. Carlyle came with him. She +is a great favorite of mine: full of thought, and feeling, and +character, it seems to me. + +London is emptying itself, and the relief will be great in a certain +way; for one gets exhausted sometimes. Let me remember whom I have seen. +Mrs. Newton Crosland, who spoke of you very warmly; Miss Mulock, who +wrote 'The Ogilvies' (that series of novels), and is interesting, +gentle, and young, and seems to have worked half her life in spite of +youth; Mr. Field we have not seen, only heard of; Miss ----, no--but I +am to see her, I understand, and that she is an American Corinna in +yellow silk, but pretty. We drove out to Kensington with Monckton Milnes +and his wife, and I like her; she is quiet and kind, and seems to have +accomplishments, and we are to meet Fanny Kemble at the Procters some +day next week. Many good faces, but the best wanting. Ah, I wish Lord +Stanhope, who shows the spirits of the sun in a crystal ball, could show +us _that_! Have you heard of the crystal ball?[14] We went to meet it +and the seer the other morning, with sundry of the believers and +unbelievers--among the latter, chief among the latter, Mr. Chorley, who +was highly indignant and greatly scandalised, particularly on account of +the combination sought to be established by the lady of the house +between lobster salad and Oremus, spirit of the sun. For my part, I +endured both luncheon and spiritual phenomena with great equanimity. It +was very curious altogether to my mind, as a sign of the times, if in no +other respect of philosophy. But I love the marvellous. Write a word to +me, I beseech you, and love me and think of me, as I love and think of +you. God bless you. Robert's love. + +Your ever affectionate +BA. + + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +58 Welbeck Street: Tuesday, [July-October 1852]. + +Dearest Monna Nina,--Here are the verses. I did them all because that +was easiest to me, but of course you will extract the two you want. + +It has struck me besides that you might care to see this old ballad +which I find among my papers from one of the Percy or other antiquarian +Society books, and which I transcribed years ago, modernising slightly +in order to make out some sort of rhythm as I went on. I did this +because the original poem impressed me deeply with its pathos. I wish I +could send you the antique literal poem, but I haven't it, nor know +where to find it; still, I don't think I quite spoilt it with the very +slight changes ventured by me in the transcription. + +God bless you. Let us meet on Wednesday. Robert's best love, with that +of your ever affectionate + +BA. + + + STABAT MATER + + Mother full of lamentation, + Near that cross she wept her passion, + Whereon hung her child and Lord. + Through her spirit worn and wailing, + Tortured by the stroke and failing, + Passed and pierced the prophet's sword. + + Oh, sad, sore, above all other, + Was that ever blessed mother + Of the sole-begotten one; + She who mourned and moaned and trembled + While she measured, nor dissembled, + Such despairs of such a son! + + Where's the man could hold from weeping, + If Christ's mother he saw keeping + Watch with mother-heart undone? + Who could hold from grief, to view her, + Tender mother true and pure, + Agonising with her Son? + + For her people's sins she saw Him + Down the bitter deep withdraw Him + 'Neath the scourge and through the dole! + Her sweet Son she contemplated + Nailed to death, and desolated, + While He breathed away His soul. + + E.B.B. + + + BALLAD--_Beginning of Edward II.'s Reign_ + + 'Stand up, mother, under cross, + Smile to help thy Son at loss. + Blythe, O mother, try to be!' + 'Son, how can I blythely stand, + Seeing here Thy foot and hand + Nailed to the cruel tree?' + + 'Mother, cease thy weeping blind. + I die here for all mankind, + Not for guilt that I have done.' + 'Son, I feel Thy deathly smart. + The sword pierces through my heart, + Prophesied by Simeon.' + + 'Mother, mercy! let me die, + Adam out of hell to buy, + And his kin who are accurst.' + 'Son, what use have I for breath? + Sorrow wasteth me to death-- + Let my dying come the first.' + + 'Mother, pity on thy Son! + Bloody tears be running down + Worse to bear than death to meet!' + 'Son, how can I cease from weeping? + Bloody streams I see a-creeping + From Thine heart against my feet.' + + 'Mother, now I tell thee, I! + Better is it one should die + Than all men to hell should go.' + 'Son, I see Thy body hang + Foot and hand in pierced pang. + Who can wonder at my woe?' + + 'Mother, now I will thee tell, + If I live, thou goest to hell-- + I must die here for thy sake.' + 'Son, Thou art so mild and kind, + Nature, knowledge have enjoined + I, for Thee, this wail must make.' + + 'Mother, ponder now this thing: + Sorrow childbirth still must bring, + Sorrow 'tis to have a son!' + 'Ay, still sorrow, I can tell! + Mete it by the pain of hell, + Since more sorrow can be none.' + + 'Mother, pity mother's care! + Now as mother dost thou fare, + Though of maids the purest known.' + 'Son, Thou help at every need + All those who before me plead-- + Maid, wife--woman, everyone.' + + 'Mother, here I cannot dwell. + Time is that I pass to hell, + And the third day rise again.' + 'Son, I would depart with Thee. + Lo! Thy wounds are slaying me. + Death has no such sorrow--none.' + + When He rose, then fell her sorrow. + Sprang her bliss on the third morrow. + A blythe mother wert thou so! + Lady, for that selfsame bliss, + Pray thy Son who peerless is, + Be our shield against our foe. + + Blessed be thou, full of bliss! + Let us not heaven's safety miss, + Never! through thy sweet Son's might. + Jesus, for that selfsame blood + Which Thou sheddest upon rood, + Bring us to the heavenly light. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +58 Welbeck Street: Thursday, [September 2, 1852]. + +My dearest Mrs. Martin,--Your letters always make me glad to see them, +but this time the pleasure was tempered by an undeniable pain in the +conscience. Oh, I ought to have written long and long ago. I have +another letter of yours unanswered. Also, there was a proposition in it +to Robert of a tempting character, and he put off the 'no'--the +ungracious-sounding 'no'--as long as he could. He would have liked to +have seen Mrs. Flood, as well as you; she is a favorite with us both. +But he finds it impossible to leave London. We have had no less than +eight invitations into the country, and we are forced to keep to London, +in spite of all 'babbling about' and from 'green fields.' Once we went +to Farnham, and spent two days with Mr. and Mrs. Paine there in that +lovely heathy country, and met Mr. Kingsley, the 'Christian Socialist,' +author of 'Alton Locke,' 'Yeast,' &c. It is only two hours from town (or +less) by railroad, and we took our child with us and Flush, and had a +breath of fresh air which ought to have done us good, but didn't. Few +men have impressed me more agreeably than Mr. Kingsley. He is original +and earnest, and full of a genial and almost tender kindliness which is +delightful to me. Wild and theoretical in many ways he is of course, but +I believe he could not be otherwise than good and noble, let him say or +dream what he will. You are not to confound this visit of ours to +Farnham with the 'sanitary reform' picnic (!) to the same place, at +which the newspapers say we were present. We were _invited_--that is +true--but did not go, nor thought of it. I am not up to picnics--nor +_down_ to some of the company perhaps; who knows? Don't think me grown, +too, suddenly scornful, without being sure of the particulars.... + +Mr. Tennyson has a little son, and wrote me such three happy notes on +the occasion that I really never liked him so well before. I do like men +who are not ashamed to be happy beside a cradle. Monckton Milnes had a +brilliant christening luncheon, and his baby was made to sweep in India +muslin and Brussels lace among a very large circle of admiring guests. +Think of my vanity turning my head completely and admitting of my taking +Wiedeman there (because of an express invitation). He behaved like an +angel, everybody said, and looked very pretty, I said myself; only he +disgraced us all at last by refusing to kiss the baby, on the ground of +his being 'troppo grande.' He has learnt quantities of English words, +and is in consequence more unintelligible than ever. Poor darling! I am +in pain about him to-day. Wilson goes to spend a fortnight with her +mother, and I don't know how I shall be comforter enough. There will be +great wailing and gnashing of teeth certainly, and I shall be in prison +for the next two weeks, and have to do all the washing and dressing +myself.... + +Your ever affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +58 Welbeck Street: +Saturday, September 14, 1852 [postmark]. + +My dearest Miss Mitford,--I am tied and bound beyond redemption for the +next fortnight at least, therefore the hope of seeing you must be for +_afterwards_. I dare say you think that a child can be stowed away like +other goods; but I do assure you that my child, though quite capable of +being amused by his aunts for a certain number of half-hours, would +break his little heart if I left him for a whole day while he had not +Wilson. When she is here, he is contented. In her absence he is +sceptical about happiness, and suspicious of complete desolation. Every +now and then he says to me, 'Will mama' (saying it in his pretty, +broken, unquotable language) 'go away and leave Peninni all alone?' He +won't let a human being touch him. I wash and dress him, and have him to +sleep with me, and Robert is the only other helper he will allow of. +'There's spoiling of a child!' say you. But he is so good and tender and +sensitive that we can't go beyond a certain line. For instance, I was +quite frightened about the effect of Wilson's leaving him. We managed to +prepare him as well as we could, and when he found she was actually +gone, the passion of grief I had feared was just escaped. He struggled +with himself, the eyes full of tears, and the lips quivering, but there +was not any screaming and crying such as made me cry last year on a like +occasion. He had made up his mind. + +You see I can't go to you just now, whatever temptations you hold out. +Wait--oh, we must wait. And whenever I do go to you, you will see Robert +at the same time. He will like to see _you_; and besides, he would as +soon trust me to travel to Reading alone as I trust Peninni to be alone +here. I believe he thinks I should drop off my head and leave it under +the seat of the rail-carriage if he didn't take care of it.... + +I ought to have told you that Mr. Kingsley (one of the reasons why I +liked him) spoke warmly and admiringly of you. Yes, I ought to have told +you that--his praise is worth having. Of course I have heard much of Mr. +Harness from Mr. Kenyon and you, as well as from my own husband. But +there is no use in measuring temptations; I am a female St. Anthony, and +_won't_ be overcome. The Talfourds wanted me to dine with them on +Monday. Robert goes alone. You don't mention Mr. Chorley. Didn't he find +his way to you? + +Mr. Patmore told us that Tennyson was writing a poem on Arthur--_not_ an +epic, a collection of poems, ballad and otherwise, united by the +subject, after the manner of 'In Memoriam,' but in different measures. +The work will be full of beauty, whatever it is, I don't doubt. + +I am reading more Dumas. He never flags. I _must_ see Dumas when I go +again to Paris, and it will be easy, as we know his friend Jadin. + +Did you read Mrs. Norton's last book--the novel, which seems to be so +much praised? Tell me what it is, in your mind.... + +I will write no more, that you may have the answer to my kind +proposition as soon as possible. _After the fortnight._ + +God bless you. + +Your ever affectionate +E.B.B. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +58 Welbeck Street: Tuesday, [September 1852]. + +Alas, no; I cannot go to you before the Saturday you name, nor for some +days after, dearest friend. It is simply impossible. Wilson has not come +back, nor will till the end of next week, and though I can get away from +my child for two or three hours at once during the daytime, for the +whole day I could not go. What would become of him, poor darling?... + +And I can't go to you this week, nor next week, probably. How vexatious! +My comfort is that you seem to be better--much, much better--and that +you have courage to think of the pony carriages and the Kingsleys of the +earth. That man impressed me much, interested me much. The more you see +of him, the more you will like him, is my prophecy. He has a volume of +poems, I hear, close upon publication, and Robert and I are looking +forward to it eagerly. + +Mr. Ruskin has been to see us (did I tell you that?)... We went to +Denmark Hill yesterday by agreement, to see the Turners--which, by the +way, are divine. I like Mr. Ruskin much, and so does Robert. Very +gentle, yet earnest--refined and truthful. I like him very much. We +count him among the valuable acquaintances made this year in England.... + +Mr. Kenyon has come back, and most other people are gone away; but he is +worth more than most other people, so the advantage remains to the +scale. I am delighted that you should have your dear friend Mr. Harness +with you, and, for my own part, I do feel grateful to him for the good +he has evidently done you. Oh, continue to be better! Don't overtire +yourself--don't use improvidently the new strength. Remember the winter, +and be wise; and let me see you, before it comes, looking as bright and +well as I thought you last year. God bless you always. + +Love your ever affectionate +BA. + +Robert's love. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +London: Friday, [October 6, 1852]. + +My dearest Miss Mitford,--I am quite in pain to have to write a farewell +to you after all. As soon as Wilson had returned--and she stayed away +much longer than last year--we found ourselves pushed to the edge of our +time for remaining in England, and the accumulation of business to be +done before we could go pressed on us. I am almost mad with the amount +of things to be done, as it is; but I should have put the visit to you +at the head of them, and swept all the rest on one side for a day, if it +hadn't been for the detestable weather, and my horrible cough which +combines with it. When Wilson came back she found me coughing in my old +way, and it has been without intermission up to now, or rather waxing +worse and worse. To have gone down to you and inflicted the noise of it +on you would have simply made you nervous, while the risk to myself +would have been very great indeed. Still, I have waited and waited, +feeling it scarcely possible to write to you to say, 'I am not coming +this year.' Ah, I am so very sorry and disappointed! I hoped against +hope for a break in the weather, and an improvement in myself; now we +must go, and there is no hope. For about a fortnight I have been a +prisoner in the house. This climate won't let me live, there's the +truth. So we are going on Monday. We go to Paris for a week or two, and +then to Florence, and then to Rome, and then to Naples; but we shall be +back next year, if God pleases, and then I shall seize an early summer +day to run down straight to you and find you stronger, if God blesses me +so far. Think of me and love me a little meanwhile. I shall do it by +you. And do, _do_--since there is no time to hear from you in +London--send a fragment of a note to Arabel for me, that I may have it +in Paris before we set out on our long Italian journey. Let me have the +comfort of knowing exactly how you are before we set out. As for me, I +expect to be better on crossing the Channel. How people manage to live +and enjoy life in this fog and cold is inexplicable to me. I understand +the system of the American rapping spirits considerably better.... + +The Tennysons in their kindest words pressed us to be present at their +child's christening, which took place last Tuesday, but I could not go; +it was not possible. Robert went alone, therefore, and nursed the baby +for ten or twelve minutes, to its obvious contentment, he flatters +himself. It was christened Hallam Tennyson. Mr. Hallam was the +godfather, and present in his vocation. That was touching, wasn't it? I +hear that the Laureate talks vehemently against the French President and +the French; but for the rest he is genial and good, and has been quite +affectionate to us.... + +So I go without seeing you. Grieved I am. Love me to make amends. + +Robert's love goes with me. + +Your ever affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To John Kenyon_ + +[Paris,] Hotel de la Ville-l'Eveque, Rue Ville-l'Eveque: +Thursday, [November 1852]. + +My dearest Mr. Kenyon,--I cannot do better to-day than keep my promise +to you about writing. We have done our business in Paris, but we linger +from the inglorious reason that we, experienced travellers as we are, +actually left a desk behind us in Bentinck Street, and must get it +before we go farther. Meanwhile, it's rather dangerous to let the charm +of Paris work--the honey will be clogging our feet very soon, and make +it difficult to go away. What an attractive place this is, to be sure! +How the sun shines, how the blue sky spreads, how the life lives, and +how kind the people are on all sides! If we were going anywhere but to +Italy, and if I were a little less plainly mortal with this disagreeable +cough of mine, I would gladly stay and see in the Empire with M. +Proudhon in the tail of it, and sit as a watcher over whatever things +shall be this year and next spring at Paris. As it is, we have been very +fortunate, as usual, in being present in a balcony on the boulevard, the +best place possible for seeing the grandest spectacle in the world, the +reception of Louis Napoleon last Saturday. The day was brilliant, and +the sweep of sunshine over the streaming multitude, and all the military +and civil pomp, made it difficult to distinguish between the light and +life. The sunshine seemed literally to push back the houses to make room +for the crowd, and the wide boulevards looked wider than ever. If you +had cursed the sentiment of the day ever so, you would have had eyes for +its picturesqueness, I think, so I wish you had been there to see. +Louis Napoleon showed his usual tact and courage by riding on horseback +quite alone, at least ten paces between himself and his nearest escort, +which of course had a striking effect, taking the French on their weak +side, and startling even Miss Cushman (who had been murmuring +displeasure into my ear for an hour) into an exclamation of 'That's +fine, I must say.' Little Wiedeman was in a state of ecstasy, and has +been recounting ever since how he called '"Vive Napoleon!" _molto molto +duro_,' meaning _very loud_ (his Italian is not very much more correct, +you know, than his other languages), and how Napoleon took off his hat +to him directly. I don't see the English papers, but I conclude you are +all furious. You must make up your minds to it nevertheless--the Empire +is certain, and the feeling of all but unanimity (whatever the motive) +throughout France obvious enough. Smooth down the lion's mane of the +'Examiner,' and hint that roaring over a desert is a vain thing. As to +Victor Hugo's book, the very enemies of the present state of affairs +object to it that _he lies_ simply. There is not enough truth in it for +an invective to rest on, still less for an argument. It's an +inarticulate cry of a bird of prey, wild and strong irrational, and not +a book at all. For my part I did wave my handkerchief for the new +Emperor, but I bore the show very well, and said to myself, 'God bless +the people!' as the man who, to my apprehension, represents the +democracy, went past. A very intelligent Frenchman, caught in the crowd +and forced to grope his way slowly along, told me that the expression of +opinion everywhere was curiously the same, not a dissenting mutter did +he hear. Strange, strange, all this! For the drama of history we must +look to France, for startling situations, for the 'points' which thrill +you to the bone.... + +May God bless you meantime! Take care of yourself for the sake of us all +who love you, none indeed more affectionately and gratefully than + +R.B. and E.B.B. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] The Holy Scriptures. + +[2] Miss Haworth was a friend of Mr. Browning from very early days, and +was commemorated by him in 'Sordello' under the name of 'Eyebright' (see +Mrs. Orr's _Life_, p. 86). Her acquaintance with Mrs. Browning began +with this visit to London, and ripened into a warm friendship. One +subject of interest which they had in common was mesmerism, with the +attendant mysteries of spiritualism and Swedenborgianism; and references +to these are frequent in Mrs. Browning's letters to her. + +[3] So spelt in the earlier letters, but subsequently modified to +'Penini.' + +[4] Miss Mitford had lately moved into her new home at Swallowfield, +about three miles from the old cottage at Three Mile Cross, commemorated +in 'Our Village.' + +[5] The article was by M. Joseph Milsand, and led to the formation of +the warm friendship between him and Mr. Browning which lasted until the +death of the former in 1886. + +[6] The May edict restricted the franchise to electors who had resided +three years in the same district. In October Louis Napoleon proposed to +repeal it, and the refusal of the Assembly no doubt strengthened his +hold on the democracy. + +[7] The _coup d'etat_ took place in the early morning of December 2. + +[8] The constitution of 1848. + +[9] The point was rather whether they had the _power_. + +[10] Miss Mitford's _Recollections of a Literary Life_ contained a +chapter relating to Robert and Elizabeth Browning, in which, with the +best intentions in the world, she told the story of the drowning of +Edward Barrett, and of the gloom cast by it on his sister's life. It was +this revival of the greatest sorrow of her life that so upset Mrs. +Browning. + +[11] No doubt M. Milsand was the writer in question. + +[12] The (forged) _Letters of Shelley_, to which Mr. Browning wrote an +introduction, dealing rather with Shelley in general than with the +letters. + +[13] 'Lines to Elizabeth Barrett Browning on her Later Sonnets', printed +in the _Athenaeum_ for February 15, 1851. The allusion to the voice which +called 'Dinah' must refer to something in Miss Mulock's letter. Dinah +was Miss Mulock's Christian name. + +[14] In another letter, written about the same date to Mrs. Martin, Mrs. +Browning says: 'Perhaps you never heard of the crystal ball. The +original ball was bought by Lady Blessington from an "Egyptian +magician," and resold at her sale. She never could understand the use of +it, but others have looked deeper, or with purer eyes, it is said; and +now there is an optician in London who makes and sells these balls, and +speaks of a "great demand," though they are expensive. "Many persons," +said Lord Stanhope, "use the balls, without the moral courage to confess +it." No doubt they did. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +1852-55 + + +The middle of November found the travellers back again in Florence, and +it was nearly three years before they again quitted Italy. No doubt, +after the excitement of the _coup d'etat_ in Paris, and the subsequent +manoeuvres of Louis Napoleon, which culminated in this very month in +his exchanging the title of President for that of Emperor, Florence must +have seemed very quiet, if not dull. The political movement there was +dead; the Grand Duke, restored by Austrian bayonets, had abandoned all +pretence at reform and constitutional progress. In Piedmont, Cavour had +just been summoned to the head of the administration, but there were no +signs as yet of the use he was destined to make of his power. Of +politics, therefore, we hear little for the present. + +Nor is there much to note at this time in respect of literature. A new +edition of Mrs. Browning's poems was called for in 1853; but beyond some +minor revisions of detail it did not differ from the edition of 1850. +Her husband's play, 'Colombe's Birthday,' was produced at the Haymarket +Theatre during April, with Miss Faucit (Lady Martin) in the principal +part; but the poet had no share in the production, and his literary +activity must have been devoted to the composition of some of the fine +poems which subsequently formed the two volumes of 'Men and Women,' +which appeared in 1855. Mrs. Browning had also embarked on her longest +poem, 'Aurora Leigh,' and speaks of being happily and busily engaged in +work; but we hear little of it as yet in her correspondence. Her little +son and her Florentine friends and visitors form her principal subjects; +and we also see the beginning of a topic which for the next few years +occupied a good deal of her attention--namely, Spiritualism. + +The temperament of Mrs. Browning had in it a decidedly mystical vein, +which predisposed her to believe in any communication between our world +and that of the spirits. Hence when a number of people professed to have +such communication, she was not merely ready to listen to their claims, +but was by temperament inclined to accept them. The immense vogue which +spiritualism had during 'the fifties' tended to confirm her belief. It +was easy to say that where there was so much smoke there must be fire. +And what she believed, she believed strongly and with a perfect +conviction that no other view could be right. Just as her faith in Louis +Napoleon survived the _coup d'etat_, and even Villafranca, so her belief +in communications with the spirit world was proof against any exposure +of fraud on the part of the mediums. Not that she was guilty of the +absurdities which marked many of the devotees of spiritualism. She had a +great horror of submitting herself to mesmeric influences. She +recognised that very many of the supposed revelations of the spirits +were trivial, perhaps false; but to the fact that communications did +exist she adhered constantly. + +It is not of much interest now to discuss the ethics or the metaphysics +of the 'rapping spirits;' but the subject deserves more than a passing +mention in the life of Mrs. Browning, because it has been said, and +apparently with authority, that 'the only serious difference which ever +arose between Mr. Browning and his wife referred to the subject of +spiritualism.'[15] It is quite certain that Mr. Browning did not share +his wife's belief in spiritualism; a reference to 'Sludge the Medium' +is sufficient to establish his position in the matter. But it is easy to +make too much of the supposed 'difference.' Certainly it has left no +trace in Mrs. Browning's letters which are now extant. There is no sign +in them that the divergence of opinion produced the slightest discord in +the harmony of their life. No doubt Mr. Browning felt strongly as to the +character of some of the persons, whether mediums or their devotees, +with whom his wife was brought into contact, and he may have relieved +his feelings by strong expressions of his opinion concerning them; but +there is no reason to lay stress on this as indicating any serious +difference between himself and his wife. + +It has seemed necessary to say so much, lest it should be supposed that +any of the omissions, which have been made in order to reduce the bulk +of the letters within reasonable limits, cover passages in which such a +difference is spoken of. In no single instance is this the case. The +omissions have been made in the interests of the reader, not in order to +affect in any way the representation which the letters give of their +writer's feelings and character. With this preface they may be left to +tell their own tale. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +Florence: November 14, 1852 [postmark]. + +My dearest Sarianna,--You can't think how pleased I am to find myself in +Florence again in our own house, everything looking exactly as if we had +left it yesterday. Scarcely I can believe that we have gone away at all. +But Robert has been perfectly demoralised by Paris, and thinks it all as +dull as possible after the boulevards: 'no life, no variety.' Oh, of +course it _is_ very dead in comparison! but it's a beautiful death, and +what with the lovely climate, and the lovely associations, and the sense +of repose, I could turn myself on my pillow and sleep on here to the end +of my life; only be sure that I _shall do no such thing_. We are going +back to Paris; you will have us safe. Peninni had worked himself up to a +state of complete agitation on entering Florence, through hearing so +much about it. First he kissed me and then Robert again and again, as if +his little heart were full. '_Poor Florence_' said he while we passed +the bridge. Certainly there never was such a darling since the world +began.... I suffered extremely through our unfortunate election of the +Mont Cenis route (much more my own fault than Robert's), and was +extremely unwell at Genoa, to the extent of almost losing heart and +hope, which is a most unusual case with me, but the change from Lyons +had been too sudden and severe. At Genoa the weather was so exquisite, +so absolutely June weather, that at the end of a week's lying on the +sofa, I had rallied again quite, only poor darling Robert was horribly +vexed and out of spirits all that time, as was natural. I feel myself, +every now and then (and did then), like a weight round his neck, poor +darling, though he does not account it so, for his part. Well, but it +passed, and we were able to walk about beautiful Genoa the last two +days, and visit Andrea Doria's palace and enjoy everything together. +Then we came on by a night and day's diligence through a warm air, which +made me better and better. By the way, Turin is nearly as cold as +Chambery; you can't believe yourself to be in Italy. Susa, at the foot +of the Alps, is warmer. We were all delighted to hear the sound of our +dear Italian, and inclined to be charmed with everything; and Peninni +fairly expressed the kind of generalisations we were given to, when he +observed philosophically, 'In Italy, pussytats don't never _scwatch_, +mama.' This was in reply to an objection I had made to a project of his +about kissing the head of an enchanting pussy-cat who presented herself +in vision to him as we were dining at Turin.... God bless and preserve +you. We love you dearly, and talk of you continually--of both of you. +Your most affectionate sister, + +BA. + +Best love to your father.--Peninni. + + * * * * * + + +_To John Kenyon_ + +Casa Guidi: November 23, 1852. + +We flatter ourselves, dearest Mr. Kenyon, that as we think so much of +you, you may be thinking a little of us, and will not be sorry--who +knows?--to have a few words from us. + +November 24. + +Just as I was writing, had written, that sentence yesterday, came the +letter which contained your notelet. Thank you, thank you, dearest +friend, it is very pleasant to have such a sign from your hand across +the Alps of kindness and remembrance. As to my sins in the choice of the +Mont Cenis route, 'Bradshaw' was full of temptation, and the results to +me have so entirely passed away now, that even the wholesome state of +repentance is very faded in the colours. What chiefly remains is the +sense of wonderful contrast between climate and climate when we found +ourselves at Genoa and in June. I can't get rid of the astonishment of +it even now. At Turin I had to keep up a fire most of the night in my +bedroom, and at Genoa, with all the windows and doors open, we were +gasping for breath, languid with the heat, blue burning skies overhead, +and not enough stirring air for refreshment. Nothing less, perhaps, +would have restored me so soon, and it was delightful to be able during +our last two days of our ten days there to stand on Andrea Doria's +terrace, and look out on that beautiful bay with its sweep of marble +palaces. My 'unconquerable mind' even carried me halfway up the +lighthouse for the sake of the 'view,' only there I had to stop +ingloriously, and let Robert finish the course alone while I rested on a +bench: aspiration is not everything, either in literature or +lighthouses, you know, let us be ever so 'insolvent.' + +Well, and since we left Turin, everywhere in Italy we have found summer, +summer--not a fire have we needed even in Florence. Such mornings, such +evenings, such walkings out in the dusk, such sunsets over the Arno! +ah, Mr. Kenyon, you in England forget what life is in this out-of-door +fresh world, with your cloistral habits and necessities! I assure you I +can't help fancying that the winter is over and gone, the past looks so +cold and black in the warm light of the present. We have had some rain, +but at night, and only thundery frank rains which made the next day +warmer, and I have all but lost my cough, and am feeling very well and +very happy. + +Oh, yes, it made me glad to see our poor darling Florence again; I do +love Florence when all's said against it, and when Robert (demoralised +by Paris) has said most strongly that the place is dead, and dull, and +flat, which it is, I must confess, particularly to our eyes fresh from +the palpitating life of the Parisian boulevards, where we could scarcely +find our way to Prichard's for the crowd during our last fortnight +there. Poor Florence, so dead, as Robert says, and as we both feel, so +trodden flat in the dust of the vineyards by these mules of Austria and +these asses of the Papacy: good heavens! how long are these things to +endure? I do love Florence, when all's said. The very calm, the very +dying stillness is expressive and touching. And then our house, our +tables, our chairs, our carpets, everything looking rather better for +our having been away! Overjoyed I was to feel myself _at home_ again! +our Italians so pleased to see us, Wiedeman's nurse rushing in, kissing +my lips away almost, and seizing on the child, 'Dio mio, come e bellino! +the tears pouring down her cheeks, not able to look, for emotion, at the +shawl we had brought her from England. Poor Italians! who can help +caring for them, and feeling for them in their utter prostration just +now? The unanimity of despair on all sides is an affecting thing, I can +assure you. There is no mistake _here_, no possibility of mistake or +doubt as to the sentiment of the people towards the actual regime; and +if your English newspapers earnestly want to sympathise with an +oppressed people, let them speak a little for Tuscany. The most hopeful +word we have heard uttered by the Italians is, 'Surely it cannot last.' +It is the hope of the agonising. + +But our 'carta di soggiorno' was sent to us duly. The government is not +over learned in literature, oh no.... + +And only Robert has seen Mr. Powers yet, for he is in the crisis of +removal to a new house and studio, a great improvement on the last, and +an excellent sign of prosperity of course. He is to come to us some +evening as soon as he can take breath. We have had visits from the +attaches at the English embassy here, Mr. Wolf, and Mr. Lytton,[16] Sir +E. Bulwer Lytton's son, and I think we shall like the latter, who (a +reason for my particular sympathy) is inclined to various sorts of +spiritualism, and given to the magic arts. He told me yesterday that +several of the American rapping spirits are imported to Knebworth, to +his father's great satisfaction. A very young man, as you may suppose, +the son is; refined and gentle in manners. Sir Henry Bulwer is absent +from Florence just now. + +As to our house, it really looks better to my eyes than it used to look. +Mr. Lytton wondered yesterday how we could think of leaving it, and so +do I, almost. The letting has answered well enough; that is, it has paid +all expenses, leaving an advantage to us of a house during _six months_, +at our choice to occupy ourselves or let again. Also it might have been +let for a year (besides other offers), only our agent expecting us in +September, and mistaking our intentions generally, refused to do so. Now +I will tell you what our plans are. We shall stay here till we can let +our house. If we don't let it we shall continue to occupy it, and put +off Rome till the spring, but the probability is that we shall have an +offer before the end of December, which will be quite time enough for a +Roman winter. In fact, I hear of a fever at Rome and another at Naples, +and would rather, on every account, as far as I am concerned, stay a +little longer in Florence. I can be cautious, you see, upon some points, +and Roman fevers frighten me for our little Wiedeman. + +As to your 'science' of 'turning the necessity of travelling into a +luxury,' my dearest cousin, do let me say that, like some of the occult +sciences, it requires a good deal of gold to work out. Your too generous +kindness enabled us to do what we couldn't certainly have done without +it, but nothing would justify us, you know, in not considering the +cheapest way of doing things notwithstanding. So Bradshaw, as I say, +tempted us, and the sight of the short cut in the map (pure delusion +those maps are!) beguiled us, and we crossed the 'cold valley' and the +'cold mountain' when we shouldn't have done either, and we have bought +experience and paid for it. Never mind! experience is nearly always +worth its price. And I have nearly lost my cough, and Robert is dosing +me indefatigably with cod's liver oil to do away with my thinness.... + +Robert's best love, with that of your most + +Gratefully affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss I. Blagden_ + +[Florence: winter 1852-3.] + +[_The beginning of the letter is lost_] + +The state of things here in Tuscany is infamous and cruel. The old +serpent, the Pope, is wriggling his venom into the heart of all +possibilities of free thought and action. It is a dreadful state of +things. Austria the hand, the papal power the brain! and no energy in +the victim for resistance--only for hatred. They do hate here, I am glad +to say. + +But we linger at Florence in spite of all. It was delightful to find +ourselves in the old nest, still warm, of Casa Guidi, to sit in our own +chairs and sleep in our own beds; and here we shall stay as late +perhaps as March, if we don't re-let our house before. Then we go to +Rome and Naples. You can't think how we have caught up our ancient +traditions just where we left them, and relapsed into our former +soundless, stirless hermit life. Robert has not passed an evening from +home since we came--just as if we had never known Paris. People come +sometimes to have tea and talk with us, but that's all; a few +intelligent and interesting persons sometimes, such as Mr. Tennyson (the +poet's brother) and Mr. Lytton (the novelist's son) and Mr. Stuart, the +lecturer on Shakespeare, whom once I named to you, I fancy. Mr. Tennyson +married an Italian, and has four children. He has much of the atmosphere +poetic about him, a dreamy, speculative, shy man, reminding us of his +brother in certain respects; good and pure-minded. I like him. Young Mr. +Lytton is very young, as you may suppose, with all sorts of high +aspirations--and visionary enough to suit _me_, which is saying +much--and affectionate, with an apparent liking to us both, which is +engaging to us, of course. We have seen the Trollopes once, the younger +ones, but the elder Mrs. Trollope was visible neither at that time nor +since.... + +I sit here reading Dumas' 'last,' notwithstanding. Dumas is astonishing; +he never _will_ write himself out; there's no dust on his shoes after +all this running; his last books are better than his first. + +Do your American friends write ever to you about the rapping spirits? I +hear and would hear much of them. It is said that at least fifteen +thousand persons in America, of all classes and society, are _mediums_, +as the term is. Most curious these phenomena. + +[_The end of the letter is lost_] + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +Casa Guidi, Florence: February [1853]. + +I had just heard of your accident from Arabel, my much loved friend, and +was on the point of writing to you when your letter came. To say that I +was shocked and grieved to hear such news of you, is useless indeed; you +will feel how I have felt about it. May God bless and restore you, and +make me very thankful, as certainly I must be in such a case.... + +The comfort to me in your letter is the apparent good spirits you write +in, and the cheerful, active intentions you have of work for the delight +of us all. I clap my hands, and welcome the new volumes. Dearest friend, +I do wish I had heard about the French poetry in Paris, for there I +could have got at books and answered some of your questions. The truth +is, I don't know as much about French modern poetry as I ought to do in +the way of _metier_. The French essential poetry seems to me to flow out +into prose works, into their school of romances, and to be least +poetical when dyked up into rhythm. Mdme. Valmore I never read, but she +is esteemed highly, I think, for a certain _naivete_, and happy +surprises in the thought and feeling, _des mots charmants_. I wanted to +get her books in Paris, and missed them somehow; there was so much to +think of in Paris. Alfred de Musset's poems I read, collected in a +single volume; it is the only edition I ever met with. The French value +him extremely for his _music_; and there is much in him otherwise to +appreciate, I think; very beautiful things indeed. He is best to my mind +when he is most lyrical, and when he says things in a breath. His +elaborate poems are defective. One or two Spanish ballads of his seem to +me perfect, really. He has great power in the introduction of familiar +and conventional images without disturbing the ideal--a good power for +these days. The worst is that the moral atmosphere is _bad_, and that, +though I am not, as you know, the very least bit of a prude (not enough +perhaps), some of his poems must be admitted to be most offensive. Get +St. Beuve's poems, they have much beauty in them you will grant at once. +Then there is a Breton[17] poet whose name Robert and I have both of us +been ungrateful enough to forget--we have turned our brains over and +over and can't find the name anyhow--and who, indeed, deserves to be +remembered, who writes some fresh and charmingly simple idyllic poems, +one called, I think, 'Primel et Nola.' By that clue you may hunt him out +perhaps in the 'Revue des Deux Mondes.' There's no strong imagination, +understand--nothing of that sort! but you have a sweet, fresh, cool +sylvan feeling with him, rare among Frenchmen of his class. Edgar Quinet +has more positive genius. He is a man of grand, extravagant conceptions. +Do you know the 'Ahasuerus'? + +I wonder if the Empress pleases you as well as the Emperor. For my part, +I approve altogether, and none the less that he has offended Austria by +the mode of announcement. Every cut of the whip in the face of Austria +is an especial compliment to me--or, _so I feel it_. Let him head the +democracy and do his duty to the world, and use to the utmost his great +opportunities. Mr. Cobden and the Peace Society are pleasing me +infinitely just now in making head against the immorality (that's the +word) of the English press. The tone taken up towards France is immoral +in the highest degree, and the invasion cry would be idiotic if it were +not something worse. The Empress, I heard the other day from good +authority, is 'charming and good at heart.' She was educated 'at a +respectable school at Bristol' (Miss Rogers's, Royal Crescent, Clifton), +and is very 'English,' which doesn't prevent her from shooting with +pistols, leaping gates, driving 'four-in-hand,' and upsetting the +carriage when the frolic requires it, as brave as a lion and as true as +a dog. Her complexion is like marble, white, pale and pure; her hair +light, rather 'sandy,' they say, and she powders it with gold dust for +effect; but there is less physical and more intellectual beauty than is +generally attributed to her. She is a woman of 'very decided opinions.' +I like all that, don't you? and I liked her letter to the Prefet, as +everybody must. Ah, if the English press were in earnest in the cause of +liberty, there would be something to say for our poor trampled-down +Italy--much to say, I mean. Under my eyes is a people really oppressed, +really groaning its heart out. But these things are spoken of with +measure. + +We are reading Lamartine and Proudhon on '48. We have plenty of French +books here; only the poets are to seek--the moderns. Do you catch sight +of Moore in diary and letters? Robert, who has had glimpses of him, says +the 'flunkeyism' is quite humiliating. It is strange that you have not +heard more of the rapping spirits. They are worth hearing of were it +only in the point of view of the physiognomy of the times, as a sign of +hallucination and credulity, if not more. Fifteen thousand persons in +all ranks of society, and all degrees of education, are said to be +_mediums_, that is _seers_, or rather hearers and recipients, perhaps. +Oh, I can't tell you all about it; but the details are most curious. I +understand that Dickens has caught a wandering spirit in London and +showed him up victoriously in 'Household Words' as neither more nor less +than the 'cracking of toe joints;' but it is absurd to try to adapt such +an explanation to cases in general. You know I am rather a visionary, +and inclined to knock round at all the doors of the present world to try +to get out, so that I listen with interest to every goblin story of the +kind, and, indeed, I hear enough of them just now. + +We heard nothing, however, from the American Minister, Mr. Marsh, and +his wife, who have just come from Constantinople in consequence of the +change of Presidency, and who passed an evening with us a few days ago. +She is pretty and interesting, a great invalid and almost blind, yet she +has lately been to Jerusalem, and insisted on being carried to the top +of Mount Horeb. After which I certainly should have the courage to +attempt the journey myself, if we had money enough. Going to the Holy +Land has been a favorite dream of Robert's and mine ever since we were +married, and some day you will wonder why I don't write, and hear +suddenly that I am lost in the desert. You will wonder, too, at our +wandering madness, by the way, more than at any rapping spirit extant; +we have 'a spirit in our feet,' as Shelley says in his lovely Eastern +song--and our child is as bad as either of us. He says, 'I _tuite_ tired +of _Flolence_. I want to go to _Brome_,' which is worse than either of +us. I never am tired of Florence. Robert has had an application from +Miss Faucit (now Mrs. Martin) to bring out his 'Colombe's Birthday' at +the Haymarket. + +[_The remainder of this letter is missing_] + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss I. Blagden_ + +Florence: March 3, 1853. + +My dearest Isa, ... You have seen in the papers that Sir Edward Lytton +Bulwer has had an accident in the arm, which keeps him away from the +House of Commons, and even from the Haymarket, where they are acting his +play ('Not so bad as we seem') with some success. Well, here is a +curious thing about it. Mr. Lytton told us some time ago, that, by +several clairvoyantes, without knowledge or connection with one another, +an impending accident had been announced to him, 'not fatal, but +serious.' Mr. Lytton said, 'I have been very uneasy about it, and +nervous as every letter arrived, but nearly three months having passed, +I began to think they must have made a mistake--only it is curious that +they all should _all_ make a mistake of the same kind precisely.' When +after this we saw the accident in the paper, it was effective, as you +may suppose! + +Profane or not, I am resolved on getting as near to a solution of the +spirit question as I can, and I don't believe in the least risk of +profanity, seeing that whatever is, must be permitted; and that the +contemplation of whatever is, must be permitted also, where the +intentions are pure and reverent. I can discern no more danger in +psychology than in mineralogy, only intensely a greater interest. As to +the spirits, I care less about what they are capable of communicating, +than of the fact of there being communications. I certainly wouldn't set +about building a system of theology out of their oracles. God forbid. +They seem abundantly foolish, one must admit. There is probably, +however, a mixture of good spirits and bad, foolish and wise, of the +lower orders perhaps, in both kinds.... + +Isa, you and I must try to make head against the strong-minded women, +though really you half frighten me prospectively.... + +---- ----, one of the strong-minded, we just escaped with life from in +London, and again in Paris. In Rome she has us! What makes me talk so +ill-naturedly is the information I have since received, that she has put +everybody unfortunate enough to be caught, into a book, and published +them at full length, in American fashion. Now I do confess to the +greatest horror of being caught, stuck through with a pin, and +beautifully preserved with other butterflies and beetles, even in the +album of a Corinna in yellow silk. I detest that particular sort of +victimisation.... + +We are invited to go to Constantinople this summer, to visit the +American Minister there. There's a temptation for you! + +God bless you, dearest Isa. I shall be delighted to see you again, and +so will Robert! I always feel (I say to him sometimes) that you love me +a little, and that I may rest on you. Your ever affectionate friend, + +ELIZABETH B. BROWNING. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +Florence: March 15, [1853]. + + ... The spring has surprised us here just as we were beginning to murmur +at the cold. Think of somebody advising me the other day not to send out +my child without a double-lined parasol! There's a precaution for March! +The sun is powerful--we are rejoicing in our Italian climate. Oh, that I +could cut out just a mantle of it to wrap myself in, and so go and see +you. Your house is dry, you say. Is the room you occupy airy as well as +warm? Because being confined to a small room, with you who are so used +to liberty and out of door life, must be depressing to the vital +energies. Do you read much? No, no, you ought not to think of the press, +of course, till you are strong. Ah--if you should get to London to see +our play, how glad I should be! We, too, talk of London, but somewhat +mistily, and not so early in the summer. Mr. and Mrs. Marsh--he is the +American Minister at Constantinople--have been staying in Florence, and +passing some evenings with us. They tempt us with an invitation to +Constantinople this summer, which would be irresistible if we had the +money for the voyage, perhaps, so perhaps it is as well that we have +not. Enough for us that we are going to Rome and to Naples, then +northward. I am busy in the meanwhile with various things, a new poem, +and revising for a third edition which is called for by the gracious +public. Robert too is busy with another book. Then I am helping to make +frocks for my child, reading Proudhon (and Swedenborg) and in deep +meditation on the nature of the rapping spirits, upon whom, I +understand, a fellow dramatist of yours, Henry Spicer (I think you once +mentioned him to me as such), has just written a book entitled, 'The +Mystery of the Age.' A happy winter it has been to me altogether. We +have had so much repose, and at the same time so much interest in life, +also I have been so well, that I shall be sorry when we go out of +harbour again with the spring breezes. We like Mr. Tennyson extremely, +and he is a constant visitor of ours: the poet's elder brother. By the +way, the new edition of the Ode on the Duke of Wellington seems to +contain wonderful strokes of improvement. Have you seen it? As to +Alexandre Dumas, Fils, I hope it is not true that he is in any scrape +from the cause you mention. He is very clever, and I have a feeling for +him for his father's sake as well as because he presents a rare instance +of intellectual heirship. Didn't I tell you of the prodigious success of +his drama of the 'Dame aux Camelias,' which ran about a hundred nights +last year, and is running again? how there were caricatures on the +boulevards, showing the public of the pit holding up umbrellas to +protect themselves from the tears rained down by the public of the +boxes? how the President of the Republic went to see, and sent a +bracelet to the first actress, and how the English newspapers called him +immoral for it? how I went to see, myself, and cried so that I was ill +for two days and how my aunt called _me_ immoral for it? I was properly +lectured, I assure you. She 'quite wondered how Mr. Browning could allow +such a thing,' not comprehending that Mr. Browning never, or scarcely +ever, does think of restraining his wife from anything she much pleases +to do. The play was too painful, that was the worst of it, but I +maintain it is a highly moral play, rightly considered, and the acting +was most certainly most exquisite on the part of all the performers. Not +that Alexandre Dumas, Fils, excels generally in morals (in his books, I +mean), but he is really a promising writer as to cleverness, and when he +has learnt a little more art he will take no low rank as a novelist. +Robert has just been reading a tale of his called 'Diane de Lys,' and +throws it down with--'You must read that, Ba--it is clever--only +outrageous as to the morals.' Just what I should expect from Alexandre +Dumas, Fils. I have a tenderness for the whole family, you see. + +You don't say a word to me of Mrs. Beecher Stowe. How did her book[18] +impress you? No woman ever had such a success, such a fame; no man ever +had, in a single book. For my part I rejoice greatly in it. It is an +individual glory full of healthy influence and benediction to the world. + +[_The remainder of this letter is missing_] + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +Casa Guidi, Florence: March 17, [1853]. + +Thank you--how to thank you enough--for the too kind present of the +'Madonna,'[19] dearest Mona Nina. I will not wait to read it through--we +have only _looked_ through it, which is different; but there is enough +seen so beautiful as to deserve the world's thanks, to say nothing of +ours, and there are personal reasons besides why _we_ should thank you. +Have you not quoted us, have you not sent us the book? Surely, good +reasons. + +But now, be still better to me, and write and say how you are. I want to +know that you are quite well; if you can tell me so, do. You have told +me of a new book, which is excellent news, and I hear from another +quarter that it will consist of your 'Readings' and 'Remarks,' a sort of +book most likely to penetrate widely and be popular in a good sense. +Would it not be well to bring out such a work volume by volume at +intervals? Is it this you are contemplating?... + +Robert and I have had a very happy winter in Florence; let me, any way, +answer for myself. I have been well, and we have been quiet and +occupied; reading books, doing work, playing with Wiedeman; and with +nothing from without to vex us much. At the end of it all, we go to +Rome certainly; but we have taken on this apartment for another year, +which Robert decided on to please me, and because it was reasonable on +the whole. We have been meditating Socialism and mysticism of very +various kinds, deep in Louis Blanc and Proudhon, deeper in the German +spiritualists, added to which, I have by no means given up my French +novels and my rapping spirits, of whom our American guests bring us +relays of witnesses. So we don't absolutely moulder here in the +intellect, only Robert (and indeed I have too) has tender recollections +of 'that blaze of life in Paris,' and we both mean to go back to it +presently. No place like Paris for living in. Here, one sleeps, +'perchance to dream,' and praises the pillow. + +We had a letter from our friend M. Milsand yesterday; you see he does +not forget us--no, indeed. In speaking of the state of things in France, +which I had asked him to do, he says, he is not sanguine (he never _is_ +sanguine, I must tell you, about anything), though entirely dissentient +from _la presse Anglaise_. He considers on the whole that the _status_ +is as good as can be desired, as a _stable foundation for the +development of future institutions_. It is in that point of view that he +regards the situation. So do I. As to the English press, I, who am not +'Anglomane' like our friend, I call it plainly either maniacal or +immoral, let it choose the epithet. The invasion cry, for instance, I +really can't qualify it; I can't comprehend it with motives all good and +fair. I throw it over to you to analyse. + +With regard to the sudden death of French literature, you all exaggerate +that like the rest. If you look into even the 'Revue des Deux Mondes' +for the year 1852, you will see that a few books are still published. +_Pazienza._ Things will turn up better than you suppose. Newspapers +breathe heavily just now, that's undeniable; but for book literature the +government _never has_ touched it with a finger. I ascertained _that_ as +a fact when I was in Paris. + +None of you in England understand what the crisis has been in France; +and how critical measures have been necessary. Lamartine's work on the +revolution of '48 is one of the best apologies for Louis Napoleon; and, +if you want another, take Louis Blanc's work on the same. + +Isn't it a shame that nobody comes from the north to the south, after a +hundred oaths? I hear nothing of dear Mr. Kenyon. I hear nothing from +you of _your_ coming. You won't come, any of you.... + +I am much relieved by hearing that Mazzini is gone from Italy, whatever +Lord Malmesbury may say of it. Every day I expected to be told that he +was taken at Milan and shot. A noble man, though incompetent, I think, +to his own aspiration; but a man who personally has my sympathies +always. The state of things here is cruel, the people are one groan. God +deliver us all, I must pray, and by almost any means. + +As to your Ministry, I don't expect very much from it. Lord Aberdeen, +'put on' to Lord John, is using the drag uphill. They will do just as +little as they can, be certain. + +Think of my submitting at last to the conjugal will and cod's liver +oil--yes, and think of its doing me good. The cough was nearly, if not +quite, gone because of the climate, before I took the oil, but it does +me good by making me gain in flesh. I am much less thin, and very well, +and dearest Robert triumphant. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +Florence: April 12, [1853]. + +The comfort is, my ever loved friend, that here is spring--summer, as +translated into Italy--if fine weather is to set you up again. I shall +be very thankful to have better news of you; to hear of your being out +of that room and loosened into some happy condition of liberty. It seems +unnatural to think of you in one room. _That_ seems fitter for _me_, +doesn't it? And the rooms in England are so low and small, that they +put double bars on one's captivity. May God bring you out with the +chestnut trees and elms! It's very sad meanwhile. + +Comfort yourself, dear friend! Admire Louis Napoleon. He's an +extraordinary man beyond all doubt; and that he has achieved great good +for France, _I_ do not in the least doubt. I was only telling you that I +had not finished my pedestal for him--wait a little. Because, you see, +for my part, I don't go over to the system of 'mild despotisms,' no, +indeed. I am a democrat to the bone of me. It is simply as a +democratical ruler, and by grace of the people, that I accept him, and +he must justify himself by more deeds to his position before he +glorifies himself before _me_. That's what I mean to say. A mild despot +in France, let him be the Archangel Gabriel, unless he hold the kingdom +in perpetuity, what is the consequence? A successor like the Archangel +Lucifer, perhaps. Then, for the press, where there is thought, there +must be discussion or conspiracy. Are you aware of the amount of readers +in France? Take away the 'Times' newspaper, and the blow falls on a +handful of readers, on a section of what may be called the aristocracy. +But everybody reads in France. Every fiacre driver who waits for you at +a shop door, beguiles the time with a newspaper. It is on that account +that the influence of the press is dangerous, you will say. Precisely +so; but also, on that account too, it is necessary. No; I hold, myself, +that he will give more breathing room to France, as circumstances admit +of it. Else, there will be convulsion. You will see. We shall see. And +Louis Napoleon, who is wise, _foresees_, I cannot doubt. + +Not read Mrs. Stowe's book! But you _must_. Her book is quite a sign of +the times and has otherwise and intrinsically considerable power. For +myself, I rejoice in the success, both as a woman and a human being. Oh, +and is it possible that you think a woman has no business with questions +like the question of slavery? Then she had better use a pen no more. +She had better subside into slavery and concubinage herself, I think, as +in the times of old, shut herself up with the Penelopes in the 'women's +apartment,' and take no rank among thinkers and speakers. Certainly you +are not in earnest in these things. A difficult question--yes! All +virtue is difficult. England found it difficult. France found it +difficult. But we did not make ourselves an arm-chair of our sins. As +for America, I honor America in much; but I would not be an American for +the world while she wears that shameful scar upon her brow. The address +of the new President[20] exasperates me. Observe, I am an abolitionist, +not to the fanatical degree, because I hold that compensation should be +given by the North to the South, as in England. The States should unite +in buying off this national disgrace. + +The Americans are very kind and earnest, and I like them all the better +for their warm feeling towards you. Is Longfellow agreeable in his +personal relations? We knew his brother, I think I told you, in Paris. I +suppose Mr. Field has been liberal to Thackeray, and yet Thackeray does +not except him in certain observations on American publishers. We shall +have an arrangement made of some sort, it appears. Mr. Forster wants me +to add some new poems to my new edition, in order to secure the +copyright under the new law. But as the law does not act backwards, I +don't see how new poems would save me. They would just sweep out the new +poems--that's all. One or two lyrics could not be made an object, and in +those two thick volumes, nearly bursting with their present contents, +there would not be room for many additions. No, I shall add nothing. I +have revised the edition very carefully, and made everything better. It +vexed me to see how much there was to do. Positively, even rhymes left +unrhymed in 'Lady Geraldine's Courtship.' You don't write so carelessly, +not you, and the reward is that you haven't so much trouble in your new +editions. I see your book advertised in a stray number of the 'Athenaeum' +lent to me by Mr. Tennyson--Frederick. He lent it to me because I wanted +to see the article on the new poet, Alexander Smith, who appears so +applauded everywhere. He has the poet's _stuff_ in him, one may see from +the extracts. Do you know him? And Coventry Patmore--have you heard +anything of _his_ book,[21] of which appears an advertisement? + +Ah, yes; how unfortunate that you should have parted with your +copyrights! It's a bad plan always, except in the case of novels which +have their day, and no day after. + +The poem I am about will fill a volume when done. It is the novel or +romance I have been hankering after so long, written in blank verse, in +the autobiographical form; the heroine, an artist woman--not a painter, +mind. It is intensely modern, crammed from the times (not the 'Times' +newspaper) as far as my strength will allow. Perhaps you won't like it, +perhaps you will. Who knows? who dares hope? + +I am beginning to be anxious about 'Colombe's Birthday.' I care much +more about it than Robert does. He says that nobody will mistake it for +_his_ speculation, it's Mr. Buckstone's affair altogether. True; but I +should like it to succeed, being Robert's play notwithstanding. But the +play is subtle and refined for pits and galleries. I am nervous about +it. On the other hand, those theatrical people ought to know; and what +in the world made them select it if it is not likely to answer their +purpose? By the way, a dreadful rumour reaches us of its having been +'_prepared for the stage by the author_.' Don't believe a word of it. +Robert just said 'yes' when they wrote to ask him, and not a line of +communication has passed since. He has prepared nothing at all, +suggested nothing, modified nothing. He referred them to his new +edition; and that was the whole. + +We see a great deal of Mr. Tennyson. Robert is very fond of him, and so +am I. He too writes poems, and prints them, though not for the public. +They are better and stronger than Charles Tennyson's, and he has the +poetical temperament in everything. Did I tell you that he had married +an Italian, and had children from twelve years old downwards? He is +intensely English nevertheless, as expatriated Englishmen generally are. +I always tell Robert that his patriotism grows and deepens in exact +proportion as he goes away from England. As for me, it is not so with +me. I am very cosmopolitan, and am considerably tired of the +self-deification of the English nation at the expense of all others. We +have some noble advantages over the rest of the world, but it is not all +advantage. The shameful details of bribery, for instance, prove what I +have continually maintained, the non-representativeness of our +'representative system;' and, socially speaking, we are much behindhand +with most foreign peoples. Let us be proud in the right place, I say, +and not in the wrong. 'We see too a good deal of young Lytton, Sir +Edward's only son, an interesting young man, with various sorts of good, +and aspiration to good, in him. You see we are not at Rome yet. Do write +to me. Speak of yourself particularly. God bless you, dearest friend. +Believe that I think of you and love you most faithfully. + +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +Florence: April 21, 1853. + +My dearest Mrs. Martin,--I am in consternation and vexation on receiving +your letter. What you must have thought of me all this time! Of course I +never saw the letters which went to Rome. Letters sent to Poste +restante, Rome, are generally lost, even if you are a Roman: and we are +no Romans, alas! nor likely to become such, it seems to me. There's a +fatality about Rome to us. I waited for you to write, and then waited on +foolishly for the settlement of our own plans, after I had ascertained +that you were not in Devonshire, but in France as usual. Now, I can't +help writing, though I have written a letter already which must have +crossed yours--a long letter--so that you will have more than enough of +me this time. + +It's comfort and pleasure after all to have a good account of you both, +my very dear friends, even though one knows by it that you have been +sending one 'al diavolo' for weeks or months. Forgive me, do. I feel +guilty somehow to the extreme degree, that four letters should have been +written to me, even though I received none of them, because I ought to +have written at least one letter in that time. + +Your politics would be my politics on most points; we should run +together more than halfway, if we could stand side by side, in spite of +all your vindictiveness to N. III. My hero--say you? Well, I have more +belief in him than you have. And what is curious, and would be +unaccountable, I suppose, to English politicians in general, the Italian +democrats of the lower classes, the popular clubs in Florence, are +clinging to him as their one hope. Ah, here's oppression! here's a +people trodden down! You should come here and see. It is enough to turn +the depths of the heart bitter. The will of the people forced, their +instinctive affections despised, their liberty of thought spied into, +their national life ignored altogether. Robert keeps saying, 'How long, +O Lord, how long?' Such things cannot last, surely. Oh, this brutal +Austria! + +I myself expect help from Louis Napoleon, though scarcely in the way +that the clubs are said to do. When I talk of a club, of course I mean a +secret combination of men--young men who meet to read forbidden +newspapers and talk forbidden subjects. He won't help the Mazzinians, +but he will do something for Italy, you will see. The Cardinals feel +it, and that's why they won't let the Pope go to Paris. We shall see. I +seem to catch sight of the grey of dawn even in the French Government +papers, and am full of hope. + +As to Mazzini, he is a noble man and an unwise man. Unfortunately the +epithets are compatible. Kossuth is neither very noble nor very wise. I +have heard and _felt_ a great deal of harm of him. The truth is not in +him. And when a patriot lies like a Jesuit, what are we to say? + +For England--do you approve of the fleet staying on at Malta? We are +prepared to do nothing which costs us a halfpenny for a less gain than +three farthings--always excepting the glorious national defences, which +have their end too, though not the one generally attributed.... + +God bless you, my dear, dear friends! Care in your thoughts for us all! + +Your ever affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To John Kenyon_ + +Casa Guidi: May 16 [1853]. + +My dearest Mr. Kenyon,--You are to be thanked and loved as ever, and +what can we say more? This: Do be good to us by a supererogatory virtue +and write to us. You can't know how pleasant it is to be _en rapport_ +with you, though by holding such a fringe of a garment as a scrap of +letter is. We don't see you, we don't hear you! 'Rap' to us with the end +of your pen, like the benign spirit you are, and let me (who am +credulous) believe that you care for us and think kindly of us in the +midst of your brilliant London gossipry, and that you don't disdain the +talk of us, dark ultramontanists as we are. You are good to us in so +many ways, that it's a reason for being good in another way besides. At +least, to reason so is one of the foolishnesses of my gratitude. + +On the whole, I am satisfied with regard to 'Colombe.' I never expected +a theatrical success, properly and vulgarly so called; and the play has +taken rank, to judge by the various criticisms, in the right way, as a +true poet's work: the defects of the acting drama seemed recognised as +the qualities of the poem. It was impossible all that subtle tracery of +thought and feeling should be painted out clear red and ochre with a +house-painter's brush, and lose nothing of its effect.[22] A play that +runs nowadays has generally four legs to run with--something of the +beast to keep it going. The human biped with the 'os divinior' is slower +than a racehorse even. What I hope is, that the poetical appreciation of +'Colombe' will give an impulse to the sale of the poems, which will be +more acceptable to us than the other kind of success.... + +Yes, dearest Mr. Kenyon, we mean, if we can, to go to Rome in the +autumn. It is very wrong of you not to come too, and the reasons you +give against it are by no means conclusive. My opinion is that, whatever +the term of your natural life may be, you would probably have an +additional ten years fastened on to it by coming to the Continent, and +so I tease you and tease you, as is natural to such an opinion. People +twirl now in their arm-chairs, and the vitality in them kindles as they +rush along. Remember how pleased you were when you were at Como! Don't +draw a chalk circle round you and fancy you can't move. Even tables and +chairs have taken to move lately, and hats spin round without a giddy +head in them. Is this a time to stand still, even in the garden at +Wimbledon? 'I speak to a wise man; judge what I say.' + +We tried the table experiment in this room a few days since, +by-the-bye, and failed; but we were impatient, and Robert was playing +Mephistopheles, as Mr. Lytton said, and there was little chance of +success under the circumstances. It has been done several times in +Florence, and the fact of the possibility seems to have passed among +'attested facts.' There was a placard on the wall yesterday about a +pamphlet purporting to be an account of these and similar phenomena +'scoperte a Livorno,' referring to 'oggetti semoventi' and other +wonders. You can't even look at a wall without a touch of the subject. +The _circoli_ at Florence are as revolutionary as ever, only tilting +over tables instead of States, alas! From the Legation to the English +chemist's, people are 'serving tables' (in spite of the Apostle) +everywhere. When people gather round a table it isn't to play whist. So +good, you say. You can believe in table-moving, because _that_ may be +'electricity;' but you can't believe in the 'rapping spirits,' with the +history of whom these movements are undeniably connected, because it's +'a jump.' Well, but you will jump when the time comes for jumping, and +when the evidence is strong enough. I know you; you are strong enough +and true enough to jump at anything, without being afraid. The tables +jump, observe--and _you_ may jump. Meanwhile, if you were to hear what +we heard only the evening before last from a cultivated woman with +truthful, tearful eyes, whose sister is a medium, and whose mother +believes herself to be in daily communion with her eldest daughter, dead +years ago--if you were to hear what we hear from nearly all the +Americans who come to us, their personal experiences, irrespectively of +paid mediums, I wonder if you would admit the possibility of your even +jumping! Robert, who won't believe, he says, till he sees and hears with +his own senses--Robert, who is a sceptic--observed of himself the other +day, that we had received as much evidence of these spirits as of the +existence of the town of Washington. But then of course he would +add--and you would, reasonably enough--that in a matter of this kind +(where you have to jump) you require more evidence, double the evidence, +to what you require for the existence of Washington. That's true. + +[_Incomplete_] + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss E.F. Haworth_ + +Florence: June [1853]. + +My dearest Fanny,--I hope you will write to me as if I deserved it. You +see, my first word is to avert the consequences of my sin instead of +repenting of it in the proper and effectual way. The truth is, that ever +since I received your letter we have been looking out for 'messengers' +from the Legation, so as to save you postage; while the Embassy people +have been regularly forgetting us whenever there has been an +opportunity. By the way, I catch up that word of 'postage' to beg you +_never to think of it_ when inclined in charity to write to us. If you +knew what a sublunary thing--oh, far below any visible moon!--postage is +to us exiles! Too glad we are to get a letter and pay for it. So write +to me _directly_, dear Fanny, when you think enough of us for that, and +write at length, and tell us of yourself first, swirling off into Pope's +circles--'your country first and then the human race'--and, indeed, we +get little news from home on the subjects which especially interest us. +My sister sends me heaps of near things, but she is not in the magnetic +circles, nor in the literary, nor even in the gossiping. Be good to us, +_you_ who stand near the fountains of life! Every cup of cold water is +worth a ducat here. + +To wait to a second page without thanking you for your kindness and +sympathy about 'Colombe' does not do justice to the grateful sense I had +of both at the time, and have now. We were _very_ glad to have your +opinion and impressions. Most of our friends took for granted that we +had supernatural communications on the subject, and did not send us a +word. Mrs. Duncan Stewart was one of the kind exceptions (with yourself +and one or two more), and I write to thank her. It was very pleasant to +hear what you said, dear Fanny. Certainly, says the author, you are +right, and Helen Faucit wrong, in the particular reading you refer to; +but she seems to have been right in so much, that we should only +remember our grateful thoughts of her in general. + +Now what am I to say about my illustrations--that is, your illustrations +of my poems? To thank you again and again first. To be eager next to see +what is done. To be sure it is good, and surer still that _you_ are good +for spending your strength on me. See how it is. When you wrote to me, a +new edition was in the press; yes, and I was expecting every day to hear +it was out again. But it would not have done, I suppose, to have used +illustrations for that sort of edition; it would have raised the price +(already too high) beyond the public. But there will be time always for +such arrangements--when it so pleases Mr. Chapman, I suppose. Do tell me +more of what you have done. + +We did not go to Rome last winter, in spite of the spirits of the sun +who declared from Lord Stanhope's crystal ball, you remember, that we +should. And we don't go to England till next summer, because we must see +Rome next winter, and must lie _perdus_ in Italy meantime. I have had a +happy winter in Florence, recovered my lost advantages in point of +health, been busy and tranquil, had plenty of books and talk, and seen +my child grow rosier and prettier (said aside) every day. Robert and I +are talking of going up to the monasteries beyond Vallombrosa for a day +or two, on mule-back through forests and mountains. We have had an +excursion to Prato (less difficult) already, and we keep various dreams +in our heads to be acted out on occasion. Our favorite friend here is a +brother of Alfred Tennyson's, himself a poet, but most admirable to me +for his simplicity and truth. Robert is very fond of him. Then we like +Powers--of the 'Greek Slave'--Swedenborgian and spiritualist; and Mr. +Lytton, Sir Edward's son, who is with us often, and always a welcome +visitor. All these confederate friends are ranged with me on the +believing side with regard to the phenomena, and Robert has to keep us +at bay as he best can. Oh, do tell me what you can. Your account deeply +interested me. We have heard many more intimate personal relations from +Americans who brush us with their garments as they pass through +Florence, and I should like to talk these things over with you. Paid +mediums, as paid clairvoyants in general, excite a prejudice; yet, +perhaps, not reasonably. The curious fact in this movement is, however, +the degree in which it works within private families in America. Has +anything of the kind appeared in England? And has the motion of the +tables ever taken the form of alphabetical expression, which has been +the case in America? I had a letter from Athens the other day, +mentioning that 'nothing was talked of there except moving tables and +spiritual manifestations.' (The writer was not a believer.) Even here, +from the priest to the Mazzinian, they are making circles. An engraving +of a spinning table at a shop window bears this motto: '_E pur si +muove!_' That's adroit for Galileo's land, isn't it? Now mind you tell +me whatever you hear and see. How does Mrs. Crowe decide? By the way, I +was glad to observe by the papers that she has had a dramatic success. + +Your Alexander Smith has noble stuff in him. It's undeniable, indeed. It +strikes us, however, that he has more imagery than verity, more colour +than form. He will learn to be less arbitrary in the use of his +figures--of which the opulence is so striking--and attain, as he ripens, +more clearness of outline and depth of intention. Meanwhile none but a +poet could write this, and this, and this. + +Your faithfully affectionate +E.B.B., properly speaking BA. + +July 3. + +This was written ever so long since. Here we are in July; but I won't +write it over again. The 'tables' are speaking alphabetically and +intelligently in Paris; they knock with their legs on the floor, +establishing (what was clear enough before to _me_) the connection +between the table-moving and 'rapping spirits.' Sarianna--who is of the +unbelieving of temperaments, as you know--wrote a most curious account +to me the other day of a seance at which she had been present, composed +simply of one or two of our own honest friends and of a young friend of +theirs, a young lady....[23] She says that she 'was not as much +impressed as she would have been,' 'but I am bound to tell the truth, +that I _do not think it possible that any tricks could have been +played_.' + +This from Sarianna is equal to the same testimony--from Mr. Chorley, +say! + +We are planning a retreat into the mountains--into Giotto's country, the +Casentino--where we are to find a villa for almost nothing, and shall +have our letters sent daily from Florence, together with books and +newspapers. I look forward to it with joy. We promise one another to be +industrious _a faire fremir_, so as to make the pleasure lawful. Little +Penini walks about, talking of 'mine villa,' anxiously hoping that 'some +boys' may not have pulled all the flowers before he gets there. He +boasts, with considerable complacency, that 'a table in Pallis says I am +four years,' though the fact doesn't strike him as extraordinary. + +Do you ever see Mr. Kenyon? I congratulate you on your friend's 'Coeur +de Lion.' _That_ has given you pleasure. + + * * * * * + + +The summer 'retreat' from Florence this year was not to the Casentino +after all, but to the Baths of Lucca, which they had already visited in +1849. During their stay there, which lasted from July to October, Mr. +Browning is said to have composed 'In a Balcony.' + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +Florence: July 15, 1853. + + ... We have taken a villa at the Baths of Lucca, after a little holy +fear of the company there; but the scenery, the coolness, and the +convenience altogether prevail, and we have taken our villa for three +months or rather more, and go to it next week with a stiff resolve of +not calling nor being called upon. You remember perhaps that we were +there four years ago, just after the birth of our child. The mountains +are wonderful in beauty, and we mean to buy our holiday by doing some +work. + +Yesterday evening we had the American Minister at the Court of Turin +here, and it was delightful to hear him talk about Piedmont, its +progress in civilisation and the comprehension of liberty, and the +honesty and resolution of the King. It is the only hope of Italy, that +Piedmont! God prosper the hope. Besides this diplomatical dignitary and +his wife, we had two American gentlemen of more than average +intelligence, who related wonderful things of the 'spiritual +manifestations' (so called), incontestable things, inexplicable things. +You will have seen Faraday's letter.[24] I wish to reverence men of +science, but they often will not let me. If _I_ know certain facts on +this subject, Faraday _ought_ to have known them before he expressed an +opinion on it. His statement does not meet the facts of the case--it is +a statement which applies simply to various amateur operations without +touching on the essential phenomena, such as the moving of tables +untouched by a finger. + +Our visitor last night, to say nothing of other witnesses, has +repeatedly seen this done with his eyes--in private houses, for +instance, where there could be no machinery--and he himself and his +brother have held by the legs of a table to prevent the motion--the +medium sitting some yards away--and that table has been wrenched from +their grasp and lifted into the air. My husband's sister, who has +admirable sense and excessive scepticism on all matters of the kind, was +present the other day at the house of a friend of ours in Paris, where +an English young lady was medium, and where the table expressed itself +intelligently by knocking, with its leg, responses according to the +alphabet. For instance, the age of my child was asked, and the leg +knocked four times. Sarianna was 'not impressed,' she says, but, 'being +bound to speak the truth, she does not _think it possible that any trick +could have been used_.' To hear her say so was like hearing Mr. Chorley +say so; all her prejudices were against it strongly. Mr. Spicer's book +on the subject is flippant and a little vulgar, but the honesty and +accuracy of it have been attested to me by Americans oftener than once. +By the way, he speaks in it of your interesting 'Recollections,' and +quotes you upon the possibility of making a ghost story better by the +telling--in reference to Washington. + +Mr. Tennyson is going to England for a few months, so that our Florence +party is breaking up, you see. He has printed a few copies of his poems, +and is likely to publish them if he meets with encouragement in England, +I suppose. They are full of imagery, encompassed with poetical +atmosphere, and very melodious. On the other hand, there is vagueness +and too much personification. It's the smell of a rose rather than a +rose--very sweet, notwithstanding. His poems are far superior to Charles +Tennyson's, bear in mind. As for the poet, we quite love him, Robert and +I do. What Swedenborg calls 'selfhood,' the _proprium_, is not in him. + +Oh yes! I confess to loving Florence and to having associated with it +the idea of _home_. My child was born here, and here I have been very +happy and _well_. Yet we shall not live in Florence--we are steady to +our Paris plan. We must visit Rome next winter, and in the spring we +shall go to Paris _via_ London; you may rely on us for next summer. I +think it too probable that I may not be able to bear two successive +winters in the North; but in that case it will be easy to take a flight +for a few winter months into Italy, and we shall regard Paris, where +Robert's father and sister are waiting for us, as our fixed place of +residence. As to the distance between Paris and London, it's a mere step +now. We are to have war, I suppose. I would not believe it for a long +while, but the Czar seems to be struck with madness--mad in good +earnest. Under these circumstances I hope our Ministry will act with +decision and honesty--but I distrust Lord Aberdeen. There is evidently, +or has been, a division in the Cabinet, and perhaps Lord Palmerston is +not the strongest. Louis Napoleon has acted excellently in this +conjuncture--with integrity and boldness--don't you think so? Dear Mr. +Kenyon has his brother and sister with him, to his great joy. Robert +pretended he would not give me your last letter. Little Wiedeman threw +his arms round my neck (taking the play-cruelty for earnest) and +exclaimed, 'Never mind, mine darling Ba! You'll have it.' He always +calls me Ba at coaxing times. Such a darling that child is, indeed! + +God bless you! Do write soon and tell me in detail of yourself. + +Our united love, but mine the closest! + +Your ever most affectionate +E.B.B. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss I. Blagden_ + +Casa Tolomei, Alia Villa, Bagni di Lucca: +July 26, [1853]. + +I deserve another scold for this other silence, dearest Isa. Scold as +softly as you can! We have been in uncertainty about leaving +Florence--where to go for the summer--and I did not like to write till I +could tell you where to write to _me_. Now we are 'fixed,' as our +American friends would say. We have taken this house for three months--a +larger house than we need. We have a row of plane trees before the door +in which the cicale sing all day, and the beautiful mountains stand +close around, keeping us fresh with shadows. Penini thinks he is in +Eden--_at least he doesn't think otherwise_. We have a garden and an +arbour, and the fireflies light us up at nights. With all this, I am +sorry for Florence. Florence was horribly hot, and pleasant +notwithstanding. We hated cutting the knot of friends we had +there--bachelor friends, Isa, who came to us for coffee and smoking! I +was gracious and permitted the cigar (as you were not present), and +there were quantities of talk, controversy, and confidences evening +after evening. One of our very favourite friends, Frederick Tennyson, is +gone to England, or was to have gone, for three months. Mr. Lytton had a +reception on the terrace of his villa at Bellosguardo the evening before +our last in Florence, and we were all bachelors together there, and I +made tea, and we ate strawberries and cream and talked spiritualism +through one of the pleasantest two hours that I remember. Such a view! +Florence dissolving in the purple of the hills; and the stars looking +on. Mr. Tennyson was there, Mr. Powers, and M. Villari[25], an +accomplished Sicilian, besides our young host and ourselves. How we 'set +down' Faraday for his 'arrogant and insolent letter,' and what stories +we told, and what miracles we swore to! Oh, we are believers here, Isa, +except Robert, who persists in wearing a coat of respectable +scepticism--so considered--though it is much out of elbows and ragged +about the skirts. If I am right, you will none of you be able to +disbelieve much longer--a, new law, or a new development of law, is +making way everywhere. We have heard much--more than I can tell you in a +letter. Imposture is absolutely out of the question, to speak generally; +and unless you explain the phenomena by 'a personality unconsciously +projected' (which requires explanation of itself), you must admit the +spirit theory. As to the simpler forms of the manifestation (it is all +one manifestation), the 'turning-tables,' I was convinced long before +Faraday's letter that _many_ of the amateur performances were from +involuntary muscular action--but what then? These are only imitations of +actual phenomena. Faraday's letter does not meet the common fact of +tables being moved and lifted without the touch of a finger. It is a +most arrogant letter and singularly inconclusive. Tell me any facts you +may hear. Mr. Kinney, the American Minister at the Court of Turin, had +arrived at Florence a few days before we quitted it, and he and his wife +helped us to spend our last evening at Casa Guidi. He is cultivated and +high-minded. I like him much; and none the less that he brings hopeful +accounts of the state of Piedmont, of the progress of the people, and +good persistency of the King. It makes one's heart beat with the sense +that all is not over with our poor Italy. + +I am glad you like Frederick Tennyson's poems. They are full of +_atmospherical_ poetry, and very melodious. The poet is still better +than the poems--so truthful, so direct, such a reliable Christian man. +Robert and I quite love him. We very much appreciate, too, young Lytton, +your old friend. He is noble in many ways, I think, and affectionate. +Moreover, he has an incontestable _faculty_ in poetry, and I expect +great things from him as he ripens into life and experience. Meanwhile +he has just privately printed a drama called 'Clytemnestra,' too +ambitious because after AEschylus, but full of promise indeed. We are +hoping that he will come down and see us in the course of our +rustication at the Baths, and occupy our spare bedroom.... + +As to Mr. ----, his Hebrew was Chinese to _you_, do you say? But, dear, +he is strong in veritable Chinese besides! And one evening he nearly +assassinated me with the analysis, chapter by chapter, of a Japanese +novel. Mr. Lytton, who happened to be a witness, swore that I grew +paler and paler, and not with sympathy for the heroine. He is a +miraculously vain man--which rather amused me--and, for the rest, is +full of information--yes, and of kindness, I think. He gave me a little +black profile of you which gives the air of your head, and is so far +valuable to me. As to myself, indeed, he has rather flattered me than +otherwise--I don't complain, I assure you. How could I complain of a man +who compares me to Isaiah, under any circumstances?... + +God bless you! Robert's love with that of + +Your ever affectionate and faithful +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mr. Chorley_ + +Casa Tolomei (Alia Villa), Bagni di Lucca: +August 10, [1853]. + +My dear Mr. Chorley,--I can't bear that you should intimate by half a +word that you are 'a creature to be eaten'--viz. not to have your share +in friendship and confidence. Now, if you fancy that we, for instance, +don't affectionately regard you, you are very wrong, and I am very right +for feeling inclined to upbraid you. I take the pen from Robert--he +would take it if I did not. We scramble a little for the pen which is to +tell you this--which is to say it again and again, and be dull in the +reiteration, rather than not instruct you properly, as we teach our +child to do--D O G, dog; D O G, dog; D O G, dog. Says Robert, 'What a +slow business!' Yet he's a quick child; and you too must be quick and +comprehending, or we shall take it to heart sadly. Often I think, and we +say to one another, that we belied ourselves to you in England. If you +knew how, at that time, Robert was vexed and worn!--why, he was not the +same even to _me_! He seemed to himself to be slipping out of waistcoats +and friends at once--so worn and teased he was! But then and now believe +that he loved and loves you. Set him down as a friend--as somebody to +'rest on' after all; and don't fancy that because we are away here in +the wilderness (which blossoms as a rose, to one of us at least) we may +not be full of affectionate thoughts and feelings towards you in your +different sort of life in London. So sorry we are--I especially, for I +think I understand the grief especially--about the household troubles +which you hint at and Mr. Kenyon gave us a key to. I quite understand +how a whole life may seem rumpled up and creased--torn for the moment; +only you will live it smooth again, dear Mr. Chorley--take courage. You +have time and strength and good aims, and human beings have been happy +with much less. I understate your advantages on purpose, you see. I +heard you talked of in Florence when Miss Cushman, in the quarter of an +hour she gave us at Casa Guidi, told us of the oath she had in heaven to +bring out your play and make it a triumph. How she praised the play, and +you! Twice I have spoken with her--once on a balcony on the boulevard, +when together we saw Louis Napoleon enter Paris in immediate face of the +empire, and that once in Florence. I like the 'manly soul' in her face +and manners. Manly, not masculine--an excellent distinction of Mrs. +Jameson's. By the way, we hear wonderful things of the portrait painted +of Miss Cushman at Rome by Mr. Page the artist, called 'the American +Titian' by the Americans.... + +There I stop, not to 'fret' you beyond measure. Besides, now that you +Czars of the 'Athenaeum' have set your Faradays on us, ukase and knout, +what Pole, in the deepest of the brain, would dare to have a thought on +the subject? Now that Professor Faraday has 'condescended,' as the +'Literary Gazette' affectingly puts it (and the condescension is +sufficiently obvious in the letter--'how we stoop!')--now that Professor +Faraday has condescended to explain the whole question--which had +offered some difficulty, it is admitted, to 'hundreds of intelligent +men, including five or six eminent men of science,' in Paris, and, we +may add, to thousands of unintelligent men elsewhere, including the +eminent correspondent of the 'Literary Gazette'--let us all be silent +for evermore. For my part, I won't say that Lord Bacon would have +explained any question to a child even without feeling it to be an act +of condescension. I won't hint under my breath that Lord Bacon +reverenced every _fact_ as a footstep of Deity, and stooped to pick up +every rough, ungainly stone of a fact, though it were likely to tear and +deform the smooth wallet of a theory. I, for my part, belong, you know, +not to the 'eminent men of science,' nor even to the 'intelligent men,' +but simply to the women, children (and poets?), and if we happen to see +with our eyes a table lifted from the floor without the touch of a +finger or foot, let no dog of us bark--much less a puppy-dog! The famous +letter holds us gagged. What it does not hold is the facts; but, _en +revanche_, the writer and his abettors know the secret of being +invincible--which is, not to fight. My child proposed a donkey-race +yesterday, the condition being that he should ride first. Somebody, told +me once that when Miss Martineau has spoken eloquently on one side of a +question, she drops her ear-trumpet to give the opportunity to her +adversary. Most controversies, to do justice to the world, are conducted +on the same plan and terms. + +What I do venture however to say is that it's _not_ all over in Paris +because of Faraday's letter. _Ask Lamartine._ What I hear and what the +'Literary Gazette' hears from Paris is by no means the same thing. I +hear Hebrew while the 'Gazette' hears Dutch--a miracle befitting the +subject, or what was once considered to be the subject (I beg Professor +Faraday's pardon), before it was annihilated. + +How pert women can be, can't they, Mr. Chorley? particularly when they +are safe among the mountains, shut in with a row of seven plane-trees +joined at top. I won't go on to offer myself as 'spiritual correspondent +to the "Athenaeum,"' though I have a modest conviction that it might +increase your sale considerably. Ah, tread us down! put us out! You will +have some trouble with us yet. The opposition Czar of St. Petersburg +supports us, be it known, and Louis Napoleon comes to us for oracles. +The King of Holland is going mad gently in our favour--quite absorbed, +says an informant. But I won't quote kings. It is giving oneself too +great a disadvantage. + +We stayed in Florence till it was oven-heat, and then we came here, +where it was fire-heat for a short time, though with cool nights +comparatively, by means of which we lived, comparatively too. Now it is +cool by day and night. You know these beautiful hills, the green rushing +river which keeps them apart, the chestnut woods, the sheep-walks and +goat-walks, the villages on the peaks of the mountains like wild eagles; +the fresh, unworn, uncivilised, world-before-the-flood look of +everything? If you don't know it, you ought to know it. Come and know +it--do! We have a spare bedroom which opens its door of itself at the +thought of you, and if you can trust yourself so far from home, try for +our sakes. Come and look in our faces and learn us more by heart, and +see whether we are not two friends. I am so very sorry for your +increased anxiety about your sister. I scarcely know how to cheer you, +or, rather, to attempt such a thing, but it did strike me that she was +full of life when I saw her. It may be better with her than your fears, +after all. If you would come to us, you would be here in two hours from +Leghorn; and there's a telegraph at Leghorn--at Florence. Think of it, +do. The Storys are at the top of the hill; you know Mr. and Mrs. Story. +She and I go backward and forward on donkeyback to tea-drinking and +gossiping at one another's houses, and our husbands hold the reins. Also +Robert and I make excursions, he walking as slowly as he can to keep up +with my donkey. When the donkey trots we are more equal. The other day +we were walking, and I, attracted by a picturesque sort of ladder-bridge +of loose planks thrown across the river, ventured on it, without +thinking of venturing. Robert held my hand. When we were in the middle +the bridge swayed, rocked backwards and forwards, and it was difficult +for either of us to keep footing. A gallant colonel who was following us +went down upon his hands and knees and crept. In the meantime a peasant +was assuring our admiring friends that the river was deep at that spot, +and that four persons had been lost from the bridge. I was so sick with +fright that I could scarcely stand when all was over, never having +contemplated an heroic act. 'Why, what a courageous creature you are!' +said our friends. So reputations are made, Mr. Chorley. + +Yes, we are doing a little work, both of us. Robert is working at a +volume of lyrics, of which I have seen but a few, and those seemed to me +as fine as anything he has done. We neither of us show our work to one +another till it is finished. An artist must, I fancy, either find or +_make_ a solitude to work in, if it is to be good work at all. This for +the consolation of bachelors! + +I am glad you like Mr. Powers's paper. You would have 'fretted' me +terribly if you had not, for I liked it myself, knowing it to be an +earnest opinion and expressive of the man. I had a very interesting +letter from him the other day. He is devout in his art, and the simplest +of men otherwise.... + +Now, I will ask you to write to us. It is _you_ who give us up, indeed. +Will your sister accept our true regards and sympathies? I shall persist +in hoping to see her a little stronger next spring--or summer, rather. +May God bless you! I will set myself down, and Robert with me, as + +Faithfully and affectionately yours, +ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +Casa Tolomei, Alia Villa, Bagni di Lucca: +August 20 and 21, 1853. + + ... We are enjoying the mountains here, riding the donkeys in the +footsteps of the sheep, and eating strawberries and milk by basins full. +The strawberries succeed one another, generation after generation, +throughout the summer, through growing on different aspects of the +hills. If a tree is felled in the forests strawberries spring up just as +mushrooms might, and the peasants sell them for just nothing. Our little +Penini is wild with happiness; he asks in his prayers that God would +'mate him dood and tate him on a dontey,' (make him good and take him on +a donkey), so resuming all aspiration for spiritual and worldly +prosperity. Then our friends, Mr. and Mrs. Story, help the mountains to +please us a good deal. He is the son of Judge Story, the biographer of +his father, and, for himself, sculptor and poet; and she a sympathetic, +graceful woman, fresh and innocent in face and thought. We go backwards +and forwards to tea and talk at one another's houses. Last night they +were our visitors, and your name came in among the Household Gods to +make us as agreeable as might be. We were considering your expectations +about Mr. Hawthorne. 'All right,' says Mr. Story, '_except the rare half +hours_' (of eloquence). He represents Mr. Hawthorne as not silent only +by shyness, but by nature and inaptitude. He is a man, it seems, who +talks wholly and exclusively with the pen, and who does not open out +socially with his most intimate friends any more than with strangers. It +isn't his _way_ to converse. That has been a characteristic of some men +of genius before him, you know, but you will be nevertheless +disappointed, very surely. Also, Mr. Story does not imagine that you +will get anything from him on the subject of the 'manifestations.' You +have read the 'Blithedale Romance,' and are aware of his opinion +expressed there? He evidently recognised them as a sort of scurvy +spirits, good to be slighted, because of their disreputableness. By the +way, I heard read the other day a very interesting letter from Paris, +from Mr. Appleton, Longfellow's brother-in-law, who is said to be a man +of considerable ability, and who is giving himself wholly just now to +the investigation of this spirit-subject, termed by him the 'sublimest +conundrum ever given to the world for guessing.' He appears still in +doubt whether the intelligence is external, or whether the phenomena are +not produced by an _unconscious projection in the medium of a second +personality, accompanied with clairvoyance, and attended by physical +manifestations_. This seems to me to double the difficulty; yet the idea +is entertained as a doubtful sort of hypothesis by such men as Sir +Edward Lytton and others. _Imposture_ is absolutely out of the question, +be certain, as an ultimate solution, and a greater proof of credulity +can scarcely be given than a belief in imposture as things are at +present. But I was going to tell you Mr. Appleton has a young American +friend in Paris, who, 'besides being a very sweet girl,' says he, 'is a +strong medium.' By Lamartine's desire he took her to the poet's house; +'all the phenomena were reproduced, and everybody present convinced,' +Lamartine himself 'in ecstasies.' Among other spirits came Henry Clay, +who said, 'J'aime Lamartine.' We shall have it in the next volume of +biography. Louis Napoleon gets oracles from the 'raps,' and it is said +that the Czar does the same,--your Emperor, certainly,--and the King of +Holland is allowing the subject to absorb him. 'Dying out! dying out!' +Our accounts from New York are very different, but unbelieving persons +are apt to stop their ears and exclaim, 'We hear nothing now.' On one +occasion the Hebrew Professor at New York was addressed in Hebrew to his +astonishment. + +Well, I don't believe, with all my credulity, in poets being perfected +at universities. What can be more absurd than this proposition of +'finishing' Alexander Smith at Oxford or Cambridge? We don't know how to +deal with literary genius in England, certainly. We are apt to treat +poets (when we condescend to treat them at all) as over-masculine papas +do babies; and Monckton Milnes was accused of only touching his in order +to poke out its eyes, for instance. Why not put this new poet in a +public library? There are such situations even among us, and something +of the kind was done for Patmore. The very judgment Tennyson gave of +him, _in the very words_, we had given here--'fancy, not imagination.' +Also, imagery in excess; thought in deficiency. Still, the new poet is a +true poet, and the defects obvious in him may be summed up in _youth_ +simply. Let us wait and see. I have read him only in extracts, such as +the reviews give, and such as a friend helped me to by good-natured MS. +It is extraordinary to me that with his amount of development, as far as +I understand it, he has met with so much rapid recognition. Tell me if +you have read 'Queechy,' the American book--novel--by Elizabeth +Wetherell? I think it very clever and characteristic. Mrs. Beecher Stowe +scarcely exceeds it, after all the trumpets. We are about to have a +visit from Mr. Lytton, Sir Edward's only son--only child now. Did I tell +you that he was a poet--yes, and of an unquestionable faculty? I expect +much from him one day, when he shakes himself clear of the poetical +influences of the age, which he will have strength to do presently. He +thinks as well as sees, and that is good.... + +Oh yes! I like Mr. Kingsley. I am glad he spoke kindly of _us_, because +really I like him and admire him. Few people have struck me as much as +he did last year in England. 'Manly,' do you say? But I am not very fond +of praising men by calling them _manly_. I hate and detest a masculine +man. _Humanly_ bold, brave, true, direct, Mr. Kingsley is--a moral +cordiality and an original intellect uniting in him. I did not see +_her_ and the children, but I hope we shall be in better fortune next +time. + +Since I began this letter the Storys and ourselves have had a grand +donkey-excursion to a village called Benabbia, and the cross above it on +the mountain-peak. We returned in the dark, and were in some danger of +tumbling down various precipices; but the scenery was exquisite--past +speaking of for beauty. Oh those jagged mountains, rolled together like +pre-Adamite beasts, and setting their teeth against the sky! It was +wonderful. You may as well guess at a lion by a lady's lapdog as at +Nature by what you see in England. All honour to England, lanes and +meadowland, notwithstanding; to the great trees above all. Will you +write to me sooner? Will you give me the details of yourself? Will you +love me? + +Your most affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss E.F. Haworth_ + +Casa Tolomei, Alia Villa, Bagni di Lucca: +August 30, [1853]. + +Dearest Fanny,--On your principle that 'there's too much to say,' I +ought not to think of writing to you these three months; you have +pleased me and made me grateful to such an extremity by your most pretty +and graceful illustrative outlines. The death-bed I admire particularly; +the attitudes are very expressive, and the open window helps the +sentiment. What am I to say for your kindness in holding a torch of this +kind (perfumed for the 'nobilities') between the wind and my poems? +Thank you, thank you. And when that's said, I ought to stop short and +beg you, dear Fanny, not to waste yourself in more labour of this kind, +seeing that I am accursed and that nothing is to be done with my books +and me, as far as my public is concerned. Why not get up a book of your +own, a collection of 'outlines' illustrative of everybody's poems, which +would stand well on its own feet and make a circle for itself? Think of +_that_ rather. For my part, there's nothing to be done with me, as I +said; that is, there's nothing to be done with my publishers, who just +do as they like with my books, and don't like to do much good for _me_ +with them, whatever they may do for themselves. I am misanthropical in +respect to the booksellers. They manage one as they please, and not at +all to please one. I have no more to say to the fate of my books than +you have--and not much more to pocket. This third edition, for instance, +which should have been out four or five months ago, they are keeping, I +suppose, for the millennium, encouraged probably by the spiritual +manifestations; and _my_ personal manifestations meanwhile have as much +weight with them as facts have with Faraday, or the theory of fair play +with the London 'Athenaeum.' I am sick of it all, indeed. I look down on +it all as the epicurean gods do on the world without putting out a +finger to save an empire; perhaps because they can't. Long live the +----, who are kings of us. It's the best thing possible, I conclude, in +this best of possible social economies, though for ourselves +individually it may not be a very good thing; not precisely what we +should choose. Think of the separate book of outlines. Seriously, Robert +and I recommend you to consider it. You might make a book for +drawing-room tables which would be generally acceptable if not too +expensive. And Mr. Spicer is bringing me more? How kind of you. And when +is he coming? Scarcely could anyone come as a stranger whom I desire +more to see, and I do hope he will bring me facts and fantasies too on +the great subject which is interesting me so deeply. His book of 'Sights +and Sounds' we have read, but the new book has not penetrated to us. +'Sights and Sounds' is very curious, and the authenticity of its facts +has been confirmed to me by various testimonies, but the author is too +clever for his position; I mean too full of flash and wit. There's an +air of levity, and of effective writing, without which the book would +have been more impressive and convincing; don't you think so? And here +we get to the heart of most of the difficulties of the subject. Why do +we make no quicker advances, do you say? Why are our communications +chiefly trivial? Why, but because we ourselves are trivial, and don't +bring serious souls and concentrated attentions and holy aspirations to +the spirits who are waiting for these things? Spirit comes to spirit by +affinity, says Swedenborg; but our cousinship is not with the high and +noble. We try experiments from curiosity, just as children play with the +loadstone; our ducks swim, but they don't get beyond that, and _won't_, +unless we do better. _To_ prove what I say, consider what you say +yourself, that you couldn't manage to draw the same persons together +again (these very persons being persuaded of the verity of the spiritual +communications they were in reach of) on account of the difficulties of +the London season. Difficulties of the London season! The inconsequence +of human nature is more wonderful to me than the ingress of any spirits +could be. This instance is scarcely credible.... + +I had a letter the other day from Mr. Chorley, and he was chivalrous +enough (I call it real chivalry in his state of opinion) to deliver to +me a message from Mr. Westland Marston, whom he met at Folkestone, and +who kindly proposes to write a full account to me of his own spiritual +experiences, having heard from you that they were likely to interest me; +I mean that I was interested in the whole subject. Will you tell him +from me that I shall be most thankful for anything he will vouchsafe to +write to me, and will you give him my address? I don't know where to +find him, and Mr. Chorley is on the Continent wandering. I have seen +nothing for myself, but I am a believer upon testimony; and a stream of +Americans running through Florence, and generally making way to us, the +testimony has been various and strong. Interested in the subject! Who +can be uninterested in the subject? Even Robert is interested, who +professes to be a sceptic, an infidel indeed (though I can swear to +having seen him considerably shaken more than once), and who promises +never to believe till he has experience by his own senses. Isn't it hard +on me that I can't draw a spirit into our circle and convince him? He +would give much, he says, to find it true.... + +Here an end. Write soon and write much. + +Your ever affectionate +E.B.B. (called BA). + +Our child was gathering box leaves in a hedge the other day (wherever we +have a hedge, it's box, I would have you to understand), and pulled a +yellow flower by mistake. Down he flung it as if it stung him. 'Ah, +brutto! Colore Tedesco!' Think of that baby! + + * * * * * + + +_To Mr. Westwood_ + +Casa Tolomei, Alia Villa, Bagni di Lucca: +September [1853]. + +As to Patmore's new volume of poems, my husband and I had the pleasure +of reading in MS. the poem which gives its title to the book. He has a +great deal of thought and poetry in him. Alexander Smith I know by +copious extracts in reviews, and by some MSS. once sent to us by friends +and readers. Judging from those he must be set down as a true poet in +opulence of imagery, but defective, so far (he is said to be very young) +in the intellectual part of poetry. His images are flowers thrown to him +by the gods, beautiful and fragrant, but having no root either in Enna +or Olympus. There's no unity and holding together, no reality properly +so called, no thinking of any kind. I hear that Alfred Tennyson says of +him: 'He has fancy without imagination.' Still, it is difficult to say +at the dawn what may be written at noon. Certainly he is very rich and +full of colour; nothing is more surprising to me than his favourable +reception with the critics. I should have thought that his very merits +would be against him. + +If you can read novels, and you have too much sense not to be fond of +them, read 'Villette.' The scene of the greater part of it is in +Belgium, and I think it a strong book. 'Ruth,' too, by Mrs. Gaskell, the +author of 'Mary Barton,' has pleased me very much. Do you know the +French novels? there's passion and power for you, if you like such +things. Balzac convinced me that the French language was malleable into +poetry. We are behindhand here in books, and elderly ones seem young to +us. For instance, we have not caught sight yet of 'Moore's Life,' the +extracts from which are unpropitious, I think. I had a fancy, I cannot +tell you how it grew, that Moore, though an artificial, therefore +inferior, poet, was a most brilliant letter-writer. His letters are +disappointing, and his mean clinging to the aristocracy still more so. + +I wish you could suddenly walk into this valley, which seems to have +been made by the flashing scimitar of the river that cuts through the +mountain. Ah! you in England, and in Belgium still less, do not know +what scenery is, what Nature is when she is natural. You could as soon +guess at a tiger from the cat on the hearthstone. You do not know; but, +being a poet, you can dream. You have divine insights, as we all have, +of heaven, all of us with whom the mortal mind does not cake and +obstruct into cecity. No, no, no. I protest against anything I have not +reprinted. The Prometheus poems bear the mark of their time, which was +one of greenness and immaturity. Indeed, the responsibility for what I +_acknowledge_ in print is hard enough to bear. Don't put another stick +on the overloaded--_ass_, shall I say candidly? + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +Bagni di Lucca: October 5, [1853]. + +My dearest Mrs. Martin, I am delighted to have your letter at last, and +should have come upon you like a storm in a day or two if you hadn't +written, for really I began to be low in patience. Also, after having +spent the summer here, we were about to turn our faces to Florence +again, and it was necessary to my own satisfaction to let you know of +our plans for the winter. To begin with those, then, we go to Florence, +as I said, from hence, and after a week or two, or three or four as it +may be, the briefer time if we let our house, we proceed to Rome for +some months. You see we _must_ visit Rome before we go northwards, and +northwards we _must_ go in the spring, so that the logic of events seems +to secure Rome to us this time; otherwise I should still doubt of our +going there, so often have we been on the verge and caught back.... + +So you think that he[26] is looking 'less young than formerly,' and that +'we should all learn to hear and make such remarks with equanimity.' +Now, once for all, let me tell you--confess to you--I never, if I live +to be a hundred, should learn that learning. Death has the luminous side +when we know how to look; but the rust of time, the touch of age, is +hideous and revolting to me, and I never see it, by even a line's +breadth, in the face of any I love, without pain and recoil of nature. I +have a worse than womanly weakness about that class of subjects. Death +is a face-to-face intimacy; age, a thickening of the mortal mask between +souls. So I hate it; put it far from me. Why talk of age, when it's just +an appearance, an accident, when we are all young in soul and heart? We +don't say, one to another, 'You are freckled in the forehead to-day,' or +'There's a yellow shade in your complexion.' Leave those disagreeable +trifles. I, for my part, never felt younger. Did _you_, I wonder? To be +sure not. Also, I have a gift in my eyes, I think, for scarcely ever +does it strike me that anybody is altered, except my child, for +instance, who certainly is larger than when he was born. When I went to +England after five years' absence, everybody (save one) appeared to me +younger than I was used to conceive of them, and of course I took for +granted that I appeared to them in the same light. Be sure that it is +highly moral to be young as long as possible. Women who throw up the +game early (or even late) and wear dresses 'suitable to their years' +(that is, as hideous as possible), are a disgrace to their sex, aren't +they now? And women and men with statistical memories, who are always +quoting centuries and the years thereof ('Do you remember in '20?' _As +if anybody could_), are the pests of society. And, in short, and for my +part, whatever honours of authorship may ever befall me, I hope I may be +safe from the epithet which distinguishes the Venerable Bede. + +Now, if I had written this from Paris, you would have cried out upon the +frivolity I had picked up. Who would imagine that I had just finished a +summer of mountain solitude, succeeding a winter's meditation on +Swedenborg's philosophy, and that such fruit was of it all? By the way, +tell me how it was that Paris did harm to Moore? Mentally, was it, and +morally, or in the matter of the body? I have not seen the biography +yet. Italy keeps us behind in new books. But the extracts given in +newspapers displease me through the ignoble tone of 'doing honour to the +lord,' which is anything but religious. Also, the letters seem somewhat +less brilliant than I expected from Moore; but it must be, after all, a +most entertaining book. Tell me if you have read Mrs. Gaskell's 'Ruth.' +That's a novel which I much admire. It is strong and healthy at once, +teaching a moral frightfully wanted in English society. Such an +interesting letter I had from Mrs. Gaskell a few days ago simple, worthy +of 'Ruth.' By the way, 'Ruth' is a great advance on 'Mary Barton,' +don't you think so? 'Villette,' too (Jane Eyre's), is very powerful. + +Since we have been here we have had for a visitor (drawing the advantage +from our spare room) Mr. Lytton, Sir Edward's only son, who is attache +at the Florence Legation at this time. He lost nothing from the test of +house-intimacy with either of us--gained, in fact, much. Full of all +sorts of good and nobleness he really is, and gifted with high faculties +and given to the highest aspirations--not vulgar ambitions, +understand--he will never be a great diplomatist, nor fancy himself an +inch taller for being master of Knebworth.[27] Then he is somewhat +dreamy and unpractical, we must confess; he won't do for drawing carts +under any sort of discipline. Such a summer we have enjoyed here, free +from burning heats and mosquitos--the two drawbacks of Italy--and in the +heart of the most enchanting scenery. Mountains not too grand for +exquisite verdure, and just kept from touching by the silver finger of a +stream. I have been donkey-riding, and so has Wiedeman. I even went (to +prove to you how well I am) the great excursion to Prato Fiorito, six +miles there and six miles back, perpendicularly up and down. Oh, it +almost slew me of course! I could not stir for days after. But who +wouldn't see heaven and die? Such a vision of divine scenery, such as, +in England, the best dreamers do not dream of! As we came near home I +said to Mr. Lytton, who was on horseback, 'I am dying. How are you?' To +which he answered, 'I thought a quarter of an hour ago I could not keep +up to the end, but now I feel better.' This from a young man just +one-and-twenty! He is delicate, to be sure, but still you may imagine +that the day's work was not commonly fatiguing. The guides had to lead +the horses and donkeys. It was like going up and down a wall, without +the smoothness. No road except in the beds of torrents. Robert +pretended to be not tired, but, of course (as sensible people say of the +turning tables), nobody believed a word of it. It was altogether a +supernatural pretension, and very impertinent in these enlightened days. + +Mr. and Mrs. Story were of our party. He is the son of Judge Story and +full of all sorts of various talent. And she is one of those cultivated +and graceful American women who take away the reproach of the national +want of refinement. We have seen much of them throughout the summer. +There has been a close communion of tea-drinking between the houses, and +as we are all going to Rome together, this pleasure is not a past +one.... + +We still point to Paris. Ah! you disapprove of Paris, I see, but we must +try the experiment. What I am afraid of is simply the climate. I doubt +whether I shall stand two winters running as far north as Paris, but if +I _can't_, we must come south again. Then I love Italy. Oh! if it were +not for the distance between Italy and England, we should definitively +settle here at once. We shall be in England, by the way, next summer for +pleasure and business, having, or about to have, two books to see +through the press. Not _prose_, Mr. Martin. I'm lost--devoted to the +infernal gods of rhyming. 'It's my fate,' as a popular poet said when +going to be married.... + +(We go on Monday. Write to Florence for the next month.) + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +[Florence: autumn, 1853.] + +My dearest Sarianna,--I shall not be able to write very much to-day, for +Robert is in haste, and we are both overwhelmed with different +engagements, the worst of which have been forced on me _maritally_ +rather than artistically by the portrait-sittings he of course has told +you of. His own portrait, by Mr. Reade, I must be glad about, seeing +that though it by no means gives his best expression, the face is +_there_, and it will be the best work extant on the same subject. I only +wish that the artist had been satisfied with it, or taken my Penini in +the second place instead of me, who am not wanted in canvas for art's +sake, or for any other sake in the world. When gone from hence, may +nobody think of me again, except when one or two may think perhaps how I +loved them.... + +Do you think much of the war? I hope all will be done on the part of the +two western Powers honestly and directly; and then, may the best that +can, come out of the worst that must be. The poor Italians catch like +men in an agony at all these floating straws. We hear that the new +Austrian Commandant has received instructions to hold no intercourse +with members of the English and French Legations till further orders are +received. + +We have lived a disturbed life lately; too much coming and going even +with agreeable people. There has been no time for work. In Rome it must +be different, or we shall get on poorly with our books, I think. Robert +seems, however, by his account, to be in an advanced state already.... + +[_Incomplete._] + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss I. Blagden_ + +Casa Guidi: Saturday [about October, 1853]. + +My dearest Isa,-- ... I was very sorry on returning from Lucca to find +only Mr. Thompson's note and yours; but though we missed him at Florence +we shall see him at Rome, I hope. There was also a card from Miss +Lynch,[28] an American poetess (one of the ninety-and-nine muses), with +a note of introduction from England. Do you hear of her at Rome? The +'Ninth Street' printed on her card leaves me in the infinite as far as +conjectures of where she is go. + +So pleased I am to get back to Florence, and so little inclined to +tumble out of my nest again; yet we _shall go to Rome_ if some new +obstacle does not arise. We have had no glimpse of the Tassinaris; they +seem to have vanished from the scene. Florence is full of great people, +so called, from England, and the _real sommites_ are coming, such as +Alfred Tennyson, and, with an interval, Dickens and Thackeray. The two +latter go to Rome for the winter, I understand. + +Do you say _Edward Lytton_? But he isn't Edward Lytton now--he is +Robert. The two Edwards clashed inconveniently, and now he doesn't sign +an Edward even by an initial; he has renounced the name, and is a Robert +for evermore. I am glad to tell you that although he is delicate and +excitable there seems to me no tendency to disease of any kind. Indeed, +he is looking particularly well just now. He is full of sensibility, +both intellectually and morally, which is scarcely favorable to health +and long life; but in the long run, if people can run, they get over +such a disadvantage. At this time he is about to publish a collection of +poems. I think highly of his capabilities; and he is a great favorite +with both of us for various excellent reasons. Did I tell you of his +passing a fortnight with us at Lucca, and how sorry we were to lose him +at last? Sir Edward either has just brought out, or is bringing out, a +volume of poems of his own, called 'Cornflowers' (referring to the +harvest time of maturity in which he produces them), and chiefly of a +metaphysical character. His son, who has seen the manuscript, thinks +them the best of his poems. 'My Novel' is certainly excellent. Did I +tell you that I had seized and read it? + +I shall get at Swedenborg in Rome, and get on with my readings. There +are deep truths in him, I cannot doubt, though I can't receive +_everything_, which may be my fault. I would fain speak with a wise +humility. We will talk on these things and the spirits. How that last +subject attracts me! It strikes me that we are on the verge of great +developments of the spiritual nature, and that in a philosophical point +of view (apart from ulterior ends) the facts are worthy of all +admiration and meditation. If a spiritual influx, it is _mixed_--good +and evil together. The fact of there being a mixture of evil justifies +Swedenborg's philosophy (does it not?) without concluding against the +movement generally. We were at the Pergola the other night, and heard +the 'Trovatore,' Verdi's new work. Very passionate and dramatic, surely. +The Storys are here on their way back to Rome. Oh, I mean to convert +you, Isa! Is it true that the fever at Rome is still raging? Give my +love to your dear invalid, who must be comforting you so much with her +improvement. Penini is in a chronic state of packing up his desk to go +to '_Bome_.' Robert's love with mine as ever. I can't write either +legibly or otherwise than stupidly on this detestable paper, having +never learnt to skate. Are we giving you too much trouble, dearest, kind +Isa? + +Your affectionate friend +E.B.B. + + * * * * * + + +After a few weeks only at Florence the Brownings moved on to Rome and +there (at No. 43 Via Bocca di Leone) they passed the winter. Both were +now actively engaged on their new volumes of poetry--Mr. Browning on his +'Men and Women,' Mrs. Browning on 'Aurora Leigh,' both of which were, +however, still far from completion. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +Via Bocca di Leone, Rome: December 21, 1853. + +My dearest Mona Nina,--I have been longer than I thought to be in Rome +without writing to you, especially when I have a letter of yours for +which to thank you. My fancy was to wait till I had seen Gerardine in +her own home, and then to write to you, but I have called on her three +times, and the three Fates have been at it each time to prevent my +getting in. Still, we have met _here_, and I would rather not wait any +longer for whatever might be added to what I have seen and know +already.... + +Ah, dearest friend! you have heard how our first step into Rome was a +fall, not into a catacomb but a fresh grave[29], and how everything here +has been slurred and blurred to us, and distorted from the grand antique +associations. I protest to you I doubt whether I shall get over it, and +whether I ever shall feel that this is Rome. The first day at the bed's +head of that convulsed and dying child; and the next two, three, four +weeks in great anxiety about his little sister, who was all but given up +by the physicians; the English nurse horribly ill of the same fever, and +another case in this house. It was not only sympathy. I was selfishly +and intensely frightened for my own treasures; I wished myself at the +end of the world with Robert and Penini twenty times a day. Rome has +been very peculiarly unhealthy; and I heard a Monsignore observe the +other morning that there would not be much truce to the fever till March +came. Still, I begin to take breath again and be reasonable. Penini's +cheeks are red as apples, and if we avoid the sun, and the wind, and the +damp, and, above all if God takes care of us, we shall do excellently. +_I_, of course, am in a flourishing condition; walk out nearly every day +and scarcely cough at all. Which isn't enough for me, you see. Dear +friend, we have not set foot in the Vatican. Oh, barbarians! + +But we have seen Mrs. Kemble, and I am as enchanted as I ought to be, +and even, perhaps, a little more. She has been very kind and gracious to +me; she was to have spent an evening with us three days since, but +something intervened. I am much impressed by her as well as attracted to +her. What a voice, what eyes, what eyelids full of utterance! + +Then we have had various visits from Mr. Thackeray and his daughters. +'She writes to me of Thackeray instead of Raffael, and she is at Rome'! +But she _isn't_ at Rome. There's the sadness of it. We got to Gibson's +studio, which is close by, and saw his coloured Venus. I don't like her. +She has come out of her cloud of the ideal, and to my eyes is not too +decent. Then in the long and slender throat, in the turn of it, and the +setting on of the head, you have rather a grisette than a goddess. 'Tis +over pretty and _petite_, the colour adding, of course, to this effect. +Crawford's studio (the American sculptor) was far more interesting to me +than Gibson's. By the way, Mr. Page's portrait of Miss Cushman is really +something wonderful--soul and body together. You can show nothing like +it in England, take for granted. Indeed, the American artists consider +themselves a little aggrieved when you call it as good as a Titian. +'_Did_ Titian ever produce anything like it?' said an admirer in my +hearing. Critics wonder whether the colour will _stand_. It is a theory +of this artist that time does not _tone_, and that Titian's pictures +were painted as we see them. The consequence of which is that his +(Page's) pictures are undertoned in the first instance, and if they +change at all will turn black[30]. May all Boston rather turn black, +which it may do one of these days by an eruption from the South, when +'Uncle Tomison' gets strong enough. + +We have been to St. Peter's; we have stood in the Forum and seen the +Coliseum. Penini says: 'The sun has tome out. I think God knows I want +to go out to walk, and _so_ He has sent the sun out.' There's a child +who has faith enough to put us all to shame. A vision of angels wouldn't +startle him in the least. When his poor little friend died, and we had +to tell him, he inquired, fixing on me those earnest blue eyes, 'Did +papa _see_ the angels when they took away Joe?' And when I answered 'No' +(for I never try to deceive him by picturesque fictions, I should not +dare, I tell him simply what I believe myself), 'Then did Joe _go up_ by +himself?' In a moment there was a burst of cries and sobs. The other day +he asked me if I thought _Joe had seen the Dute of Wellyton_. He has a +medal of the Duke of Wellington, which put the name into his head. +By-the-bye, Robert yesterday, in a burst of national vanity, informed +the child that this was the man who beat Napoleon. 'Then I sint he a +velly naughty man. What! he beat Napoleon _wiz a stit_?' (with a stick). +Imagine how I laughed, and how Robert himself couldn't help laughing. +So, the seraphs judge our glories! + +If you have seen Sir David Brewster lately I should like to know whether +he has had more experience concerning the tables, and has modified his +conclusions in any respect. I myself am convinced as I can be of any +fact, that there is an _external intelligence_; the little I have seen +is conclusive to me. And this makes me more anxious that the subject +should be examined with common fairness by learned persons. Only the +learned won't learn--that's the worst of them. Their hands are too full +to gather simples. It seems to me a new development of law in the human +constitution, which has worked before in exceptional cases, but now +works in general. + +Dearest friend, I do not speak of your own anxious watch and tender +grief, but think of them deeply. Believe that I love you always and in +all truth. + +Your +E.B.B. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss E.F. Haworth_ + +[Rome:] 43 Bocca di Leone: December 27, [1853]. + +My dearest Fanny,--I can't judge of your 'obstacles,' of course, but as +to your being snowed up on the road or otherwise impeded between Rome +and Civita (Castellana or Vecchia), there's certainly not room for even +a dream of it. There has been beautiful weather here ever since we came, +except for exacting invalids. I, for instance, have been kept in the +house for a fortnight or more (till Christmas Day, when I was able to +get to St. Peter's) by tramontana; but there has been sun on _most_ days +of cold, and nothing has been _severe_ as cold. The hard weather came in +November, before we arrived. I was out yesterday, and may be to-day, +perhaps. 'Judge ye!'... + +You bid me write. But to what end, if you are here on New Year's Day? +There's not time for a letter. + +And at first I intended not to write, till beginning to consider how, as +you are not actually of the race of Medes and Persians, you might +possibly so modify your plans as to be able to receive these lines. Oh, +a provoking person or persons you are, since you and Ellen Heaton are +plural henceforth! No, I won't include her. _You_ are _singular_, by +your own confession, on this occasion. And, instead of Christmas +solemnisations, I shall take to reading the Commination Service over you +if you stay any longer at Florence because of the impracticable, +snowed-up roads around Rome. You really might as well object to coming +on account of the heat!... + +I thank you very much for meaning to bring my goods for me. I wish I +could have seen your pictures before they took to themselves golden +wings and fled away. Is it true, really, that you think to exhibit in +London Penini's portrait at the piano, as Sophie Eckley tells me? I +shall like to hear that you succeed in that. + +I see _her_ every day almost, if not quite. Nobody is like her. And +there are quantities of people here to choose from. I have not taken +heart and 'an evening for reception' yet, but we have had '_squeezes_' +of more or less stringency. Miss Ogle is here--and her family, of +course, for she is young--the author of 'A Lost Love,' that very pretty +book; and she is natural and pleasing. Do you know Lady Oswald, and her +daughter and son? She is Lady Elgin's sister-in-law, and brought a +letter to me from Lady Augusta Bruce. Then the Marshalls found us out +through Mr. De Vere (_her_ cousin), and in the name of Alfred Tennyson +(their intimate friend). Mrs. Marshall was a Miss Spring Rice, and is +very refined in all senses. Refinement expresses the whole woman. Yes, +there are some nice people here--nice people; it's the word. Nobody as +near to me as Mr. Page, whom we often see, I am happy to say, and who +has just presented the world (only _that_ is generally said of the lady) +with a _son_, and is on the point of presenting said world with a Venus. +_Will_ you come to see? I wonder.... + +I want you here to see a portrait taken of me in chalks by Miss Fox. I +said 'No' to her in London, which was my sole reason for saying 'Yes' to +her in Rome, when she asked me for a patient--or victim. She draws well, +and has been very successful with the hair at least. For the likeness +you shall judge for yourself. She comes here for an hour in the morning +to execute me, and I'm as well as can be expected under it.... + +May God bless you, dearest Fanny. What Christmas wishes warm from the +heart by heartfuls I throw at you! And say to Ellen Heaton, with cordial +love, that I thank her much for her kind letter, and remember her in all +affectionate wishes made for friends. I shall write to Mr. Ruskin. +_Don't_ get this letter, I say. + +Your +E.B.B. + +Robert's love, and _Penini's_. If 'Fanny' strikes you, 'Madame Bovary' +will thunder-strike you. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +43 Via di Leone, Rome: January 7, 18[54]. + +It is long, my ever dearest Miss Mitford, since I wrote to you last, but +since we came to Rome we have had troubles, out of the deep pit of which +I was unwilling to write to you, lest the shadows of it should cleave as +blots to my pen. Then one day followed another, and one day's work was +laid on another's shoulders. Well, we are all well, to begin with, and +have been well; our troubles came to us through sympathy entirely. A +most exquisite journey of eight days we had from Florence to Rome, +seeing the great monastery and triple church of Assisi and the wonderful +Terni by the way--that passion of the waters which makes the human heart +seem so still. In the highest spirits we entered Rome, Robert and Penini +singing actually; for the child was radiant and flushed with the +continual change of air and scene, and he had an excellent scheme about +'tissing the Pope's foot,' to prevent his taking away 'mine gun,' +somebody having told him that such dangerous weapons were not allowed by +the Roman police. You remember my telling you of our friends the +Storys--how they and their two children helped to make the summer go +pleasantly at the baths of Lucca? They had taken an apartment for us in +Rome, so that we arrived in comfort to lighted fires and lamps as if +coming home, and we had a glimpse of their smiling faces that evening. +In the morning, before breakfast, little Edith was brought over to us by +the manservant with a message--'The boy was in convulsions; there was +danger.' We hurried to the house, of course, leaving Edith with Wilson. +Too true! All that first day was spent beside a death-bed; for the child +never rallied, never opened his eyes in consciousness, and by eight in +the evening he was gone. In the meanwhile, Edith was taken ill at our +house--could not be moved, said the physicians. We had no room for her, +but a friend of the Storys on the floor immediately below--Mr. Page, the +artist--took her in and put her to bed. Gastric fever, with a tendency +to the brain, and within two days her life was almost despaired of; +exactly the same malady as her brother's. Also the English nurse was +apparently dying at the Storys' house, and Emma Page, the artist's +youngest daughter, sickened with the same symptoms. Now you will not +wonder that, after the first absorbing flow of sympathy, I fell into a +selfish human panic about my child. Oh, I 'lost my head,' said Robert; +and if I _could_ have caught him up in my arms and run to the ends of +the world, the hooting after me of all Rome could not have stopped me. I +wished--how I wished!--for the wings of a dove, or any unclean bird, to +fly away with him to be at peace. But there was no possibility but to +stay; also the physicians assured me solemnly that there was no +contagion possible, otherwise I would have at least sent him from us to +another house. To pass over this dreary time, I will tell you at once +that the three patients recovered; only in poor little Edith's case +Roman fever followed the gastric, and has persisted so, ever since, in +periodical recurrence, that she is very pale and thin. Roman fever is +not dangerous to life--simple fever and ague--but it is exhausting if +not cut off, and the quinine fails sometimes. For three or four days now +she has been free from the symptoms, and we are beginning to hope. Now +you will understand at once what ghastly flakes of death have changed +the sense of Rome to me. The first day by a death-bed! The first drive +out to the cemetery, where poor little Joe is laid close to Shelley's +heart (_Cor cordium_, says the epitaph), and where the mother insisted +on going when she and I went out in the carriage together. I am horribly +weak about such things. I can't look on the earth-side of death; I +flinch from corpses and graves, and never meet a common funeral without +a sort of horror. When I look deathwards I look _over_ death, and +upwards, or I can't look that way at all. So that it was a struggle +with me to sit upright in that carriage in which the poor stricken +mother sate so calmly--not to drop from the seat, which would have been +worse than absurd of me. Well, all this has blackened Rome to me. I +can't think about the Caesars in the old strain of thought; the antique +words get muddled and blurred with warm dashes of modern, every-day +tears and fresh grave-clay. Rome is spoiled to me--there's the truth. +Still, one lives through one's associations when not too strong, and I +have arrived at almost enjoying some things--the climate, for instance, +which, though perilous to the general health, agrees particularly with +me, and the sight of the blue sky floating like a sea-tide through the +great gaps and rifts of ruins. We read in the papers of a tremendously +cold winter in England and elsewhere, while I am able on most days to +walk out as in an English summer, and while we are all forced to take +precautions against the sun. Also Robert is well, and our child has not +dropped a single rose-leaf from his radiant cheeks. We are very +comfortably settled in rooms turned to the sun, and do work and play by +turns--having almost too many visitors--hear excellent music at Mrs. +Sartoris's (Adelaide Kemble) once or twice a week, and have Fanny Kemble +to come and talk to us with the doors shut, we three together. This is +pleasant. I like her decidedly. If anybody wants small-talk by handfuls +of glittering dust swept out of salons, here's Mr. Thackeray besides; +and if anybody wants a snow-man to match Southey's snow-woman (see +'Thalaba'), here's Mr. Lockhart, who, in complexion, hair, conversation, +and manners, might have been made out of one of your English +'_drifts_'--'sixteen feet deep in some places,' says Galignani. Also, +here's your friend _V._--Mrs. Archer Clive.[31] We were at her house the +other evening. She seems good-natured, but what a very peculiar person +as to looks, and even voice and general bearing; and what a peculiar +unconsciousness of peculiarity. I do not know her much. I go out very +little in the evening, both from fear of the night air and from +disinclination to stir. Mr. Page, our neighbour downstairs, pleases me +much, and you ought to know more of him in England, for his portraits +are like Titian's--flesh, blood, and soul. I never saw such portraits +from a living hand. He professes to have discovered secrets, and plainly +_knows_ them, from his wonderful effects of colour on canvas--not merely +in words. His portrait of Miss Cushman is a miracle. Gibson's famous +painted Venus is very pretty--that's my criticism. Yes, I will say +besides that I have seldom, if ever, seen so indecent a statue. The +colouring with an approximation to flesh tints produces that effect, to +my apprehension. I don't like this statue colouring--no, not at all. +Dearest Miss Mitford, will you write to me? I don't ask for a long +letter, but a letter--a letter. And I entreat you not to _prepay_. Among +other disadvantages, that prepaying tendency of yours may lose me a +letter one day. I want much to hear how you are bearing the winter--how +you are. Give me details about your dear self. + +[_The remainder of this letter is missing_] + + * * * * * + + +_To Mr. Westwood_ + +43 Via Bocca di Leone, Rome: February 2, [1854]. + +Thank you, my dear Mr. Westwood, for your kind defence of me against the +stupid, blind, cur-dog backbiting of the American writer. I will tell +you. Three weeks ago I had a letter from my brother, apprising me of +what had been said, and pressing on me the propriety of a contradiction +in form. Said I in reply: 'When you marry a wife, George, take her from +the class of those who have never printed a book, if this thing vexes +you. A woman in a crowd can't help the pushing up against her of dirty +coats; happy if somebody in boots does not tread upon her toes! Words +to that effect, I said. I really could not do the American the honour of +sitting down at the table with him to say: 'Sir, you are considerably +mistaken.' He was not only mistaken, you see, but so stupid and +self-willed in his mistake, so determined to make a system of it, but he +was too disreputable to set right. Also of the tendency of one's +writings one's readers are the best judges. I don't profess to write a +religious commentary on my writings. I am content to stand by the +obvious meaning of what I have written, according to the common sense of +the general reader. + +The tendency of my writings to Swedenborgianism has been observed by +others, though I had read Swedenborg, when I wrote most of them, as +little as the American editor of 'Robert Hall' can have done, and less +can't be certainly. Otherwise, the said editor would have known that the +central doctrine of Swedenborgianism being the Godhead of Jesus Christ, +no Unitarian, liberal or unliberal, could have produced works +Swedenborgian in character, and that William and Mary Howitt being +Unitarian (which I believe they are) couldn't have a tendency at the +same time to Swedenborgianism, unless it should be possible for them to +be bolt upright with a leaning to the floor. I speak to a wise man. +Judge what I say. For my own part I have thought freely on most +subjects, and upon the state of the Churches among others, but never at +any point of my life, and now, thank God, least of all, have I felt +myself drawn towards Unitarian opinions. I should throw up revelation +altogether if I ceased to recognise Christ as divine. Sectarianism I do +not like, even in the form of a State Church, and the Athanasian way of +stating opinions, between a scholastic paradox and a curse, is +particularly distasteful to me. But I hold to Christ's invisible Church +as referred to in Scripture, and to the Saviour's humanity and divinity +as they seem to me conspicuous in Scripture, and so you have done me +justice and the American has done me injustice.... + +Well, I have seen your Mrs. Brotherton, only once, though, because she +can't come to see me at all, and lives too far for me to go in the +winter weather. I shall see more of her presently, I hope, and in the +meantime she is very generous to me, and sends me violets, and notes +that are better, and we have a great sympathy on the spiritual subjects +which set you so in a passion. What do I say? She sends me Greek (of +which she does not know a single character), written by her, or rather +_through_ her; mystical Greek, from a spirit-world, produced by her +hands, she herself not knowing what she writes. The character is +beautifully written, and the separate words are generally correct--such +words as 'Christ,' 'God,' 'tears,' 'blood,' 'tempest,' 'sea,' 'thunder,' +'calm,' 'morning,' 'sun,' 'joy.' No grammatical construction hitherto, +but a significant sort of grouping of the separate words, as if the +meaning were struggling out into coherence. My idea is that she is being +exercised in the language, in the _character_, in order to fuller +expression hereafter. Well, you would have us snowed upon with poppies +till we sleep and forget these things. I, on the contrary, would have +our eyes wide open, our senses 'all attentive,' our souls lifted in +reverential expectation. Every _fact_ is a word of God, and I call it +irreligious to say, 'I will deny this because it displeases me.' 'I will +look away from that because it will do me harm.' Why be afraid of the +_truth_? God is in the truth, and He is called also Love. The evil +results of certain experiences of this class result mainly from the +superstitions and distorted views held by most people concerning the +spiritual world. We have to learn--we in the body--that Death does not +teach all things. Death is simply an accident. Foolish Jack Smith who +died on Monday, is on Tuesday still foolish Jack Smith. If people who on +Monday scorned his opinions prudently, will on Tuesday receive his least +words as oracles, they very naturally may go mad, or at least do +something as foolish as their inspirer is. Also, it is no argument +against any subject, that it drives people mad who suffer themselves to +be absorbed in it. That would be an argument against all religion, and +all love, by your leave. Ask the Commissioners of Lunacy; knock at the +door of mad-houses in general, and inquire what two causes act almost +universally in filling them. Answer--love and religion. The common +objection of the degradation of knocking with the leg of the table, and +the ridicule of the position for a spirit, &c., &c., I don't enter into +at all. Twice I have been present at table-experiments, and each time I +was deeply impressed--impressed, there's the word for it! The panting +and shivering of that dead dumb wood, the human emotion conveyed through +it--by what? had to me a greater significance than the St. Peter's of +this Rome. O poet! do you not know that poetry is not confined to the +clipped alleys, no, nor to the blue tops of 'Parnassus hill'? Poetry is +where we live and have our being--wherever God works and man +understands. Hein! ... if you are in a dungeon and a friend knocks +through the outer wall, spelling out by knocks the words you comprehend; +you don't think the worse of the friend standing in the sun who +remembers you. He is not degraded by it, you rather think. Now apply +this. Certainly, there is a reaction from the materialism of the age, +and this is certainly well, in my mind, but then there is something more +than this, more than a mere human reaction, I believe. I have not the +power of writing myself at all, though I have felt the pencil turn in my +hand--a peculiar spiral motion like the turning of the tables, and +independent of volition, but the power is not with me strong enough to +make words or letters even. + +We see a good deal of Fanny Kemble, a noble creature, and hear her +sister sing--Mrs. Sartoris. Do admit a little society. It is good for +soul and body, and on the Continent it is easy to get a handful of +society without paying too dear for it. That, I think, is an advantage +of Continental life. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +43 Via Bocca di Leone, Rome: March 19, 1854. + +My dearest Miss Mitford,--Your letter made my heart ache. It is sad, sad +indeed, that you should have had this renewed cold just as you appeared +to be rallying a little from previous shocks, and I know how depressing +and enfeebling a malady the influenza is. It's the vulture finishing the +work of the wolf. I pray God that, having battled through this last +attack, you may be gradually strengthened and relieved by the incoming +of the spring (though an English spring makes one shiver to think of +generally), and with the summer come out into the garden, to sit in a +chair and be shone upon, dear, dear friend. I shall be in England then, +and get down to see you this time, and I tenderly hold to the dear hope +of seeing you smile again, and hearing you talk in the old way.... + +We see a good deal of the Kembles here, and like them both, especially +the Fanny, who is looking magnificent still, with her black hair and +radiant smile. A very noble creature, indeed. Somewhat unelastic, +unpliant to the eye, attached to the old modes of thought and +convention, but noble in quality and defects; I like her much. She +thinks me credulous and full of dreams, but does not despise me for that +reason, which is good and tolerant of her, and pleasant, too, for I +should not be quite easy under her contempt. Mrs. Sartoris is genial and +generous, her milk has had time to stand to cream, in her happy family +relations. The Sartoris's house has the best society at Rome, and +exquisite music, of course. We met Lockhart there, and my husband sees a +good deal of him--more than I do, because of the access of cold weather +lately which has kept me at home chiefly. Robert went down to the +seaside in a day's excursion with him and the Sartoris's; and, I hear, +found favor in his sight. Said the critic: 'I like Browning, he isn't at +all like a damned literary man.' That's a compliment, I believe, +according to your dictionary. It made me laugh and think of you +directly. I am afraid Lockhart's health is in a bad state; he looks very +ill, and every now and then his strength seems to fail. Robert has been +sitting for his picture to Fisher, the English artist, who painted Mr. +Kenyon and Landor; you remember those pictures in Mr. Kenyon's house? +Landor's was praised much by Southey. Well, he has painted Robert, and +it is an admirable likeness.[32] The expression is an exceptional +expression, but highly characteristic; it is one of Fisher's best works. +Now he is about our Wiedeman, and if he succeeds as well in painting +angels as men, will do something beautiful with that seraphic face. You +are to understand that these works are done by the artist _for_ the +artist. Oh, we couldn't afford to have such a luxury as a portrait done +for us. But I am pleased to have a good likeness of each of my treasures +_extant_ in the possession of somebody. Robert's will, of course, be +eminently saleable, and Wiedeman's too, perhaps, for the beauty's sake, +with those blue far-reaching eyes, and that innocent angel face emplumed +in the golden ringlets! Somebody told me yesterday that she never had +known, in a long experience of children, so attractive a child. He is so +full of sweetness and vivacity together, of imagination and grace. A +poetical child really, and in the best sense. Such a piece of innocence +and simplicity with it all, too! A child you couldn't lie to if you +tried. I had a fit of remorse for telling him the history of Jack and +the Beanstalk, when he turned his earnest eyes up to me at the end and +said, 'I think, if Jack went up so high, he must have seen God.' + +To see those two works through the press must be a fatigue to you in +your present weak state, dearest friend, and I keep wishing vainly I +could be of use to you in the matter of the proof sheets. I might, you +know, if I were in England. I do some work myself, but doubt much +whether I shall be ready for the printers by July; no, indeed, it is +clear I shall not. If Robert is, it will be well. Doesn't it surprise +you that Alexander Smith should be already in a third edition? I can't +make it out for my part. I 'give it up' as is my way with riddles. He is +both too bad and too good to explain this phenomenon, which is harder to +me than any implied in the turning tables or involuntary writing. By the +way, a lady whom I know here _writes Greek_ without knowing or having +ever known a single letter of it. The unbelievers writhe under it. + +Oh, I have been reading poor Haydon's biography. There is tragedy! The +pain of it one can hardly shake off. Surely, surely, wrong was done +somewhere, when the worst is admitted of Haydon. For himself, looking +forward beyond the grave, I seem to understand that all things when most +bitter worked ultimate good to him, for that sublime arrogance of his +would have been fatal perhaps to the moral nature if developed further +by success. But for the nation we had our duties, and we should not +suffer our teachers and originators to sink thus. It is a book written +in blood of the heart. Poor Haydon! + +May God bless you, my dear friend! I think of you and love you dearly, +Robert's love, put to mine, and Penini's love put to Robert's. I give +away Penini's love as I please just now. + +Your ever affectionate +E.B.B. + +Send my bulletins; only _two lines_ if you will. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +[Rome: about March, 1854.] + +My dearest Sarianna,--We are all well, and so is the weather, which is +diviner. We sit with the windows wide open, and find it almost too warm, +and to-day Robert and I have been wandering under the trees of the +Pincio and looking to the Monte Marino pine. Let the best come, I don't +like Rome, I never shall; and as they have put into the English +newspapers that I don't, I might as well acknowledge the barbarism. Very +glad I shall be to see you and Paris, even though my beloved Florence +shall be left behind. Dearest Sarianna, after a short rest at Paris, we +go on to London for the printing of Robert's book (mine won't be ready +till later in the year), and for the sight of some dear English faces +while the weather shall admit of it, before we settle for the winter in +France. Well, you will go with us to England, won't you? The dear +nonno[33] will spare you to go with us? It will do you good, and it will +do us good, certainly. + +I quite agree with you that there's no situation like the Champs +Elysees--really, there is scarcely anything like it in Europe, if you +put away Venice--for a situation in a city. + +The worst of the Champs Elysees is that it is out of the way, and +expensive on the point of carriages when you can't walk far. People tell +you, too, that the air is sharper at the end of the avenue; yet the sun +is so brilliant as to make amends for the disadvantage, if it exists. +Then you pay more for houses on account of the concourse of English. And +what if I object a little to the English besides? If I do, the +desirableness of the pure air and free walking for Penini +counterbalances them. + +The Thackeray girls have had the scarlatina at Naples, and have been +very desolate, I fear, without a female servant or friend near them. +They probably were indisposed towards Naples by their own illness (which +was slight, however; the scarlet fever is always slight in Italy they +say), and by their father's more serious attack, for I have heard very +different accounts of the Neapolitan weather. Still, it has been an +abnormal winter everywhere, and there are cold winds on that coast on +certain months of the year always. Lockhart has gone away with the Duke +of Wellington, who was in deep consideration how he should manage his +funeral on the road. Robert was present when the question was mooted on +the Duke's last evening. _Should_ he send the body to England or bury +it? Would it be delicate to ask Lockhart which he preferred? Somebody +said: 'Suppose you were to ask what he would do with your body if you +died yourself.' I am afraid poor Lockhart is really in a dangerous state +of health, and that it would have been better if he had had something +tenderer and more considerate than a dukedom travelling with him under +his circumstances. He called upon us, and took a great fancy to Robert, +I understand, as being 'not at all like a damned literary man.' + +Penini is overwhelmed with attentions and gifts of all kinds, and +generally acknowledged as the king of the children here. Mrs. Page, the +wife of the distinguished American artist, gave a party in honor of him +the other day. There was an immense cake inscribed '_Penini_' in sugar; +and he sat at the head of the table and did the honors. You never saw a +child so changed in point of shyness. He will go anywhere with anybody, +and talk, and want none of us to back him. Wilson is only instructed not +to come till it is 'velly late' to fetch him away. He talks to Fanny +Kemble, who 'dashes' most people. 'I not aflaid of nossing,' says he, in +his eloquent English. Mr. Fisher's cartoon of him is very pretty, but +doesn't do him justice in the delicacy of the lower part of the face. +Yet I can't complain of Mr. Fisher after the admirable likeness he has +painted of Robert. It is really _satisfying_ to me. You will see it in +London. Oh, how cruel it is that we can't buy it, Sarianna; I have a +sort of hope that Mr. Kenyon may--but zitto, zitto![34] Arabel will be +very grateful to you for the drawings.... + +[_Endorsed by Miss Browning_, '_Part of a letter_'] + + * * * * * + + +The plans, thus confidently spoken of, for a visit to Paris and London +in the summer of this year, did not attain fulfilment. The Brownings +left Rome for Florence about the end of May, intending to stay there +only a few weeks; but their arrangements were altered by letters +received from England, and ultimately they remained in Florence until +the summer of the following year. Whether for this reason, or because +the poems were not, after all, ready for press, the printing of Mr. +Browning's new volumes ('Men and Women') was also postponed, and they +did not appear until 1855; while 'Aurora Leigh' was still a long way +from completion. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +Rome: May 10, 1854. + +My ever dearest Miss Mitford,--Your letter pained me to a degree which I +will not pain you by expressing farther. Now, I do not write to press +for another letter. On the contrary, I _entreat_ you not to attempt to +write a word to me with your own hand, until you can do so without +effort and suffering. In the meanwhile, would it be impossible for K. to +send me in one line some account of you? I don't mean to tease, but I +should be very glad and thankful to have news of you though in the +briefest manner, and if a letter were addressed to me at Poste Restante, +Florence, it would reach me, as we rest there on our road to Paris and +London. In any case I shall see you this summer, if it shall please God; +and stay with you the half hour you allow, and kiss your dear hands and +feel again, I hope, the brightness of your smile. As the green summer +comes on you must be the better surely; if you can bear to lie out under +the trees, the general health will rally and the local injury correct +itself. You must have a strong, energetic vitality; and, after all, +spinal disorders do not usually attack life, though they disable and +overthrow. The pain you endure is the terrible thing. Has a local +application of chloroform been ever tried? I catch at straws, perhaps, +with my unlearned hands, but it's the instinct of affection. While you +suffer, my dear friend, the world is applauding you. I catch sight of +stray advertisements and fragmentary notices of 'Atherton,' which seems +to have been received everywhere with deserved claps of hands. This will +not be comfort to you, perhaps; but you will feel the satisfaction which +every workman feels in successful work. I think the edition of plays and +poems has not yet appeared, and I suppose there will be nothing in +_that_ which can be new to us. 'Atherton' I thirst for, but the cup will +be dry, I dare say, till I get to England, for new books even at +Florence take waiting for far beyond all necessary bounds. We shall not +stay long in Tuscany. We want to be in England late in June or very +early in July, and some days belong to Paris as we pass, since Robert's +family are resident there. To leave Rome will fill me with barbarian +complacency. I don't pretend to have a rag of sentiment about Rome. It's +a palimpsest Rome--a watering-place written over the antique--and I +haven't taken to it as a poet should, I suppose; only let us speak the +truth, above all things. I am strongly a creature of association, and +the associations of the place have not been personally favorable to me. +Among the rest my child, the light of my eyes, has been more unwell +lately than I ever saw him in his life, and we were forced three times +to call in a physician. The malady was not serious, it was just the +result of the climate, relaxation of the stomach, &c., but the end is +that he is looking a delicate, pale, little creature, he who was radiant +with all the roses and stars of infancy but two months ago. The +pleasantest days in Rome we have spent with the Kembles--the two +sisters--who are charming and excellent, both of them, in different +ways; and certainly they have given us some exquisite hours on the +Campagna, upon picnic excursions, they and certain of their friends--for +instance, M. Ampere, the member of the French Institute, who is witty +and agreeable; M. Gorze, the Austrian Minister, also an agreeable man; +and Mr. Lyons, the son of Sir Edmund, &c. The talk was almost too +brilliant for the sentiment of the scenery, but it harmonised entirely +with the mayonnaise and champagne. I should mention, too, Miss Hosmer +(but she is better than a talker), the young American sculptress, who is +a great pet of mine and of Robert's, and who emancipates the eccentric +life of a perfectly 'emancipated female' from all shadow of blame by the +purity of hers. She lives here all alone (at twenty-two); dines and +breakfasts at the _cafes_ precisely as a young man would; works from six +o'clock in the morning till night, as a great artist must, and this with +an absence of pretension and simplicity of manners which accord rather +with the childish dimples in her rosy cheeks than with her broad +forehead and high aims. The Archer Clives have been to Naples, but have +returned for a time. Mr. Lockhart, who went to England with the Duke of +Wellington (the same prepared to bury him on the road), writes to Mrs. +Sartoris that he has grown much better under the influence of the native +beef and beer. To do him justice he looked, when here, innocent of the +recollection even of either. I wonder if you have seen Mrs. Howe's +poems, lately out, called 'Passion Flowers.' They were sent to me by an +American friend but were intercepted _en route_, so that I have not set +eyes on them yet, but one or two persons, not particularly reliable as +critics, have praised them to me. She is the wife of Dr. Howe, the deaf +and dumb philanthropist, and herself neither deaf nor dumb (very much +the contrary) I understand--a handsome woman and brilliant in society. I +gossip on to you, dearest dear Miss Mitford, as if you were in gossiping +humour. Believe that my tender thoughts, deeper than any said, are with +you always. + +Robert's love with that of your attached +BA. + +We go on the 22nd of this month. You have seen Mr. Chorley's book, I +daresay, which I should like much to see. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +Casa Guidi: Thursday, [end of May 1854]. + +My dearest Sarianna,--I am delighted to say that we have arrived, and +see our dear Florence, the queen of Italy, after all. On the road I said +to Penini, 'Make a poem about Florence.' Without a moment's hesitation +he began, 'Florence is more pretty of all. Florence is a beauty. +Florence was born first, and then Rome was born. And Paris was born +after.' Penini is always _en verve_. He's always ready to make a poem on +any subject, and doesn't ask you to wait while he clears his voice. The +darling will soon get over the effect of that poisonous Roman air, I do +trust, though it is humiliating to hear our Florentines wailing over the +loss of bloom and dimples; it doesn't console me that his amount of +growth is properly acknowledged. Well, good milk and good air will do +their work in a little time with God's blessing, and a most voracious +appetite is developed already, I am glad to say. Even in the journey he +revived, the blue marks under the darling eyes fading gradually away, +and now he looks decidedly better, though unlike himself of two months +ago. You are to understand that the child is perfectly well, and that +the delicate look is traceable distinctly and only to the attacks he had +in Rome during the last few weeks. Throughout the winter he was radiant, +as I used to tell you, and the confessed king of the whole host of his +contemporaries and country-babies.... + +_The Kembles_ were our gain in Rome. I appreciate and admire both of +them. They fail in nothing as you see them nearer. Noble and upright +women, whose social brilliancy is their least distinction! Mrs. Sartoris +is the more tender and tolerant, the more loveable and sympathetical, +perhaps, to me. I should like you to know them both. Then there is that +dear Mr. Page. Yes, and Harriet Hosmer, the young American sculptress, +who is an immense favorite with us both. + +A comfort is that Robert is considered here to be looking better than he +ever was known to look. And this notwithstanding the greyness of his +beard, which indeed is, in my own mind, very becoming to him, the +argentine touch giving a character of elevation and thought to the whole +physiognomy. This greyness was suddenly developed; let me tell you how. +He was in a state of bilious irritability on the morning of his arrival +in Rome from exposure to the sun or some such cause, and in a fit of +suicidal impatience shaved away his whole beard, whiskers and all! I +_cried_ when I saw him, I was so horror-struck. I might have gone into +hysterics and still been reasonable; for no human being was ever so +disfigured by so simple an act. Of course I said, when I recovered +breath and voice, that everything was at an end between him and me if he +didn't let it all grow again directly, and (upon the further advice of +his looking-glass) he yielded the point, and the beard grew. But it grew +_white_, which was the just punishment of the gods--our sins leave their +traces. + +Well, poor darling, Robert won't shock you after all, you can't choose +but be satisfied with his looks. M. de Monclar swore to me that he was +not changed for the intermediate years. + +Robert talks of money, of waiting for _that_, among other hindrances to +setting out directly. Not _my_ fault, be certain, Sarianna! We seem to +have a prospect of letting our house for a year, which, if the thing +happens, will give us a lift. + +We spent yesterday evening with Lytton at his villa, meeting there Mr. +and Mrs. Walpole, Frederick Tennyson, and young Norton (Mrs. Norton's +son), who married the Capri girl. She was not present, I am sorry to +say. We walked home to the song of nightingales by starlight and +firefly-light. Florence looks to us more beautiful than ever after +Rome. I love the very stones of it, to say nothing of the cypresses and +river. + +Robert says, 'Are you nearly done?' I am done. Give Penini's love and +mine to the dear nonno, and tell him (and yourself, dear) how delighted +we shall be [to] have you both. You are prepared to go to England, I +hope. By the way, the weather there is said to be murderous through +bitter winds, but it must soften as the season advances. May God bless +you! I am yours in truest love. + +BA. + +We had a very pleasant vettura journey, Robert will have told you. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +Florence: June 6, 1854. + +Yes, dearest friend, I had your few lines which Arabel sent to me. I had +them on the very day I had posted my letter to you, and I need not say +how deeply it moved me that you should have thought of giving me that +pleasure of Mr. Ruskin's kind word at the expense of what I knew to be +so much pain to yourself.... + +We mean to stay at Florence a week or two longer and then go northward. +I love Florence, the place looks exquisitely beautiful in its +garden-ground of vineyards and olive trees, sung round by the +nightingales day and night, nay, sung _into_ by the nightingales, for as +you walk along the streets in the evening the song trickles down into +them till you stop to listen. Such nights we have between starlight and +firefly-light, and the nightingales singing! I would willingly stay +here, if it were not that we are constrained by duty and love to go, and +at some day not distant, I daresay we shall come back 'for good and all' +as people say, seeing that if you take one thing with another, there is +no place in the world like Florence, I am persuaded, for a place to +live in. Cheap, tranquil, cheerful, beautiful, within the limit of +civilisation yet out of the crush of it. I have not seen the Trollopes +yet; but we have spent two delicious evenings at villas on the outside +the gates, one with young Lytton, Sir Edward's son, of whom I have told +you, I think. I like him, we both do, from the bottom of our hearts. +Then our friend Frederick Tennyson, the new poet, we are delighted to +see again. Have you caught sight of his poems? If you have, tell me your +thought. Mrs. Howe's I have read since I wrote last. Some of them are +good--many of the thoughts striking, and all of a certain elevation. Of +poetry, however, strictly speaking, there is not much; and there's a +large proportion of conventional stuff in the volume. She must be a +clever woman. Of the ordinary impotencies and prettinesses of female +poets she does not partake, but she can't take rank with poets in the +good meaning of the word, I think, so as to stand without leaning. Also +there is some bad taste and affectation in the dressing of her +personality. I dare say Mr. Fields will bring you her book. Talking of +American literature, with the publishers on the back of it, we think of +offering the proofs of our new works to any publisher over the water who +will pay us properly for the advantage of bringing out a volume in +America simultaneously with the publication in England. We have heard +that such a proposal will be acceptable, and mean to try it. The words +you sent to me from Mr. Ruskin gave me great pleasure indeed, as how +should they not from such a man? I like him personally, too, besides my +admiration for him as a writer, and I was deeply gratified in every way +to have his approbation. His 'Seven Lamps' I have not read yet. Books +come out slowly to Italy. It's our disadvantage, as you know. Ruskin and +art go together. I must tell you how Rome made me some amends after all. +Page, the American artist, painted a picture of Robert like an Italian, +and then presented it to me like a prince. It is a wonderful picture, +the colouring so absolutely _Venetian_ that artists can't (for the most +part) keep their temper when they look at it, and the breath of the +likeness is literal.[35] Mr. Page has _secrets_ in the art--certainly +nobody else paints like him--and his nature, I must say, is equal to his +genius and worthy of it. Dearest Miss Mitford, the 'Athenaeum' is always +as frigid as Mont Blanc; it can't be expected to grow warmer for looking +over your green valleys and still waters. It wouldn't be Alpine if it +did. They think it a point of duty in that journal to shake hands with +one finger. I dare say when Mr. Chorley sits down to write an article he +puts his feet in cold water as a preliminary. Still, I oughtn't to be +impertinent. He has been very good-natured to _me_, and it isn't his +fault if I'm not Poet Laureate at this writing, and engaged in cursing +the Czar in Pindarics very prettily. 'Atherton,' meanwhile, wants nobody +to praise it, I am sure. How glad I shall be to seize and read it, and +how I thank you for the gift! May God bless and keep you! I may hear +again if you write soon to Florence, but don't pain yourself for the +world, I entreat you. I shall see you before long, I think. + +Your ever affectionate +E.B.B. + +Robert's love. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +Florence: July 20, [1854]. + +My dearest Miss Mitford,--I this moment receive your little note. It +makes me very sad and apprehensive about you, and I would give all this +bright sunshine for weeks for one explanatory word which might make me +more easy. Arabel speaks of receiving your books--I suppose +'Atherton'--and of having heard from yourself a very bad account of +your state of health. Are you worse, my beloved friend? I have been +waiting to hear the solution of our own plans (dependent upon letters +from England) in order to write to you; and when I found our journey to +London was definitively rendered impossible till next spring, I deferred +writing yet again, it was so painful to me to say to you that our +meeting could not take place this year. Now, I receive your little note +and write at once to say how sad _that_ makes me. It is the first time +that the expression of your love, my beloved friend, has made me sad, +and I start as from an omen. On the other hand, the character you write +in is so firm and like yourself, that I do hope and trust you are not +sensibly worse. Let me hear by a word, if possible, that the change of +weather has done you some little good. I understand there has scarcely +been any summer in England, and this must necessarily have been adverse +to you. A gleam of fine weather would revive you by God's help. Oh, that +I could look in your face and say, 'God bless you!' as I feel it. May +God bless you, my dear, dear friend. + +Our reason for not going to England has not been from caprice, but a +cross in money matters. A ship was to have brought us in something, and +brought us in nothing instead, with a discount; the consequence of which +is that we are transfixed at Florence, and unable even to 'fly to the +mountains' as a refuge from the summer heat. It has been a great +disappointment to us all, and to our respective families, my poor +darling Arabel especially; but we can only be patient, and I take +comfort in the obvious fact that my Penini is quite well and almost as +rosy as ever in spite of the excessive Florence heat. One of the worst +thoughts I have is about _you_. I had longed so to see you this summer, +and had calculated with such certainty upon doing so. I would have gone +to England for that single reason if I could, but I can't; we can't +stir, really. That we should be able to sit quietly still at Florence +and eat our bread and maccaroni is the utmost of our possibilities this +summer. + +Mrs. Trollope has gone to the Baths of Lucca, and thus I have not seen +her. She will be very interested about you, of course. How many hang +their hearts upon your sickbed, dearest Miss Mitford! Yes, and their +prayers too. + +The other day, by an accident, an old number of the 'Athenaeum' fell into +my hands, and I read for the second time Mr. Chorley's criticism upon +'Atherton.' It is evidently written in a hurried manner, and is quite +inadequate as a notice of the book; but, do you know, I am of opinion +that if you considered it more closely you would lose your impression of +its being depreciatory and cold. He says that the _only fault_ of the +work is its _shortness_; a rare piece of praise to be given to a work +nowadays. You see, your reputation is at the height; neither he nor +another could _help_ you; such books as yours make their own way. The +'Athenaeum' doesn't give full critiques of Dickens, for instance, and it +is arctical in general temperature. I thought I would say this to you. +Certainly I _do know_ that Mr. Chorley highly regards you in every +capacity--as writer and as woman--and in the manner in which he named +you to me in his last letter there was no chill of sentiment nor recoil +of opinion. So do not admit a doubt of _him_; he is a sure and +affectionate friend, and absolutely high-minded and reliable; of an +intact and even chivalrous delicacy. I say it, lest you might have need +of him and be scrupulous (from your late feeling) about making him +useful. It is horrible to doubt of one's friends; oh, I know _that_, and +would save you from it. + +We had a letter from Paris two days ago from one of the noblest and most +intellectual men in the country, M. Milsand, a writer in the 'Deux +Mondes.' He complains of a stagnation in the imaginative literature, but +adds that he is consoled for everything by the 'state of politics.' Your +Napoleon is doing you credit, his very enemies must confess. + +As for me, I can't write to-day. Your little precious, melancholy note +hangs round the neck of my heart like a stone. Arabel simply says she +is afraid from what you have written to her that you must be very ill; +she does not tell me what you wrote to her--perhaps for fear of paining +me--and now I am pained by the silence beyond measure. + +Robert's love and warmest wishes for you. He appreciates your kind word +to him. And I, what am I to say? I love you from a very sad and grateful +heart, looking backwards and forwards--and _upwards_ to pray God's love +down on you! + +Your ever affectionate +E.B.B., rather BA. + +Precious the books will be to me. I hope not to wait to read them till +they reach me, as there is a bookseller here who will be sure to have +them. Thank you, thank you. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +Florence: September 4, 1854. + +Five minutes do not pass, my beloved friend, since reading this dear +letter which has wrung from me tender and sorrowful tears, and answering +it thus. Pray for you? I do not wait that you should bid me. May the +divine love in the face of our Lord Jesus Christ shine upon you day and +night, and make all our human loves strike you as cold and dull in +comparison with that ineffable tenderness! As to wandering prayers, I +cannot believe that it is of consequence whether this poor breath of +ours wanders or does not wander. If we have strength to throw ourselves +upon Him for everything, for prayer, as well as for the ends of prayer, +it is enough, and He will prove it to be enough presently. I have been +when I could not pray at all. And then God's face seemed so close upon +me that there was no need of prayer, any more than if I were near _you_, +as I yearn to be, as I ought to be, there would be need for this letter. +Oh, be sure that He means well by us by what we suffer, and it is when +we suffer that He often makes the meaning clearer. You know how that +brilliant, witty, true poet Heine, who was an atheist (as much as a man +can pretend to be), has made a public profession of a change of opinion +which was pathetic to my eyes and heart the other day as I read it. He +has joined no church, but simply (to use his own words) has 'returned +home to God like the prodigal son after a long tending of the swine.' It +is delightful to go home to God, even after a tending of the sheep. Poor +Heine has lived a sort of living death for years, quite deprived of his +limbs, and suffering tortures to boot, I understand. It is not because +we are brought low that we must die, my dearest friend. I hope--I do not +say 'hope' for _you_ so much as for _me_ and for the many who hang their +hearts on your life--I hope that you may survive all these terrible +sufferings and weaknesses, and I take my comfort from your letter, from +the firmness and beauty of the manuscript; I who know how weak hands +will shudder and reel along the paper. Surely there is strength for more +life in that hand. Now I stoop to kiss it in my thought. Feel my kiss on +the dear hand, dear, dear friend. + +A previous letter of yours pained me much because I seemed to have given +you the painful trouble in it of describing your state, your weakness. +Ah, I _knew_ what that state was, and it was _therefore_ that the slip +of paper which came with 'Atherton' seemed to me so ominous! By the way, +I shall see 'Atherton' before long, I dare say. The 'German Library' in +our street is to have a 'box of new books' almost directly, and in it +surely must be 'Atherton,' and you shall hear my thoughts of the book as +soon as I catch sight of it. Then you have sent me the Dramas. Thank +you, thank you; they will be precious. I saw the article in the +'Athenaeum' with joy and triumph, and knew Mr. Chorley by the 'Roman +hand.' In the 'Illustrated News' also, Robert (not I) read an +enthusiastic notice. He fell upon it at the reading-room where I never +go on account of my _she_-dom, women in Florence being supposed not-- + +(_Part of this letter is missing_) + +Think of me who am far, yet near in love and thought. Love me with that +strong heart of yours. May God bless it, bless it! + +I am ever your attached +E.B.B., rather BA. + +I have had a sad letter from poor Haydon's daughter. She has fifty-six +pounds a year, and can scarcely live on it in England, and inquires if +she could live in any family in Florence. I fear to recommend her to +come so far on such means. Robert's love. _May God bless you and keep +you! Love me._ + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +Florence: October 19, 1854. + +I will try not to be overjoyed, my dear, dearest Miss Mitford, but, +indeed, it is difficult to refrain from catching at hope with both +hands. If the general health will but rally, there is nothing fatal +about a spine disease. May God bless you, give you the best blessing in +earth and heaven, as the God of the living in both places. We ought not +to be selfish, nor stupid, so as to be afraid of leaving you in His +hands. What is beautiful and joyful to observe is the patience and +self-possession with which you endure even the most painful +manifestation of His will; and that, while you lose none of that +interest in the things of our mortal life which is characteristic of +your sympathetic nature, you are content, just as if you felt none, to +let the world go, according to the decision of God. May you be more and +more confirmed and elevated and at rest--being the Lord's, whether +absent from the body or present in it! For my own part, I have been long +convinced that what we call death is a mere incident in life--perhaps +scarcely a greater one than the occurrence of puberty, or the +revolution which comes with any new emotion or influx of new knowledge. +I am heterodox about sepulchres, and believe that no _part of us_ will +ever lie in a grave. I don't think much of my nail-parings--do you?--not +even of the nail of my thumb when I cut off what Penini calls the +'gift-mark' on it. I believe that the body of flesh is a mere husk which +drops off at death, while the spiritual body (see St. Paul) emerges in +glorious resurrection at once. Swedenborg says, some persons do not +immediately realise that they have passed death, and this seems to me +highly probable. It is curious that Maurice, Mr. Kingsley's friend, +about whom so much lately has been written and quarrelled (and who _has_ +made certain great mistakes, I think), takes this precise view of the +resurrection, with an apparent unconsciousness of what Swedenborg has +stated upon the subject, and that, I, too, long before I knew +Swedenborg, or heard the name of Maurice, came to the same conclusions. +I wonder if Mr. Kingsley agrees with us. I dare say he does, upon the +whole--for the ordinary doctrine seems to me as little taught by +Scripture as it can be reconciled with philosophical probabilities. I +believe in an active, _human_ life, beyond death as before it, an +uninterrupted human life. I believe in no waiting in the grave, and in +no vague effluence of spirit in a formless vapour. But you'll be tired +with 'what I believe.' + +I have been to the other side of Florence to call on Mrs. Trollope, on +purpose that I might talk to her of you, but she was not at home, though +she has returned from the Baths of Lucca. From what I hear, she appears +to be well, and has recommenced her 'public mornings,' which we shrink +away from. She 'receives' every Saturday morning in the most +heterogeneous way possible. It must be amusing to anybody not +overwhelmed by it, and people say that she snatches up 'characters' for +her 'so many volumes a year' out of the diversities of masks presented +to her on these occasions. Oh, our Florence! In vain do I cry out for +'Atherton.' The most active circulating library 'hasn't got it yet,' +they say. I must still wait. Meanwhile, of course, I am delighted with +all your successes, and your books won't spoil by keeping like certain +other books. So I may wait. + +How young children unfold like flowers, and how pleasant it is to watch +them! I congratulate you upon yours--your baby-girl must be a dear +forward little thing. But I wish I could show you my Penini, with his +drooping golden ringlets and seraphic smile, and his talk about +angels--you would like him, I know. Your girl-baby has avenged my name +for me, and now, if you heard my Penini say in the midst of a coaxing +fit--'O, my sweetest little mama, my darling, _dearlest_, little Ba,' +you would admit that 'Ba' must have a music in it, to my ears at least. +The love of two generations is poured out to me in that name--and the +stream seems to run (in one instance) when alas! the fountain is dry. I +do not refer to the dead who live still. + +Ah, dearest friend, you feel how I must have felt about the accident in +Wimpole Street.[36] I can scarcely talk to you about it. There will be +permanent lameness, Arabel says, according to the medical opinion, +though the general health was not for a moment affected. But permanent +lameness! That is sad, for a person of active habits. I ventured to +write a little note--which was not returned, I thank God--or read, I +dare say; but of course there was no result. I never even expected it, +as matters have been. I must tell you that our pecuniary affairs are +promising better results for next year, and that we shall not, in all +probability, be tied up from going to England. For the rest--if I +understand you--oh no! My husband has a family likeness to Lucifer in +being proud. Besides, it's not necessary. When literary people are +treated in England as in some other countries, in that case and that +time we may come in for our share in the pensions given by the people, +without holding out our hands. Now think of Carlyle--unpensioned! Why, +if we sate here in rags, we wouldn't press in for an obolus before +Belisarius. Mrs. Sartoris has been here on her way to Rome, spending +most of her time with us--singing passionately and talking eloquently. +She is really charming. May God bless and keep you and love you, beloved +friend! Love your own affectionate + +BA. + +May it be Robert's love? + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +[Florence:] November 11, 1854 [postmark]. + +My dearest Sarianna,--I shall be writing my good deeds in water to-day +with this mere pretence at inks.[37] We are all well, though it is much +too cold for me--a horrible tramontana which would create a cough under +the ribs of death, and sets me coughing a little in the morning. I am +afraid it's to be a hard winter again this year--or harder than last +year's. We began fires on the last day of October, after the most +splendid stretch of spring, summer, and autumn I ever remember. We have +translated our room into winter--sent off the piano towards the windows, +and packed tables, chairs, and sofas as near to the hearth as possible. + +What a time of anxiety this war time is![38] I do thank God that _we_ +have no reasons for its being a personal agony, through having anyone +very precious at the post of danger. I have two first cousins there, a +Hedley, and Paget Butler, Sir Thomas's son. I understand that the gloom +in England from the actual bereavements is great; that the frequency of +deep mourning strikes the eye; that even the shops are filled chiefly +with black; and that it has become a sort of _mode_ to wear black or +grey, without family losses, and from the mere force of sympathy. + +My poor father is still unable to stir from the house, and he has been +unwell through a bilious attack, the consequence of want of exercise. +Nothing can induce him to go out in a carriage, because he 'never did in +his life drive out for mere amusement,' he says. There's what Mr. Kenyon +calls 'the Barrett obstinacy,' and it makes me uneasy as to the effect +of it in this instance upon the general health of the patient. Poor +darling Arabel seems to me much out of spirits--'out of humour,' _she_ +calls it, dear thing--oppressed by the gloom of the house, and looking +back yearningly to the time when she had sisters to talk to. Oh +Sarianna, I wish we were all together to have a good gossip or groaning, +with a laugh at the end!... + +Your ever affectionate sister, +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +Florence: November 1854. + +My dearest Mrs. Martin,--You make me wait and I make you wait for +letters. It is bad of us both--and remember, _worse of you_, seeing that +you left two long letters of mine unanswered for months. I felt as if I +had fallen down an _oubliette_, and I was about to utter the loud +shrieks befitting the occasion, when you wrote at last. Don't treat me +so another time; I want to know your plans for the winter, since the +winter is upon us. Next summer, if it pleases God, we shall certainly +meet somewhere--say Paris, say London. We shall have money for it, which +we had not this year; and now the disappointment's over, I don't care. +The heat at Florence was very bearable, and our child grew into his +roses lost at Rome, and we have lived a very tranquil and happy six +months on our own sofas and chairs, among our own nightingales and +fireflies. There's an inclination in me to turn round with my Penini +and say, 'I'm an Italian.' Certainly both light and love seem stronger +with me at Florence than elsewhere.... + +The war! The alliance is the consolation; the necessity is the +justification. For the rest, one shuts one's eyes and ears--the rest is +too horrible. What do you mean by fearing that the war itself may not be +all the evil of the war? I expect, on the contrary, a freer political +atmosphere after this thunder. Louis Napoleon is behaving very tolerably +well, won't you admit, after all? And I don't look to a treason at the +end as certain of his enemies do, who are reduced to a 'wait, wait, and +you'll see.' There's a friend of mine here, a traditional anti-Gallican, +and very lively in his politics until the last few months. He can't +speak now or lift up his eyelids, and I am too magnanimous in opposition +to talk of anything else in his presence except Verdi's last opera, +which magnanimity he appreciates, though he has no ear. About a month +ago he came suddenly to life again. 'Have you heard the news? Napoleon +is suspected of making a secret treaty with Russia.' The next morning he +was as dead as ever--poor man! It's a desperate case for him. + +Are you not happy--_you_--in this fast union between England and France? +Some of our English friends, coming to Italy through France, say that +the general feeling towards England, and the affectionate greetings and +sympathies lavished upon them as Englishmen by the French everywhere, +are quite strange and touching. 'In two or three years,' said a +Frenchman on a railroad, 'French and English, we shall make only one +nation.' Are you very curious about the subject of gossip just now +between Lord Palmerston and Louis Napoleon? We hear from somebody in +Paris, whose _metier_ it is to know everything, that it refers to the +readjustment of affairs in Italy. May God grant it! The Italians have +been hanging their whole hope's weight upon Louis Napoleon ever since he +came to power, and if he does now what he can for them I shall be proud +of my _protege_--oh, and so glad! Robert and I clapped our hands +yesterday when we heard this; we couldn't refrain, though our informant +was reactionary and in a deep state of conservative melancholy. 'Awful +things were to be expected about Italy,' quotha! + +Now do be good, and write and tell me what your plans are for the +winter. We shall remain here till May, and then, if God pleases, go +north--to Paris and London. Robert and I are at work on our books. I +have taken to ass's milk to counteract the tramontana, and he is in the +twenty-first and I in the twenty-second volume of Alexandre Dumas's +'Memoirs.' The book is _un peu hasarde_ occasionally, as might be +expected, but extremely interesting, and I really must recommend it to +your attention for the winter if you don't know it already. + +We have seen a good deal of Mrs. Sartoris lately on her way to Rome +(Adelaide Kemble)--eloquent in talk and song, a most brilliant woman, +and noble. She must be saddened since then, poor thing, by her father's +death. Tell me if it is true that Harriet Martineau has seceded again +from her atheism? We heard so the other day. Dearest Mrs. Martin, do +write to me; and do, both of you, remember me, and think of both of us +kindly. With Robert's true regards, + +I am your as ever affectionate +BA. + +Tell me dear Mr. Martin's mind upon politics--in the Austrian and +Prussian question, for instance. We have no fears, in spite of Dr. +Cumming and the prophets generally, of ultimate results. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Mitford_ + +Florence: December 11, 1854. + +I should have written long ago, my dearest Miss Mitford, to try to say +half the pleasure and gratitude your letter made for me, but I have +been worried and anxious about the illnesses, not exactly in my family +but nearly as touching to me, and hanging upon posts from England in a +painful way inevitable to these great distances.... + +I understand that literature is going on flaggingly in England just now, +on account of nobody caring to read anything but telegraphic messages. +So Thackeray told somebody, only he might refer chiefly to the fortunes +of the 'Newcomes,' who are not strong enough to resist the Czar. The +book is said to be defective in story. Certainly the subject of the war +is very absorbing; we are all here in a state of tremblement about it. +Dr. Harding has a son at Sebastopol, who has had already three horses +killed under him. What hideous carnage! The allies are plainly +numerically too weak, and the two governments are much blamed for not +reinforcing long ago. I am discontented about Austria. I don't like +handshaking with Austria; I would rather be picking her pocket of her +Italian provinces; and, while upon such civil terms, how _can_ we? Yet +somebody, who professes to know everything, told somebody at Paris, who +professes to tell everything, that Louis Napoleon and Lord Palmerston +talked much the other day about what is to be done for Italy; and here +in Italy we have long been all opening our mouths like so many young +thrushes in a nest, expecting some 'worme small' from your Emperor. Now, +if there's an Austrian alliance instead!... + +Do you hear from Mr. Kingsley? and, if so, how is his wife? I am reading +now Mrs. Stowe's 'Sunny Memories,' and like the naturalness and +simplicity of the book much, in spite of the provincialism of the tone +of mind and education, and the really wretched writing. It's quite +wonderful that a woman who has written a book to make the world ring +should write so abominably.... + +Do you hear often from Mr. Chorley? Mr. Kenyon complains of never seeing +him. He seems to have withdrawn a good deal, perhaps into closer +occupations, who knows? Aubrey de Vere told a friend of ours in Paris +the other day that Mr. Patmore was engaged on a poem which 'was to be +the love poem of the age,' parts of which he, Aubrey de Vere, had seen. +Last week I was vexed by the sight of Mrs. Trollope's card, brought in +because we were at dinner. I should have liked to have seen her for the +sake of the opportunity of talking of _you_. + +Do you know the engravings in the 'Story without an End'? The picture of +the 'child' is just my Penini. Some one was observing it the other day, +and I thought I would tell you, that you might image him to yourself. +Think of his sobbing and screaming lately because of the Evangelist John +being sent to Patmos. 'Just like poor Robinson Crusoe' said he. I +scarcely knew whether to laugh or cry, I was so astonished at this +crisis of emotion. + +Robert's love will be put in. May God bless you and keep you, and love +you better than we all. + +Your ever affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +Casa Guidi: February 13, [1855]. + +My dearest Mrs. Martin,--How am I to thank you for this most beautiful +shawl, looking fresh from Galatea's flocks, and woven by something finer +than her fingers? You are too good and kind, and I shall wrap myself in +this piece of affectionateness on your part with very pleasant feelings. +Thank you, thank you. I only wish I could have seen you (though more or +less dimly, it would have been a satisfaction) in the face of your +friend who was so kind as to bring the parcel to me. But I have been +very unwell, and was actually in bed when he called; unwell with the +worst attack on the chest I ever suffered from in Italy. Oh, I should +have written to you long since if it had not been for this. For a month +past or more I have been ill. Now, indeed, I consider myself +convalescent; the exhausting cough and night fever are gone, I may say, +the pulse quiet, and, though considerably weakened and pulled down, that +will be gradually remedied as long as this genial mildness of the +weather lasts. You were quite right in supposing us struck here by the +cold of which you complained even at Pau. Not only here but at Pisa +there has been snow and frost, together with a bitter wind which my +precaution of keeping steadily to two rooms opening one into another +could not defend me from. My poor Robert has been horribly vexed about +me, of course, and indeed suffered physically at one time through +sleepless nights, diversified by such pastimes as keeping fires alight +and warming coffee, &c. &c. Except for love's sake it wouldn't be worth +while to live on at the expense of doing so much harm, but you needn't +exhort--I don't give it up. I mean to live on and be well. + +In the meantime, in generous exchange for your miraculous shawl, I send +you back sixpence worth of rhymes. They were written for Arabel's Ragged +School bazaar last spring (she wanted our names), and would not be worth +your accepting but for the fact of their not being purchaseable +anywhere.[39] A few copies were sent out to us lately. Half I draw back +my hand as I give you this little pamphlet, because I seem to hear dear +Mr. Martin's sardonic laughter at my phrase about the Czar. 'If she +wink, &c.' Well, I don't generally sympathise with the boasting mania of +my countrymen, but it's so much in the blood that, even with _me_, it +exceeds now and then, you observe. Ask him to be as gentle with me as +possible. + +Oh, the East, the East! My husband has been almost frantic on the +subject. We may all cover our heads and be humble.[40] Verily we have +sinned deeply. As to ministers, that there is blame I do not doubt. The +Aberdeen element has done its worst, but our misfortune is that nobody +is responsible; and that if you tear up Mr. So-and-so and Lord So-and-so +limb from limb, as a mild politician recommended the other day, you +probably would do a gross injustice against very well-meaning persons. +It's the system, the system which is all one gangrene; the most corrupt +system in Europe, is it not? Here is my comfort. Apart from the dreadful +amount of individual suffering which cries out against us to heaven and +earth, this adversity may teach us much, this shock which has struck to +the heart of England may awaken us much, and this humiliation will +altogether be good for us. We have stood too long on a pedestal talking +of our moral superiority, our political superiority, and all our other +superiorities, which I have long been sick of hearing recounted. Here's +an inferiority proved. Let us understand it and remedy it, and not talk, +talk, any more. + +[_Part of this letter has been cut out_] + +We heard yesterday from the editor of the 'Examiner,' Mr. Forster, who +expects some terrible consequence of present circumstances in England, +as far as I can understand. The alliance with France is full of +consolation. There seems to be a real heart-union between the peoples. +What a grand thing the Napoleon loan is! It has struck the English with +admiration. + +I heard, too, among other English news, that Walter Savage Landor, who +has just kept his eightieth birthday, and is as young and impetuous as +ever, has caught the whooping cough by way of an illustrative accident. +Kinglake ('E[=o]then') came home from the Crimea (where he went out and +fought as an amateur) with fever, which has left one lung diseased. He +is better, however.... + +Dearest Mrs. Martin, dearest friends, be both of you well and strong. +Shall we not meet in Paris this early summer? + +May God bless you! Your ever affectionate + +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +Florence: February 24, 1855. + +The devil (say charitable souls) is not as bad as he is painted, and +even I, dearest Mona Nina, am better than I seem. In the first place, +let me make haste to say that I _never received_ the letter you sent me +to Rome with the information of your family affliction, and that, if I +had, it could never have remained an unnoticed letter. I am not so +untender, so unsympathising, not so brutal--let us speak out. I lost +several letters in Rome, besides a good deal of illusion. I did not like +Rome, I think I confessed to you. In the second place, when your last +letter reached me--I mean the letter in which you told me to write to +you directly--I _would_ have written directly, but was so very unwell +that you would not have wished me even to try if, absent in the flesh, +you had been present in spirit. I have had a severe attack on the +chest--the worst I ever had in Italy--the consequence of exceptionally +severe weather--bitter wind and frost together--which quite broke me up +with cough and fever at night. Now I am well again, only of course much +weakened, and grown thin. I mean to get fat again upon cod's liver oil, +in order to appear in England with some degree of decency. You know I'm +a lineal descendant of the White Cat, and have seven lives accordingly. +Also I have a trick of falling from six-storey windows upon my feet, in +the manner of the traditions of my race. Not only I die hard, but I can +hardly die. 'Half of it would kill _me_,' said an admiring friend the +other day. 'What strength you must have!' A questionable advantage, +except that I have also--a Robert, and a Penini! + +Dearest friend, I don't know how to tell you of our fullness of sympathy +in your late trials.[41] From a word which reached us from England the +other day, there will be, I do trust, some effectual arrangement to +relieve your friends from their anxieties about you. Then, there should +be an increase of the Government pension by another hundred, that is +certain; only the 'should be' lies so far out of sight in the ideal, +that nobody in his senses should calculate on its occurrence. As to Law, +it's different from Right--particularly in England perhaps--and appeals +to Law are disastrous when they cannot be counted on as victorious, +always and certainly. Therefore you may be wise in abstaining; you have +considered sufficiently, of course. I only hope you are not trammelled +in any degree by motives of delicacy which would be preposterous under +the actual circumstances. You meantime are as nobly laborious as ever. +We have caught hold of fragments in the newspapers from your +'Commonplace Book,' which made us wish for more; and Mr. Kenyon told me +of a kind mention of Robert which was very pleasant to me. + +How will it be? Shall you be likely to come to Italy before we set out +to the north--that is, before the middle of May--or shall we cross on +the road, like our letters, or shall we catch you in London, or in Paris +at least? Oh, you won't miss the Exhibition in Paris. That seems +certain. + +I know Florence Nightingale slightly. She came to see me when we were in +London last; and I remember her face and her graceful manner, and the +flowers she sent me after afterwards. I honor her from my heart. She is +an earnest, noble woman, and has fulfilled her woman's duty where many +men have failed. + +At the same time, I confess myself to be at a loss to see any new +position for the sex, or the most imperfect solution of the 'woman's +question,' in this step of hers. If a movement at all, it is retrograde, +a revival of old virtues! Since the siege of Troy and earlier, we have +had princesses binding wounds with their hands; it's strictly the +woman's part, and men understand it so, as you will perceive by the +general adhesion and approbation on this late occasion of the masculine +dignities. Every man is on his knees before ladies carrying lint, +calling them 'angelic she's,' whereas, if they stir an inch as thinkers +or artists from the beaten line (involving more good to general +humanity; than is involved in lint), the very same men would curse the +impudence of the very same women and stop there. I can't see on what +ground you think you see here the least gain to the 'woman's question,' +so called. It's rather _the contrary_, to my mind, and, any way, the +women of England must give the precedence to the _soeurs de charite_, +who have magnificently won it in all matters of this kind. For my own +part (and apart from the exceptional miseries of the war), I acknowledge +to you that I do not consider the best use to which we can put a gifted +and accomplished woman is to _make her a hospital nurse_. If it is, why +then woe to us all who are artists! The woman's question is at an end. +The men's 'noes' carry it. For the future I hope you will know your +place and keep clear of Raffaelle and criticism; and I shall expect to +hear of you as an organiser of the gruel department in the hospital at +Greenwich, that is, if you have the luck to _percer_ and distinguish +yourself. + +Oh, the Crimea! How dismal, how full of despair and horror! The results +will, however, be good if we are induced to come down from the English +pedestal in Europe of incessant self-glorification, and learn that our +close, stifling, corrupt system gives no air nor scope for healthy and +effective organisation anywhere. We are oligarchic in all things, from +our parliament to our army. Individual interests are admitted as +obstacles to the general prosperity. This plague runs through all things +with us. It accounts for the fact that, according to the last marriage +statistics, thirty per cent, of the male population signed with the +_mark_ only. It accounts for the fact that London is at once the largest +and ugliest city in Europe. For the rest, if we cannot fight righteous +and necessary battles, we must leave our place as a nation, and be +satisfied with making pins. Write to me, but don't pay your letters, +dear dear friend, and I will tell you why. Through some slip somewhere +we have had to pay your two last letters just the same. So don't try it +any more. Do you think we grudge postage from you? Tell me if it is true +that Harriet Martineau is very ill. What do you hear of her? + +May God bless you! With Robert's true love, + +Your ever affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +The following letter is the first of a few addressed to Mr. Ruskin, +which have been made available through the kindness of Mrs. Arthur +Severn. The acquaintanceship with Mr. Ruskin dated from the visit of the +Brownings to England in 1852 (see vol. ii. p. 87, above); but the +occasion of the present correspondence was the recent death of Miss +Mitford, which took place on January 10, 1855. Mr. Ruskin had shown much +kindness to her during her later years, and after her death had written +to Mrs. Browning to tell her of the closing scenes of her friend's life. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mr. Ruskin_ + +Florence: March 17, 1855. + +I have your letter, dear Mr. Ruskin. The proof is the pleasure it has +given me--yes, and given my husband, which is better. 'When has a +letter given me so much pleasure?' he exclaimed, after reading it; 'will +you write?' I thank you much--much for thinking of it, and I shall be +thankful of anything you can tell me of dearest Miss Mitford. I had a +letter from her just before she went, written in so firm a hand, and so +vital a spirit, that I could feel little apprehension of never seeing +her in the body again. God's will be done. It is better so, I am sure. +She seemed to me to see her way clearly, and to have as few troubling +doubts in respect to the future life as she had to the imminent end of +the present. + +Often we have talked and thought of you since the last time we saw you, +and, before your letter came, we had ventured to put on the list of +expected pleasures connected with our visit to England, fixed for next +summer, the pleasure of seeing more of Mr. Ruskin. For the rest, there +will be some bitter things too. I do not miss them generally in England, +and among them this time will be an empty place where I used always to +find a tender and too indulgent friend. + +You need not be afraid of my losing a letter of yours. The peril would +be mine in that case. But among the advantages of our Florence--the art, +the olives, the sunshine, the cypresses, and don't let me forget the +Arno and mountains at sunset time--is that of an all but infallible post +office. One loses letters at Rome. Here, I think, we have lost _one_ in +the course of eight years, and for that loss I hold my correspondent to +blame. + +How good you are to me! How kind! The soul of a cynic, at its third +stage of purification, might feel the value of 'Gold' laid on the +binding of a book by the hand of John Ruskin. Much more I, who am apt to +get too near that ugly 'sty of Epicurus' sometimes! Indeed you have +gratified me deeply. There was 'once on a time,' as is said in the fairy +tales, a word dropped by you in one of your books, which I picked up and +wore for a crown. Your words of goodwill are of great price to me +always, and one of my dear friend Miss Mitford's latest kindnesses to me +was copying out and sending to me a sentence from a letter of yours +which expressed a favorable feeling towards my writings. She knew +well--she who knew me--the value it would have for me, and the courage +it would give me for any future work. + +With my husband's cordial regards, + +I remain most truly yours, +ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. + +Our American friends, who sent to Dresden in vain for your letter, are +here now, but will be in England soon on their way to America, with the +hope of trying fate again in another visit to you. Thank you! Also thank +you for your inquiry about my health. I have had a rather bad attack on +my chest (never very strong) through the weather having been colder than +usual here, but now I am very well again--for _me_. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +Florence: April 20, 1855. + +My dearest Mrs. Martin,--Having nine lives, as I say, I am alive again, +and prosperous--thanking you for wishing to know. People look at me and +laugh, because it's a clear case of bulbous root with me--let me pass +(being humble) for the onion. I was looking miserable in February, and +really could scarcely tumble across the room, and now I am up on my +perch again--nay, even out of my cage door. The weather is divine. One +feels in one's self why the trees are green. I go out, walk out, have +recovered flesh and fire--my very hair curls differently. '_Is I, I?_' I +say with the metaphysicians. There's something vital about this Florence +air, for, though much given to resurrection, I never made such a leap in +my life before after illness. Robert and I need to run as well as leap. +We have quantities of work to do, and small time to do it in. He is +four hours a day engaged in dictating to a friend of ours who +transcribes for him, and I am not even ready for transcription--have not +transcribed a line of my six or seven thousand. We go to England, or at +least to Paris, next month, but it can't be early. Oh, may we meet you! +Our little Penini is radiant, and altogether we are all in good spirits. +Which is a shame, you will say, considering the state of affairs at +Sebastopol. Forgive me. I never, at worst, thought that the great +tragedy of the world was going on _there_. It was tragic, but there are +more chronic cruelties and deeper despairs--ay, and more exasperating +wrongs. For the rest, we have the most atrocious system in Europe, and +we mean to work it out. Oh, you will see. Your committees nibble on, and +this and that poisonous berry is pulled off leisurely, while the bush to +the root of it remains, and the children eat on unhindered on the other +side. I had hoped that there was real feeling among politicians. But no; +we are put off with a fast day. There, an end! I begin to think that +nothing will do for England but a good revolution, and a 'besom of +destruction' used dauntlessly. We are getting up our vainglories again, +smoothing our peacock's plumes. We shall be as exemplary as ever by next +winter, you will see. + +Meanwhile, dearest Mrs. Martin, that _you_ should ask me about +'Armageddon' is most assuredly a sign of the times. You know I pass for +being particularly mad myself, and everybody, almost universally, is +rather mad, as may be testified by the various letters I have to read +about 'visible spirit-hands,' pianos playing themselves, and +flesh-and-blood human beings floating about rooms in company with tables +and lamps. Dante has pulled down his own picture from the wall of a +friend of ours in Florence five times, signifying his pleasure that it +should be destroyed at once as unauthentic (our friend burnt it +directly, which will encourage me to pull down mine by [_word lost_]). +Savonarola also has said one or two things, and there are gossiping +guardian angels, of whom I need not speak. Let me say, though, that +nothing has surprised me quite so much as _your_ inquiring about +Armageddon, because I am used to think of you as the least in the world +of a theorist, and am half afraid of you sometimes, and range the chairs +before my speculative dark corners, that you may not think or see 'how +very wild that Ba is getting!' Well, now it shall be my turn to be +sensible and unbelieving. There's a forced similitude certainly, in the +etymology, between the two words; but if it were full and perfect I +should be no nearer thinking that the battle of Armageddon could ever +signify anything but a great spiritual strife. The terms, taken from a +symbolical book, are plainly to my mind symbolical, and Dr. Cumming and +a thousand mightier doctors could not talk it out of me, I think. I +don't, for the rest, like Dr. Cumming; his books seem to me very narrow. +Isn't the tendency with us all to magnify the great events of our own +time, just as we diminish the small events? For me, I am heretical in +certain things. I expect _no_ renewal of the Jewish kingdom, for +instance. And I doubt much whether Christ's 'second coming' will be +personal. The end of the world is probably the end of a dispensation. +What I expect is, a great development of Christianity in opposition to +the churches, and of humanity generally in opposition to the nations, +and I look out for this in much quiet hope. Also, and in the meanwhile, +the war seems to be just and necessary. There is nothing in it to +regret, except the way of conducting it.... + +Write to me soon again, and tell me as much of both of you as you can +put into a letter. + +May God bless you always! + +With Robert's warm regards, both of you think of me as + +Your ever affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Braun_ + +Florence: May 13, [1855]. + +My dearest Madame Braun,--You have classed me and ticketed me before +now, I think, as among the ungrateful of the world; yet I am grateful, +grateful, grateful! When your book[42] came (how very kind you were to +send it to me!) and when I had said so some five times running, in came +somebody who was _fanatico per Roma_, and reverential in proportion for +Dr. Braun, who with some sudden appeal to my sensibility--the softer +just then that I was only just recovering strength after a sharp winter +attack--swept the volume off the table and carried it off out of the +house to study the contents at leisure. I expected it back the next +week, but it lingered. And I really hadn't the audacity to write to you +and say, 'Thank you, but I have looked as yet simply at the title-page.' +Well, at last it comes home, and I turn the leaves, examine, read, +approve, like Ludovisi and the Belvedere, with a double pleasure of +association and become _qualified_ properly to thank you and Dr. Braun +from Robert and myself for this gift to us and valuable contribution to +archaeological literature. I am only sorry I did not get to Rome after +the book; it would have helped my pleasure so, holding up the lanthorn +in dark places. So much suggestiveness in combination with so much +specific information makes a book (or a man) worth knowing. + +Of late, other hindrances have come to writing this, in the shape of +various labours of Hercules, which fall sometimes to Omphale as well. We +go to England in a week or two or three, and we take between us some +sixteen thousand lines, eight on one side, eight on the other, which +ought to be ready for publication. I have not finished my seventh +thousand yet; Robert is at his mark. Then, I have to see that we have +shoes and stockings to go in, and that Penini's little trousers are +creditably frilled and tucked. Then, about twenty letters lie by me +waiting to be answered in time, so as to save me from a mobbing in +England. Then there are visits to be paid all round in Florence, to make +amends for the sins of the winter; visiting, like almsgiving, being put +generally in the place of virtue, when the latter is found too +inconvenient. Altogether, my head swims and my heart ticks before the +day's done, with positive weariness. For there are Penini's lessons, you +are to understand, besides the rest. And 'between the intersections,' +cod liver oil to be taken judiciously, in order to appear before my +English friends with due decency of corporeal coverture. + +Well, now, do tell me, _shall_ you go to England, _you_? You will see my +reasons for being very interested. Oh, I hope you won't be snatched away +to Naples, or nailed down at Rome. Railroads open from Marseilles; the +Exhibition open at Paris! Surely, surely Dr. Braun will go to Paris to +see the Exhibition. His conscience won't let him off. Tell him too, +_from me_, that in London he may _see a spirit_ if he will go for it. I +have a letter from a friend who swears to me he has shaken hands with +three or four--'softer, more thrilling than any woman's hand'--'tenderly +touching'--think of that! The American 'medium' Hume is turning the +world upside down in London with this spiritual influx. + +Let me remember to tell you. Your paper _was in the_ '_Athenaeum_.' +Therefore, if you were not paid for it, it was the more abominable. +Robert saw it with his own eyes, printed. When I heard from you that you +had heard nothing, I mentioned the circumstance to Mrs. Jameson in a +letter I was writing to her, and I do hope she has not neglected since +to give you some information at least. You are aware probably of the +excellent effect with which that kind Mrs. Procter has managed a private +subscription in behalf of dear Mrs. Jameson, in consequence of which she +will be placed in circumstances of ease for the rest of her life. Fanny +Kemble nobly gave a hundred pounds towards this good purpose. Mrs. +Jameson spoke in her last letter of coming to Italy this summer, and I +dare say we shall have the ill luck to lose her, miss her, cross her _en +route_, perhaps. + +We hear from dear Mr. Kenyon and from Miss Bayley; each very well and +full of animation. If it were not for them, and my dear sisters, and one +or two other hands I shall care to clasp (beside the spirits!) I would +give much not to go north. Oh, we Italians grow out of the English bark; +it won't hold us after a time. Such a happy year I have had this last! I +do love Florence so! When Penini says, 'Sono Italiano, voglio essere +Italiano,' I agree with him perfectly. + +So we shall come back of course, if we live; indeed, we leave this house +ready to come back to, meaning, if we can, to let our rooms simply. + +Little Penini looks like a rose, and has, besides, the understanding and +sweetness of a creature 'a little lower than the angels.' I don't care +any less for him than I did, upon the whole. + +I hear the Sartoris's think of Paris for next winter, and mean to give +up Rome. She has been a good deal secluded, until quite lately, they +say, on account of her father's death and brother's worse than death, +which may account in part for any backwardness you may have observed. As +to her 'not liking Dr. Braun,' do _you_ believe in anybody's not liking +Dr. Braun? _I_ don't quite. It's more difficult for me to 'receive' than +the notion of the spiritual hand--'tenderly touching.' + +Do you know young Leighton[43] of Rome? If so, you will be glad of this +wonderful success of his picture,[44] bought by the Queen, and applauded +by the Academicians, and he not twenty-five. + +The lady who brought your book did not leave her name here, so of +course she did not _mean_ to be called on. + +Our kindest regards for dear Dr. Braun, and repeated truest thanks to +both of you. Among his discoveries and inventions, he will invent some +day an Aladdin's lamp, and then you will be suddenly potentates, and +vanish in a clap of thunder. + +Till then, think of me sometimes, dearest Madame Braun, as I do of +_you_, and of all your great kindness to me at Rome. + +Ever your affectionate +ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mr. Ruskin_ + +Florence: June 2, 1855. + +My dear Mr. Ruskin,--I believe I shall rather prove in this letter how +my head turns round when I write it, than explain why I didn't write it +before--and so you will go on to think me the most insusceptible and +least grateful of human beings--no small distinction in our bad obtuse +world. Yet the truth is--oh, the truth is, that I am deeply grateful to +you and have felt to the quick of my heart the meaning and kindness of +your words, the worth of your sympathy and praise. One thing especially +which you said, made me thankful that I had been allowed to live to hear +it--since even to fancy that anything I had written could be the means +of the least good to _you_, is worth all the trumpet blowing of a vulgar +fame. Oh, of course, I do not exaggerate, though your generosity does. I +understand the case as it is. We burn straw and it warms us. My verses +catch fire from you as you read them, and so you see them in that light +of your own. But it is something to be used to such an end by such a +man, and I thank you, thank you, and so does my husband, for the deep +pleasure you have given us in the words you have written. + +And why not say so sooner? Just because I wanted to say so fully, and +because I have been crushed into a corner past all elbow-room for doing +anything largely and comfortably, by work and fuss and uncertainty of +various kinds. Now it isn't any better scarcely, though it is quite +fixed now that we are going from Florence to England--no more of the +shadow dancing which is so pretty at the opera and so fatiguing in real +life. We are coming, and have finished most of our preparations; +conducted on a balance of--must we go? _may_ we stay? which is so very +inconvenient. If you knew what it is to give up this still dream-life of +our Florence, where if one is over-busy ever, the old tapestries on the +walls and the pre-Giotto pictures (picked up by my husband for so many +pauls) surround us ready to quiet us again--if you knew what it is to +give it all up and be put into the mill of a dingy London lodging and +ground very small indeed, you wouldn't be angry with us for being sorry +to go north--you wouldn't think it unnatural. As for me, I have all +sorts of pain in England--everything is against me, except a few things; +and yet, while my husband and I groan at one another, strophe and +antistrophe (pardon that rag of Greek!) we admit our compensations--that +it will be an excellent thing, for instance, to see Mr. Ruskin! Are we +likely to undervalue that? + +Let me consider how to answer your questions. My poetry--which you are +so good to, and which you once thought 'sickly,' you say, and why not? +(I have often written sickly poetry, I do not doubt--I have been sickly +myself!)--has been called by much harder names, 'affected' for instance, +a charge I have never deserved, for I do think, if I may say it of +myself, that the desire of speaking or _spluttering_ the real truth out +broadly, may be a cause of a good deal of what is called in me careless +and awkward expression. My friends took some trouble with me at one +time; but though I am not self-willed naturally, as you will find when +you know me, I hope, I never could adopt the counsel urged upon me to +keep in sight always the stupidest person of my acquaintance in order to +clear and judicious forms of composition. Will you set me down as +arrogant, if I say that the longer I live in this writing and reading +world, the more convinced I am that the mass of readers _never_ receive +a poet (you, who are a poet yourself, must surely observe that) without +intermediation? The few understand, appreciate, and distribute to the +multitude below. Therefore to say a thing faintly, because saying it +strongly sounds odd or obscure or unattractive for some reason, to +'careless readers,' does appear to me bad policy as well as bad art. Is +not art, like virtue, to be practised for its own sake first? If we +sacrifice our ideal to notions of immediate utility, would it not be +better for us to write tracts at once? + +Of course any remark of yours is to be received and considered with all +reverence. Only, be sure you please to say, 'Do it differently to +satisfy _me_, John Ruskin,' and not to satisfy Mr., Mrs., and the Miss +and Master Smith of the great majority. The great majority is the +majority of the little, you know, who will come over to you if you don't +think of them--and if they don't, you will bear it. + +Am I pert, do you think? No, _don't_ think it. And the truth is, though +you may not see that, that your praise made me feel very humble. Nay, I +was quite _abashed_ at the idea of the 'illumination' of my poem; and +still I keep winking my eyes at the prospect of so much glory. If you +were a woman, I might say, when one feels ugly one pulls down the +blinds; but as a man you are superior to the understanding of such a +figure, and so I must simply tell you that you honor me over much +indeed. My husband is very much pleased, and particularly pleased that +you selected 'Catarina,' which is his favourite among my poems for some +personal fanciful reasons besides the rest. + +But to go back. I said that any remark of yours was to be received by me +in all reverence; and truth is a part of reverence, so I shall end by +telling you the truth, that I think you quite wrong in your objection to +'nympholept.' Nympholepsy is no more a Greek word than epilepsy, and +nobody would or could object to epilepsy or apoplexy as a Greek word. +It's a word for a specific disease or mania among the ancients, that +mystical passion for an invisible nymph common to a certain class of +visionaries. Indeed, I am not the first in referring to it in English +literature. De Quincey has done so in prose, for instance, and Lord +Byron talks of 'The nympholepsy of a fond despair,' though _he_ never +was accused of being overridden by his Greek. Tell me now if I am not +justified, I also? We are all nympholepts in running after our +ideals--and none more than yourself, indeed! + +Our American friend Mr. Jarves wrote to us full of gratitude and +gratification on account of your kindness to him, for which we also +should thank you. Whether he felt most overjoyed by the clasp of your +hand or that of a disembodied spirit, which he swears was as real (under +the mediumship of Hume, his compatriot), it was somewhat difficult to +distinguish. But all else in England seemed dull and worthless in +comparison with those two 'manifestations,' the spirit's and yours! + +How very very kind of your mother to think of my child! and how happy I +am near the end of my paper, not to be tempted on into 'descriptions' +that 'hold the place of sense.' He is six years old, he reads English +and Italian, and writes without lines, and shall I send you a poem of +his for 'illumination'? His poems are far before mine, the very prattle +of the angels, when they stammer at first and are not sure of the +pronunciation of _e_'s and _i_'s in the spiritual heavens (see +Swedenborg). Really he is a sweet good child, and I am not bearable in +my conceit of him, as you see! My thankful regards to your mother, whom +I shall hope to meet with you, and do yourself accept as much from us +both. + +Most truly yours, +ELIZABETH B. BROWNING. + +We leave Florence next week, and spend at least a week in Paris, 138 +Avenue des Champs-Elysees. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +Florence: June 12, 1855 [postmark]. + +How kind and tender of you, my dearest Sarianna, to care so much to hear +that I am better! I was afraid that Robert had written in the Crimean +style about me, for he was depressed and uneasy, poor darling, and +looked at things from the blackest point of view. Nevertheless, I have +escaped some bad symptoms. No spitting of blood, for instance, no loss +of voice, and scarcely a threatening of pain in the side. Also I have +not grown thinner than is natural under the circumstances. At Genoa +(after our cold journey[45]) I _wasted_ in a few days, and thought much +worse of myself than there was reason to do this time. + +I can assure you I am now much restored. The cough is decidedly got +under, and teases me, for the most part, only in the early morning; the +fever is gone, and the nights are quiet. I am able to take animal food +again, and shall soon recover my ordinary strength. Certainly it has +been a bad attack, and I never suffered anything like it in Italy +before. The illness at Genoa was the mere _tail_ of what began in +England, and was increased by the Alpine exposure. Our weather has been +very severe--wind and frost together--something peculiarly irritating in +the air. I am loth to blame my poor Florence, who never treated me so +before (and how many winters we have spent here!)--and our friends write +from Pisa that the weather was as trying there, while from Rome the +account is simply 'detestable weather.' At Naples it is sometimes +furiously cold; there's no perfect climate anywhere, that's certain. You +have only to choose the least evil. Here for the last week it has been +so mild that, if I had been in my usual state of health, I might have +gone out, they say; and, of course, I have felt the influence +beneficially. One encourages oneself in Italy when it is cold, with the +assurance that it can't last. Our misfortune this time has been that it +has lasted unusually long. How the Italians manage without fires I +cannot make out. So chilly as they are, too, it's a riddle. + +You would wonder almost how I could feel the cold in these two rooms +opening into each other, and from which I have not stirred since the +cold weather began. Robert has kept up the fire in our bedroom +throughout the night. Oh, he has been spoiling me so. If it had not been +that I feared much to hurt him in having him so disturbed and worried, +it would have been a very subtle luxury to me, this being ill and +feeling myself dear. Do not set me down as too selfish. May God bless +him!... + +Robert has been frantic about the Crimea, and 'being disgraced in the +face of Europe,' &c. &c. When he is mild he wishes the ministry to be +torn to pieces in the streets, limb from limb. I do not doubt that the +Aberdeen side of the Cabinet has been greatly to blame, but the system +is the root of the whole evil; if they don't tear up the system they may +tear up the Aberdeens 'world without end,' and not better the matter; if +they do tear up the system, then shall we all have reason to rejoice at +these disasters, apart from our sympathy with individual sufferings. +More good will have been done by this one great shock to the heart of +England than by fifty years' more patching, and pottering, and knocking +impotent heads together. What makes me most angry is the ministerial +apology. 'It's always so with us for three campaigns,'!!! 'it's our +way,' 'it's want of experience,' &c. &c. That's precisely the thing +complained of. As to want of experience, if the French have had Algerine +experiences, we have had our Indian wars, Chinese wars, Caffre wars, and +military and naval expenses _exceeding_ those of France from year to +year. If our people had never had to pay for an army, they might sit +down quietly under the taunt of wanting experience. But we have +soldiers, and soldiers should have military education as well as red +coats, and be led by properly qualified officers, instead of Lord +Nincompoop's youngest sons. As it is in the army, so it is in the State. +Places given away, here and there, to incompetent heads; nobody being +responsible, no unity of idea and purpose anywhere--the individual +interest always in the way of the general good. There is a noble heart +in our people, strong enough if once roused, to work out into light and +progression, and correct all these evils. Robert is a good deal struck +by the generous tone of the observations of the French press, as +contradistinguished from the insolences of the Americans, who really are +past enduring just now. Certain of our English friends here in Florence +have ceased to associate with them on that ground. I think there's a +good deal of jealousy about the French alliance. That may account for +something.... + +Dearest, kindest Sarianna, remember not to think any more about me, +except that I love you, that I am your attached + +BA. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[15] _Life and Letters of Robert Browning_, by Mrs. Sutherland Orr, p. +216. + +[16] The late Earl Lytton. + +[17] Auguste Brizieux + +[18] _Uncle Tom's Cabin_, published in 1852. + +[19] Mrs. Jameson's _Legends of the Madonna_. + +[20] General Franklin Pierce. + +[21] 'Tamerton Church Tower, and other Poems.' + +[22] In a letter to Miss Mitford, written four days later than this, +Mrs. Browning alludes again to the performance of 'Colombe's Birthday:' +'Yes--Robert's play succeeded, but there could be no "run" for a play of +that kind; it was a _succes d'estime_ and something more, which is +surprising, perhaps, considering the miserable acting of the men. Miss +Faucit was alone in doing us justice.' + +[23] A few lines have been cut off the letter at this place. + +[24] A letter to the _Athenaeum_ on July 2, 1853, giving the result of +some experiments in table-turning, the tendency of which was to show +that the motion of the table was due to unconscious muscular action on +the part of the persons touching the table. + +[25] Senatore Villari. + +[26] Mr. George Barrett. The omitted passage describes an act of +generosity by him to one of his younger brothers. + +[27] Hardly a successful horoscope of the future Ambassador at Paris and +Viceroy of India. + +[28] Afterwards wife of Signor Carlo Botta, an Italian man of letters, +with whom she returned to America and lived in New York. + +[29] This refers to the death of the infant child of the Storys, with +whom Mr. and Mrs. Browning were on intimate terms of friendship, as the +previous letters show. + +[30] According to Mr. R.B. Browning, this is practically what has +happened with Page's portrait of Robert Browning (now in Venice). The +surface has become thick and waxy, and the portrait has almost +disappeared. + +[31] Author of 'IX. Poems, by V.' (1840). + +[32] This portrait is now in the possession of Mr. R.B. Browning at +Venice. + +[33] _I.e._ 'grandfather,' a name by which Mr. Browning, senior, is +frequently referred to in these letters. + +[34] 'Hush, hush!' + +[35] For the subsequent fate of this picture, see note on p. 148, above. +[Transcriber's note: Reference is to Footnote [30].] + +[36] To Mr. Barrett. + +[37] This letter is written in very faint ink. + +[38] The news of Inkerman had come only a few days before. + +[39] Mrs. Browning's 'Song for the Ragged Schools of London' (_Poetical +Works_, iv. 270) and her husband's 'The Twins' were printed together as +a small pamphlet for sale at Miss Arabella Barrett's bazaar. Mrs. +Browning's poem had been written before they left Rome. + +[40] The horrors of the Crimean winter were now becoming known, which +fully accounts for this outburst. + +[41] The death of Mrs. Jameson's husband in 1854 had left her in very +straitened circumstances, which were ultimately relieved, in part, by a +subscription among her friends and the admirers of her works. + +[42] Dr. Braun's _Ruins and Museums of Rome_ (1854). + +[43] The late Lord Leighton, P.R.A. + +[44] The picture of Cimabue's Madonna carried in procession through the +streets of Florence. It was exhibited in the Royal Academy Exhibition of +1855, and was bought by the Queen. + +[45] In 1852. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +1855-1859 + + +About a month after the date of the last letter, Mr. and Mrs. Browning +left Italy for the second time. As on the previous occasion (1851-2), +their absence extended over two summers and a winter, the latter being +spent in Paris, while portions of each summer were given up to visits to +England. Each of them was bringing home an important work for +publication, Mr. Browning's 'Men and Women,' containing much of his very +greatest poetry, being passed through the press in 1855, while Mrs. +Browning's 'Aurora Leigh,' although more than half of it had been +written before she left Florence, was not ready for printing until the +following year. They travelled direct from Florence to London, arriving +there apparently in the course of July, and taking up their quarters at +13 Dorset Street. Their stay there was made memorable, as Mrs. Browning +records below, by a visit from Tennyson, who read to them, on September +27, his new poem of 'Maud;' and it was while he was thus employed that +Rossetti drew a well-known portrait of the Laureate in pen and ink. But +in spite of glimpses of Tennyson, Ruskin, Carlyle, Kenyon, and other +friends, the visit to England was, on the whole, a painful one to Mrs. +Browning. Intercourse with her own family did not run smooth. One sister +was living at too great a distance to see her; the other was kept out of +her reach, for a considerable part of the time, by her father. In +addition, a third member of the Barrett family, her brother Alfred, +earned excommunication from his father's house by the unforgivable +offence of matrimony. Altogether it was not without a certain feeling of +relief that, in the middle of October, Mrs. Browning, with her husband +and child, left England for Paris. The whole visit had been so crowded +with work and social engagements as to leave little time for +correspondence; and the letters for the period are consequently few and +short. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +13 Dorset Street, Baker Street: +Tuesday, [July-August 1855]. + +My dearest Mrs. Martin,--I have waited days and days in the answering of +your dear, kind, welcoming letter, and yet I have been very very +grateful for it. Thank you. I need such things in England above other +places. + +For the rest, we could not go to Herefordshire, even if I were rational, +which I am not; I could as soon open a coffin as do it: there's the +truth. The place is nothing to me, of course, only the string round a +faggot burnt or scattered. But if I went there, the thought of _one +face_ which never ceases to be present with me (and which I parted from +for ever in my poor blind unconsciousness with a pettish word) would +rise up, put down all the rest, and prevent my having one moment of +ordinary calm intercourse with you, so don't ask me; set it down to +mania or obstinacy, but I never _could_ go into that neighbourhood, +except to die, which I think sometimes I should like. So you may have me +some day when the physicians give me up, but then, you won't, you know, +and it wouldn't, any way, be merry visiting. + +Foolish to write all this! As if any human being could know thoroughly +what _he_ was to me. It must seem so extravagant, and perhaps affected, +even to _you_, who are large-hearted and make allowances. After these +years! + +And, after all, I might have just said the other truth, that we are at +the end of our purse, and can't travel any more, not even to Taunton, +where poor Henrietta, who is hindered from coming to me by a like +pecuniary straitness, begs so hard that we should go. Also, we are bound +to London by business engagements; a book in the press (Robert's two +volumes), and _proofs_ coming in at all hours. We have been asked to two +or three places at an hour's distance from London, and can't stir; to +Knebworth, for instance, where Sir Edward Lytton wants us to go. It +would be amusing in some ways; but we are tired. Also Robert's sister is +staying with us. + +Also, we shall see you in Paris on the way to Pau next November, shall +we not? Write and tell me that we shall, and that you are not disgusted +with me meanwhile. + +Do you know our news? Alfred is just married at the Paris Embassy to +Lizzie Barrett.... Of course, he makes the third exile from Wimpole +Street, the course of true love running remarkably rough in our house. +For the rest, there have been no _scenes_, I thank God, for dearest +Arabel's sake. He had written to my father nine or ten days before the +ceremony, received no answer, and followed up the silence rather briskly +by another letter to announce his marriage.... I am going to write to +him at Marseilles. + +You cannot imagine to yourself the unsatisfactory and disheartening +turmoil in which we are at present. It's the mad bull and the china +shop, and, _nota bene_, we are the china shop. People want to see if +Italy has cut off our noses, or what! A very kind anxiety certainly, but +so horribly fatiguing that my heart sinks, and my brain goes round under +the process. O my Florence! how much better you are! + +Have you heard that Wilson is married to a Florentine who lived once +with the Peytons, and is here now with us, a good, tender-hearted +man?[46] + +I am tolerably well, though to breathe this heavy air always strikes me +as difficult; and my little Penini is very well, thank God. I want so +much to show him to you. We shall be here till the end of September, if +the weather admits of it, then go to Paris for the winter, then return +to London, and then--why, _that_ 'then' is too far off to see. Only we +talk of Italy in the distance. + +My book is not ready for the press yet; and as to writing here, who +could produce an epic in the pauses of a summerset? Not that my poem is +an epic, I hurry on to say in consideration for dear Mr. Martin's +feelings. I flatter myself it's a _novel_, rather, a sort of novel in +verse. Arabel looks well. + +What pens! What ink! Do write, and tell me of _you both_. I love you +cordially indeed. + +Your ever affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +13 Dorset Street: Tuesday, [July-August 1855]. + +My dearest Mona Nina,--I write to you in the midst of so much fatigue +and unsatisfactory turmoil, that I feel I shall scarcely be articulate +in what I say. Still, it must be tried, for I can't have you think that +I have come to London to forget you, much less to be callous to the +influence of this dear affectionate letter of yours. May God bless you! +How sorry I am that you should have vexation on the top of more serious +hurts to depress you. Indeed, if it were not for the _other side of the +tapestry_, it would seem not at all worth while for us to stand putting +in more weary Gobelin stitches (till we turn into goblins) day after +day, year after year, in this sad world. For my part, I am ready at +melancholy with anybody. The air, mentally or physically considered, is +very heavy for me here, and I long for the quiet of my Florence, where +somehow it always has gone best with my life. As to England, it affects +me so, in body, soul, and circumstances, that if I could not get away +soon, I should be provoked, I think, into turning monster and _hating_ +the whole island, which shocks you so to hear, that you will be provoked +into not loving me, perhaps, and _that_ would really be too hard, after +all. + +The best news I can give you is that Robert has printed the first half +volume of his poems, and that the work looks better than ever in print, +as all true work does brought into the light. He has read these proofs +to Mr. Fox (of Oldham), who gives an opinion that the poems are at the +top of art in their kind. I don't know whether you care for Mr. Fox's +opinion, but it's worth more than mine, of course, on the ground of +_impartiality_, to say no otherwise, and it will disappoint me much if +you don't confirm both of us presently. The poems, for variety, +vitality, and intensity, are quite worthy of the writer, it seems to me, +and a clear advance in certain respects on his previous productions. + +Has 'Maud' penetrated to you? The winding up is magnificent, full of +power, and there are beautiful thrilling bits before you get so far. +Still, there is an appearance of labour in the early part; the language +is rather encrusted by skill than spontaneously blossoming, and the +rhythm is not always happy. The poet seems to aim at more breadth and +freedom, which he attains, but at the expense of his characteristic +delicious music. People in general appear very unfavourably impressed by +this poem, _very unjustly_, Robert and I think. On some points it is +even an advance. The sale is great, _nearly five thousand copies +already_. + +Let me see what London news I have to tell you. We spent an evening with +Mr. Ruskin, who was gracious and generous, and strengthened all my good +impressions. Robert took our friend young Leighton to see him +afterwards, and was as kindly received. We met Carlyle at Mr. Forster's, +and found him in great force, particularly in the damnatory clauses. Mr. +Kinglake we saw twice at the Procters', and once here.... The Procters +are very well. How I like Adelaide's face! that's a face worth a drove +of beauties! Dear Mrs. Sartoris has just left London, I grieve to say; +and so has Mrs. Kemble, who (let me say it quick in a parenthesis) is +looking quite magnificent just now, with those gorgeous eyes of hers. +Mr. Kenyon, too, has vanished--gone with his brother to the Isle of +Wight. The weather has been very uncertain, cloudy, misty, and rainy, +with heavy air, ever since we came. Ferdinando keeps saying, 'Povera +gente, che deve vivere in questo posto,' and Penini catches it up, and +gives himself immense airs, discoursing about Florentine skies and the +glories of the Cascine to anyone who will listen. The child is well, +thank God, and in great spirits, which is my comfort. I found my dear +sister Arabel, too, well, and it is deep yet sad joy to me to look in +her precious loving eyes, which never failed me, nor could. Henrietta +will be hindered, perhaps, from coming to see me by want of means, poor +darling; and the same cause will keep me from going to Taunton. We have +a quantity of invitations to go into the country, to the Custs, to the +Martins, &c. &c., and (one which rather tempts _me_) to Knebworth, Sir +Edward Lytton having written us the kindest of possible invitations; but +none of these things are for us, I see. + +Dearest friend, I do hope you won't go to Rome this winter. When you +have been to Vienna, come back, and let us have you in Paris. I am glad +Lady Elgin liked the book. The history of it was that she asked Robert +to get it for her, and he _presented_ it instead. + +Our M. Milsand likes you much, he says, and I like you to hear it.... + +Oh, we read your graceful, spirited letter in the 'Athenaeum.' By the +way, did you see the absurd exposition of 'Maud' as an allegory? What +pure madness, instead of Maudness! + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +13 Dorset Street: Monday, [August-September 1855]. + +Day after day, my dearest Mrs. Martin, I have been meaning to write to +you, always in vain, and now I hear from Mrs. Ormus Biddulph that you +are not quite well. How is this? Shall I hear soon that you are better? +I want something to cheer me up a little. The bull is out of the china +shop, certainly, but the broken pottery doesn't enjoy itself much the +more for that. I have lost my Arabel (my one light in London), who has +had to go away to Eastbourne; very vexed at it, dear darling, though she +really required change of air. We, for our parts, are under promise to +follow her in a week, as it will be on our way to Paris, and not cost us +many shillings over the expenses of the direct route. But the days drag +themselves out, and there remains so much work (on proof sheets, &c.) to +be done here, that I despond of our being able to move as soon as I fain +would. I assure you I am stuffed as hard as a cricket ball with the work +of every day, and I have waited in vain for a clear hour to write +quietly and comfortably to you, in order to say how your letter touched +me, dear dear friend. You always understand. Your sympathy stretches +_beyond_ points of agreement, which is so rare and so precious, and +makes one feel so unspeakably grateful.... + +London has emptied itself, as you may suppose, by this time. Mrs. Ormus +Biddulph was so kind as to wish us to dine with them on Monday (to-day), +but we found it absolutely impossible. The few engagements we make we +don't keep, and I shall try for the future to avoid perjury. As it is, I +have no doubt that various people have set me down as 'full of arrogance +and assumption,' at which the gods must laugh, for really, if truths +could be known, I feel even morbidly humble just now, and could show my +sackcloth with anybody's sackcloth. But it is difficult to keep to the +conventions rigidly, and return visits to the hour, and hold engagements +to the minute, when one has neither carriage, nor legs, nor time at +one's disposal, which is my case. If I don't at once answer (for +instance) such a letter as you sent me, I must be a beggar.... + +May God bless you both, my very dear friends! My husband bids me +remember him to you in cordial regard. I long to see you, and to hear +(first) that you are well. + +Dearest Mrs. Martin's ever attached +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +13 Dorset Street: Tuesday, [October 1855]. + +My dearest Mrs. Martin,--I can't go without writing to you, but I am +ground down with last things to do on last days, and it must be a word +only. Dearest friend, I have waited morning after morning for a clear +half-hour, because I didn't like to do your bidding and write briefly, +though now, after all, I am reduced to it. We leave England to-morrow, +and shall sleep (D.V.) at 102 _Rue de Grenelle, Faubourg St. Germain, +Paris_,--I am afraid in a scarcely convenient apartment, which a zealous +friend, in spite of our own expressed opinion, secured for us for the +term of six months, because of certain yellow satin furniture which only +she could consider 'worthy of us.' We shall probably have to dress on +the staircase, but what matter? There's the yellow satin to fall back +upon. + +If the rooms are not tenable, we must underlet them, or try.... + +One of the pleasantest things which has happened to us here is the +coming down on us of the Laureate, who, being in London for three or +four days from the Isle of Wight, spent two of them with us, dined with +us, smoked with us, opened his heart to us (and the second bottle of +port), and ended by reading 'Maud' through from end to end, and going +away at half-past two in the morning. If I had had a heart to spare, +certainly he would have won mine. He is captivating with his frankness, +confidingness, and unexampled _naivete_! Think of his stopping in 'Maud' +every now and then--'There's a wonderful touch! That's very tender. How +beautiful that is!' Yes, and it _was_ wonderful, tender, beautiful, and +he read exquisitely in a voice like an organ, rather music than speech. + +War, war! It is terrible certainly. But there are worse plagues, deeper +griefs, dreader wounds than the physical. What of the forty thousand +wretched women in this city? The silent writhing of them is to me more +appalling than the roar of the cannons. Then this war is _necessary_ on +our sides. Is _that_ wrong necessary? It is not so clear to me. + +Can I write of such questions in the midst of packing? + +May God bless you both! Write to me in Paris, and do come soon and find +us out. + +Robert's love. My love to you both, dearest friends. May God bless you! +Your ever affectionate + +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mr. Ruskin_ + +13 Dorset Street: +Tuesday morning, October 17, 1855 [postmark]. + +My dear Mr. Ruskin,--I can't express our amount of mortification in +being thwarted in the fulfilment of the promise you allowed us to make +to ourselves, that we would go down to you once more before leaving +England. What with the crush rather than press of circumstances, I have +scarcely needed the weather to pin me to the wall. Sometimes my husband +could not go with me, sometimes I couldn't go with him, and always we +waited for one another in hope, till this last day overtook us. +To-morrow (D.V.) we shall be in Paris. Now, will you believe how we have +wished and longed to see you beyond these strait tantalising +limits?--how you look to us at this moment like the phantasm of a thing +dear and desired, just seen and vanishing? What! are you to be ranked +among my spiritualities after all? Forgive me that wrong. + +Then you had things to say to me, I know, which in your consideration, +and through my cowardice, you did not say, but yet will! + +Will you write to me, dear Mr. Ruskin, sometimes, or have I disgusted +you so wholly that you won't or can't? + +Once, I know, somewhat because of shyness and somewhat because of +intense apprehension--somewhat, too, through characteristic stupidity +(no contradiction this!)--I said I was grateful to you when you had just +bade me not. Well, I really couldn't help it. That's all I can say now. +Even if your appreciation were perfectly deserved at all points, why, +appreciation means sympathy, and sympathy being the best gift nearly +which one human creature can give another, I don't understand (I never +could) why it does not deserve thanks. I am stupid perhaps, but for my +life I never could help being grateful to the people who loved me, even +if they happened to say, 'I can't help it! not I!' + +As for Mr. Ruskin, he sees often in his own light. That's what I see and +feel. + +Will you write to me sometimes? I come back to it. Will you, though I am +awkward and shy and obstinate now and then, and a wicked spiritualist to +wit--a _realist_ in an out-of-the-world sense--accepting matter as a +means (no matter for it otherwise!)? + +Don't give me up, dear Mr. Ruskin! My husband's truest regards, and +farewell from both of us! I would fain be + +Your affectionate friend, +ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. + +Our address in Paris will be, _102 Rue de Grenelle, Faubourg St. +Germain_. + + * * * * * + + +The house in the Rue de Grenelle, however, did not prove a success, in +spite of the consolations of the yellow satin, and after six weeks of +discomfort and house-hunting the Brownings moved to 3 Rue de Colisee, +which became their home for the next eight months. It was a period, +first of illness caused by the unsuitable rooms, and then of hard work +for Mrs. Browning, who was engaged in completing 'Aurora Leigh,' while +her husband was less profitably employed in the attempt to recast +'Sordello' into a more intelligible form. No such incident as the visits +to George Sand marked this stay in Paris, and politics were in a very +much less exciting state. The Crimean war was just coming to a close, +and public opinion in England was far from satisfied with the conduct of +its ally; but on the whole the times were uneventful. + +The first letter from Paris has, however, a special interest as +containing a very full estimate of the character and genius of Mrs. +Browning's dear friend, Miss Mitford. It is addressed to Mr. Ruskin, who +had been unceasingly attentive and helpful to Miss Mitford during her +declining days. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mr. Ruskin_ + +Paris, 102 Rue de Grenelle, Faubourg St. Germain: +November 5, [1855]. + +My dear Mr. Ruskin,--I thank you from my heart for your more than +interesting letter. You have helped me to see that dear friend of ours, +as without you I could not have seen her, in those last affecting days +of illness, by the window not only of the house in Berkshire, but of the +house of the body and of the material world--an open window through +which the light shone, thank God. It would be a comfort to me now if I +had had the privilege of giving her a very very little of the great +pleasure you certainly gave her (for I know how she enjoyed your +visit--she wrote and told me), but I must be satisfied with the thought +left to me, that now _she_ regrets nothing, not even great pleasures. + +I agree with you in much if not in everything you have written of her. +It was a great, warm, outflowing heart, and the head was worthy of the +heart. People have observed that she resembled Coleridge in her granite +forehead--something, too, in the lower part of the face--however unlike +Coleridge in mental characteristics, in his tendency to abstract +speculation, or indeed his ideality. There might have been, as you +suggest, a somewhat different development elsewhere than in +Berkshire--not very different, though--souls don't grow out of the +ground. + +I agree quite with you that she was stronger and wider in her +conversation and letters than in her books. Oh, I have said so a hundred +times. The heat of human sympathy seemed to bring out her powerful +vitality, rustling all over with laces and flowers. She seemed to think +and speak stronger holding a hand--not that she required help or +borrowed a word, but that the human magnetism acted on her nature, as it +does upon men born to speak. Perhaps if she had been a man with a man's +opportunities, she would have spoken rather than written a reputation. +Who can say? She hated the act of composition. Did you hear that from +her ever? + +Her letters were always admirable, but I do most deeply regret that what +made one of their greatest charms unfits them for the public--I mean +their personal details. Mr. Harness sends to me for letters, and when I +bring them up, and with the greatest pain force myself to examine them +(all those letters she wrote to me in her warm goodness and +affectionateness), I find with wonder and sorrow how only a half-page +here and there _could_ be submitted to general readers--_could_, with +any decency, much less delicacy. + +But no, her 'judgment' was not 'unerring.' She was too intensely +sympathetical not to err often, and in fact it was singular (or seemed +so) what faces struck her as most beautiful, and what books as most +excellent. If she loved a person, it was enough. She made mistakes one +couldn't help smiling at, till one grew serious to adore her for it. And +yet when she read a book, provided it wasn't written by a friend, edited +by a friend, lent by a friend, or associated with a friend, her judgment +could be fine and discriminating on most subjects, especially upon +subjects connected with life and society and manners. Shall I confess? +She never taught _me_ anything but a very limited admiration of Miss +Austen, whose people struck me as wanting souls, even more than is +necessary for men and women of the world. The novels are perfect as far +as they go--that's certain. Only they don't go far, I think. It may be +my fault. + +You lay down your finger and stop me, and exclaim that it's my way +perhaps to attribute a leaning of the judgment through personal sympathy +to people in general--that I do it perhaps to _you_. No, indeed. I can +quite easily believe that you don't either think or say 'the pleasantest +things to your friends;' in fact, I am sure you don't. You would say +them as soon to your enemies--perhaps sooner. Also, when you began to +say pleasant things to me, you hadn't a bit of personal feeling to make +a happy prejudice of, and really I can't flatter myself that you have +now. What I meant was that you, John Ruskin, not being a critic _sal +merum_ as the ancients had it, but half critic, and half poet, may be +rather encumbered sometimes by the burning imagination in you, may be +apt sometimes, when you turn the light of your countenance on a thing, +to see the thing lighted up as a matter of course, just as we, when we +carried torches into the Vatican, were not perfectly clear how much we +brought to that wonderful Demosthenes, folding the marble round him in +its thousand folds--how much we brought, and how much we received. Was +it the sculptor or was it the torch-bearer who produced that effect? And +like doubts I have had of you, I confess, and not only when you have +spoken kindly of _me_. You don't mistake by your heart, through loving, +but you exaggerate by your imagination, through glorifying. There's my +thought at least. + +But what I meant by 'apprehending too intensely,' dear Mr. Ruskin, don't +ask me. Really I have forgotten. I suppose I did mean something, though +it was a day of chaos and packing boxes--try to think I did therefore, +and let it pass. + +You please me--oh, so much--by the words about my husband. When you +wrote to praise my poems, of course I had to bear it--I couldn't turn +round and say, 'Well, and why don't you praise him, who is worth twenty +of me? Praise my second Me, as well as my Me proper, if you please.' +One's forced to be rather decent and modest for one's husband as well as +for one's self, even if it's harder. I couldn't pull at your coat to +read 'Pippa Passes,' for instance. I can't now. + +But you have put him on the shelf, so we have both taken courage to send +you his new volumes, 'Men and Women,' not that you may say 'pleasant +things' of them or think yourself bound to say anything indeed, but that +you may accept them as a sign of the esteem and admiration of both of +us. I consider them on the whole an advance upon his former poems, and +am ready to die at the stake for my faith in these last, even though the +discerning public should set it down afterwards as only a 'Heretic's +Tragedy.' + +Our friend Mr. Jarves came to read a part of your letter to us, +confirmatory of doctrines he had heard from us on an earlier day. The +idea of your writing the art criticisms of the 'Leader' (!) was so +stupendously ludicrous, there was no need of faith in your loyalty to +laugh the whole imputation, at first hearing, to uttermost scorn. I must +say, in justice to Mr. Jarves, that he never did really believe one word +of it, though a good deal ruffled and pained that it should have been +believed by anybody. He is full of admiring and grateful feeling for +you, and has gone on to Italy in that mind. + +As for me, I almost yearn to go too. We have fallen into a pit here in +Paris, upon evil days and rooms, an impulsive friend having taken an +apartment for us facing the east, insufficiently protected, and with a +bedroom wanting, so that we are still waiting, with trunks unpacked, and +our child sleeping on the floor, till we can get emancipated anyhow. +Then, through the last week's cold, I have not been well--only it will +not, I think, be much, as I am better already, and there will be no +practical end to the talk of Nice and Pau, which my husband had begun a +little. All this has hindered me from following my first impulse of +thanking you for your letter immediately. + +How beautiful Paris is, and how I agree with you, as we both did with +dear Miss Mitford, on the subject of Louis Napoleon. I approve of him +_exactly because_ I am a democrat, and not at all for an exceptional +reason. I hold that the most democratical government in Europe is out +and out the French Government (which doesn't exclude the absolutist +element, far from it); but who in England understands this? and that the +representative man of France, the incarnate republic, is the man Louis +Napoleon? An extraordinary man he is. I never was a Buonapartist, though +the legend of the First Napoleon has wrung tears from me before now, and +I was very sorry when Louis Napoleon was elected instead of Cavaignac. +At the _coup d'etat_ I was not sorry. And since then I have believed in +him more and more. + +So far in sympathy. In regard to the slaves, no, no, no; I belong to a +family of West Indian slaveholders, and if I believed in curses, I +should be afraid. I can at least thank God that I am not an American. +How you look serenely at slavery, I cannot understand, and I distrust +your power to explain. Do you indeed? + +Dear Mr. Ruskin, do let us hear from you sometimes. It is such a great +gift, a letter of yours. Then remember that I am a spirit in prison all +the winter, not able to stir out. Up to this time we have lived _perdus_ +from all our acquaintances because of our misfortunes. With my husband's +cordial regards, I remain most truly yours always, + +ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. + +The publishers are directed to send you the volumes on their +publication. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +[Paris] 3 Rue du Colisee, Avenue des Champs-Elysees: +Saturday, December 17, 1855 [postmark]. + +How pleasant, dearest Mona Nina, to hear you, though the voice sounds +far! Try and come back to us soon, and let us talk, or listen, rather, +to your talking. Why shouldn't _I_, too, have a sister of charity, like +others? I appeal to you. + +Still, I have only good to tell you of myself. I am better through the +better weather and through our arrival in this apartment, where, as +Robert says, we are as pleased as if we had never lived in a house +before. Well, I assure you the rooms are perfect in comfort and +convenience; not large, but _warm_, and of a number and arrangement +which exclude all fault-finding. Clean, carpeted; no glitter, nothing +very pretty--not even the clocks--but with sofas and chairs suited to +lollers such as one of us, and altogether what I mean whenever I say +that an 'apartment' on the Continent is twenty times more really +'comfortable' than any of your small houses in England. Robert has a +room to himself too. It's perfect. I hop about from one side to the +other, like a bird in a new cage. The feathers are draggled and rough, +though. I am not strong, though the cough is quieter without the least +doubt. + +And this time also I shall not die, perhaps. Indeed, I do think not. + +That darling Robert carried me into the carriage, swathed past possible +breathing, over face and respirator in woollen shawls. No, he wouldn't +set me down even to walk up the fiacre steps, but shoved me in upside +down, in a struggling bundle--I struggling for breath--he accounting to +the concierge for 'his murdered man' (rather woman) in a way which threw +me into fits of laughter afterwards to remember. 'Elle se porte tres +bien! elle se porte extremement bien. Ce n'est rien que les poumons.' +Nothing but lungs! No air in them, which was the worst! Think how the +concierge must have wondered ever since about 'cet original d'Anglais,' +and the peculiar way of treating wives when they are in excellent +health. 'Sacre.' + +Kind Madame Mohl was here to-day, asking about you; and the Aides, male +and female, whom we did not see, being at dinner; and dear Lady Elgin +came to the door in her wheel-chair. + +We keep Penini (in a bed this time) in our bedroom. He was so pathetic +about it, we would not lose him. + +Write to us, keep writing to us, till you come. I think much of you, +wish much for you, and feel much _with_ you. May God bless you, my dear +dear friend! The frost broke up on Thursday, and it is raining warmly +to-day; but I can't believe in the possibility of the cold penetrating +much into this house under worse circumstances; and I shall be bold, and +try hard to begin writing next week. + +Oh! George Sand. How magnificent that eighteenth volume is; I mean the +volume which concludes with the views upon the _sexes_! After all, and +through all, if her hands are ever so defiled, that woman has a clean +soul. + +On the magnetic subjects, too, her 'je ne sais' is worthy of her. And +yet, more is to be known I am sure, than she knows. + +I read this book so eagerly and earnestly that I seem to burn it up +before me. Really there are great things in it. + +And to hear people talking it over coldly, pulling it leaf from leaf! + +Robert quite joins with me at last. He is intensely interested, and full +of admiration. + +Now do write. With our united love, we are ever yours, be certain! + +R.B. and E.B.B. + +Remember not to agree to do the etching. Pray be careful not to involve +the precious eyes too much. How easy it would be to etch them out! +Frightfully easy. + + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss E.F. Haworth_ + +[Paris] 3: Rue du Colisee: +Monday, January 29, 1856 [postmark]. + +Dearest Fanny,--I can't get over it that you should fancy I meant to +'banter' you.[47] If I wrote lightly, it was partly that _you_ wrote +lightly, and partly perhaps because at bottom I wasn't light at all. +When one feels out of spirits, it's the most natural thing possible to +be extravagantly gay; now, isn't it? + +And now believe me with what truth and earnestness of heart I am +interested in all that concerns you; and this is every woman's chief +concern, of course, this great fact of love and marriage. My advice is, +be sure of him _first_, and of yourself _chiefly_. For the rest I would +marry ('if I were a woman,' I was going to say), though the whole world +spouted fire in my face. Marriage is a personal matter, be sure, and the +nearest and wisest can't judge for you. If you can make up two hundred a +year between you, or less even, there is no pecuniary obstacle in my +eyes. People may live very cheaply and very happily if they are happy +otherwise. + +As for me, my only way was to cut the knot--because it was an untieable +knot--and because my fingers generally are not strong at untieing. What +do you mean by Mr. Kenyon's backing me? Nobody backed me except the +north wind which blew us vehemently out of England. Mr. Kenyon knew no +more of the affair than you did, though he was very kind afterwards and +took my part. And as to money, there was (and is) little enough. It was +a case of pure madness (for people of the world), just like table-moving +and spirit-rapping and the 'hands'! + +But you, my dear friend, I do earnestly entreat you to consider if you +are sure of principles, sentiment--and _of yourself_. Because, whether +you know it or not, you are happily situated _now_ as far as exterior +circumstances are concerned. They are not worth much, but they have +their worth. They give you liberty to follow your own devices, to think +the beautiful and feel the noble; to live out, in short, your individual +life, which it is so hard to do in marriage, even where you marry +worthily. + +I say this probably 'as one who beateth the air;' yet you _must_ +consider that I who say it, and who say it _emphatically_, consider a +happy marriage as the happiest state, and that all pecuniary reasons +against love are both ineffectual and _stupid_. + +Flippancy, flippancy, of course. London would be better (for your +friends) as a residence for you, than Wittemberg can be; and for that, +and no other account, I could be sorry that you did not settle _so_. + +Well, never mind! The description sounds excellently; almost +over-romantic, though. Is there steadiness, do you think, and depth, and +reliableness altogether? What impression does he make among those who +have known him longest? Dearest Fanny, do nothing in haste. + +Now I am going to tell you something which has vexed me, and continues +to vex me. The clock. If you knew Robert, you never would have asked +him. He has a sort of mania about shops, and won't buy his own gloves. +He bought a pair of boots the other day (because I went down on my knees +to ask him, and the water was running in through his soles), and he will +not soon get over it. Without exaggeration, he would rather leap down +among the lions after your glove, as the knight of old, than walk into a +shop for you. If I could but go out, there would be no difficulties; but +I am shut up in my winter prison, in spite of the extraordinarily mild +weather, through having suffered so much in the beginning of the winter. +I asked Sarianna; she also shrinks from the responsibility; is afraid of +not pleasing you, &c. The end of it all is that Mrs. Haworth will think +us all very disobliging barbarians, and that really I am vexed. Why not +ask Mrs. Cochrane to get the thing for you? You can but ask, at any +rate. + +I am very anxious just now about dear Mr. Kenyon, who has been +alarmingly ill, and is only better, I fear. Miss Bayley wrote to tell +me, and added that he was going to Cowes when he could move, which +pleases me; for only change of air and liberation from London air can +complete his convalescence. + +For the rest, I am busy beyond description; but never too much so, mind, +dear Fanny, to be glad to get your letters. Write soon. Your ever +affectionate + +E.B.B. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +[Paris]: 3 Rue du Colisee: February 21, [1856]. + +My dearest Mrs. Martin,--I should have answered your note days ago! If +you saw how I am in a plague of industry just now, and not a moment +unspotted!--how, for instance, I kept an 'Examiner' newspaper (sent to +us from London) three days on the table before I could read it,--you +would make an allowance for me. It's a sort of _furia_! I must get over +so much writing, or I shall be too late for the summer's printing. If it +isn't done by June, what will become of me? I shall go back to Italy in +disgrace, and considerably poorer than I need be, which is of more +practical consequence. So I fag. Then there's an hour and a half in the +morning for Penini's lessons. We breakfast at nine, and receive nobody +till past four. This will all prove to you two things, dearest +friend--first (I hope) that I'm pardonable for making you wait a few +days longer than should have been, and secondly that I'm tolerably well. +Yes, indeed. Since our arrival in this house, after just the first, when +there was some frost, we have had such a miraculous mildness under the +name of winter, that I rallied as a matter of course, and for the last +month there has been no return of the spitting of blood, and no +extravagance of cough. I have persisted with cod's liver oil, and I look +by no means ill, people assure me, and so I may assure _you_. But I am +not very strong, and was a good deal tired after a two hours' drive +which I ventured on a week ago in the Bois de Boulogne. The small rooms, +and deficiency of air resulting from them, make a long shutting up a +more serious thing than I find it in Florence in our acres of apartment. +But it is easy to mend strength when only strength is to be mended, and +I, for one, get strong again easily. I only hope that the cold is not +returning. The air was sharp yesterday and is to-day; but it's +February, and the spring is at the doors, and we may hope with +reason.... + +What do you say of the peace as a final peace? You are not at least +vexed, as so many English are, that we can't fight a little for glory to +reinstate our reputation. You'll excuse that. Still, I can't help +feeling disappointed in the peace--chiefly, perhaps, because I hoped too +much from the war. Will nothing be done after all for Italy? nothing for +Poland? + +You want books. Read About's 'Tolla.' He is a new writer, and his book +is exquisite as a transcript of Italian manners. Then read Octave +Feuillet. There is much in him. + +Will there be war with America, dear Mr. Martin? Never will I believe it +till I hear the cannons. + +Talking of what we should believe, it appears that Mrs. Trollope has +thrown over Hume[48] from some failure in his moral character in +Florence. I have had many letters on the subject. I have no doubt that +the young man, who is weak and vain, and was exposed to gross flatteries +from the various unwise coteries at Florence who took him up, deserves +to be thrown over. But his _mediumship_ is undisproved, as far as I can +understand. It is simply a physical faculty--he is quite an electric +wire. At Florence everybody is quarrelling with everybody on the +subject. I thought I would tell you. + +Penini, the pet, is radiant, and learning French triumphantly. May God +bless you! Write to me, dearest Mrs. Martin, and tell me of both of you. +Robert's love. + +Your ever, ever affectionate +BA. + + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +[Paris]: 3 Rue du Colisee: February 28, 1856 [postmark]. + +My dearest Mona Nina,--Three letters, one on the top of another, and I +don't answer. Shame on me. How I have thought of you, to make up! And +you write to apologise to _us_, from a dreamy mystical apprehension that +we may peradventure have lost eightpence on your account! Well, it would +have been awful if we had. And so Providence interposed with a special +miracle, and obliged the officials to accept the actual penny stamp for +the fourpenny stamp you meant to put, and _we paid just nothing for the +terrible letter_! Take heart, therefore, in future, before all +hypothetical misfortunes. That's the moral of the tale.... + +My dear friend, how shall I pull you and make you come to Paris? Madame +de Triqueti was here the other day, and spoke of you, and swore she +wouldn't help to take rooms for you, unless you came near _her_. As to +the two rooms you speak of, I am sure you might have what rooms you +pleased now, in this neighbourhood. What would you give? Our present +apartment is comfort itself, and except some cold days a short time +after you went away, we have really had no winter. The miraculous warmth +has saved me, for I was so _felled_ in that Rue de Grenelle, I should +scarcely have had force against an ordinary cold season. Little Penini +has been blossoming like a rose all the time. Such a darling, idle, +distracted child he is, not keeping his attention for three minutes +together for the hour and a half I teach him, and when I upbraid him for +it, throwing himself upon me like a dog, kissing my cheeks and head and +hands. 'O you little pet, _dive_ me one chance more! I will really be +dood,' and learning everything by magnetism, getting on in seven weeks, +for instance, to read French quite surprisingly. He has written a poem +on the war and the peace, called 'Soldiers going and coming,' which +Robert and I thought so remarkable that I sent it to Mr. Forster. Oh, +such a darling, that child is! I expect the wings to grow presently. + +As for my poem (far below Penini's), I work on steadily and have put in +order and transcribed five books, containing in all above six thousand +lines ready for the press. I have another book to put together and +transcribe, and then must begin the composition part of one or two more +books, I suppose. I must be ready for printing by the time we go to +England, in June. Robert too is much occupied with 'Sordello,'[49] and +we neither of us receive anybody till past four o'clock. I mean that +when you have read my new book, you put away all my other poems or most +of them, and know me only by the new. Oh, I am so anxious to make it +good. I have put much of myself in it--I mean to say, of my soul, my +thoughts, emotions, opinions; in other respects, there is not a personal +line, of course. It's a sort of poetic art-novel. If it's a failure, +there will be the comfort of having made a worthy effort, of having done +it as well as I could. Write soon to me, and love us both constantly, as +we do you. + +Your ever affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +[Paris]: May 2, 1856 [postmark]. + +My dearest Mona Nina,--It's very pleasant always to get letters from +you, and such kind dear letters, showing that you haven't broken the +tether-strings in search of 'pastures new,' weary of our cropped grass. + +As for news, you have most of the persons upon whom you care for gossip +in your hand now--Mrs. Sartoris, Madame Viardot, Lady Monson, and the +Ristori herself. Robert went to see her twice, because Lady Monson led +him by the hand kindly, and was charmed; thought the Medee very fine, +but won't join in the cry about miraculous genius and Rachel +out-Racheled. He thinks that as far as the highest and largest +development of sensibility can go, she is very great; but that for those +grand and sudden _apercus_ which have distinguished actors--such as +Kean, for instance--he does not acknowledge them in her. You have heard +perhaps how Dickens and others, Macready among the rest, depreciated +her. Dickens went so far as to say, I understand, that no English +audience would tolerate her defects; which will be put to the proof +presently. By the way, you had better not quote Macready on this +subject, as he expressed himself unwilling to be quoted on it.... + +So now we are well again,[50] thank God; and if Robert will but take +regular exercise, he will keep so, I hope. As to Penini, he is radiant, +and even I have been out walking twice, though a good deal weaker for +the winter. More open air, and much more, is necessary to set me growing +again, but I shall grow; and meantime I have been working, and am +working, at so close a rate that if I lose a day I am lost, which is too +close a rate, and makes one feel rather nervous. We see nobody till +after four meantime. I have finished (not transcribed) the last book but +one, and am now in the very last book, which must be finished with the +last days of May. Then the first fortnight of June will be occupied with +the transcription of these two last books, and I shall carry the +completed work with me to England on the 16th if it please God. Oh, I do +hope you won't be disappointed with it--much! Some things you will like +certainly, because of the boldness and veracity of them, and others you +_may_; I can't be so sure. Robert speaks well of the poetry--encourages +me much. But then he has seen only six of the eight books yet. + +He just now has taken to drawing, and after thirteen days' application +has produced some quite startling copies of heads. I am very glad. He +can't rest from serious work in light literature, as I can; it wearies +him, and there are hours which are on his hands, which is bad both for +them and for him. The secret of life is in full occupation, isn't it? +This world is not tenable on other terms. So while I lie on the sofa and +rest in a novel, Robert has a resource in his drawing; and really, with +all his feeling and knowledge of art, some of the mechanical trick of it +can't be out of place. + +To-night he is going to Madame Mohl, who is well and as vivacious as +ever. When Monckton Milnes was in Paris he dined with him in company +with Mignet, Cavour, George Sand, and an empty chair in which Lamartine +was expected to sit. George Sand had an ivy wreath round her head, and +looked like herself; But Lady Monson will talk to you of _her_, better +than I can. Now, mind you ask Lady Monson. + +As to this Government, I only entreat you _not_ to believe any of the +mendacious reports set afloat here by a most unworthy Opposition, and +carried out by the English 'Athenaeum' and other prints. Surely a cause +must be bad which is supported by such bad means. In the first place, +Beranger did _not_ write the verses attributed to him. The internal +evidence was sufficient--for Victor Hugo is his personal enemy--to say +nothing of the poetry. Then it would be wise, I think, in considering +this question, and in taking for granted that the 'literature and +talent' of the country are against the Government, to analyse the +antecedents and character of the persons who _do_ stand out, persons +implicated in former Governments, or favored by former Governments, and +whose vanity and prejudices are necessarily contrary to a new order. +These persons, either in themselves or their friends, have all been +tried in action and found wanting. They have all lost the confidence of +the French people, either by their misconduct or their ill-fortune. +They are all cast aside as broken instruments. Under these circumstances +they think it desirable to break themselves into the lock, to prevent +the turning of another key; they consider it noble and patriotic to +stand aside and revile and throw mud, in order to hinder the action of +those who _are_ acting for the country. In my mind, it is quite +otherwise; in my mind and in many other minds--Robert's, for instance! +and he began with a most intense hatred of this Government, as you well +know. But he does not shut his eyes to all that is noble and admirable +going on, on all sides. At last he is sick of the Opposition, he admits. +In respect to literature, nothing can be more mendacious than to say +there are restraints upon literature. Books of freer opinion are printed +now than would ever have been permitted under Louis Philippe, as was +reproached against Napoleon by an enemy the other day--books of free +opinion, even licentious opinion, on religion and philosophy. _There is +restraint in the newspapers only._ That the 'Athenaeum' should venture to +say that in consequence of the suppression of books compositors are +thrown out of work and forced to become transcribers of verses like +Beranger's (which are not Beranger's) is so stupendous a falsehood in +the face of _statistics which prove a yearly increase in the amount of +books printed_ that I quite lose my breath, you see, in speaking of it. + +The Government is steadily solving, or attempting to solve, that +difficult modern problem of possible _Socialism_ which has been knocking +at all our heads and hearts so long. _That_ is its vexation. It is a +Government for the _'bus people_, the first settled and serious +Government that ever attempted _their_ case. Its action is worth all the +pedantry of the _doctrinaires_ and the middling morals of the _juste +milieu_; and I, who am a Democrat, will stand by it as long as I can +stand, which isn't very long just now, as I told you. + +Dearest Mona Nina, I am so uneasy about dear Mr. Kenyon, who has been +ill again--_is_ ill, I fear. He is in London--more's the pity! and Miss +Bayley is with him. He gives me sad thoughts. + +Do write of yourself. Don't _you_ be sad, dearest friend. Oh, I do wish +you could have come, and let us love you and talk to you--but on the +16th of June, at any rate. + +Your ever affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +[Paris]: Monday, May 6, 1856 [postmark]. + +My dearest Mona Nina,--Your letter makes me feel very uncomfortable. We +are in real difficulty about our dear friend Mr. Kenyon, the impulse +being, of course, that Robert should go at once, and then the fear +coming that it might be an annoyance, an intrusion, something the +farthest from what it should be at all. If you had been more +explicit--_you_--and we could know what was in your mind when you 'ask' +Robert to come, my dear friend, then it would be all easier. If we could +but know whether anything passed between you and Miss Bayley on this +subject, or whether it is entirely out of your own head that you wish +Robert to come. I thought about it yesterday, till I went to bed at +eight o'clock with headache. Shall I tell you something in your ear? It +is easier for a rich man to enter, after all, into the kingdom of heaven +than into the full advantages of real human tenderness. Robert would +give much at this moment to be allowed to go to dearest Mr. Kenyon, sit +up with him, hold his hand, speak a good loving word to him. This would +be privilege to him and to me; and love and gratitude on our parts +justified us in _asking_ to be allowed to do it. Twice we have asked. +The first time a very kind but decided negative was returned to us on +the part of our friend. Yesterday we again asked. Yesterday I wrote to +say that it would be _consolation_ to us if Robert might go--if we might +say so without 'teasing.' To-morrow, in the case of Miss Bayley sending +a consent, even on her own part, Robert will set off instantly; but +without an encouraging word from her--my dear friend, do you not see +that it might really vex dearest Mr. Kenyon? Observe, we have no more +right of intruding than you would have if you forced your way upstairs. +It's a wretched world, where we can't express an honest affection +honestly without half appearing indelicate to ourselves; nothing proves +more how the dirt of the world is up to our chins, and I think I had my +headache yesterday really and absolutely from simple disgust. + +You see, Robert might go to stay till Mr. Edward Kenyon arrives--if it +were only till then. I still hope and pray that our dearest friend may +rally, to recover at least a tolerable degree of health. He has certain +good symptoms; and some of the bad ones, such as the wandering, &c., are +constitutional with him under the least fever. You may suppose what +painful anxiety we are in about him. Oh, he has been always so good to +me--so true, sympathising, and generous a friend! + +I shall always have a peculiar feeling to that dear kind Miss Bayley for +what she has been to him these latter months. + +Now I can't write any more just now. Leighton has been cut up +unmercifully by the critics, but bears on, Robert says, not without +courage. That you should say 'his picture looked well' was comfort in +the general gloom, though even you don't give anything yet that can be +called an opinion. Mrs. Sartoris will be much vexed by it all, I am +sure. + +May God bless you! Write to me. Robert's love with that of + +Your ever affectionate +BA. + +Did you observe a portrait of Robert by Page? Where have they hung it, +and how does it strike you? + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss E.F. Haworth_ + +[Paris]: 3 Rue du Colisee: +Saturday, June 17, 1856 [postmark]. + +My dearest Fanny,--I was just going to write to you to beg you to apply +to Chapman for Robert's book, when he came to stop me with the +newspaper. Thank you, my dearest Fanny, for having thought of me when +you had so much weary thought; it was very touching to me that you +should. And I am vexed to have missed two days before I told you +this--the first by an accident, and the second (to-day) by its being a +blank post-day; but you will know by your heart how deeply I have felt +and feel for you. May God bless you and love you! If I were as He to +comfort, you should be strong and calm at this moment. But what are we +to one another in this world? How weak, how far, we all feel in moments +like these. + +Still, I should like to know that you had some friend near you, to hold +your hand and look in your face and be silent, as those are silent who +know and feel. When you can write again, tell me how it is with you in +this respect, and in others. + +So sudden, so sudden! Yet bereavements like these are always sudden to +the soul, more or less. All _blows_ must needs be sudden. May your +health not suffer, dear Fanny. We shall be in London in about a week +after the 16th, for we are delayed through my not having finished my +poem, which nobody will finish reading perhaps. We go to Mr. Kenyon's +house in Devonshire Place, kindly offered to us for the summer. Shall we +find you, I wonder, in London? + +Yes; there are terrible costs in this world. We get knowledge by losing +what we hoped for, and liberty by losing what we loved. But this world +is a fragment--or, rather, a segment--and it will be rounded presently, +to the completer satisfaction. Not to doubt _that_ is the greatest +blessing it gives now. Death is as vain as life; the common impression +of it, as false and as absurd. A mere change of circumstances. What +more? And how near these spirits are, how conscious, how full of active +energy and tender reminiscence and interest, who shall dare to doubt? +For myself, I do not doubt at all. If I did, I should be sitting here +inexpressibly sad--for myself, not you.... + +Robert unites with me in affectionate sympathy, and Sarianna was here +last night, talking feelingly about you. You shall have Robert's book +when we get to England. Think how much I think of you. + +Your ever affectionate +BA. + +Mr. Kenyon has been very ill, and is still in a state occasioning +anxiety. He is at the Isle of Wight. + + * * * * * + + +At the end of June the Brownings came back to London, for what was, as +it proved, Mrs. Browning's last visit to England. Mr. Kenyon had lent +them his house in London, at 39 Devonshire Place, he himself being in +the Isle of Wight; but a shadow was thrown over the whole of this visit +by the serious and ultimately fatal illness of this dear friend. It was +partly in order to see him, and partly because Miss Arabel Barrett had +been sent out of town by her father almost as soon as her sister reached +Devonshire Place, that about the beginning of September they made an +expedition to the Isle of Wight, staying first at Ventnor with Miss +Barrett, and subsequently at West Cowes with Mr. Kenyon. All the while +Mrs. Browning was actively engaged in seeing 'Aurora Leigh' through the +press, and the poem was published just about the time they left England. +The letters during this visit are few and mostly unimportant, but the +following are of interest. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +39 Devonshire Place: +Friday morning [July-August 1856]. + +My dearest Mona Nina, my dear friend,--I am so grieved, so humiliated. +If it is possible to forgive me, do. + +I received your note, delayed answering it because I fancied Robert +might _learn_ to accept your kindness about the box after a day's +consideration, and so forgot everything bodily, taking one day for +another, as is my way lately, in this great crush of too much to do and +think of. When I was persuaded to go yesterday morning for the first and +last time to the Royal Academy, on the point of closing, I went in like +an idiot--that is, an innocent--never once thinking of what I was +running the risk of losing; and when I returned and found you gone, you +were lost and I in despair. So much in despair that I did not hope once +you might come again, and out I went after dinner to see the Edward +Kenyons in Beaumont Street, like an innocent--that is, an idiot--and so +lost you again. You may forgive me--it is possible--but to forgive +myself! it is more difficult. Try not quite to give me up for it. Your +note gave me so much pleasure. I _wished_ so to see you! For the future +I mean to write down engagements in a text-hand, and set them up +somewhere in sight; but if I broke through twenty others as shamefully, +it would not be with as much real grief to myself as in this fault to my +dearest Mona Nina. Do come soon, out of mercy--and magnanimity! + +Your _ever_ affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +3 Parade, West Cowes: +September 9, 1856 [postmark]. + +My dearest Mrs. Martin,--Your letter has followed us. We have been in +the south of the island, at Ventnor, with Arabel, and are now in the +north with Mr. Kenyon. We came off from London at a day's notice, the +Wimpole Street people being sent away abruptly (in consequence, plainly, +of our arrival becoming known), and Arabel bringing her praying eyes to +bear on Robert, who agreed to go with her and stay for a fortnight. So +we have had a happy sorrowful two weeks together, between meeting and +parting; and then came here, where our invalid friend called us. Poor +Arabel is in low spirits--very--and _aggrieved_ with being sent away +from town; but the fresh air and _repose_ will do her good, in spite of +herself, though she swears they won't (in the tone of saying they +shan't). She is not by any means strong, and overworks herself in London +with schools and Refuges, and societies--does the work of a horse, and +_isn't_ a horse. Last winter she was quite unwell, as you heard. In +spite of which, I did not think her looking ill when I saw her first; +and now she looks well, I think--quite as well as she ever does. But she +wants a new moral atmosphere--a little society. She is thrown too +entirely on her own resources, and her own resources are of somewhat a +gloomy character. This is all wrong. It has been partly necessary and a +little her fault, at one time. I would give my right hand to take her to +Italy; but if I gave right and left, it would not be found possible. My +father has remained in London, and may not go to Ventnor for the next +week or two, says a letter from Arabel this morning.... The very day he +heard of our being in Devonshire Place he gave orders that his family +should go away. I wrote afterwards, but my letter, as usual, remained +unnoticed. + +It has naturally begun to dawn upon my child that I have done something +very wicked to make my father what he is. Once he came up to me +earnestly and said, 'Mama, if you've been very, very naughty--if you've +_broken china_!' (his idea of the heinous in crime)--'I advise you to go +into the room and say, "_Papa, I'll be dood._"' Almost I obeyed the +inspiration--almost I felt inclined to go. But there were +considerations--yes, good reasons--which kept me back, and must continue +to do so. In fact, the position is perfectly hopeless--perfectly. + +We find our dear friend Mr. Kenyon better in some respects than we +expected, but I fear in a very precarious state. Our stay is uncertain. +We may go at a moment's notice, or remain if he wishes it; and, my +proofs being sent post by post, we are able to see to them together, +without too much delay. Still, only one-half of the book is done, and +the days come when I shall find no pleasure in them--nothing but +coughing. + +George and my brothers were very kind to Robert at Ventnor, and he is +quite touched by it. Also, little Pen made his way into the heart of +'mine untles,' and was carried on their backs up and down hills, and +taught the ways of 'English boys,' with so much success that he makes +pretensions to 'pluck,' and has left a good reputation behind him. On +one occasion he went up to a boy of twelve who took liberties, and +exclaimed, 'Don't be impertinent, sir' (doubling his small fist), 'or I +will show you that _I'm a boy_.' Of course 'mine untles' are charmed +with this 'proper spirit,' and applaud highly. Robert and I begged to +suggest to the hero that the 'boy of twelve' might have killed him if he +had pleased. 'Never mind,' cried little Pen, 'there would have been +somebody to think of _me_, who would have him hanged' (great applause +from the uncles). 'But _you_ would still be dead,' said Robert +remorselessly. 'Well, I don't tare for _that_. It was a beautiful place +to die in--close to the sea.' + +So you will please to observe that, in spite of being Italians and +wearing curls, we can fight to the death on occasion.... + +Write to me, and say how you both are. Robert's love. We both love you. + +Very lovingly yours, +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +[West Cowes]: September 13, 1856 [postmark]. + +My dearest Sarianna,--Robert comes suddenly down on me with news that he +is going to write to you, so, though I have been writing letters all the +morning, I must throw in a few words. As to keeping Penini at the sea +longer, he will have been three weeks at the sea to-morrow, and you must +remember how late into the year it is getting--and we with so much work +before us! And if Peni recovered his roses at Ventnor, I recovered my +cough (from the piercing east winds); but I am better since, and last +night slept well. It's far too early for cough, however, in any shape. +We have heaps of business to do in London--heaps--and the book is only +half-done. Still, we are asked to stay here till three days after Madame +Braun's arrival, and it isn't fixed yet when she will arrive; so that I +daresay Peni will have a full month of the sea, after all. Then I have a +design upon Robert's good-nature, of persuading him to _go round by +Taunton_ to London (something like going round the earth to Paris), that +I may see my poor forsaken sister Henrietta, who wants us to give her a +week in her cottage, pathetically bewailing herself that she has no +means for the expense of going to London this time--that she has done it +twice for me, and can't this time (the purse being low); and unless we +go to her, she must do without seeing me, in spite of a separation of +four years. So I am anxious to go, of course. + +Robert will have told you of our dear friend here. We began by finding +him much better than we expected, but gradually the sad truth deepens +that he is very ill--oh, it deepens and saddens at once. The face lights +up with the warm, generous heart; then the fire drops, and you see the +embers. The breath is very difficult--it is hard to live. He leans on +the table, saying softly and pathetically 'My God! my God!' Now and then +he desires aloud to pass away and be at rest. I cannot tell you what +his kindness is--his consideration is too affecting; kinder he is than +ever. Miss Bayley is an excellent nurse--at once gentle and +decided--and, if she did but look further than this life and this death, +she would be a perfect companion for him. Peni creeps about like a +mouse; but he goes out, and he isn't over-tired, as he was at Ventnor. +We think he is altogether better in looks and ways. + +Your affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +A short visit to Taunton seems to have been made about the end of +September, as anticipated in the last letter, and then, at some time in +the course of October, they set out for Florence. But Mrs. Browning, in +thus quitting England for the last time, left behind her as a legacy the +completed volume of 'Aurora Leigh.' This poem was the realisation of her +early scheme, which goes back at least to the year 1844, of writing a +novel in verse--a novel modern in setting and ideas, and embodying her +own ideals of social and moral progress. And to a large extent she +succeeded. As a vehicle of her opinions, the scheme and style of the +poem proved completely adequate. She moves easily through the story; she +handles her metre with freedom and command; she can say her say without +exaggeration or unnatural strain. Further, the opinions themselves, as +those who have learnt to know her through her letters will feel sure, +are lofty and honourable, and full of a genuine enthusiasm for humanity. +As a novel, 'Aurora Leigh' may be open to the criticism that most of the +characters fail to impress us with a sense of reality and vitality, and +that the hero hardly wins the sympathy from the reader which he is meant +to win. But as a poem it is unquestionably a very remarkable work--not +so full of permanent poetic spirit as the 'Sonnets from the Portuguese,' +not so readily popular as 'The Cry of the Children' or 'Cowper's +Grave'--but a highly characteristic work of one whose character was +made up of pure thoughts and noble ideals, which, in spite of the +inevitable change of manners and social interests with the lapse of +years, will retain into an indefinite future a very considerable +intrinsic value as poetry, and a very high rank among the works of its +author. + +At the time of its publication its success was immediate. The subjects +touched on were largely such as always attract interest, because they +are open to much controversy; and the freshness of style and originality +of conception (for almost the only other novel-poem in the language is +'Don Juan,' which can hardly be regarded as of the same type as 'Aurora +Leigh') attracted a multitude of readers. A second edition was required +in a fortnight, a third in a few months--a success which must have +greatly pleased the authoress, who had put her inmost self into her +work, and had laboured hard to leave behind her an adequate +representation of her poetic art. + +This natural satisfaction was darkened, however, by the death, on +December 3, of Mr. Kenyon, in whose house the poem had been completed, +and to whom it had been dedicated. Readers of these letters do not +require to be told how near and dear a friend he had been to both Mrs. +Browning and her husband. During his life his friendship had taken the +practical form of allowing them 100_l._ a year, in order that they might +be more free to follow their art for its own sake only, and in his will +he left 6,500_l._ to Robert Browning and 4,500_l._ to Mrs. Browning. +These were the largest legacies in a very generous will--the fitting end +to a life passed in acts of generosity and kindness to those in need. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +[Florence. November 1856.] + +Robert says he will wait for me till to-morrow, but I leave my other +letters rather and write to you, so sure I am that we oughtn't to put +that off any longer. Dearest Sarianna, I am very much pleased that you +like the poem, having feared a little that you might not. M. Milsand +will _not_, I prophesy; 'seeing as from a tower the end of all.' The +'Athenaeum' is right in supposing that it will be much liked _and_ much +disliked by people in general, although the press is so far astonishing +in its goodwill, and although the extravagance of private letters might +well surprise the warmest of my friends. But, patience! In a little +while we shall have the other side of the question, and the whips will +fall fast after the nosegays. Still, I am surprised, I own, at the +amount of success; and that golden-hearted Robert is in ecstasies about +it--far more than if it all related to a book of his own. The form of +the story, and also something in the philosophy, seem to have caught the +crowd. As to the poetry by itself, anything good in _that_ repels +rather. I am not as blind as Romney, not to perceive this. He had to be +blinded, observe, to be made to see; just as Marian had to be dragged +through the uttermost debasement of circumstances to arrive at the +sentiment of personal dignity. I am sorry, but indeed it seemed +necessary. + +You tantalise me with your account of 'warm days.' It is warmer with us +to-day, but we have had snow on all the mountains, and poor Isa has been +half-frozen at her villa. As for me, I have suffered wonderfully +little--no more than discomfort and languor. We have piled up the wood +in this room and the next, and had a perpetual blaze. Not for ten years +has there been in Florence such a November! 'Is this Italy?' says poor +Fanny Haworth's wondering face. Still, she likes Florence better than +she did.... + +Is it not strange that dear Mr. Kenyon should have lost his brother by +this sudden stroke? Strange and sad?... He was suffering too under a +relapse when the news came--which, Miss Bayley says, did not dangerously +affect him, after all. Oh, sad and strange! I pity the unfortunate wife +more than anyone. She said to me this summer, 'I could not live without +him. Let us hope in God that he and I may die at the same moment.'... + +There's much good in dear M. Milsand's idea for us about Paris and the +South of France. Still, I'm rather glad to be quite outside the world +for a little, during these first steps of 'Aurora.' Best love to the +dear Nonno. May God bless you both! + +Your ever affectionate +BA. + +Oh, the spirits! Hate of Hume and belief in the facts are universal +here. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss I. Blagden_ + +[About December 1856.] + +My dearest Isa,--Just before your note came I had the pleasure of +burning my own to you yesterday, which was not called for, as I +expected. You would have seen from _that_, that Robert was going to you +of his own accord and mine.... + +I am rather glad you have not seen the 'Athenaeum'; the analysis it gives +of my poem is so very unfair and partial. You would say the conception +was really _null_. It does not console me at all that I should be +praised and over-praised, the idea given of the poem remaining so +absolutely futile. Even the outside shell of the plan is but half given, +and the double action of the metaphysical intention entirely ignored. I +protest against it. Still, Robert thinks the article not likely to do +harm. Perhaps not. Only one hates to be misrepresented. + +So glad I am that Robert was good last night. He told me he had been +defending Swedenborg and the spirits, which suggested to me some notion +of superhuman virtue on his part. Yes; love him. He is my right 'glory'; +and the 'lute and harp' would go for nothing beside him, even if +'Athenaeums' spelled one out properly. + +Dearest Isa, may God bless you! Let me hear by a word, when Ansuno +passes, how you are. Your loving + +E.B.B. + + * * * * * + + +The following letter was written almost immediately after the receipt of +the news of Mr. Kenyon's death. Mrs. Kinney, to whom it is addressed, +was the wife of the Hon. William Burnett Kinney, who was United States +Minister at the Court of Sardinia in 1851. After his term of office he +removed to Florence, for the purpose of producing an historical work, +but he did not live to accomplish it. Mrs. Kinney, who was herself a +poet, was also the mother of the well-known American poet and critic, +Mr. E.C. Stedman.[51] + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. W.B. Kinney_ + +Casa Guidi: Friday evening [December 1856]. + +Your generous sympathy, my dear Mrs. Kinney, would have made me glad +yesterday, if I had not been so very, very sad with some news of the day +before, telling me of the loss of the loved friend to whom that book is +dedicated. So sad I was that I could not lift up my head to write and +express to you how gratefully I felt the recognition of your letter. You +are most generous--overflowingly generous. If I said I wished to deserve +it better, it would be like wishing you less generous; so I won't. I +will only thank you from my heart; _that_ shall be all I shall say. + +Affectionately yours always, +ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +Florence: December 26, 1856 [postmark]. + +My ever dear Friend,--To have three letters from you all unanswered +seems really to discredit me to myself, while it gives such proof of +your kindness and affection. No other excuse is to be offered but the +sort of interruption which sadness gives. I really had not the heart to +sit down and talk of my 'Aurora,' even in reference to the pleasure and +honour brought to me by the expression of your opinion, when the beloved +friend associated with the poor book was lost to me in this world, gone +where perhaps he no longer sympathises with pleasure or honour of mine, +now--for nearly the first time. _Perhaps._ After such separations the +sense of _distance_ is the thing felt first. And certainly my book at +least is naturally saddened to me, and the success of it wholesomely +spoiled. + +Yet your letter, my dearest Mona Nina, arrived in time to give me great, +great pleasure--true pleasure indeed, and most tenderly do I thank you +for it. I have had many of such letters from persons loved less, and +whose opinions had less weight; and you will like to hear that in a +fortnight after publication Chapman had to go to press with the second +edition. In fact, the kind of reception given to the book has much +surprised me, as I was prepared for an outcry of quite another kind, and +extravagances in a quite opposite sense. This has been left, however, to +the 'Press,' the 'Post,' and the 'Tablet,' who calls 'Aurora' 'a +brazen-faced woman,' and brands the story as a romance in the manner of +Frederic Soulie--in reference, of course, to its gross indecency. + +I can't leave this subject without noticing (by the way) what you say of +the likeness to the catastrophe of 'Jane Eyre.' I have sent to the +library here for 'Jane Eyre' (but haven't got it yet) in order to +refresh my memory on this point; but, as far as I do recall the facts, +the hero was monstrously disfigured and blinded in a fire the +particulars of which escape me, and the circumstance of his being +hideously scarred is the thing impressed chiefly on the reader's mind; +certainly it remains innermost in mine. Now if you read over again those +pages of my poem, you will find that the only injury received by Romney +in the fire was from a blow and from the emotion produced by the +_circumstances_ of the fire. Not only did he _not_ lose his eyes in the +fire, but he describes the ruin of his house as no blind man could. He +was standing there, a spectator. Afterwards he had a fever, and the +eyes, the visual nerve, perished, showing no external stain--perished as +Milton's did. I believe that a great shock on the nerves might produce +such an effect in certain constitutions, and the reader on referring as +far back as Marian's letter (when she avoided the marriage) may observe +that his eyes had never been strong, that her desire had been to read +his notes at night, and save them. For it was necessary, I thought, to +the bringing-out of my thought, that Romney should be mulcted in his +natural sight. The 'Examiner' saw that. Tell me if, on looking into the +book again, you modify your feeling at all. + +Dearest Mona Nina, you are well now, are you not? Your last dear letter +seems brighter altogether, and seems to promise, too, that quiet in +Italy will restore the tone of your spirits and health. Do you know, I +almost advise you (though it is like speaking against my heart) to go +from Marseilles to Rome straight, and to give us the spring. The spring +is beautiful in Florence; and then I should be free to go and see the +pictures with you, and enjoy you in the in-door and out-of-door way, +both.... + +You will have heard (we heard it only three days ago) how our kindest +friend, who never forgot us, remembered us in his will. The legacy is +eleven thousand pounds; six thousand five hundred of which are left to +Robert, marking delicately a sense of trust for which I am especially +grateful Of course, this addition to our income will free us from the +pressure which has been upon us hitherto. But oh, how much sadness goes +to making every gain in this world! It has been a sad, sad Christmas to +me. A great gap is left among friends, and the void catches the eyes of +the soul, whichever way it turns. He has been to me in much what my +father might have been, and now the place is empty twice over. + +You are yet _unconvinced_. You will be convinced one day, I think. Here +are wide-awake men (some of them most anti-spiritual to this hour, as to +theory) who agree in giving testimony to facts of one order. You shall +hear their testimony when you come. As to the 'supernatural,' if you +mean by that the miraculous, the suspension of natural law, I certainly +believe in it no more than you do. What happens, happens according to a +natural law, the development of which only becomes fuller and more +observable. The movement, such as it is, is accelerated, and the whole +structure of society in America is becoming affected more or less for +good or evil, and very often for evil, through the extreme tenacity or +slowness of those who ought to be leaders in every revolution of +thought, but who, on this subject, are pleased to leave their places to +the unqualified and the fanatical. Wise men will be sorry presently. +When Faraday was asked to go and see Hume, to see a heavy table lifted +without the touch of a finger, he answered that 'he had not time.' Time +has its 'revenges.' + +I am very glad that dear Mr. Procter has had some of these last benefits +of one beloved by so many. What a loss, what a loss! Was there no +bequest to yourself? We have heard scarcely anything. + +May God bless you, dearest Mona Nina, with the blessing of years old and +new. + +Robert's love. Your ever attached + +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +Florence: December 29, 1856. + +My dearest Mrs. Martin,--I am very, very sorry. I feel for you to the +bottom of my heart. But she was a pure spirit, leaning out the way God +had marked for her to go, and you had not associated this world too much +with her, as if she could have been meant to stay long in it. Always you +felt that she was about to go--did you not, dear friend?--and so that +she does not stay cannot be an astonishment to you. The pain is the +same; only it can't be the bitter, unnatural pain of certain +separations. Her sweetness has gone to the sweet, her lovely nature to +the lovely; no violence was done to her in carrying her home. May God +enable you to dwell on this till you are satisfied--glad, and not sorry! +That the spirits do not go far, and that they love us still, has grown +to me surer and surer. And yet, how death shakes us! + +Yes indeed. I, too, have been very, very sad. This Christmas has come to +me like a cloud. I can scarcely fancy England without that bright face +and sympathetic hand, that princely nature, in which you might put your +trust more reasonably than in princes. These ten years back he has stood +to me almost in my father's place; and now the place is empty--doubly. +Since the birth of my child (seven years since) he has allowed +us--rather, insisted on our accepting (for my husband was loth)--a +hundred a year, and without it we should have often been in hard +straits. His last act was to leave us eleven thousand pounds; and I do +not doubt but that, if he had not known our preference of a simple mode +of life and a freedom from worldly responsibilities (born artists as we +both are), the bequest would have been greater still. As it is, we shall +be relieved from pecuniary pressure, and your affectionateness will be +glad to hear this, but I shall have more comfort from the consideration +of it presently than I can at this instant, when the loss, the empty +chair, the silent voice, the apparently suspended sympathy, must still +keep painfully uppermost. + +You will wonder at a paragraph from the 'Athenaeum,' which Robert thought +out of taste until he came to understand the motive of it--that there +had been (two days previous to its appearance) a brutal attack on the +_will_, to the effect that literary persons had been altogether +overlooked in the dispositions of the testator, in consequence of his, +being a disappointed literary pretender himself. Therefore we were +brought forward, you see, together with Barry Cornwall and Dr. Southey, +producing a wrong impression on the other side--only I can't blame the +'Athenaeum' writer for it; nor can anyone, I think. The effect, however, +to ourselves is most uncomfortable, as we are overwhelmed with +'congratulations' on all sides, just as if we had not lost a dear, +tender, faithful friend and relative--just as if, in fact, some stranger +had made us a bequest as a tribute to our poetry. People are so obtuse +in this world--as Robert says, so '_dense_'; as Lord Brougham says, so +'_crass_.' + +Whatever may be your liking or disliking of 'Aurora Leigh,' you will +like to hear that it's a great success, and in a way which I the least +expected, for a fortnight after the day of publication it had to go to +press for the second edition. The extravagances written to me about that +book would make you laugh, if you were in a laughing mood; and the +strange thing is that the press, the daily and weekly press, upon which +I calculated for furious abuse, has been, for the most part, furious the +other way. The 'Press' newspaper, the 'Post,' and the 'Tablet' are +exceptions; but for the rest, the 'Athenaeum' is the coldest in praising. +It's a puzzle to me, altogether. I don't know upon what principle the +public likes and dislikes poems. Any way, it is very satisfactory at the +end of a laborious work (for much hard working and hard thinking have +gone to it) to hear it thus recognised, however I must think, with some +bitterness, that the beloved and sympathetic friend to whom it was +dedicated scarcely lived to know what would have given him so much +pleasure as this. + +Dearest Mrs. Martin, mind you tell me the truth exactly. I should like +much to have pleased you and Mr. Martin, but I like the truth _best_ of +all from you.... + +Dearest friends, keep kind thoughts of + +Your affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +[Florence: January 1857.] + +My dearest Sarianna,--A great many happy years to you, and also to the +dear Nonno. I am glad, for my part, to be out of the last, which has +been gloomy and almost embittering to me personally; but we must throw +our burdens behind our backs as far as possible, and be cheerful for the +rest of the road. If Robert alone wrote about 'Aurora,' I won't leave it +to him to be alone grateful to dear M. Milsand for his extraordinary +kindness. Do tell him, with my love, that I could not have expected it, +even from himself--which is saying much. Most thankfully I leave +everything to his discretion and judgment. On this subject I have been, +from the beginning, divided between my strong desire of being translated +and my strong fear of being ill-translated. Harrison Ainsworth's novels +are quite one thing, and a poem of mine quite another. Oh yes! and yet, +so great is my faith in Milsand, that the touch of his hand and the +overseership of his eyes must tranquillise me. I am simply grateful. + +Peni has been overwhelmed with gifts this year. I gave him on Christmas +Day (by his own secret inspiration) 'a sword with a blade to dazzle the +eyes'; Robert, a box of tools and carpenter's bench; and we united in a +'Robinson Crusoe,' who was well received. Then from others he had +sleeve-studs, a silver pencil-case, books, &c. According to his own +magniloquent phrase, he was '_exceptionally_ happy.' He has taken to +long words; I heard him talking of '_evidences_' the other day. Poor +little Pen! it's the more funny that he has by no means yet left off +certain of his babyisms of articulation, and the combined effects are +curious. You asked of Ferdinando.[52] Peni's attachment for Ferdinando +is undiminished. Ferdinando can't be found fault with, even in +gentleness, without a burst of tears on Peni's part. Lately I ventured +to ask not to be left quite alone in the house on certain occasions; and +though I spoke quite kindly, there was Peni in tears, assuring me that +we ought to have another servant to open the door, for that 'poor +Ferdinando had a great deal too much work'! When I ventured to demur to +that, the next charge was, 'plainly I did not love Ferdinando as much as +I loved Penini,' which I could not deny; and then with passionate sobs +Peni said that 'I was very unjust indeed.' 'Indeed, indeed, dear mama, +you _are_ unjust! Ferdinando does everything for you, and I do nothing, +except tease you, and even' (sobbing) 'I am sometimes a very naughty +boy.' I had to mop up his tears with my pocket-handkerchief, and excuse +myself as well as I could from the moral imputation of loving Peni +better than Ferdinando. + +We have been very glad in a visit from Frederick Tennyson.... God bless +you! Robert won't wait. + +Your ever attached +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +Florence: February 2, 1857 [postmark]. + +My dearest Mona Nina,--To begin (lest I forget before the ending), don't +mind the sugar-tongs, if you have not actually bought them, inasmuch as, +to my astonishment, Wilson has found a pair in Florence, marking the +progress of civilisation in this South. In Paris last winter we sought +in vain. There was nothing between one's fingers and real silver--too +expensive for poets. But now we are supplied splendidly--and at the cost +of five pauls, let me tell you. + +Always delighted I am to have your letters, even when you don't tell me +as touchingly as in this that mine are something to you. Do I not indeed +love you and _sympathise_ with you fully and deeply? Yes, indeed. On one +subject I am afraid to touch. But I _know_ why it is you feel so long, +so unduly--so morbidly, in a sense. People in general, knowing +themselves to be innocently made to suffer, would take comfort in +righteous indignation and justified contempt: but to you the indignation +and contempt would be the worst part of suffering; you can't bear it, +and you are in a strait between the two. In fact, it relieves you rather +to take part against yourself, and to conclude on the whole that there's +something really bad in you calling on the pure Heavens for vengeance. +Yes, that's _you_. You sympathise tenderly with your executioner.... + +And as for the critics--yes, indeed, I agree with you that I have no +reason to complain. More than that, I confess to you that I am entirely +astonished at the amount of reception I have met with--I who expected to +be put in the stocks and pelted with the eggs of the last twenty years' +'singing birds' as a disorderly woman and freethinking poet! People have +been so kind that, in the first place, I really come to modify my +opinions somewhat upon their conventionality, to see the progress made +in freedom of thought. Think of quite decent women taking the part of +the book in a sort of _effervescence_ which I hear of with astonishment. +In fact, there has been an enormous quantity of extravagance talked and +written on the subject, and I _know it_--oh, I know it. I wish I +deserved some things--some things; I wish it were all true. But I see +too distinctly what I _ought_ to have written. Still, it is nearer the +mark than my former efforts--fuller, stronger, more sustained--and one +may be encouraged to push on to something worthier, for I don't feel as +if I had done yet--no indeed. I have had from Leigh Hunt a very pleasant +letter of twenty pages, and I think I told you of the two from John +Ruskin. In America, also, there's great success, and the publisher is +said to have shed tears over the proofs (perhaps in reference to the +hundred pounds he had to pay for them), and the critics congratulate me +on having worked myself clear of all my affectations, mannerisms, and +other morbidities. + +Even 'Blackwood' is not to be complained of, seeing that the writer +evidently belongs to an elder school, and judges from his own point of +view. He is wrong, though, even in classical matters, as it seems to +_me_. + +I heard one of Thackeray's lectures, the one on George the Third, and +thought it better than good--fine and touching. To what is it that +people are objecting? At any rate, they crowd and pay. + +Ah yes. You appreciate Robert; you know what is in his poetry. Certainly +there is no pretension in _me_ towards that profound suggestiveness, and +I thank you for knowing it and saying it. + +There is a real _poem_ being lived between Mr. Kirkup and the 'spirits,' +so called.[53] If I were to _write_ it in a poem, I should beat 'Aurora' +over and over. And such a tragic face the old man has, with his bleak +white beard. Even Robert is touched. + +Best love from him and your + +Ever attached +BA. + + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +Florence: February [1857]. + +My dearest Mrs. Martin,--I needn't say how much, how very much, pleasure +your letter gave me. That the poem should really have touched you, +reached you, with whatever drawbacks, is a joy. And then that Mr. Martin +should have read it with any sort of interest! It was more than I +counted on, as you know. Thank you, dearest Mrs. Martin--thank both of +you for so much sympathy. + +In respect to certain objections, I am quite sure you do me the justice +to believe that I do not willingly give cause for offence. Without going +as far as Robert, who holds that I 'couldn't be coarse if I tried,' +(only that!) you will grant that I don't habitually dabble in the dirt; +it's not the way of my mind or life. If, therefore, I move certain +subjects in this work, it is because my conscience was first moved in me +not to ignore them. What has given most offence in the book, more than +the story of Marian--far more!--has been the reference to the condition +of women in our cities, which a woman oughtn't to refer to, by any +manner of means, says the conventional tradition. Now I have thought +deeply otherwise. If a woman ignores these wrongs, then may women as a +sex continue to suffer them; there is no help for any of us--let us be +dumb and die. I have spoken therefore, and in speaking have used plain +words--words which look like blots, and which you yourself would put +away--words which, if blurred or softened, would imperil perhaps the +force and righteousness of the moral influence. Still, I certainly will, +when the time comes, go over the poem carefully, and see where an +offence can be got rid of without loss otherwise. The second edition was +issued so early that Robert would not let me alter even a comma, would +not let me look between the pages in order to the least alteration. He +said (the truth) that my head was dizzy-blind with the book, and that, +if I changed anything, it would be probably for the worse; like +arranging a room in the dark. Oh no. Indeed he is not vexed that you +should say what you do. On the contrary, he was _pleased_ because of the +much more that you said. As to your friend with the susceptible +'morals'--well, I could not help smiling indeed. I am assured too, by a +friend of my own, that the 'mamas of England' in a body refuse to let +their daughters read it. Still, the daughters emancipate themselves and +_do_, that is certain; for the number of _young_ women, not merely 'the +strong-minded' as a sect, but pretty, affluent, happy women, surrounded +by all the temptations of English respectability, that cover it with the +most extravagant praises is surprising to me, who was not prepared for +that particular kind of welcome. It's true that there's a quantity of +hate to balance the love, only I think it chiefly seems to come from the +less advanced part of society. (See how modest that sounds! But you will +know what I mean.) I mean, from persons whose opinions are not in a +state of growth, and who do not like to be disturbed from a settled +position. Oh, that there are faults in the book, no human being knows so +well as I; defects, weaknesses, great gaps of intelligence. Don't let me +stop to recount them. + +The review in 'Blackwood' proves to be by Mr. Aytoun; and coming from +the camp of the enemy (artistically and socially) cannot be considered +other than generous. It is not quite so by the 'North British,' where +another poet (Patmore), who knows more, is somewhat depreciatory, I +can't help feeling. + +Now will you be sick of my literature; but you liked to hear, you said. +If you would see, besides, I would show you what George sent me the +other day, a number of the 'National Magazine,' with the most hideous +engraving, from a medallion, you could imagine--the head of a +'strong-minded' giantess on the neck of a bull, and my name underneath! +Penini said, 'It's not a bit like; it's too old, and _not half so +pretty_'--which was comforting under the trying circumstance, if +anything could comfort one in despair.... + +Your ever most affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +[Florence: February 1857.] + +My dearest Sarianna,--I am delighted, and so is Robert, that you should +have found what pleases you in the clock. Here is Penini's letter, which +takes up so much room that I must be sparing of mine--and, by the way, +if you consider him improved in his writing, give the praise to Robert, +who has been taking most patient pains with him indeed. You will see how +the little curly head is turned with carnival doings. So gay a carnival +never was in our experience--for until last year (when we were absent) +all masks had been prohibited, and now everybody has eaten of the tree +of good and evil till not an apple was left. Peni persecuted me to let +him have a domino, with tears and embraces; he '_almost never_ in all +his life had had a domino,' and he would like it so. Not a black +domino--no; he hated black--but a blue domino, trimmed with pink! that +was his taste. The pink trimming I coaxed him out of; but for the rest I +let him have his way, darling child; and certainly it answered, as far +as the overflow of joy in his little heart went. Never was such delight. +Morning and evening there he was in the streets, running Wilson out of +breath, and lost sight of every ten minutes. 'Now, Lily, I do _pray_ you +not to call out "Penini! Penini!"' Not to be known was his immense +ambition. Oh, of course he thought of nothing else. As to lessons, there +was an absolute absence of wits. All Florence being turned out into the +streets in one gigantic pantomime, one couldn't expect people to be +wiser indoors than out. For my part, the universal madness reached me +sitting by the fire (whence I had not stirred for three months); and +you will open your eyes when I tell you that I went (in domino and +masked) to the great opera ball. Yes, I did really. Robert, who had been +invited two or three times to other people's boxes, had proposed to +return this kindness by taking a box himself at the opera this night and +entertaining two or three friends with _gallantina_ and champagne. Just +as he and I were lamenting the impossibility of my going, on that very +morning the wind changed, the air grew soft and mild, and he maintained +that I might and should go. There was no time to get a domino of my own +(Robert himself had a beautiful one made, and I am having it +metamorphosed into a black silk gown for myself!), so I sent out and +hired one, buying the mask. And very much amused I was. I like to see +these characteristic things. (I shall never rest, Sarianna, till I risk +my reputation at the Bal de l'Opera at Paris.) Do you think I was +satisfied with staying in the box? No, indeed. Down I went, and Robert +and I elbowed our way through the crowd to the remotest corner of the +ball below. Somebody smote me on the shoulder and cried 'Bella +mascherina!' and I answered as imprudently as one feels under a mask. At +two o'clock in the morning, however, I had to give up and come away +(being overcome by the heavy air), and ingloriously left Robert and our +friends to follow at half-past four. Think of the refinement and +gentleness--yes, I must call it _superiority_--of this people, when no +excess, no quarrelling, no rudeness nor coarseness can be observed in +the course of such wild masked liberty. Not a touch of license anywhere. +And perfect social equality! Ferdinando side by side in the same +ballroom with the Grand Duke, and no class's delicacy offended against! +For the Grand Duke went down into the ballroom for a short time. The +boxes, however, were dear. We were on a third tier, yet paid 2_l._ 5_s._ +English, besides entrance money. I think that, generally speaking, +theatrical amusements are cheaper in Paris, in spite of apparent +cheapnesses here. The pit here and stalls are cheap. But 'women in +society' can't go there, it is said; and you must take a whole box, if +you want two seats in a box--which seems to me monstrous. People combine +generally.... + +Ever affectionate +BA. + +I meant to write only a word--and see! May it not be overweight! + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +Florence: April 9 [1857]. + +Dearest Madonna,--I must not wait, lest I miss you in your transit to +Naples; thank you for your dear letter, then. The weather has burst +suddenly into summer (though it rains a little this morning), and I have +been let out of prison to drive in the Cascine and to Bellosguardo. +Beautiful, beautiful Florence. How beautiful at this time of year! The +trees stand in their 'green mist' as if in a trance of joy. Oh, I do +hope nothing will drive us out of our Paradise this summer, for I seem +to hate the North more 'unnaturally' than ever. + +Mrs. Stowe has just arrived, and called here yesterday and this morning, +when Robert took her to see the Salvators at the end of our street. I +like her better than I thought I should--that is, I find more refinement +in her voice and manner--no rampant Americanisms. Very simple and +gentle, with a sweet voice; undesirous of shining or _poser_-ing, so it +seems to me. Never did lioness roar more softly (that is quite certain); +and the temptations of a sudden enormous popularity should be estimated, +in doing her full justice. She is nice-looking, too; and there's +something strong and copious and characteristic in her dusky wavy hair. +For the rest, the brow has not very large capacity; and the mouth wants +something both in frankness and sensitiveness, I should say. But what +can one see in a morning visit? I must wait for another opportunity. +She spends to-morrow evening with us, and talks of remaining in Florence +till the end of next week--so I shall see and hear more. Her books are +not so much to me, I confess, as the fact is, that she above all women +(yes, and men of the age) has moved the world--and _for good_. + +I hear that Mrs. Gaskell is coming, whom I am sure to like and love. I +know _that_ by her letters, though I was stupid or idle enough to let +our correspondence go by; and by her books, which I earnestly admire. +How anxious I am to see the life of Charlotte Bronte! But we shall have +to wait for it here. + +Dearest friend, you don't mention Madme de Goethe, but I do hope you +will have her with you before long. The good to you will be immense, and +after friendship (and reason) the sun and moon and earth of Italy will +work for you in their places. May God grant to us all that you may be +soon strong enough to throw every burden behind you! The griefs that are +incurable are those which have our own sins festering in them.... + +On April 6 we had tea out of doors, on the terrace of our friend Miss +Blagden in her villa up [at] Bellosguardo (not exactly Aurora +Leigh's,[54] mind). You seemed to be lifted up above the world in a +divine ecstasy. Oh, what a vision! + +Have you read Victor Hugo's 'Contemplations'? We are doing so at last. +As for _me_, my eyes and my heart melted over them--some of the personal +poems are overcoming in their pathos; and nothing more exquisite in +poetry can express deeper pain.... + +Robert comes back. He says that Mrs. Stowe was very simple and pleasant. +He likes her. So shall I, I think. She has the grace, too, to admire our +Florence. + +Your ever affectionate +BA. + +I dare say the illustrations will be beautiful. But you are at work on a +new book, are you not? + + * * * * * + + +The mention of the 'Contemplations' of Victor Hugo in the preceding +letter supplies a clue to the date of the following draft of an appeal +to the Emperor Napoleon on behalf of the poet, which has been found +among Mrs. Browning's papers. An endorsement on the letter says that it +was not sent, but it is none the less worthy of being printed. + + * * * * * + + +_To the Emperor Napoleon_ + +[April 1857.] + +Sire,--I am only a woman, and have no claim on your Majesty's attention +except that of the weakest on the strongest. Probably my very name as +the wife of an English poet, and as named itself a little among English +poets, is unknown to your Majesty. I never approached my own sovereign +with a petition, nor am skilled in the way of addressing kings. Yet +having, through a studious and thoughtful life, grown used to great men +(among the dead, at least), I cannot feel entirely at a loss in speaking +to the Emperor Napoleon. + +And I beseech you to have patience with me while I supplicate you. It is +not for myself nor for mine. + +I have been reading with wet eyes and a swelling heart (as many who love +and some who hate your Majesty have lately done) a book called the +'Contemplations' of a man who has sinned deeply against you in certain +of his political writings, and who expiates rash phrases and +unjustifiable statements in exile in Jersey. I have no personal +knowledge of this man; I never saw his face; and certainly I do not come +now to make his apology. It is, indeed, precisely because he cannot be +excused that, I think, he might worthily be forgiven. For this man, +whatever else he is not, is a great poet of France, and the Emperor, who +is the guardian of her other glories, should remember him and not leave +him out. Ah, sire, what was written on 'Napoleon le Petit' does not +touch your Majesty; but what touches you is, that no historian of the +age should have to write hereafter, 'While Napoleon III. reigned, Victor +Hugo lived in exile.' What touches you is, that when your people count +gratefully the men of commerce, arms, and science secured by you to +France, no voice shall murmur, 'But where is our poet?' What touches you +is, that, however statesmen and politicians may justify his exclusion, +it may draw no sigh from men of sentiment and impulse, yes, and from +women like myself. What touches you is, that when your own beloved young +prince shall come to read these poems (and when you wish him a princely +nature, you wish, sire, that such things should move him), he may exult +to recall that his imperial father was great enough to overcome this +great poet with magnanimity. + +Ah, sire, you are great enough! You can allow for the peculiarity of the +poetical temperament, for the temptations of high gifts, for the fever +in which poets are apt to rage and suffer beyond the measure of other +men. You can consider that when they hate most causelessly there is a +divine love in them somewhere; and that when they see most falsely they +are loyal to some ideal light. Forgive this enemy, this accuser, this +traducer. Disprove him by your generosity. Let no tear of an admirer of +his poetry drop upon your purple. Make an exception of him, as God made +an exception of him when He gave him genius, and call him back _without +condition_ to his country and his daughter's grave. + +I have written these words without the knowledge of any. Naturally I +should have preferred, as a woman, to have addressed them through the +mediation of the tender-hearted Empress Eugenie; but, a wife myself, I +felt it would be harder for her Majesty to pardon an offence against the +Emperor Napoleon, than it could be for the Emperor. + +And I am driven by an irresistible impulse to your Majesty's feet to ask +this grace. It is a woman's voice, sire, which dares to utter what many +yearn for in silence. I have believed in Napoleon III. Passionately +loving the democracy, I have understood from the beginning that it was +to be served throughout Europe in you and by you. I have trusted you for +doing greatly. I will trust you, besides, for pardoning nobly. You will +be Napoleon in this also. + +ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + + +Shortly after this date, on April 17, Mrs. Browning's father died. In +the course of the previous summer an attempt made by a relative to bring +about a reconciliation between him and his daughters was met with the +answer that they had 'disgraced his family;' and, although he professed +to have 'forgiven' them, he refused all intercourse, removed his family +out of town when the Brownings came thither, and declined to give his +daughter Henrietta's address to Mr. Kenyon's executor, who was +instructed to pay her a small legacy. A further attempt at +reconciliation was made by Mrs. Martin only a few months before his +death, but had no better success. His pride stood in the way of his +forgiveness to the end. + +On receiving the news of his death, the following letter was written by +Robert Browning to Mrs. Martin; but it was not until two months later +that Mrs. Browning was able to bring herself to write to anyone outside +her own family. + + * * * * * + + +_Robert Browning to Mrs. Martin_ + +Florence: May 3, 1857. + +My dear Mrs. Martin,--Truest thanks for your letter. We had the +intelligence from George last Thursday week, having been only prepared +for the illness by a note received from Arabel the day before. Ba was +sadly affected at first; miserable to see and hear. After a few days +tears came to her relief. She is now very weak and prostrated, but +improving in strength of body and mind: I have no fear for the result. I +suppose you know, at least, the very little that we know; and how +unaware poor Mr. Barrett was of his imminent death: 'he bade them,' says +Arabel, 'make him comfortable for the night, but a moment before the +last.' And he had dismissed her and her aunt about an hour before, with +a cheerful or careless word about 'wishing them good night.' So it is +all over now, all hope of better things, or a kind answer to entreaties +such as I have seen Ba write in the bitterness of her heart. There must +have been something in the organisation, or education, at least, that +would account for and extenuate all this; but it has caused grief +enough, I know; and now here is a new grief not likely to subside very +soon. Not that Ba is other than reasonable and just to herself in the +matter: she does not reproach herself at all; it is all mere grief, as I +say, that this should have been _so_; and I sympathise with her there. + +George wrote very affectionately to tell me; and dear, admirable Arabel +sent a note the very next day to prove to Ba that there was nothing to +fear on her account. Since then we have heard nothing. The funeral was +to take place in Herefordshire. We had just made up our minds to go on +no account to England this year. Ba felt the restraint on her too +horrible to bear. I will, or she will, no doubt, write and tell you of +herself; and you must write, dear Mrs. Martin, will you not? + +Kindest regard to Mr. Martin and all. + +Yours faithfully ever, +ROBERT BROWNING. + + * * * * * + + +_E.B. Browning to Mrs. Martin_ + +Florence: July 1, [1857]. + +Thank you, thank you from my heart, my dearest friend--this poor heart, +which has been so torn and mangled,--for your dear, tender sympathy, +whether expressed in silence or in words. Of the past I cannot speak. +You understand, yes, you understand. And when I say that you understand +(and feel that you do), it is an expression of belief in the largeness +of your power of understanding, seeing that few _can_ understand--few +can. There has been great bitterness--great bitterness, which is +natural; and some recoil against myself, more, perhaps, than is quite +rational. Now I am much better, calm, and not despondingly calm (as, +off and on, I have been), able to read and talk, and keep from vexing my +poor husband, who has been a good deal tried in all these things. +Through these three months you and what you told me touched me with a +thought of comfort--came the nearest to me of all. May God bless you and +return it to you a hundredfold, dear dear friend! + +I believe _hope_ had died in me long ago of reconciliation in this +world. Strange, that what I called 'unkindness' for so many years, in +departing should have left to me such a sudden desolation! And yet, it +is not strange, perhaps. + +No, I cannot write any more. You will understand.... + +We shall be in Paris next summer. This year we remain quietly where we +are. Presently we may creep to the seaside or into the mountains to +avoid the great heats, but no further. My temptation is to lie on the +sofa, and never stir nor speak, only I don't give up, be certain. I +drive out for two or three hours on most days, and I hear Peni's +lessons, and am good and obedient. If I could get into hard regular work +of some kind, it would be excellent for me, I know; but the 'flesh is +weak.' Oh, no, to have gone to England this summer would have _helped +nobody_, and would have been very overcoming to _me_. I was not fit for +it, indeed, and Robert was averse on his own account.... + +May God bless you both, dearest friends. My little Penini is bright and +well. I have begun to teach him German. I do hope you won't fatigue +yourselves too much at Colwall. Enjoy the summer and the roses, and be +well, be well. We shall meet next year.... + +Once more, goodbye. + +Your ever affectionate and grateful +BA. + +Robert's love as ever. + +This is the first letter I have written to anyone out of my own family. +I hate writing, and can't help being stupid. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss E.F. Haworth_ + +Florence: [about July 1857]. + +I write soon, you see, dearest Fanny. I thank you for all, but I do +beseech you, _dear_, not to say a word more to me of what is said of me. +The truth is, I am made of paper, and it tears me. Do not, dear. Make no +reference to things personal to myself. As far as I could read and +understand, it was absurd, perfectly _ungenuine_. I shall say nothing to +anybody. I have torn that sheet. Do not refer to the subject to Isa +Blagden. And there--I have done. + +No--I thank you; and I know it was your kindness entirely. Will you, if +you love me, _not_ touch on the subject (I mean on the personal thing to +myself) in your next letters, not even by saying that you were sorry you +did once touch on them. I know how foolish and morbid I must seem to +you. So I am made, and I can't help my idiosyncrasies. + +Now don't mistake me. Tell me all about the spirits, only not about what +they say of _me_. I am very interested. The drawback is, that without +any sort of doubt they _personate falsely_. + +We are seething in the heat. The last three days have been a composition +of Gehenna and Paradise. It is a perpetual steam bath. Yet Robert and I +have not finished our plans for escaping. Mrs. Jameson is here still, +recovering her health and spirits. The Villa hospitality goes on as +usual, and the evening before last we had tea on the terrace by a divine +sunset, with a favoring breath or two. Only even there we wished for +Lazarus's finger. + +Certainly Florence will not be bearable many days longer. Write to me +though, at Florence as usual.... + +It is said that Hume, who is back again in Paris and under the shadow of +the Emperor's wing, has been the means of an extraordinary +manifestation, two spiritual figures, male and female, who were +_recognised_ by their friends. Five or six persons (including the +medium) fainted away at this apparition. It happened in Paris, lately. + +Yes, I mistrust the mediums less than I do the spirits who write. Tell +me.... + +Write and tell me everything _with exceptions_ such as I have set down. +And forgive my poor brittle body, which shakes and breaks. May God love +you, dear. + +Yours in true affection, +BA. + + * * * * * + + +At the end of July, Florence had become unbearable, and the Brownings +removed, for the third time, to the Bagni di Lucca, whither they were +followed by some of their friends, notably Miss Blagden and Mr. Robert +Lytton. Unfortunately, their holiday was marred by the dangerous illness +of Lytton, which not only kept them in great anxiety for a considerable +time, but also entailed much labour in nursing on Mr. Browning and Miss +Blagden. Besides Mrs. Browning's letters, a letter from her husband to +his sister is given below, containing an account of the earlier stages +of the illness. + + * * * * * + + +_Robert Browning to Miss Browning_ + +Bagni di Lucca: August 18, [1857]. + +Dearest,--We arrived here on the 30th last, and two or three days after +were followed by Miss Blagden, Miss Bracken, and Lytton--all for our +sake: they not otherwise wanting to come this way. Lytton arrived +unwell, got worse soon, and last Friday week was laid up with a sort of +nervous fever, caused by exposure to the sun, or something, acting on +his nervous frame: since then he has been very ill in bed--doctor, +anxiety &c. as you may suppose: they are exactly opposite us, at twelve +or fifteen feet distance only. Through sentimentality and economy +combined, Isa would have no nurse (an imbecile arrangement), and all has +been done by her, with me to help: I have sate up four nights out of the +last five, and sometimes been there nearly all day beside....[55] He is +much better to-day, taken broth, and will, I hope, have no relapse, poor +fellow: imagine what a pleasant holiday we all have! Otherwise the place +is very beautiful, and cool exceedingly. We have done nothing notable +yet, but all are very well, Peni particularly so: as for me, I bathe in +the river, a rapid little mountain stream, every morning at 6-1/2, and +find such good from the practice that I shall continue it, and whatever +I can get as like it as possible, to the end of my days, I hope: the +strength of all sorts therefrom accruing is wonderful: I thought the +shower baths perfection, but this is far above it.... I was so rejoiced +to hear from you, and think you so wise in staying another month. I sent +the 'Ath.' to 151 R. de G. Kindest love to papa: we can't get news from +England, but the Americans have paid up the rest of the money for +'Aurora:' by the by, in this new book of Ruskin's, the drawing book,[56] +he says '"Aurora Leigh" is the finest poem written in any language this +century.' There is a review of it, which I have not yet got, in the +'Rivista di Firenze' of this month. God bless you. I will write very +soon again. Do you write at once. Ba will add a word. How fortunate +about the books! How is Milsand? Pray always remember my best love to +him. + + * * * * * + + +_E.B. Browning to Miss Browning_ + +[Same date.] + +My dearest Sarianna,--Robert will have told you, I dare say, what a +heavy time we have had here with poor Lytton. It was imprudent of him +to come to Florence at the hottest of the year, and to expose himself +perfectly unacclimated; and the chance by which he was removed here just +in time to be nursed was happy for him and all of us. We have had great +heat in the days even here, of course--no blotting out, even by +mountains, of the Italian sun; but the cool nights extenuate very +much--refresh and heal. Now I do hope the corner is turned of the +illness. Isa Blagden has been devoted, sitting up night after night, and +Robert has sate up four nights that she might not really die at her +post. There is nothing _infectious_ in the fever, so don't be afraid. +Robert is quite well, with good appetite and good spirits, and Peni is +like a rose possessed by a fairy. They both bathe in the river, and +profit (as I am so glad you do). Not that it's a real river, though it +has a name, the _Lima_. A mere mountain stream, which curls itself up +into holes in the rocks to admit of bathing. Then, as far as they have +been able on account of Lytton, they have had riding on donkeys and +mountain ponies, Peni as bold as a lion. + +[_The last words of the letter, with the signature, have been cut off_] + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +La Villa, Bagni di Lucca: August 22, [1857]. + +As you bid me write, my dear friend, about Lytton, I write, but I grieve +to say we are still very uneasy about him. For sixteen days he has been +prostrate with this gastric fever, and the disease is not baffled, +though the pulse is not high nor the head at all affected. Dr. Trotman, +however, is uncheerful about him--is what medical men call '_cautious_' +in giving an opinion, observing that, though _at present_ he is not in +danger, the delicacy of his constitution gives room for great +apprehension in the case of the least turning towards relapse. Robert +had been up with him during eight nights, and Isa Blagden eight nights. +Nothing can exceed her devotion to him by night or day. We have +persuaded her, however, at last to call in a nurse for the nights. I am +afraid for Robert, and in fact a trained nurse can do certain things +better than the most zealous and tender friend can pretend to do. You +may suppose how saddened we all are. Dear Lytton! At intervals he talks +and can hear reading, but this morning he is lower again. In fact, from +the first he has been very apprehensive about himself--inclined to talk +of divine things, of the state of his soul and God's love, and to hold +this life but slackly. + +I feel I am writing a horrible account to you. You will conclude the +worst from it, and that is what I don't want you to do. The pulse has +never been high, and is now much lower, and if he can be kept from a +relapse he will live. I pray God he may live. He is not altered in the +face, and Dr. Trotman reiterated this morning, 'There _is no_ danger at +present.' + +You are better. I thank God for it. Oh, yes, it is very beautiful, that +cathedral. The weather here is cool and enjoyable by day even. At nights +it is really cold, and I _have_ thought of a blanket once or twice as of +a thing tolerable. I will write again when there is a change. The course +of the fever may extend to six days more. + +Your ever most affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +Thursday, [end of August 1857]. + +Dearest Friend,--I think it better to inclose to you this letter which +has come to your address. Thank you for your kind words about Lytton, +which will be very soothing to him. He continues better, and is +preparing to take his first drive to-day, for half an hour, with his +_nurse_ and Robert. See how weak he must be, and the hollow cheeks and +temples remain as signs of the past. Still, he is convalescent, and +begins to think of poems and apple puddings in a manner other than +celestial. I do thank God that our anxieties have ended so. + +Robert bathes in the river every morning, which does him great good; +besides the rides at mornings and evenings on mountain ponies with +Annette Bracken and a Crimean hero (as Mrs. Stisted has it), who has +turned up at the hotel, with one leg and so many agreeable and amiable +qualities that everybody is charmed with him. + +Robert had a letter from Chapman yesterday. Not much news. He speaks of +two penny papers, sold lately, after making the fortune of their +proprietors, for twenty-five and thirty-five thousand pounds. If Robert +'could but write bad enough,' says the learned publisher, he should +recommend one of them. But even Charles Reade was found too good, and +the sale fell ten thousand in a few weeks on account of a serial tale of +his, so he had to make place to his _worses_. Chapman hears of a +'comprehensive review' being about to appear in the 'Westminster' on +'Aurora,' whether for or against he cannot tell. The third edition sells +well. + +So happy I am to hear that Mr. Procter's son is safe. We saw his name in +the 'Galignani,' and were alarmed. Lytton has heard from Forster, but I +had no English news from the letter. I get letters from my sisters which +make me feel '_froissee_' all over, except that they seem pretty well. +My eldest brother has returned from Jamaica, and has taken a place with +a Welsh name on the Welsh borders for three years--what I knew he would +do. He wrote me some tender words, dear fellow.... + +May God bless you! + +Yours in much love, BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss E.F. Haworth_ + +La Villa, Bagni di Lucca: +September 14, 1857 [postmark]. + +My dearest Fanny,--A letter from me will have crossed yours and told you +of all our misadventures. It has been a summer to me full of blots, +vexations, anxieties; and if, in spite of everything, I am physically +stronger for the fresh air and smell of green leaves, that's a proof +that soul and body are two. + +Our friends of the hotel went away last Saturday, and I have a letter +from Isa Blagden with a good account of Lytton. He goes back to Villa +Bricchieri, where they are to house together, unless Sir Edward comes +down (which he may do) to catch up his son and change the plan. Isa has +not quite killed herself with nursing him, a little of her being still +left to express what has been. + +Now, dear Fanny, I am going to try to tell you of _our_ plans. No, +'plans' is not the word; our thoughts are in the purely elemental state +so far. But we _think_ of going to Rome (or Naples) at the far end of +November, and of staying here as many days deep into October meanwhile +as the cold mountain air will let us. On leaving this place we go to +Florence and wait. Unless, indeed (which is possible too), we go to +Egypt and the Holy Land, in which case we shall not remain where we are +beyond the end of September.... + +I never could consent to receive my theology or any other species of +guidance, in fact--from the 'spirits,' so called. I have no more +confidence, apart from my own conscience and discretionary selection, in +spirits out of the body than in those embodied. The submission of the +whole mind and judgment carries you in either case to the pope--or to +the devil. So _I_ think. Don't let them bind you hand and foot. Resist. +Be yourself. Also where (as in the medium-writing) you have the human +mixture to evolve the spiritual sentiment from, the insecurity becomes +doubly insecure.... + +Your ever affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +The end of the time at the Bagni di Lucca was clouded by another +anxiety, caused by the illness of Penini. It was not, however, a long +one, and early in October the whole party was able to return to +Florence, where they remained throughout the winter and the following +spring. Letters of this period are, however, scarce, and there is +nothing particular to record concerning it. Since the publication of +'Aurora Leigh,' Mrs. Browning had been taking a holiday from poetical +composition; indeed she never resumed it on a large scale, and published +no other volume save the 'Poems before Congress,' which were the fruit +of a later period of special excitement. She had put her whole self into +'Aurora Leigh,' and seemed to have no further message to give to +mankind. It is evident, too, that her strength was already beginning to +decline and the various family and public anxieties which followed 1856 +made demands on what remained of it too great to allow of much +application to poetry. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss E.F. Haworth_ + +[Bagni di Lucca:] Monday, September 28, [1857]. + +You will understand too well why I have waited some days before +answering your letter, dearest Fanny, though you bade me write at once, +when I tell you that my own precious Penini has been ill with gastric +fever and is even now confined to his bed. Eleven days ago, when he was +looking like a live rose and in an exaggeration of spirits, he proposed +to go with me, to run by my portantina in which I went to pay a visit +some mile and a half away. The portantini men walked too fast for him, +and he was tired and heated. Then, while I paid my visit, he played by +the river with a child of the house, and returned with me in the dusk. +He complained of being tired during the return, and I took him up into +my portantina for ten minutes. He was over-tired, however, over-heated, +over-chilled, and the next day had fever and complained of his head. We +did not think much of it; and the morning after he seemed so recovered +that we took him with us to dine in the mountains with some American +friends (the Eckleys--did you hear of them in Rome?)--twenty miles in +the carriage, and ten miles on donkey-back. He was in high spirits, and +came home at night singing at the top of his voice--probably to keep off +the creeping sense of illness, for he has confessed since that he felt +unwell even then. The next day the fever set in. The medical man doubted +whether it was measles, scarlatina, or what; but soon the symptoms took +the decisive aspect. He has been in bed, strictly confined to bed, since +last Sunday-week night--strictly confined, except for one four hours, +after which exertion he had a relapse. It is the same fever as Mr. +Lytton's, only not as severe, I thank God; the attacks coming on at +nights chiefly, and terrifying us, as you may suppose. The child's +sweetness and goodness, too, his patience and gentleness, have been very +trying. He said to me, 'You pet! don't be unhappy for _me_. Think it's a +poor little boy in the street, and be just only a little sorry, and not +unhappy at all.' Well, we may thank God that the bad time seems passed. +He is still in bed, but it is a matter of precaution chiefly. The fever +is quite in abeyance--has been for two days, and we have all to be +grateful for two most tranquil nights. He amuses himself in putting maps +together, and cutting out paper, and packing up his desk to _go to +Florence_, which is the _idee fixe_ just now. In fact when he can be +moved we shall not wait here a day, for the rains have set in, and the +dry elastic air of Florence will be excellent for him. The medical man +(an Italian) promises us almost that we may be able to go in a week +from this time; but we won't hurry, we will run no risks. For some days +he has been allowed no other sort of nourishment but ten +dessert-spoonfuls of thin broth twice a day--literally nothing; not a +morsel of bread, not a drop of tea, nothing. Even now the only change +is, a few more spoonfuls of the same broth. It is hard, for his appetite +cries out aloud; and he has agonising visions of beefsteak pies and +buttered toast seen in _mirage_. Still his spirits don't fail on the +whole and now that the fever is all but gone, they rise, till we have to +beg him to be quiet and not to talk so much. He had the flower-girl in +by his bedside yesterday, and it was quite impossible to help laughing, +so many Florentine airs did he show off. 'Per Bacco, ho una fame +terribile, e non voglio aver piu pazienza con questo Dottore.' The +doctor, however, seems skilful.... + +But you may think how worn out I have been in body and soul, and how +under these circumstances we think little of Jerusalem or of any other +place but our home at Florence. Still, we shall probably pass the winter +either at Rome or Naples, but I know no more than a swaddled baby which. +Also we _shan't_ know, probably, till the end of November, when we take +out our passports. Doubt is our element.... + +I must go to my Peni. I am almost happy about him now. And yet--oh, his +lovely rosy cheeks, his round fat little shoulders, his strength and +spring of a month ago!--at the best, we must lose our joy and pride in +these for a time. May God bless you! I know you will feel for me, and +that makes me so egotistical. + +Your ever affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +[Florence: February 1858.] + +My dearest Sarianna,--Robert is going to write to dear M. Milsand, whose +goodness is 'passing that of men,' of all common friends certainly. +Robert's thanks are worth more than mine, and so I shall leave it to +Robert to thank him. + +The 'grippe' has gripped us here most universally, and no wonder, +considering our most exceptional weather; and better the grippe than the +fever which preceded it. Such cold has not been known here for years, +and it has extended throughout the south, it seems, to Rome and Naples, +where people are snowed and frozen up. So strange. The Arno, for the +first time since '47, has had a slice or two of ice on it. Robert has +suffered from the prevailing malady, which did not however, through the +precautions we took, touch his throat or chest, amounting only to a bad +cold in the head. Peni was afflicted in the same way but in a much +slighter degree, and both are now quite well. As for me I have caught no +cold--only losing my breath and my soul in the usual way, the cough not +being much. So that we have no claim, any of us, on your compassion, you +see.... + +I think, I think Miss Blackwell has succeeded in frightening you a +little. In the case of _chaos_, she will fly to England, I suppose; and +even there she may fall on a refugee plot; for I have seen a letter of +Mazzini's in which it was written that people stood on ruins in England, +and that at any moment there might be a crash! Certainly, confusion in +Paris would be followed by confusion in Italy and everywhere on the +Continent at least, so I should never think of running away, let what +might happen. In '52 and '53, when we were in Paris, there was more +danger than _could_ arise now, under a successful plot even; for, even +if the Emperor fell, the people and the army seem prepared to stand by +the dynasty. Also, public order has attained to some of the force of an +habitual thing. + +As to the crime,[57] it has no more sympathy here than in France--be +sure of that. That unscrupulous bad party is repudiated by this +majority--by this people as a mass. I hear nothing but lamentations +that Italians should be dishonored so by their own hands. Father Prout +says that the Emperor's speech is 'the most heroic document of this +century,' and in my mind the praise is merited. So indignant I feel with +Mazzini and all who name his name and walk in his steps, that I couldn't +find it in my heart to write (as I was going to do) to that poor +bewitched Jessie on her marriage. Really, when I looked at the pen, I +_couldn't move it_.... + +Best love from +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +Florence: March 27 [1858] + +This moment I take up my pen to write to you, my dearest Mrs. Martin. +Did you not receive a long letter I wrote to you in Paris? No? Answer me +categorically.... + +And you are not very strong, even now? That grieves me. But here is the +sun to make us all strong. For my part, my chest has not been +particularly wrong this winter, nor my cough too troublesome. But the +weight of the whole year heavy with various kinds of trouble, added to a +trying winter, seems to have stamped out of me the vital fluid, and I am +physically low, to a degree which makes me glad of renewed opportunities +of getting the air; and I mean to do little but drive out for some time. +It does not answer to be mastered so. For months I have done nothing but +dream and read French and German romances; and the result (of learning a +good deal of German) isn't the most useful thing in the world one can +attain to. Then, of course, I teach Peni for an hour or so. He reads +German, French, and, of course, Italian, and plays on the piano +remarkably well, for which Robert deserves the chief credit. A very +gentle, sweet child he is; sweet to look at and listen to; affectionate +and good to live with, a real 'treasure' so far. His passion is music; +and as we are afraid of wearing his brain, we let him give most of his +study-time to the piano. + +So you want me, you expect me, I suppose, to approve of the miserable, +undignified, unconscientious doings in England on the conspiracy +question?[58] No, indeed. I would rather we had lost ten battles than +stultified ourselves in the House of Commons with Brummagem brag and +Derby intrigues before the eyes of Europe and America. It seems to me +utterly pitiful. I hold that the most susceptible of nations should not +reasonably have been irritated by the Walewski despatch, which was +absolutely true in its statement of facts. Ah, dearest friend, _how_ +true I know better than you do; for I know of knowledge how this +doctrine of assassination is held by chief refugees and communicated to +their disciples in England--yes, to noble hearts, and to English hands +still innocent--my very soul has bled over these things. With my own +ears I have heard them justified. For nights I have been disturbed in my +sleep with the thoughts of them. In the name of liberty, which I love, +and of the Democracy, which I honour, I protest against them. And if +such things can be put down, I hold they should be put down; and that +the Conspiracy Bill is the smallest and lightest step that can be taken +towards the putting down. For the rest, the great Derby intrigue, as +shown in its acts, and as resulting in its State papers, nothing in +history, it seems to me, was ever so small and mean. + +What I think of _him_? Why, I think he is the only great man of his age, +speaking of public men. I think 'Napoleon III devant le peuple anglais' +a magnificent State paper. I confess to you it drew the tears to my eyes +as I read it. So grand, so calm, so simply true! + +And now with regard to Switzerland. You must remember that there is such +a thing as an international law, and that only last year the Swiss +appealed in virtue of it to France about the Neufchatel refugees, and +that France received and acted on that appeal. The very translation of +the French despatch adds to the injustice done to it in England; because +'_insister_' does not mean to 'insist upon a thing being done,' but to +'urge it upon one's attention.' + +'The Times,' 'The Times.' Why, 'The Times' has intellect, but no +conscience. 'The Times' is the most immoral of journals, as well as the +most able. 'The Times,' on this very question of the Conspiracy Bill, +has swerved, and veered, and dodged, till its readers may well be dizzy +if they read every paragraph every day. + +See how I fall into a fury. 'Oh, Liberty! I would cry, like the woman +who did not love liberty more than I do--'Oh, Liberty, what deeds are +done in thy name!' and (looking round Italy) what sorrows are suffered! + +For I do fear that Mazzini is at the root of the evil; that man of +unscrupulous theory! + +Now you will be enough disgusted with me. Tell me that you and dear Mr. +Martin forgive me. I never saw Orsini, but have heard and known much of +him. Unfortunate man. He died better than he lived--it is all one can +say. Surely you admit that the permission to read that letter on the +trial was large-hearted. And it has vexed Austria to the last degree, I +am happy to say. It was not allowed to be read here, by the Italian +public, I mean. + +Our plans are perfectly undefined, but we do hope to escape England.... +Robert talks of Egypt for the winter. I don't know what may happen; and +in the meantime would rather not be pulled and pulled by kind people in +England, who want me or fancy they do. You know everybody is as free as +I am now, and freer; and if they do want me, and it isn't fancy--never +mind! We may see you perhaps, in Paris, after all, this summer.... + +Now let me tell you. Hume, my _protege_ prophet, is in Italy. Think of +that. He was in Pisa and in Florence for a day, saw friends of his and +acquaintances of ours with whom he stayed four months on the last +occasion, and who implicitly believe in him. An Englishwoman, who from +infidel opinions was converted by his instrumentality to a belief in the +life after death, has died in Paris, and left him an annuity of L240, +English. On coming here, he paid all his wandering debts, I am glad to +hear, and is even said to have returned certain _gifts_ which had been +rendered unacceptable to him from the bad opinion of the givers. I hear, +too, that his manners, as well as morals, are wonderfully improved. He +is gone to Rome, and will return here to pay a visit to his friends in +Florence after a time. The object of his coming was health. While he +passed through Tuscany, the _power_ seemed to be leaving him, but he has +recovered it tenfold, says my informant, so I hope we shall hear of more +wonders. Did you read the article in the 'Westminster'? The subject _se +prete au ridicule_, but ridicule is not disproof. The Empress Eugenie +protects his little sister, and has her educated in Paris. + +Surely I have made up for silence. Dearest friends, both of you, may God +bless you! + +Your affectionate +BA. + +Robert's love and Peni's. + + * * * * * + + +In the summer of 1858 an expedition was made to France, in order to +visit Mr. Browning's father and sister; but no attempt was made to +extend the journey into England. In fact, the circle of their flights +from Florence was becoming smaller; and as 1856 saw Mrs. Browning's last +visit to England, so 1858 saw her last visit to France, or, indeed, +beyond the borders of Italy at all. It was only a short visit, too,--not +longer than the usual expeditions into the mountains to escape the +summer heat of Florence. In the beginning of July they reached Paris, +where they stayed at the Hotel Hyacinthe, rue St. Honore, for about a +fortnight, before going on to Havre in company with old Mr. Browning and +Miss Browning. There they remained until September, when they returned +to Paris for about a month, and thence, early in October, set out for +Italy. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss E.F. Haworth_ + +Hotel Hyacinthe, St. Honore: +Wednesday and Thursday, July 8, 1858 [postmark]. + +My dearest Fanny,--The scene changes. No more cypresses, no more +fireflies, no more dreaming repose on burning hot evenings. Push out the +churches, push in the boulevards. Here I am, sitting alone at this +moment, in an hotel near the Tuileries, where we have taken an apartment +for a week, a pretty salon, with the complement of velvet sofas, and +arm-chairs, and looking-glasses, and bedrooms to correspond, with clocks +at distances of three yards, as if the time was in desperate danger of +forgetting itself--which it is, of course. Paris looks more splendid +than ever, and we were not too much out of breath with fatigue, on our +arrival last night, to admit of various cries of admiration from all of +us. It is a wonderfully beautiful city; and wonderfully cold considering +the climate we came from. Think of our finding ourselves forced into +winter suits, and looking wistfully at the grate. I did so this morning. +But now there is sunshine. + +We had a prosperous journey, except the sea voyage which prostrated all +of us--_Annunziata_, to 'the lowest deep' of misery. At Marseilles we +slept, and again at Lyons and Dijon, taking express trains the whole +way, so that there was as little fatigue as possible; and what with the +reviving change of air and these precautions, I felt less tired +throughout the journey than I have sometimes felt at Florence after a +long drive and much talking. We had scarcely any companions in the +carriages, and were able to stretch to the full longitude of us--a +comfort always; and I had 'Madame Ancelot,' and 'Doit et Avoir,' which +dropped into my bag from Isa's kind fingers on the last evening, and we +gathered 'Galignanis' and 'Illustrations' day by day. Travelling has +really become a luxury. I feel the _repose_ of it chiefly. Yes, no +possibility of unpleasant visitors! no fear of horrible letters! quite +lifted above the plane of bad news, or of the expectation of bad news, +which is nearly the same thing. There you are, shut in, in a carriage! +Quite out of reach of the telegraph even, which you mock at as you run +alongside the wires. + +Yes, but some visitors, some faces, and voices are missed. And +altogether I was very sad at leaving my Italy, oh, very sad!... + +Tell me how you like 'up in the villa' life, and how long you shall bear +it. + +Paris! I have not been out of the house, except when I came into it. But +to-day, Thursday, I mean to drive out a little with Robert. You know I +have a _weakness_ for Paris, and a _passion_ for Italy; which would +operate thus, perhaps, that I could easily stay here when once here, if +there was but a sun to stay with me. We are in admiration, all of us, at +everything, from cutlets to costumes. On the latter point I shall give +myself great airs over you barbarians presently--no offence to +Zerlinda--and, to begin, pray draw your bonnets more over your faces. + +I would rather send this bit than wait, as I did not write to you from +Marseilles. + +May God bless you! If you knew how happy I think you for being in +Italy--if you knew. + +I shiver with the cold. I tie up three loves to send you from + +Your truly affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss I. Blagden_ + +Hotel Hyacinthe, St. Honore, Paris: +Thursday [July 8, 1858]. + +My dearest dear Isa,--We are here, having lost nothing--neither a carpet +bag nor a bit of our true love for you. We arrived the evening before +last, and this letter should have been written yesterday if I hadn't +been interrupted. Such a pleasant journey we had, after the curse of the +sea! ('_Where there shall be no more sea_' beautifies the thought of +heaven to me. But Frederick Tennyson's prophets shall compound for as +many railroads as they please.) + +In fact, we did admirably by land. We were of unbridled extravagance, +and slept both at Lyons and Dijon, and travelled by express trains +besides, so that we were almost alone the whole way, and able to lie at +full length and talk and read, and 'Doit et Avoir' did duty by me, I +assure you--to say nothing of 'Galignanis' and French newspapers. I was +nearly sorry to arrive, and Robert suggested the facility of 'travelling +on for ever so.' He (by help of _nux_) was in a heavenly state of mind, +and never was the French people--public manners, private customs, +general bearing, hostelry, and cooking, more perfectly appreciated than +by him and all of us. Judge of the courtesy and liberality. _One_ box +had its lid opened, and when Robert disclaimed smuggling, 'Je vous +crois, monsieur' dismissed the others. Then the passport was never +looked at after a glance at Marseilles. I am thinking of writing to the +'Times,' or should be if I could keep my temper. + +So you see, dear Isa, I am really very well for me to be so pert. Yes, +indeed, I am very well. The journey did not overtire me, and change of +air had its usual reviving effect. Also, Robert keeps boasting of his +influx of energies, and his appetite is renewed. We have resolved +nothing about our sea plans, but have long lists of places, and find it +difficult to choose among so many enchanting paradises, with drawbacks +of 'dearness,' &c. &c. Meanwhile we are settled comfortably in an hotel +close to the Tuileries, in a pretty salon and pleasant bedrooms, for +which we don't pay exorbitantly, taken for a week, and we shall probably +outstay the week. Robert has the deep comfort of finding his father, on +whose birthday we arrived, looking ten years younger--really, I may say +so--and radiant with joy at seeing him and Peni. Dear Mr. Browning and +Sarianna will go with us wherever we go, of course. + +Paris looks more beautiful than ever, and we were not too dead to see +this as we drove through the streets on Wednesday evening. The +development of architectural splendour everywhere is really a sight +worth coming to see, even from Italy. Observe, I always feel the charm. +And yet I yearn back to my Florence--the dearer the farther. + +We slept at Dijon, where Robert, in a passion of friendship, went out +twice to stand before Maison Milsand (one of the shows of the town), and +muse and bless the threshold. Little did he dream that Milsand was there +at that moment, having been called suddenly from Paris by the dangerous +illness of his mother. So we miss our friend; but we shall not, I think, +altogether, for he talked of following us to the sea, Sarianna says, and +even if he is restrained from doing this, we shall pass some little time +in Paris on our return, and so see him.... + +Mrs. Jameson is here, but goes on Saturday to England. + +[_Incomplete_] + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss E.F. Haworth_ + +2 Rue de Perry, Le Havre, Maison Versigny: +July 23, 1858 [postmark]. + +My dearest Fanny,-- ... I gave you an account of our journey to Paris, +which I won't write over again, especially as you may have read some +things like it. In Paris we remained a fortnight except a day, and I +liked it as I always like Paris, for which I have a decided fancy. And +yet I did nothing, except in one shop, and in a fiacre driving round and +round, and sometimes at a restaurant, dining round and round. But Paris +is so full of life--murmurs so of the fountain of intellectual youth for +ever and ever--that rolling up the rue de Rivoli (much more the +Boulevards) suggests a quicker beat of the fancy's heart; and I like +it--I like it. The architectural beauty is wonderful. Give me Venice on +water, Paris on land--each in its way is a dream city. If one had but +the sun there--such a sun as one has in Italy! Or if one had no lungs +here--such lungs as are in me. But no. Under actual circumstances +something different from Paris must satisfy me. Also, when all's said +and sighed. I love Italy--I love my Florence. I love that 'hole of a +place,' as Father Prout called it lately--with all its dust, its +cobwebs, its spiders even, I love it, and with somewhat of the kind of +blind, stupid, respectable, obstinate love which people feel when they +talk of 'beloved native lands.' I feel this for Italy, by mistake for +England. Florence is my chimney-corner, where I can sulk and be happy. +But you haven't come to that yet. In spite of which, you will like the +Baths of Lucca, just as you like Florence, for certain advantages--for +the exquisite beauty, and the sense of abstraction from the vulgarities +and vexations of the age, which is the secret of the strange charm of +the south, perhaps--who knows? And yet there are vulgarities and +vexations even in Tuscany, if one digs for them--or doesn't dig, +sometimes.... + +In Paris we saw Father Prout, who was in great force and kindness, and +Charles Sumner, passing through the burning torture under the hands of +French surgeons, which is approved of by the brains of English surgeons. +Do you remember the Jesuit's agony, in the 'Juif Errant'? Precisely +that. Exposed to the living coal for seven minutes, and the burns taking +six weeks to heal. Mr. Sumner refused chloroform--from some foolish +heroic principle, I imagine, and suffered intensely. Of course he is not +able to stir for some time after the operation, and can't read or sleep +from the pain. Now, he is just 'healed,' and is allowed to travel for +two months, after which he is to return and be burned again. Isn't it a +true martyrdom? I ask. What is apprehended is paralysis, or at best +nervous infirmity for life, from the effect of the blows (on the spine) +of that savage. + +Then, just as we arrived in Paris, dear Lady Elgin had another 'stroke,' +and was all but gone. She rallied, however, with her wonderful vitality, +and we left her sitting in her garden, fixed to the chair, of course, +and not able to speak a word, nor even to gesticulate distinctly, but +with the eloquent soul full and radiant, alive to both worlds. Robert +and I sate there, talking politics and on other subjects, and there she +sate and let no word drop unanswered by her bright eyes and smile. It +was a beautiful sight. Robert fed her with a spoon from her soup-plate, +and she signed, as well as she could, that he should kiss her forehead +before he went away. She was always so fond of Robert, as women are apt +to be, you know--even _I_, a little.... + +Forster wrote the other day, melancholy with the misfortunes of his +friends, though he doesn't name Dickens. Landor had just fled to his +(Forster's) house in London for protection from _an action for libel_. + +See what a letter I have written. Write to me, dearest Fanny, and love +me. Oh, how glad I shall be to be back among you again in my Florence! + +Your ever affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +Maison Versigny, 2 Rue de Perry, Le Havre: +July 24, 1858 [postmark]. + +Dearest Mona Nina,--Have you rather wondered at not hearing? We have +been a-wandering, a-wandering over the world--have been to Etretat and +failed, and now are ignominiously settled at Havre--yes, at Havre, the +name of which we should have scorned a week ago as a mere roaring +commercial city. But after all, as sometimes I say with originality, +'civilisation is a good thing.' The country about Etretat is very +pretty, and the coast picturesque with fantastic rocks, but the +accommodation dear in proportion to its badness; which I do believe is +the case everywhere with places, now and then even with persons--dear in +proportion to their badness. We could get three bedrooms, a salon, and +kitchen, one opening into another and no other access, and the kitchen +presenting the first door, all furnished exactly alike, except that +where the bedroom had a bed the kitchen had a stove; wooden chairs _en +suite_, not an inch of carpet, and just an inch of looking-glass in the +best bedroom. View, a potato-patch, and price two hundred francs a +month. Robert took it in a 'fine phrenzy,' on which I rebelled, and made +him give it up on a sacrifice of ten francs, which was the only cheap +thing in the place, as far as I observed anything. Also, the bay is so +restricted that whoever takes a step is 'commanded' by all the windows +of the primitive hotel and the few villas, and as people have nothing +whatever to do but to look at you, you may imagine the perfection of the +analysis. I should have been a fly in a microscope, feeling my legs and +arms counted on all sides, and receiving no comfort from the scientific +results. So, you see, we 'gave it up' and came here in a sort of +despair, meaning to take the railroad to Dieppe; when lo! our examining +forces find that the place here is very tenable, and we take a house +close to the sea (though the view is interrupted) in a green garden, and +quite away from a suggestion of streets and commerce. The bathing is +good, we have a post-office and reading-rooms at our elbow, and nothing +distracting of any kind. The house is large and airy, and our two +families are lodged in separate apartments, though we meet at dinner in +our dining-room. Certainly the country immediately around Havre is not +pretty, but we came for the sea after all, and the sea is open and +satisfactory. Robert has found a hole I can creep through to the very +shore, without walking many yards, and there I can sit on a bench and +get strength, if so it pleases God. + +Have I not sent you a full account of us? Now if you would return me a +cent. per cent.--_soll und haben_. I want so much to know all about +you--how you feel, dearest friend, and how you are. Do write and tell me +of yourself. May God bless you ever and ever! + +Your affectionate and grateful +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Madame Braun_ + +2 Rue do Perry, Le Havre, Maison Versigny: +August 10 [1858]. + +My dearest Madame Braun,--If you have not heard from me before, it has +not been that I have not thought of you anxiously and tenderly, but I +had the idea that so many must be thinking of you, and saying to you +with sad faces 'they were sorry,' that I kept away, not to be the one +too many. It seems so vain when we sympathise with a suffering friend. +And yet it is _something_--oh yes, I have felt that! But you _knew_ I +must feel for you, if I teased you with words or not; and I, for my +part, hearing of you from others, felt shy, as I say, till I heard you +were better, of writing to you myself. And you _are_ feeling better, +Mrs. Jameson tells me, and are somewhat more cheerful about your state. +I thank God for this good news.... + +One of the few reasons for which I regret our absence from England this +summer is that I miss seeing you with my own eyes, and I should like +much to see you and talk to you of things of interest to both of us. If +illness suppresses in us a few sources of pleasure, it leaves the real +_ich_ open to influences and keen-sighted to _facts_ which are as surely +_natural_ as the fly's wing, though we are apt to consider them vaguely +as 'supernatural.' + +'More and more life is what we want' Tennyson wrote long ago, and that +is the right want. Indifference to life is disease, and therefore not +strength. But the life here is only half the apple--a cut out of the +apple, I should say, merely meant to suggest the perfect round of +fruit--and there is in the world now, I can testify to you, _scientific +proof_ that what we call death is a mere change of circumstances, a +change of dress, a mere breaking of the outside shell and husk. This +subject is so much the most interesting to me of all, that I can't help +writing of it to you. Among all the ways of progress along which the +minds of men are moving, this draws me most. There is much folly and +fanaticism, unfortunately, because foolish men and women do not cease to +be foolish when they hit upon a truth. There was a man who hung +bracelets upon plane trees. But it was a tree--it is a +truth--notwithstanding; yes, and so much a truth that in twenty years +the probability is you will have no more doubters of the immortality of +souls, and no more need of Platos to prove it. + +We have come here to dip _me_ in warm sea-water, in order to an +improvement in strength, for I have been very weak and unwell of late, +as perhaps Mrs. Jameson has told you. But the sea and the change have +brought me up again, as I hope they may yourself, and now I am looking +forward to getting back to Italy for the winter, and perhaps to Rome. + +Did you know Lady Elgin in Paris? She has been hopelessly, in the +opinion of her physicians, affected by paralysis, but is now better, her +daughter writes to me. A most remarkable person Lady Elgin is. We left +her sitting in her garden, not able to speak--to articulate one +word--but with one of the most radiant happy faces I ever saw in man or +woman. I think I remember that you knew her. Her salon was one of the +most agreeable in Paris, and she herself, with her mixture of learning +and simplicity, one of the most interesting persons in it.... + +Dearest Madame Braun, I won't think of the possibility even of your +writing to me, so little do I expect to hear. Indeed, I would not write +if I considered it would entail writing upon _you_. Only believe that I +tenderly regard and think of you, and always shall. May God bless you, +my dear friend! Your attached + +ELIZABETH B. BROWNING. + + * * * * * + + +The following letter was written at Paris during the stay there which +intervened between leaving Havre and the return to Florence: + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss I. Blagden_ + +6 Rue de Castiglione, Place Vendome, Paris: +October 2 [1858]. + +My dearest Isa,--I am saddened, saddened by your letter. We both are. +Indeed, this last news from India must have struck--I know it did. +Still, to your generous nature, long regret for your dear Louisa will be +impossible; and you, so given to forget yourself, will come to forget a +grief which is only your own. For she was in the world as not of it, in +a painful sense; she was cut off from the cheerful, natural development +of ordinary human beings; and if, as was probable, the conviction of +this dreary fact had fastened on her mind, the result would have been +perhaps demoralising, certainly depressing, more and more. Rather praise +God for her therefore, dearest Isa, that she is gone above the cloud, +gone where she can exercise active virtues and charities, instead of +being the mild patient object of the charities and virtues of her +friends. Perhaps she ministers to _you_ now instead of being ministered +to by you, while the remembrance of her life on earth is tenderly united +to you ever, a proof before men and angels that _your_ life (whatever +you may please to say of yourself) has not been useless, nor barren of +good and tender deeds.... + +In this letter and the last (such depressed letters!) you compare your +own fate with that of some others with an injustice which God measures, +and which I too have knowledge of. Isa, you speak you know not what. Be +sure of one thing, however, that God has not been niggardly towards you, +and that He never made a creature for which He did not make the work +suited to its hand. He never made a creature necessarily useless, nor +gave a life which it was not sin on the creature's part to hold +unthankfully and throw back as a poor gift. Your excellent understanding +will work clear your spirits presently. Some of those whom you think +enviable, if they showed you their secret griefs, unsuspected by you, +would leave tears in your eyes for _them_, not _you_. Every heart knows +its own bitterness, and God knows when the bitterest drop is necessary +for the heart's health. May He bless you, love you, teach you, +strengthen you, make you serene and bright in Him, dear, dear Isa. I +have spoken as to a sister; I have spoken as to my own soul in an hour +of faintness. Let us take courage, Isa. + +Dear, I had just folded up your parcel for Miss Alexander that my +brother George should take it to-morrow. It has been my first +opportunity for England--at least, for London. But now I will carry it +back to you.... + +Arabel stays with me till we go, which will be in a fortnight perhaps +from now. We have an apartment in an exquisite situation, two paces from +the Tuileries Gardens, first floor, three best bedrooms and two +servants' rooms, a closet of a dining-room, a salon--all small, but +exquisitely comfortable and Parisian, looking into a court though, and +we are not tempted to stay the winter. No; we return to Florence +faithfully. Write again, and be happy, Isa; it is as if I said _be +good_. Tell me, can it be true that Lytton is in Florence with his +mother, as Father Prout assures us on the authority of Lady Walpole?... + +Write to your ever, in word and deed, loving + +BA. + + * * * * * + + +In October the travellers were back in Florence, but this time only for +a short stay of some six weeks, since it was decided that Rome would be +more suitable to Mrs. Browning's failing health during the winter. On +November 24 they reached Rome, and for the next six months were +quartered, as in the winter of 1853-4, at No. 43 Via Bocca di Leone. +Here it was that they heard the first mutterings of the storm which was +to burst during the following year and to result in the making of Italy. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss E.F. Haworth_ + +Casa Guidi: Saturday [about October 1858]. + +You do not come, dearest Fanny, though I am here waiting, and I begin to +be uneasy about you. Do at least write, do. We have been here since +Tuesday, and here is Saturday, and every morning there has been an +anxious looking forward for you.... + +Miss ---- wrote to me in Paris to propose travelling with us, which +Robert lacked chivalry to accede to; and, in fact, our ways of +journeying are too uncertain to admit of arrangements with anyone beyond +our circle. For instance, we took nine days to get here from Paris, +spending only one day at Chambery, for the sake of Les Charmettes and +Rousseau. Robert played the 'Dream' on the old harpsichord, the keys of +which rattled in a ghastly way, as if it were the bones of him who once +so 'dreamed.' Then there was the old watch hung up, without a tick in +it. At St. Jean de Maurienne we got into difficulties with diligences, +and submitted to being thrown out for the night at Lanslebourg, I more +dead than alive, and indeed I suffered much in passing the mountain next +morning. Then again, on the sea, we had a _burrasca_, and the captain +had half a mind when half-way to Leghorn to turn back to Genoa. +Passengers much frightened, including me, a little. A wretched +Neapolitan boat, with a machine 'inclined to go to the devil every time +the wind went anywhere,' as I heard a French gentleman on board say +afterwards. Altogether we were so done up after eighteen hours of it, +that we stayed at Leghorn instead of going on straight to Florence. +Still, now I seem to have got over fatigue and the rest--and we keep our +faces turned undeviatingly to Rome. Mdme. du Quaire having carefully +apprised M. Mignaty that we left Paris on the thirteenth, our friends +here seem to have made up their minds that we had perished by land or +water, and Annunziata's poor sister had passed three days in tears, for +instance. + +Now, dearest Fanny, let me confess to you. I have not brought the +bonnet. A bonnet is a personal matter, and I would not let anyone choose +one for _me_. Still, as you had more faith in man (or woman), I would +have risked even displeasing you, only Robert would not let me. He said +it was absurd--I 'did not know your size;' I 'could not know your +taste;' in fact, he would not let me. Perhaps after all it is better. +You shall see mine, which is the last novelty, and I will tell you the +results of having investigated the bonnet question generally. I was told +at a fashionable shop that hats might be worn out of one's teens; but +in Paris, let me hasten to add, you don't see hats walking about except +on the heads of small girls. In Rome it may be otherwise, as at the +seaside it was. Bonnets are a great deal larger, but you shall see. + +Oh, so glad I am to be back--so glad, so glad! + +And so happy I shall be to see you, dearest Fanny, whom, till now, I +have not thanked for the pretty, pretty sketch. I recognised the persons +at a glance, you threw into them so much character.... + +Your ever most affectionate +E.B.B. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +[Florence: about November 1858.] + +Robert's uncertainty about Rome, my dearest Sarianna, has led him into +delay of writing. We dropped here upon summer, and a few days +afterwards, just as suddenly, the winter dropped upon _us_. Such +wonderful weather, such cold, such snow--enough to strangle one. The +rain has come, however, to-day, and though everything feels wretched +enough, and I am languid about schemes of travelling, we talk of going +next week, should nothing hinder. + + 'If it be possible + After much grief and pain.' + +Peni would rather stay, I believe. His Florence is in his heart still. + +Robert will have told you about his bust,[59] which is exquisite in the +clay, and will be exhibited in London in the marble next May. The +likeness, the poetry, the ideal grace and infantile reality are all +there. I am so happy to have it. I set about teasing Robert till he gave +it to me, and, as he really loses nothing thereby, I accepted at once, +as you may suppose. I would rather have given up Rome and had the bust; +but the artist was generous, and would only accept what would cover the +expenses, twenty-five guineas. He said he 'would not otherwise do it for +us, as he asked in the first place to be allowed to make the sketch in +clay, and would not appear to have laid a trap for an order.' So we are +all three very happy and grateful to one another--which is pleasant. I +feel the most obliged perhaps of the three--obliged to the other +two--and ought to be, after the napoleons dropt in Paris, Sarianna! + +Oh no; the sea was necessary from Genoa. The expense of the journey +would have been very much increased if we had taken the whole way by +land, and it was a great thing to escape that rough Gulf of Lyons. The +journey to Rome will be rendered easy to Robert's pocket by the +extraordinary chance of Mr. Eckley's empty carriage, otherwise the +repeated pulls might have pulled us down too low. + +Peni will write to you. He loves his nonno and you very much--tell +nonno; and my love goes with my message. + +May God bless both of you! Love to M. Milsand. + +Your affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_Robert Browning to Miss Browning_ + +Rome, 43 Bocca di Leone: +Friday, November 26, 1858 [postmark]. + +Dearest Sis,--You received a letter written last thing on Wednesday, +18th. We started next day with perfectly fine mild weather and every +sort of comfort, and got to our first night's stage, Poggio Bagnoli, +with great ease; with the same advantages next day, we passed Arezzo and +reached Camuscia, and on Saturday slept at Perugia, having found the +journey delightful. Sunday was rainy, but just as mild, so Ba did not +suffer at all; we slept at Spoleto. Rain again on Monday. We reached +Terni early in the day in order to go to the Falls, but the thing was +impossible for Ba. Eckley, his mother-in-law, and I went, however, +getting drenched, but they were fine, the rain and melted snow having +increased the waters extraordinarily. On Tuesday we had fine weather +again to Civita Castellana; there we found that on the previous day, +while we were staying at Terni, a carriage was stopped and robbed in the +road we otherwise should have pursued. They said such a thing had not +happened for years. On Wednesday afternoon, four o'clock, we reached +Rome, with beautiful weather; so it had been for some four out of our +seven days. Ba bore the journey irregularly well; of course she has thus +had a week of open air, beside the change, which always benefits her. We +always had the windows of the carriage open. We passed Wednesday night +at an hotel in order to profit by any information friends might be able +to furnish, but we ended by returning to the rooms here we occupied +before, of which we knew the virtues--a blaze of sun on the front +rooms--and absolute healthiness. Rents are enormous; we pay only ten +dollars a month more than before, in consideration of the desire the old +landlady had to get us again. To anybody else the price would have been +20 more--60 in all--for which we are to pay 40. The Eckleys took _good +rooms_ and pay 1,000 (L210 or 15) for six months! One can't do _that_. +The best is that they have thoroughly cleaned and painted the place, and +everything is very satisfactorily arranged. We take the apartment for +four months, meaning to be at liberty to go to Naples if we like. We +have no fire this morning while I write, but it is before breakfast and +Ba may like the sight of one, tho' I rather think she will not. Rome +looks very well, and I hope we shall have a happier time of it than +before. Many friends are here and everybody is very kind. The Eckleys +were extravagantly good to us, something beyond conception almost. We +have seen Miss Cushman, Hatty,[60] Leighton, Cartwright, the Storys, +Page and his new (third) wife, Gibson, beside the Brackens and Mrs. +Mackenzie; and there are others I shall see to-day. Ferdinando was sent +on by sea with the luggage, and met us at the gate. It has been an +expensive business altogether, but I think we shall not regret it. I +daresay you have mild weather at Paris also. These premature beginnings +of cold break down and leave the rest of the year the warmer, if not the +better for them. Dearest Sis, write and tell me all the news of your two +selves. Do you hear anything about Reuben's leaving London? Anything of +Lady Elgin? How is Madame Milsand? I will send you the last 'Ath.' I +have received, but break off here rather abruptly, in order to let Ba +write. Good-bye. God bless you both. Kindest love to Milsand. + +Yours ever affectionately +R.B. + + * * * * * + + +_E.B. Browning to Miss Browning_ + +My dearest Sarianna,--I don't know whether this letter from Rome will +surprise you, but we have done it at last. Our journey was most +prosperous, the wonderful inrush of winter which buried all Italy in +snow, and for some days rendered the possibility of any change of +quarters so more than doubtful (I myself gave it up for days), having +given way to an inrush of summer as wonderful. The change was so +pleasant that I bore with perfect equanimity the lamentations of certain +English acquaintances of ours in Florence, who declared it was the most +frightful and dangerous climate that could be, that now one was frozen +to death and the next day burnt and melted, and that people couldn't be +healthy under such transitions. But all countries of the south are +subject to the same of course wherever there is a southern sun, and +mountains to retain snow. Even in Paris you complain of something a +little like it, because of the sun. We left Florence in a blaze of +sunshine accordingly, and there and everywhere found the country +transfigured back into summer, except for two days of April rain. Of the +kindness of our dear friends Mr. and Mrs. Eckley I am moved when I try +to speak. They humiliate me by their devotion. Such generosity and +delicacy, combined with so much passionate sentiment (there is no other +word), are difficult to represent. The Americans are great in some +respects, not that Americans generally are like these, but that these +could scarcely be English--for instance, that mixture of enthusiasm and +simplicity we have not. Our journey was delightful and not without some +incidents, which might have been accidents. We were as nearly as +possible thrown once into a ditch and once down a mountain precipice, +the spirited horses plunging on one side, but at last Mr. Eckley lent us +his courier, who sate on the box by the coachman and helped him to +manage better. Then there was a fight between our oxen-drivers, one of +them attempting to stab the other with a knife, and Robert rushing in +between till Peni and I were nearly frantic with fright. No harm +happened, however, except that Robert had his trousers torn. And we +escaped afterwards certain banditti, who stopped a carriage only the day +before on the very road we travelled, and robbed it of sixty-two scudi. + +Here at Rome we are still fortunate, for with enormous prices rankling +around us we get into our old quarters at eleven pounds a month. The +rooms are smaller than our ambition would fain climb to (one climbs, +also, a little too high on the stairs), but on the whole the quiet +healthfulness and sunshine are excellent things, particularly in Rome, +and we are perfectly contented.... + +Rome is so full that I am proceeding to lock up my doors throughout the +day. I can't live without some use of life. Here must come the break. +May God bless you both! Pen's love with mine to the dear nonno and +yourself. + +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mr. Ruskin_ + +Rome, 43 Bocca di Leone: January 1, 1859. + +My dear Mr. Ruskin,--There is an impulse upon me to write to you, and as +it ought to have come long ago, I yield to it, and am glad that it comes +on this first day of a new year to inaugurate the time. It may be a good +omen for _me_. Who knows? + +We received your letter at Florence and very much did it touch me--us, I +should say--and then I would have written if you hadn't bade us wait for +another letter, which has not come to this day. Shall I say one thing? +The sadness of that letter struck me like the languor after victory, for +you who have fought many good fights and never for a moment seemed to +despond before, write this word and this. After treading the world down +in various senses, you are tired. It is natural perhaps, but this evil +will pass like other evils, and I wish you from my heart a good clear +noble year, with plenty of work, and God consciously over all to give +you satisfaction. What would this life be, dear Mr. Ruskin, if it had +not eternal relations? For my part, if I did not believe so, I should +lay my head down and die. Nothing would be worth doing, certainly. But I +am what many people call a 'mystic,' and what I myself call a 'realist,' +because I consider that every step of the foot or stroke of the pen here +has some real connection with and result in the hereafter. + +'This life's a dream, a fleeting show!' no indeed. That isn't my +'_doxy_.' I don't think that nothing is worth doing, but that everything +is worth doing--everything good, of course--and that everything which +does good for a moment does good for ever, in _art_ as well as in +morals. Not that I look for arbitrary punishment or reward (the last +least, certainly. I would no more impute merit to the human than your +Spurgeon would), but that I believe in a perpetual sequence, according +to God's will, and in what has been called a 'correspondence' between +the natural world and the spiritual. + +Here I stop myself with a strong rein. It is fatal, dear Mr. Ruskin, to +write letters on New Year's day. One can't help moralising; one falls on +the metaphysical vein unaware. + +Forgive me. + +We are in Rome you see. We have been very happy and found rooms swimming +all day in sunshine, when there is any sun, and yet not ruinously dear. +I was able to go out on Christmas morning (a wonderful event for me) and +hear the silver trumpets in St. Peter's. Well, it was very fine. I never +once thought of the Scarlet Lady, nor of the Mortara case, nor anything +to spoil the pleasure. Yes, and I enjoyed it both aesthetically and +devotionally, putting my own words to the music. Was it wise, or wrong? + +But we have had and are having some cold, some tramontana, and I have +kept house ever since. Only in Rome there's always hope of a good warm +scirocco. We talk of seeing Naples before we turn home to our Florence, +to keep feast for Dante. + +It is delightful to hear of all you are _permitted_ to do for England +meanwhile in matters of art, and one of these days we shall go north to +take a few happy hours of personal advantage out of it all. Not this +year, however, I think. We have done duty to the north too lately. Now +it seems to me we have the right (of virtue, in spite of what I said on +another page, or rather, _because_ I said it in good human +inconsistency), the right to have and hold our Italy in undisturbed +possession. I never feel at home anywhere else, or to _live_ rightly +anywhere else at all. It's a horrible want of patriotism, of course, +only, if I were upon trial, I might say in a low voice a few things to +soften the judgment against me on account of that sin. Ah! we missed you +at Havre! If you had come it would have been something pleasant to +remember that detestable place by, besides the salt-water which profited +one's health a little. We were in Paris too some six weeks in all +(besides eight weeks at Havre!) and Paris has a certain charm for me +always. If we had seen you in Paris! But no, you must have floated past +us, close, close, yet we missed you. + +A good happy new year we wish to Mr. and Mrs. Ruskin, as to yourself, +and, dear Mr. Ruskin, to your mother I shall say that my child is +developing in a way to make me very contented and thankful. Yes, I thank +God for him more and more, and _she_ can understand that, I know. His +musical faculty is a decided thing, and he plays on the piano quite +remarkably for his age (through his father's instruction) while I am +writing this. He is reading aloud to me an Italian translation of 'Monte +Cristo,' and with a dramatic intelligence which would strike you, as it +does perhaps, that I should select such a book for a child of nine years +old to read at all. It's rather young to be acclimated to French novels, +is it not? But the difficulty of getting Italian books is great, and +there's a good deal in the early part of 'Monte Cristo,' the prison +part, very attractive. His voice was full of sobs when poor Dantes was +consigned to the Chateau d'If. "Do you mean to say, mama, that _that +boy_ is to stay there all his life?" He made me tell him 'to make him +happy,' as he said. + +For the rest he reads French and German, and we shall have to begin +Latin in another year I suppose. Do you advise that, you, Mr. Ruskin? He +has not given up the drawing neither. Ah! but there is a weight beyond +the post, whatever your goodness may bear, and I must leave a little +space for Robert. + +May God bless you, my dear friend! Dare I say it? it _came_. + +Affectionately yours always, +ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. + + * * * * * + + +_Robert Browning to Mr. Ruskin_ + +I am to say something, dear Ruskin; it shall be only the best of wishes +for this and all other years; go on again like the noble and dear man +you are to us all, and especially to us two out of them all. Whenever I +chance on an extract, a report, it lights up the dull newspaper stuff +wrapt round it and makes me glad at heart and clearer in head. We, for +our part, have just sent off a corrected 'Aurora Leigh,' which is the +better for a deal of pains, we hope, and my wife deserves. There will be +a portrait from a photograph done at Havre without retouching--good, I +think. Truest love to you and yours--your father and mother. Do help us +by a word every now and then. + +Affectionately yours, +R.B. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss I. Blagden_ + +[Rome]: 43 Bocca di Leone: January 7 [1859]. + +My dearest Isa,--Your letter seemed long in coming, as this will seem to +you, I fear. I ought to have answered mine at once, and put off doing so +from reason to reason, and from day to day. Very busy I have been, +sending off seven of the nine books of 'Aurora,'[61] having dizzied +myself with the 'ifs' and 'ands,' and done some little good I hope at +much cost.... + +As to the Roman climate, we have had some beautiful weather, but Robert +was calling his gods to witness (the goddess Tussis among them) that he +never felt it so cold in Florence--never. Fountains frozen, Isa, and the +tramontana tremendous. But it can't last--that's the comfort at Rome; +and meantime we are housed exquisitely in our lion's mouth; the new +_portiere_ and universal carpeting keeping it snugger than ever, and the +sun over-streaming us through six windows. I have just been saying that +whenever I come to Rome I shall choose to come here. The only fault is, +the height and the smallness of the rooms; and, in spite of the last, we +have managed to have and hold twenty people and upwards through a +_serata_. Peni has had a bad cold, from over-staying the time on the +Pincio one afternoon, and I have kept him in the house these ten days. +Such things one may do by one's lion-cubs; but the lions are harder to +deal with, and Robert caught cold two or three days ago; in spite of +which he chose to get up at six every morning as usual and go out to +walk with Mr. Eckley. Only by miracle and nux is he much better to-day. +I thought he was going to have a furious grippe, as last year and the +year before. I must admit, however, that he is extremely well just now, +to speak generally, and that this habit of regular exercise (with +occasional homoeopathy) has thrown him into a striking course of +prosperity, as to looks, spirits and appetite. He eats 'vulpinely' he +says--which means that a lark or two is no longer enough for dinner. At +breakfast the loaf perishes by Gargantuan slices. He is plunged into +gaieties of all sorts, caught from one hand to another like a ball, has +gone out every night for a fortnight together, and sometimes two or +three times deep in a one night's engagements. So plenty of distraction, +and no Men and Women. Men and women from without instead! I am shut up +in the house of course, and go to bed when he goes out--and the worst +is, that there's a difficulty in getting books. Still, I get what I can, +and stop up the chinks with Swedenborg; and in health am very well, for +me, and in tranquillity excellently well. Not that there are not people +more than enough who come to see me, but that there is nothing vexatious +just now; life goes smoothly, I thank God, and I like Rome better than I +did last time. The season is healthy too (for Rome). I have only heard +of one English artist since we came, who arrived, sickened, died, and +was buried, before anyone knew who he was. Besides ordinary cases of +slight Roman fever among the English, Miss Sherwood (who with her father +was at Florence) has had it slightly, and Mrs. Marshall who came to us +from Tennyson. (A Miss Spring-Rice she was.) But the poor Hawthornes +suffer seriously. Una is dissolved to a shadow of herself by reiterated +attacks, and now Miss Shepherd is seized with gastric fever. Mr. +Hawthorne is longing to get away--where, he knows not. + +My Peni has conquered his cold, and when the weather gets milder I shall +let him out. Meanwhile he has taken to--what do you suppose? I go into +his room at night and find him with a candle regularly settled on the +table by him, and he reading, deeply rapt, an Italian translation of +'Monte Cristo.' Pretty well for a lion-cub, isn't it? He is enchanted +with this book, lent to him by our padrona; and exclaims every now and +then, 'Oh, magnificent, magnificent!' And this morning, at breakfast, he +gravely delivered himself to the following effect: 'Dear mama, for the +future I mean to read _novels_. I shall read all Dumas's, to begin. And +then I shall like to read papa's favourite book, "Madame Bovary."' +Heavens, what a lion-cub! Robert and I could only answer by a burst of +laughter. It was so funny. That little dot of nine and a half full of +such hereditary tendencies. + +And 'Madame Bovary' in a course of education!... + +May God bless you, my much-loved Isa, for this and other years beyond +also! I shall love you all that way--says the genius of the ring. + +Your ever loving +BA. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[46] Ferdinando Romagnoli. He died at Venice, in the Palazzo Rezzonico, +January 1893. His widow (who, as the following letters show, continued +to be called Wilson in the family) is still living with Mr. R.B. +Browning. + +[47] This refers to a note from Mrs. Browning to Miss Haworth, inquiring +whether it was true that she was engaged to be married. + +[48] The notorious medium, prototype of Mr. Browning's 'Sludge.' He +subsequently changed his name to Home. + +[49] An attempted revision of the poem, subsequently abandoned, as +explained in the preface addressed to M. Milsand in 1863. + +[50] Mr. Browning and the boy had been suffering from sore throats. + +[51] For the substance of this information I am indebted to Mr. Charles +Aldrich, to whom the letter was presented by Mrs. Kinney, and through +whose kindness it is here printed. The original now forms part of the +Aldrich collection in the Historical Department of Iowa, U.S.A. + +[52] The husband of Wilson, Mrs. Browning's maid. + +[53] An odd commentary on this 'poem' may be found in Mrs. Orr's _Life +of Robert Browning_, p. 219. + +[54] See _Aurora Leigh_, p. 276: + + 'I found a house at Florence on the hill + Of Bellosguardo. 'Tis a tower which keeps + A post of double observation o'er + That valley of Arno (holding as a hand + The outspread city) straight toward Fiesole + And Mount Morello and the setting sun, + The Vallombrosan mountains opposite, + Which sunrise fills as full as crystal cups + Turned red to the brim because their wine is red. + No sun could die nor yet be born unseen + By dwellers at my villa: morn and eve + Were magnified before us in the pure + Illimitable space and pause of sky, + Intense as angels' garments blanched with God, + Less blue than radiant. From the outer wall + Of the garden drops the mystic floating grey + Of olive trees (with interruptions green + From maize and vine), until 'tis caught and torn + Upon the abrupt black line of cypresses + Which signs the way to Florence. Beautiful + The city lies along the ample vale, + Cathedral, tower and palace, piazza and street, + The river trailing like a silver cord + Through all, and curling loosely, both before + And after, over the whole stretch of land + Sown whitely up and down its opposite slopes + With farms and villas.' + +Miss Blagden's villa was the Villa Bricchieri, which is alluded to +elsewhere in the letters. + +[55] A line or two has been cut off the bottom of the sheet at this +place. + +[56] The _Elements of Drawing_. + +[57] Orsini's attempt on the life of the Emperor Napoleon on January 14, +1858. + +[58] Referring to the Conspiracy Bill introduced by Lord Palmerston +after the Orsini conspiracy against Napoleon in January 1858, and to the +outcry against it, as an act of subservience to France, which led to +Palmerston's fall. Count Walewski was the French Minister for Foreign +Affairs, and his despatch, alluded to below, called the attention of the +English Government to the shelter afforded by England to conspirators of +the type of Orsini. + +[59] A bust of the child, by Monroe. + +[60] Miss Hosmer. + +[61] The fourth edition, in which several alterations were made. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +1859-60 + + +At this point in Mrs. Browning's correspondence we reach the first +allusion to the political crisis which had now become acute, and of +which the letters that follow are full, almost to excess. On January 1 +Napoleon had astounded Europe by his language to the Austrian ambassador +at Paris, in which he spoke of the bad relations unfortunately +subsisting between their States. On the 10th Victor Emmanuel declared +that he must listen to the cry of pain which came up to him from all +Italy. After this it was clear that there was nothing to do but to +prepare for war. It was in vain that England pressed for a European +Congress, with the view of arranging a general disarmament. Sardinia +professed willingness to accept it, but Austria declined, and on April +23 sent an ultimatum to Victor Emmanuel, demanding unconditional +disarmament, which was naturally refused. On the 29th Austria declared +war, and her troops crossed the Ticino--an act which Napoleon had +already announced would be considered as tantamount to a declaration of +war with France. + +With regard to the tone of Mrs. Browning's letters during this period of +politics and war, there are a few considerations to be borne in mind. +Her two deepest political convictions were here united in one--her faith +in the honesty of Louis Napoleon, and her enthusiasm for Italian freedom +and unity. There were many persons in England, and some in Italy +itself, who held the latter of these faiths without the former; but for +such she had no tolerance. Hence not only those who sympathised, as no +doubt some Englishmen did sympathise, with Austria, but also those who, +while wishing well to Italy, looked with suspicion upon Napoleon's +interference, incurred her uncompromising wrath; and not even the +conference of Villafranca, not even the demand for Nice and Savoy, could +lead her to question Napoleon's sincerity, or to look with patience on +the English policy and English public opinion of that day. The instinct +of Italians has been truer. They have recognised the genuine sympathy +and support which England extended to them on many occasions during the +long struggle for Italian unity, and the friendship between the two +countries to-day has its root in the events of forty and fifty years +ago. + +That Robert Browning did not entirely share his wife's views will be +clear to all readers of 'Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau;' but there is not +the smallest sign that this caused the least shadow of disagreement +between them. Indeed for the moment the difference was practically +annulled, since Robert Browning believed, what was very probably the +case, that the Emperor's friendship for Italy was genuine, so far as it +went. But it may be believed that he was less surprised than she when +Napoleon's zeal for Italian independence stopped short at the frontiers +of Venetia, and was transformed into an anxiety to get out of the war +without further risk, and with an eye to material compensation in Savoy +and Nice. + +It is also right to bear in mind the failing condition of Mrs. +Browning's health. The strain of anxiety unquestionably overtaxed her +strength, and probably told upon her mental tone in a way that may +account for much that seems exaggerated, and at times even hysterical, +in her expressions regarding those who did not share her views. Her +errors were noble and arose from a passionate nobility of character, to +which much might be forgiven, if there were much to forgive. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +Rome: [about February 1, 1859]. + +I am sure Robert has been too long about writing this time, dearest +Sarianna. It did not strike either of us till this morning that it was +so long. We have all been well; and Robert is whirled round and round +so, in this most dissipated of places (to which Paris is really grave +and quiet), that he scarcely knows if he stands on his feet or his +head.... + +Since Christmas Day I have been out twice, once to see Mr. Page's +gorgeous picture (just gone to Paris), and once to run back again before +the wind; but I am too susceptible. The weather has been glorious to +everybody with some common sense in their lungs. And to-day it is +possible even to _me_, they say, and I am preparing for an effort. + +Pen is quite well and rosy. Still we hear of illness, and I am very +particular and nervous about him. All Mr. Hawthorne's family have been +ill one after another, and now he is struck himself with the fever. + +Let me remember to say how the professor's letter seemed to say so +much--too much. + +Particularly just now. I for one can receive no compliments about +'English honesty' &c., after the ignoble way we are behaving about +Italy. I dare say dear M. Milsand (who doesn't sympathise much with our +Italy) thinks it 'imprudent' of the Emperor to make this move, but that +it is generous and magnanimous he will admit. The only great-hearted +politician in Europe--but chivalry always came from France. The emotion +here is profound--and the terror, among the priests. + +Always I expected this from Napoleon, and, if he will carry out his +desire, Peni and I are agreed to kneel down and kiss his feet. The +pamphlet which proceeds from him is magnificent. I said it long ago--to +Jessie White I said it, 'You would destroy,' said I, 'the only man who +has it in his heart and head to do anything for Italy.' + +Most happily Robert's and my protestation went to America in time; just +before the present contingency. Yes, Jessie should not have permitted +our names to be used so. Being passive even was a fault--yes, and more +than a fault. Robert is in great spirits and very well indeed.... + +Ever your most affectionate, +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss I. Blagden_ + +[Rome]: 43 Bocca di Leone: March 27, [1859]. + +My ever dearest Isa,--You don't write, not you! I wrote last, remember, +and though you may not have liked all the politics of the same, you +might have responded to some of the love, you naughty Isa; so I think I +shall get up a 'cause celebre' for myself (it shall be my turn now), and +I shall prove (or try) that nobody has loved me (or can) up to this date +of the 26th of March, 1859. Dearest Isa, seriously speaking, you must +write, for I am anxious to know that you are recovering your good looks +and proper bodily presence as to weight. Just now I am scarcely of sane +mind about Italy. It even puts down the spirit-subject. I pass through +cold stages of anxiety, and white heats of rage. Robert accuses me of +being 'glad' that the new 'Times' correspondent has been suddenly seized +with Roman fever. It is I who have the true fever--in my brain and +heart. I am chiefly frightened lest Austria yield on unimportant points +to secure the vital ones; and Louis Napoleon, with Germany and England +against him, is in a very hard position. God save us all! + +Massimo d' Azeglio[62] has done us the real honor of coming to see us, +and seldom have I, for one, been more gratified. A noble chivalrous +head, and that largeness of the political _morale_ which I find nowhere +among statesmen, except in the head of the French Government. Azeglio +spoke bitterly of English policy, stigmatised it as belonging to a past +age, the rags of old traditions. He said that Louis Napoleon had made +himself great simply by comprehending the march of civilisation (the +true Christianity, said Azeglio) and by leading it. Exactly what I have +always thought. Azeglio disbelieves in any aim of territorial +aggrandisement on the part of France. He is full of hope for Italy. It +is '48 over again, said he, but with matured actors. He finds a unity of +determination among the Italians wherever he goes. + +Well, Azeglio is a man. Seldom have I seen a man whom I felt more +sympathy towards. He has a large, clear, attractive 'sphere,' as we +Swedenborgians say. + +The pamphlet Collegno never reached us. The Papal Government has +snatched it on the way. Farini's is very good. Thank you for all your +kindness as to pamphlets (not letters, Isa! I distinguish in my +gratitude). We lent Mr. Trollope's to Odo Russell,[63] the English +plenipotentiary, and to Azeglio, so that it has produced fruit in our +hands. + +Did I write since Robert dined with the Prince of Wales? Col. Bruce +called here and told me that though the budding royalty was not to be +exposed to the influences of mixed society, the society of the most +eminent men in Rome was desired for him, and he (Col. Bruce) knew it +would 'gratify the Queen that the Prince should make the acquaintance of +Mr. Browning.' Afterwards came the invitation, or 'command.' I told +Robert to set them all right on Italian affairs, and to eschew +compliments, which, you know, is his weak point. (He said the other day +to Mrs. Story: 'I had a delightful evening yesterday at your house. I +_never spoke to you once_,' and encouraged an artist, who was 'quite +dissatisfied with his works,' as he said humbly, by an +encouraging--'But, my dear fellow, if you were satisfied, you would be +so _very easily_ satisfied!' Happy! wasn't it?) Well, so I exhorted my +Robert to eschew compliments and keep to Italian politics, and we both +laughed, as at a jest. But really he had an opportunity, the subject was +permitted, admitted, encouraged, and Robert swears that he talked on it +higher than his breath. But, oh, the English, the English! I am +unpatriotic and disloyal to a _crime_, Isa, just now. Besides which, as +a matter of principle, I never put my trust in princes, except in the +parvenus. + +Not that the little prince here talked politics. But some of his suite +did, and he listened. He is a gentle, refined boy, Robert says.... + +May God bless you, dearest Isa. I am, your very loving + +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +Rome: [about April 1859]. + +Dearest Sarianna,--People are distracting the 'Athenaeums,' Robert +complains, as they distract other things, but in time you will recover +them, I hope. Mr. Leighton has made a beautiful pencil-drawing, highly +finished to the last degree, of him;[64] very like, though not on the +poetical side, which is beyond Leighton. Of this you shall have a +photograph soon; and in behalf of it, I pardon a drawing of me which I +should otherwise rather complain of, I confess. + +We are all much saddened just now (in spite of war) by the state of Una +Hawthorne, a lovely girl of fifteen, Mr. Hawthorne's daughter, who, +after a succession of attacks of Roman fever, has had another, +complicated with gastric, which has fallen on the lungs, and she only +lives from hour to hour. Homoeopathic treatment persisted in, which +never answers in these fevers. Ah--there has been much illness in Rome. +Miss Cushman has had an attack, but you would not recognise other names. +We are well, however, Pen like a rose, and Robert still expanding. +Dissipations decidedly agree with Robert, there's no denying that, +though he's horribly hypocritical, and 'prefers an evening with me at +home,' which has grown to be a kind of dissipation also. + +We are in great heart about the war, as if it were a peace, without need +of war. Arabel writes alarmed about our funded money, which we are not +likely to lose perhaps, precisely because we are _not_ alarmed. The +subject never occurred to me, in fact. I was too absorbed in the general +question--yes, and am. + +So it dawns upon you, Sarianna, that things at Rome and at Naples are +not quite what they should be. A certain English reactionary party would +gladly make the Pope a _paratonnerre_ to save Austria, but this won't +do. The poor old innocent Pope would be paralytically harmless but for +the Austrian, who for years has supported the corruptions here against +France; and even the King of Naples would drop flat as a pricked bubble +if Austria had not maintained that iniquity also. We who have lived in +Italy all these years, know the full pestilent meaning of Austria +everywhere. What is suffered in Lombardy _exceeds what is suffered +elsewhere_. Now, God be thanked, here is light and hope of deliverance. +Still you doubt whether the French are free enough themselves to give +freedom! Well, I won't argue the question about what 'freedom' is. We +shall be perfectly satisfied here with French universal suffrage and the +ballot, the very same democratical government which advanced Liberals +are straining for in England. But, however that may be, the Italians are +perfectly contented at being liberated by the French, and entirely +disinclined to wait the chance of being more honorably assisted by their +'free' and virtuous friend on the other side of the hedge (or Channel), +who is employed at present in buttoning up his own pockets lest +peradventure he should lose a shilling: giving dinners though, and the +smaller change, to 'Neapolitan exiles,' whom only this very cry of 'war' +has freed. + +Robert and I have been of one mind lately in these things, which +comforts me much. But the chief comfort is--the state of facts. + +Massimo d' Azeglio came to see us, and talked nobly, with that noble +head of his. I was far prouder of his coming than of another personal +distinction you will guess at, though I don't pretend to have been +insensible even to that. 'It is '48 over again,' said he, 'with matured +actors.' In fact, the unity throughout Italy is wonderful. What has been +properly called 'the crimes of the Holy Alliance' will be abolished this +time, if God defends the right, which He will, I think. I have faith and +hope. + +But people are preparing to run, and perhaps we shall be forced to use +the gendarmes against the brigands (with whom the country is beset, as +in all cases of general disturbance) when we travel, but this is all the +difference it will make with us. Tuscany is only restraining itself out +of deference to France, and not to complicate her difficulties. War must +be, if it is not already. + +Yes, I was 'not insensible,' democratical as I am, and un-English as I +am said to be. Col. Bruce told me that 'he knew it would be gratifying +to the Queen that the Prince should make Robert's acquaintance.' 'She +wished him to know the most eminent men in Rome.' It might be a +weakness, but I was pleased. + +Pen's and my love to the dearest Nonno and you. + +Your affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +In May, shortly after the outbreak of war, the Brownings returned to +Florence, whither a division of French troops had been sent, under the +command of Prince Napoleon. The Grand Duke had already retired before +the storm, and a provisional government had been formed. It was here +that they heard the news of Magenta (June 4) and Solferino (June 24), +with their wholly unexpected sequel, the armistice and the meeting of +the two Emperors at Villafranca. The latter blow staggered even Mrs. +Browning for the moment, but though her frail health suffered from the +shock, her faith in Louis Napoleon was proof against all attack. She +could not have known the good military reasons he had for not risking a +reversal of the successes which he had won more through his enemy's +defects than through the excellence of his own army or dispositions; but +she found an explanation in the supposed intrigues of England and +Germany, which frustrated his good intentions. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +Florence: [about May 1859]. + +My dearest Sarianna,--You will like to hear, if only by a scratch, that +we are back in Tuscany with all safety, after a very pleasant journey +through an almost absolute solitude. Florence is perfectly tranquil and +at the same time most unusually animated, what with the French troops +and the passionate gratitude of the people. We have two great flags on +our terrace, the French flag and the Italian, and Peni keeps a moveable +little flag between them, which (as he says) 'he can take out in the +carriage sometimes.' Pen is enchanted with the state of things in +general, and the French camp in particular, which he came home from only +in the dusk last night, having 'enjoyed himself so very much in seeing +those dear French soldiers play at blindman's buff.' They won't, +however, remain long here, unless the Austrians threaten to come down on +us, which, I trust, they will be too much absorbed to do. The melancholy +point in all this is the dirt eaten and digested with a calm face by +England and the English. Now that I have exhausted myself with +indignation and protestation, Robert has taken up the same note, which +is a comfort. I would rather hear my own heart in his voice. Certainly +it must be still more bitter for him than for me, seeing that he has +more national predilections than I have, and has struggled longer to see +differently. Not only the prestige, but the very respectability of +England is utterly lost here--and nothing less is expected than her +ultimate and open siding with Austria in the war. If she does, we shall +wash our hands like so many Pilates, which will save us but not England. + +We are intending to remain here as long as we can bear the heat, which +is not just now too oppressive, though it threatens to be so. We must be +somewhere near, to see after our property in the case of an Austrian +approach, which is too probable, we some of us think; and I just hear +that a body of the French will remain to meet the contingency. Our +Italians are fighting as well as soldiers can. + +Tell M. Milsand, with my love, that if I belonged to his country, I +should feel very proud at this time. As to the Emperor, he is sublime. +He will appear so to all when he comes out of this war (as I believe) +with clean and empty hands.... + +Robert gives ten scudi a month (a little more than two guineas) to the +war as long as it lasts, and Peni is to receive half a paul every day he +is good at his lessons, that he also may give to the great cause. I must +write a word to the dear nonno. May God bless both of you, says your + +Affectionate Sister, +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mr. Browning, Senior_ + +[Same date.] + +Yes, indeed, I missed the revolution in Tuscany, dearest Nonno, which +was a loss--but perhaps, in compensation (who knows?), I shall be in for +an Austrian bombardment or brigandage, or something as good or bad. But, +after all, you are not to be anxious about us because of a jest of mine. +We have Tuscan troops on the frontier, and French troops in the city, +and although the Duchess of Parma has graciously given leave, they say, +to the Austrians to cross her dominions in order to get into Tuscany, we +shall be well defended. We are all full of hope and calm, and never +doubt of the result. If ever there was a holy cause it is this; if ever +there was a war on which we may lawfully ask God's blessing, it is this. +The unanimity and constancy of the Italian people are beautiful to +witness. The affliction of ten years has ripened these souls. Never was +a contrast greater than what is to-day and what was in '48. No more +distrust, nor division, nor vacillation, and a gratitude to the French +nation which is quite pathetic. + +Peni is all in a glow about Italy, and wishes he was 'great boy enough' +to fight. Meantime he does his lessons for the fighters--half a paul a +day when he is good. + +Mr. del Bene thought him much improved in his music, and I hope he gets +on in other things, and that when we bring him back to you (crowned with +Italian laurels), you will think so too. Meanwhile think of us and love +us, dearest Nonno. I always think of your kindness to me. + +Your ever affectionate Daughter, +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mr. Ruskin_ + +Casa Guidi: June 3, [1859]. + +My dear Mr. Ruskin,--We send to you every now and then somebody hungry +for a touch from your hand; we who are famished for it ourselves. But +this time we send you a man whom you will value perfectly for himself +and be kind to from yourself, quite spontaneously. He is the American +artist, Page, an earnest, simple, noble artist and man, who carries his +Christianity down from his deep heart to the point of his brush. Draw +him out to talk to you, and you will find it worth while. He has learnt +much from Swedenborg, and used it in his views upon art. Much of it (if +new) may sound to you wild and dreamy--but the dream will admit of +logical inference and philosophical induction, and when you open your +eyes, it is still there. + +He has not been successful in life--few are who are uncompromising in +their manner of life. When I speak of life, I include art, which is life +to him. I should like you to see what a wonder of light and colour and +space and breathable air, he put into his Venus rising from the +sea--refused on the ground of nudity at the Paris Exhibition this +summer. The loss will be great to him, I fear. + +You will recognise in this name _Page_, the painter of Robert's portrait +which you praised for its Venetian colour, and criticised in other +respects. In fact, Mr. Page believes that he has discovered Titian's +secret--and, what is more, he will tell it to you in love, and indeed to +anybody else in charity. So I don't say that to bribe you. + +Dear, dear Mr. Ruskin, we thank you and love you more than ever for your +good word about our Italy. Oh, if you knew how hard it is and has been +to receive the low, selfish, ignoble words with which this great cause +has been pelted from England, not from her Derby government only, but +from her parliament, her statesmen, her reformers, her leaders of the +Liberal party, her free press--to receive such words full in our faces, +nay, in the quick of our hearts, till we grow sick with loathing and hot +with indignation--if you knew what it was and is, you would feel how +glad and grateful we must be to have a right word from John Ruskin. Dear +Mr. Ruskin, England has done terribly ill, ignobly ill, which is worse. +That men of all parties should have spoken as they have, proves a state +of public morals lamentable to admit. What--not even our poets with +clean hands? Alfred Tennyson abetting Lord Derby? That to me was the +heaviest blow of all. + +Meanwhile we shall have a free Italy at least, for everything goes well +here. Massimo d' Azeglio came to see us in Rome, and he said then, 'It +is '48 with matured actors.' Indeed, there is a wonderful unanimity, +calm, and resolution everywhere in Italy. All parties are broken up +into the one great national party. The feeling of the people is +magnificent. The painful experience of ten years has borne fruit in +their souls. No more distrust, no more division, no more holding back, +no more vacillation. And Louis Napoleon--well, I think he is doing me +credit--and you, dear Mr. Ruskin--for _you_, too, held him in +appreciation long ago. A great man. + +I beseech you to believe on my word (and we have our information from +good and reliable sources), that the 'Times' newspaper built up its +political ideas on the broadest foundation of _lies_. I use the bare +word. You won't expel it, in the manner of the Paris Exhibition, for its +nudity--lies--not mistakes. For instance, while the very peasants here +are giving their crazie, the very labourers their day's work (once in a +week or so)--while everyone gives, and every man almost (who can go) +goes--the 'Times' says that Piedmont had derived neither paul nor +soldier from Tuscany. Tell me what people get by lying so? Faustus sold +himself to the Devil. Does Austria pay a higher price, I wonder? + +Such things I could tell you--things to moisten your eyes--to wring that +burning eloquence of yours from your lips. But Robert waits to take this +letter. Penini has adorned our terrace with two tricolour flags, the +Italian tricolour and the French. May God bless you, dear friend. Speak +again for Italy. If you could see with what _eyes_ the Italian speaks of +the 'English.' Our love to you, Mr. and Mrs. Ruskin--if we may--because +we must. Write to us, do. + +Ever affectionately yours, +R.B. and E.B.B. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +Florence: [about June 1859.] + +My dearest Sarianna,--There is a breath of air giving one strength to +hold one's pen at this moment. How people can use swords in such +weather it's difficult to imagine. We have been melting to nothing, like +the lump of sugar in one's tea, or rather in one's lemonade, for tea +grows to be an abomination before the sun. The heat, which lingered +unusually, has come in on us with a rush of flame for some days past, +suggesting, however, the degree beyond itself, which is coming. We stay +on at Florence because we can't bear to go where the bulletin twice a +day from the war comes less directly; and certainly we shall stay till +we can't breathe here any more. On which contingency our talk is to go +somewhere for two months. Meanwhile we stay. + +You can't conceive of the intense interest which is reigning here, you +can't realise it, scarcely. In Paris there is vivid interest, of course, +but that is from less immediate motives, except with persons who have +relations in the army. Here it is as if each one had a personal enemy in +the street below struggling to get up to him. When we are anxious we are +pale; when we are glad we have tears in our eyes. This 'unnecessary' and +'inexcusable' war (as it has been called in England) represents the only +hope of a nation agonising between death and life. You _talk_ about our +living or dying, but _we live or die_. That's the difference between you +and us. + +We shall live, however. The hope is rising into triumph. Nobody any more +will say that the Italians fight ill. Remember that Garibaldi has with +him simply the _volunteers_ from all parts of Italy, not the trained +troops. He and they are heroic (as with such conviction and faith they +were sure to be), and the trained troops not less so. 'Worthy of +fighting side by side with the French,' says the Emperor; while the +French are worthy of their fame. 'The great military power' crumbles +before them, because souls are stronger than bodies always. There is no +such page of glory in the whole history of France. Great motives and +great deeds. The feeling of profound gratitude to Napoleon III., among +this people here, is sublime from its unanimity and depth.... + +All this excitement has made Florence quite unlike its quiet self, in +spite of the flight of many residents and nearly all travellers. Even we +have been stirred up to wander about more than our custom here. There's +something that forbids us to sit at home; we run in and out after the +bulletins, and to hear and give opinions; and then, in the rebound, we +have been caught and sent several times to the theatre (so unusual for +us) to see the great actor, Salvini, who is about to leave Florence. We +saw him in 'Othello' and in 'Hamlet,' and he was very great in both, +Robert thought, as well as I. Only his houses pine, because, as he says, +the 'true tragedies spoil the false,' and the Italians have given up the +theatres for the cafes at this moment of crisis.... + +In best love, +BA. + + * * * * * + + +After Villafranca the immediate anxiety for news from the seat of war +naturally came to an end, and the Brownings were able to escape from the +heat of Florence to Siena, where they remained about three months. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +Siena: [July-August 1859]. + +Dearest Sarianna,--This to certify that I am alive after all; yes, and +getting stronger, and intending to be strong before long, though the +sense left to me is of a peculiar frailty of being; no very marked +opinion upon my hold of life. But life will last as long as God finds it +useful for myself and others--which is enough, both for them and me. + +So well I was with all the advantages of Rome in me looking so well, +that I was tired of hearing people say so. But, though it may sound +absurd to you, it was the blow on the _heart_ about the peace after all +that excitement and exultation, that walking on the clouds for weeks and +months, and then the sudden stroke and fall, and the impotent rage +against all the nations of the earth--selfish, inhuman, wicked--who +forced the hand of Napoleon, and truncated his great intentions. Many +young men of Florence were confined to their beds by the emotion of the +news. As for me, I was struck, couldn't sleep, talked too much, and (the +intense heat rendering one more susceptible, perhaps) at last this bad +attack came on. Robert has been perfect to me. For more than a fortnight +he gave up all his nights' rest to me, and even now he teaches Pen. They +are well, I thank God. We stay till the end of September. Our Italians +have behaved magnificently, steadfast, confident, never forgetting +(except in the case of individuals, of course) their gratitude to France +nor their own sense of dignity. Things must end well with such a people. +Few would have expected it of the Italians. I hear the French ambassador +was present at the opening of the Chambers the other day at Florence, +which was highly significant. + +I suppose you are by the sea, and I hope you and the dearest nonno are +receiving as much good from air and water as you desired. May God bless +you both. + +Your ever affectionate Sister, +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss I. Blagden_ + +Villa Alberti, Siena: Wednesday [July-August 1859]. + +My ever dearest, kindest Isa,--I can't let another day go without +writing just a word to you to say that I am alive enough to love you. In +fact, dear, I am a great deal better; no longer ground to dust with +cough; able to sleep at nights; and preparing to-day to venture on a +little minced chicken, which I have resisted all the advances of +hitherto. This proves my own opinion of myself, at least. I am extremely +weak, reeling when I ought to walk, and glad of an arm to steer by. But +the attack is over; the blister to the side, tell Dr. Gresonowsky, +conquered the uneasiness there, and did me general good, I think. Now I +have only to keep still and quiet, and do nothing useful, or the +contrary, if possible, and not speak, and not vex myself more than is +necessary on politics. I had a letter from Jessie Mario, dated Bologna, +the other day, and feel a little uneasy at what she may be about there. +It was a letter not written in very good taste, blowing the trumpet +against all Napoleonists. Most absurd for the rest. Cavour had promised +L.N. Tuscany for his cousin as the price of his intervention in Italy; +and Prince Napoleon, finding on his arrival here that it 'wouldn't do,' +the peace was made in a huff. + +Absurd, certainly. + +Robert advises me not to answer, and it may be as well, perhaps. + +I dreamed lately that I followed a mystic woman down a long suite of +palatial rooms. She was in white, with a white mask, on her head the +likeness of a crown. I knew she was Italy, but I couldn't see through +the mask. All through my illness political dreams have repeated +themselves, in inscrutable articles of peace and eternal provisional +governments. Walking on the mountains of the moon, hand in hand with a +Dream more beautiful than them all, then falling suddenly on the hard +earth-ground on one's head, no wonder that one should suffer. Oh, Isa, +the tears are even now in my eyes to think of it! + +And yet I have hope, and the more I consider, the more I hope. + +There will be no intervention to interfere with us in Tuscany, and there +is something _better behind_, which we none of us see yet. + +We read to-day of the Florence elections. May God bless my Florence! + +Dearest Isa, don't you fancy that you will get off with a day and night +here. No, indeed. Also, I would rather you waited till I could talk, and +go out, and enjoy you properly; and just now I am a mere rag of a Ba +hung on a chair to be out of the way. + +Robert is so very kind as to hear Pen's lessons, which keeps me easy +about the child. + +Heat we have had and have; but there's a great quantity of air--such +blowings as you boast of at your villa--and I like this good open air +and the quiet. I have seen nobody yet.... + +Dearest Isa, I miss you, and love you. How perfect you are to me always. + +Robert's true love, with Pen's. And I may send my love to Miss Field, +may I not? + +Yours, in tender affection, +BA. + +Do write, and tell me everything. + +Yes, England will do a little dabbling about constitutions and the like +where there's nothing to lose or risk; and why does Mrs. Trollope say +'God bless them' for it? _I_ never will forgive England the most +damnable part she has taken on Italian affairs, never. The pitiful cry +of 'invasion' is the continuation of that hound's cry, observe. Must we +live and bear? + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss E.F. Haworth_ + +Villa Alberti, Siena: August 24, 1859 [postmark]. + +Dearest Fanny,--This is only to say that I wrote to you before your +letter reached me, directing mine simply to the post-office of Cologne, +and that I write now lest what went before should miss for want of the +more specific address. Thank you, dear friend, for caring to hear of my +health; _that_, at least, _is_ pleasant. I keep recovering strength by +air, quiet, and asses' milk, and by hope for Italy, which consolidates +itself more and more. + +You will wonder at me, but these public affairs have half killed me. You +know I _can't_ take things quietly. Your complaint and mine, Fanny, are +just opposite. For weeks and weeks, in my feverish state, I never closed +my eyes without suffering 'punishment' under eternal articles of peace +and unending lists of provisional governments. Do you wonder? + +Observe--I believe entirely in the Emperor. He did at Villafranca what +he could not help but do. Since then, he has simply changed the arena of +the struggle; he is walking under the earth instead of on the earth, but +_straight_ and to unchanged ends. + +This country, meanwhile, is conducting itself nobly. It is worthy of +becoming a great nation. + +And God for us all! + +So you go to England really? Which I doubted, till your letter came. + +It is well that you did not spend the summer here, for the heat has been +ferocious; hotter, people from Corfu say, than it was ever felt there. +Italy, however, is apt to be hottish in the summer, as we know very +well. + +The country about here, though not romantic like Lucca, is very pretty, +and our windows command sunsets and night winds. I have not stirred out +yet after three weeks of it; you may suppose how reduced I must be. I +could scarcely _stand_ at one time. The active evil, however, is ended, +and strength comes somehow or other. Robert has had the perfect goodness +not only to nurse me, but to teach Peni, who is good too, and rides a +pony just the colour of his curls, to his pure delight. Then we have +books and newspapers, English and Italian--the books from Florence--so +we do beautifully. + +Mr. Landor is here. There's a long story. Absolute revolution and +abdication from the Florence villa. He appeared one day at our door of +Casa Guidi, with an oath on his soul never to go back. The end of it all +is, that Robert has accepted office as Landor's guardian (!!) and is to +'see to him' at the request of his family in England; and there's to be +an arrangement for Wilson to undertake him in a Florence apartment, +which she is pleased at. He visited the Storys, who are in a villa here +(the only inhabitants), and were very kind to him. Now he is in rooms in +a house not far from us, waiting till we return to Florence. I have seen +him only once, and then he looked better than he did in Florence, where +he seemed dropping into the grave, scarcely able to walk a hundred +yards. He longs for England, but his friends do not encourage his +return, and so the best that can be done for him must be. Now he is in +improved spirits and has taken to writing Latin alcaics on Garibaldi, +which is refreshing, I suppose. + +Ask at the post-office for my letter, but don't fancy that it may be a +line more lively than this. No alcaics from me! One soul has gone from +me, at least, the soul that writes letters. + +May God bless you, dearest, kindest Fanny. Love me a little. Don't leave +off feeling 'on private affairs' too much for _that_. + +Robert's best love with that of your loving +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +Villa Alberti, Siena: August 26 [1859]. + +Dearest friend, what have you thought of me? + +I was no more likely to write to you about the 'peace' than about any +stroke of personal calamity. The peace fell like a bomb on us all, and +for my part, you may still find somewhere on the ground splinters of my +heart, if you look hard. But by the time your letter reached me we had +recovered the blow _spiritually_, had understood that it was necessary, +and that the Emperor Napoleon, though forced to abandon one arena, was +prepared to carry on the struggle for Italy on another. + +Therefore I should have answered your letter at once if I had not been +seized with illness. Indeed, my dear, dear friend, you will hear from me +no excuses. I have not been unkind, simply incapable. + +I believe it was the violent mental agitation, the reaction from a state +of exultation and joy in which I had been walking among the stars so +many months; and the grief, anxiety, the struggle, the talking, all +coming on me at a moment when the ferocious heat had made the body +peculiarly susceptible; but one afternoon I went down to the Trollopes, +had sight of the famous Ducal orders about bombarding Florence, and came +home to be ill. Violent palpitations and cough; in fact, the worst +attack on the chest I ever had in Italy. For two days and two nights it +was more like _angina pectoris_, as I have heard it described; but this +went off, and the complaint ran into its ancient pattern, thank God, and +kept me _only_ very ill, with violent cough all night long; my poor +Robert, who nursed me like an angel, prevented from sleeping for full +three weeks. When there was a possibility I was lifted into a carriage +and brought here; stayed two days at the inn in Siena, and then removed +to this pleasant airy villa. Very ill I was after coming, and great +courage it required to come; but change of air was absolutely a +condition of living, and the event justified the risk. For now I am +quite myself, have done crying 'Wolf,' and end this lamentable history +by desiring you to absolve me for my silence. We have been here nearly a +month. My strength, which was so exhausted that I could scarcely stand +unsupported, is coming back satisfactorily, and the cough has ceased to +vex me at all. Still, I am not equal to driving out. I hope to take my +first drive in a very few days though, and the very asses are +ministering to me--in milk. All the English physicians had found it +convenient (the beloved Grand Duke being absent) to leave Florence, and +Zanetti was attending the Piedmontese hospitals, so that I had to attend +me none of the old oracles--only a Prussian physician (Dr. Gresonowsky), +a very intelligent man, of whom we knew a little personally, and who had +a strong political sympathy with me. (He and I used to sit together on +Isa Blagden's terrace and relieve ourselves by abusing each other's +country; and whether he expressed most moral indignation against England +or I against Prussia, remained doubtful.) Afterwards he came to cure me, +and was as generous in his profession as became his politics. People are +usually very kind to us, I must say. Think of that man following us to +Siena, uninvited, and attending me at the hotel two days, then refusing +recompense. + +Well, now let me speak of our Italy and the peace. 'Immoral,' you say? +Yes, immoral. But not immoral on the part of Napoleon who had his hand +forced; only immoral on the part of those who by infamies of speech and +intrigue (in England and Germany), against which I for one had been +protesting for months, brought about the complicated results which +forced his hand. Never was a greater or more disinterested deed intended +and almost completed than this French intervention for Italian +independence; and never was a baser and more hideous sight than the +league against it of the nations. Let me not speak. + +For the rest, if it were not for Venetia (Zurich[65] keeps its secrets +so far) the peace would have proved a benefit rather than otherwise. We +have had time to feel our own strength, to stand on our own feet. The +vain talk about Napoleon's intervening militarily on behalf of the Grand +Duke has simply been the consequence of statements without foundation +in the English and German papers; and also in some French Ultramontane +papers. Napoleon with his own lips, _after the peace_, assured our +delegates that no force should be used. And he has repeated this on +every possible occasion. At Villafranca, when the Emperor of Austria +insisted on the return of the Dukes, he acceded, on condition they were +recalled. He 'did not come to Italy to dispossess the sovereigns,' as he +had previously observed, but to give the power of election to the +people. Before we left Rome this spring he had said to the French +ambassador, 'If the Tuscans like to recall their Grand Duke, _qu'est-ce +que cela me fait_?' He simply said the same at Villafranca. + +Count de Reiset was sent to Florence, Modena, and Parma, to +'_constater_,' not to '_impose_,' and the whole policy of Napoleon has +been to draw out a calm and full expression of the popular mind. Nobly +have the people of Italy responded. Surely there is not in history a +grander attitude than this assumed by a nation half born, half +constituted, scarcely named yet, but already capable of self-restraint +and dignity, and magnanimous faith. We are full of hope, and should be +radiant with joy, except for Venetia. + +Dearest friend, the war did more than 'give a province to Piedmont.' The +first French charge _freed Italy potentially_ from north to south. At +this moment Austria cannot stir anywhere. Here 'we live, breathe, and +have our national being.' Certainly, if Napoleon did what the 'Times' +has declared he would do--intervene with armed force against the people, +prevent the elections, or _tamper_ with the elections by means of--such +means as he was 'familiar' with; if he did these things, I should cry +aloud, 'Immoral, vile, a traitor!' But the facts deny all these +imputations. He has walked steadily on along one path, and the +development of Italy as a nation is at the end of it. + +Of course the first emotion on the subject of the peace was rage as +well as grief. For one day in Florence all his portraits and busts +disappeared from the shop windows; and I myself, to Penini's extreme +disgust (who insisted on it that his dear Napoleon couldn't do anything +wrong, and that the fault was in the telegraph), wouldn't let him wear +his Napoleon medal. Afterwards--as Ferdinando said--'Siamo stati un po' +troppo furiosi davvero, signora;' _that_ came to be the general +conviction. Out came the portraits again in the sun, and the Emperor's +bust, side by side with Victor Emanuel's, adorns the room of our +'General Assembly.' There are individuals, of course, who think that +through whatever amount of difficulty and complication, he should have +preserved his first programme. But these are not the wiser thinkers. He +had to judge for France as well as for Italy. As Mr. Trollope said to me +in almost the first fever, 'It is upon the cards that he has acted in +the wisest and most conscientious manner possible for all,--or it is on +the cards etc.' + +The difficulty now is at Naples. + +There will be a Congress, of course. A Congress was in the first +programme; after the war, a Congress. + +But, dearest Mona Nina, if you want to get calumniated, hated, lied +upon, and spat upon (in a spiritual sense), try and do a good deed from +disinterested motives in this world. That's my lesson. + +I have been told upon rather good authority that Cavour's retirement is +simply a feint, and that he will recover his position presently. + +What weighs on my heart is Venetia. Can they do anything at Zurich to +modify that heavy fact? + +You see I am not dead yet, dear, dearest friend. And while alive at all, +I can't help being in earnest on these questions. I am a Ba, you know. +Forgive me when I get too much 'riled' by your England. + +You will know by this time that the 'proposition' you approved of was +French. + +What made the very help of Prussia unacceptable to Austria was the +circumstance of Prussia's using that opportunity of Austria's need to +wriggle herself to the military headship of the Confederation. Austria +would rather have lost Lombardy (and more) than have accepted such a +disadvantage. Hence the coldness, the cause of which is scarcely +avowable. Selfish and pitiful nations! + +Dear Isa Blagden writes me all the political news of Florence. She is +well, and will come to pay us a visit before long. We remain here till +September ends, and then return to Casa Guidi. + +I had a letter from Bologna from Jessie, which threw me into a terror +lest the Mazzinians should come to Italy just in time to ruin us. The +letter (not unkind to me) was as contrary to facts and reason as +possible. I was too ill to write at the time, and Robert would not let +me answer it afterwards. + +[_The remainder of this letter is missing._] + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +Villa Alberti, Siena: September [1859]. + +My dearest Mrs. Martin,--As you talk of palpitations and the newspapers, +and then tell me or imply that you are confined for light and air to the +'Times' on the Italian question, I am moved with sympathy and compassion +for you, and anxious not to lose a post in answering your letter. My +dear, dear friends, I beseech you to believe _nothing_ which you have +read, are reading, or are likely to read in the 'Times' newspaper, +unless it contradicts all that went before. The criminal conduct of that +paper from first to last, and the immense amount of injury it has +occasioned in the world, make me feel that the hanging of the Smethursts +and Ellen Butlers would be irredeemable cruelty while these writers are +protected by the Law.... + +Of course you must feel perplexed. The paper takes up different sets of +falsities, quite different and contradictory, and treats them as facts, +and writes 'leaders' on them, as if they were facts. The reader, at +last, falls into a state of confusion, and sees nothing clearly except +that somehow or other, for something that he has done or hasn't done, +has intended or hasn't intended, Louis Napoleon is a rascal, and we +ought to hate him and his. + +Well, leave the 'Times'--though from the 'Times' and the like base human +movements in England and Germany resulted, more or less directly, that +peace of Villafranca which threw us all here into so deep an anguish, +that I, for one, have scarcely recovered from it even to this day. + +Let me tell you. We were living in a glow of triumph and gratitude; and +for me, it seemed to me as if I walked among the angels of a new-created +world. All faces at Florence shone with one thought and one love. You +can scarcely realise to yourself what it was at that time. Friends were +more than friends, and strangers were friends. The rapture of the +Italians--their gratitude to the French, the simple joy with which the +French troops understood (down to the privates) that they had come to +deliver their brothers, and to go away with empty hands; all these +things, which have been calumniated and denied, were wonderfully +beautiful. Scarcely ever in my life was I so happy. I was happy, not +only for Italy, but for the world--because I thought that this great +deed would beat under its feet all enmities, and lift up England itself +(at last) above its selfish and base policy. Then, on a sudden, came the +peace. It was as if a thunderbolt fell. For one day, every picture and +bust of the Emperor vanished, and the men who would have died for him, +before that sun, half articulated a curse on his head. But the next day +we were no longer mad, and as the days past, we took up hope again, and +the more thoughtful among our politicians began to understand the +situation. There was, however, a painful change. Before, difference of +opinion was unknown, and there was no sort of anxiety (a doubt of the +result of the war never crossing anyone's mind). Napoleon in the +thickest of the fire, with one epaulette shot off, was a symbol +intelligible to the whole population. But when he disappeared from the +field and entered the region of spirits and diplomats--when he walked +under the earth instead of on the surface--though he walked with equal +loyalty and uprightness, then people were sanguine or fearful according +to their temperament, and the English and Austrian newspapers, +attributing the worst motives and designs, troubled the thoughts of +many. Still, both the masses (with their blind noble faith), and the +leaders with their intelligence, held fast their hopes, and the +consequence has been the magnificent spectacle which this nation now +offers to Europe, and which for dignity, calm, and unanimous +determination may seek in vain for its parallel in history. Now we are +very happy again, full of hope and faith.... + +We shall probably go to Rome again for the winter, as Florence is +considered too cold. There will be disturbances that way in all +probability; but we are bold as to such things. The Pope is hard to +manage, even for the Emperor. It is hard to cut up a feather bed into +sandwiches with the finest Damascus blade, but the end will be attained +somehow. I wish I could see clearly about Venetia. There are intelligent +and thoughtful Italians who are hopeful even for Venetia, and certainly, +the Emperor of Austria's offer to Tuscany (not made to the Assembly, as +the 'Times' said, but murmured about by certain agents) implies a +consciousness on his part of holding Venetia, with a broken _wrist_ at +least. + +As to the Duchies never for a moment did I believe in armed +intervention. Napoleon distinctly with his own lips promised our +delegates, after the peace, and before he left Italy, that he would +neither do it nor permit it. And afterwards, in Paris, again and again. +He accepted the Austrian proposition under the condition simply that +the Dukes were recalled by the people, not in defiance of the popular +will. He has been loyal throughout both to Austria and to Italy, and to +his own original programme, which did not contemplate dispossessing +sovereigns but freeing peoples. + +Italy for the Italians--and so it will be. For Prince Napoleon, when he +was in Florence he might have remained there and delighted everybody. I +_know_ even that a person high in office felt the way towards a proposal +of the kind, and that he answered in a manner considered too +'_tranchant_,' 'No, no, _that_ would suit neither the Emperor nor +England; et pour moi, je ne le voudrais pas.' He used every opportunity +at that time of advising the fusion, about which people were much less +unanimous than they are now. + +But calumny never dies (_like me_!). Mr. Russell, Lord John's nephew, +the quasi-minister at Rome, very acute, and liberal too (by the English +standard) being on his road to Rome from London last week proposed +paying us a visit, and we had him here two days (in a valuable spare +room!). He told me that Napoleon had been too _fin_ for the English +Government. He had _induced them to acknowledge the Tuscan +vote_--(observe that fact, dearest friends) induced them to acknowledge +the Tuscan vote; and now here was his game. He had forbidden Piedmont to +accept the fusion,[66] and therefore Piedmont must refuse. The +consequence of which would be that there must be another vote in +Tuscany, which would favor Prince Napoleon, and that we, having accepted +the first vote, must accept the second, the Emperor throwing up his +hands and crying, '_Who would have thought it?_' + +We told him that he and the English Government were so far out in their +conclusions, that Piedmont, instead of refusing, would accept +conditionally; but he sighed, 'hoped it might be so,' in the way in +which preposterous opinions are civilly put away. + +Scarcely was he gone, when the conditional acceptance was known. + +How much more I could tell you. But one can't write all. The first +battle in the north of Italy freed Italy _potentially_ from north to +south. Our political life here in the centre is a proof of this. The +conduct of the Italians is admirable, but last year they _could not_ +have assumed this attitude. They were a bound people. And even now, if +the Emperor removed his hand from Austria, we should have the foreign +intervention, and no hope. + +We are ready and willing to fight, observe. The 'Times' may take back +its words. But to oppose the whole Austrian Empire with our unorganised, +however heroic, forces, is impossible. We might _die_, indeed.... + +May God bless both of you always! I have pretty good letters from home. +Home! what's home? + +Your ever affectionate and grateful +BA. + +Read 'La Foi des Traites'; it is from the hand of Louis Napoleon. So +that I was prepared for the amnesty and for what follows. + + * * * * * + + +The following letters to Mr. Chorley relate to Mrs. Browning's poem 'A +Tale of Villafranca,' which was published in the 'Athenaeum' for +September 24, and subsequently included in the volume of 'Poems before +Congress' (_Poetical Works_, iv. 195). + + * * * * * + + +_To Mr. Chorley_ + +Villa Alberti, Siena: September 12, [1859]. + +My dear Mr. Chorley,--This isn't a _letter_, as you will see at a +glance. I should have written to you long since, and have also sent this +poem (which solicits a place in the 'Athenaeum') if I had not been very +ill and been very slow in getting well. We wanted to answer your kind +letter, and shall. As for my poem, be so good as to see it put in, in +spite of its good and true politics, which you 'Athenaeum' people (being +English) will dissent from altogether. Say so, if you please, but let me +in. 'Strike, but hear me.' I have been living and dying for Italy +lately. You don't know how vivid these things are to us, which serve for +conversation at London dinner parties. + +Ah--dear Mr. Chorley. The bad news about poor Lady Arnould will have +affected you as it did Robert a few days ago. I do pity so our unhappy +friend, Sir Joseph. Tell us, if you can and will, what you hear. + +We came here from Florence five or six weeks since, when I was very +unfit for moving, but change of air and a cooler air and repose had +grown necessary. We are at a villa two miles from Siena, where we look +at scarlet sunsets, over purple hills, and have the wind nearly all day. +Mr. and Mrs. Story are half a mile off in another villa, and Mr. Landor +at a stone's cast. Otherwise the solitude is absolute. Mr. Russell spent +two days with us on his way to resume office at Rome. I should remember +that.... + + * * * * * + + +_To Mr. Chorley_ + +Siena: Sunday [September-October 1859]. + +Thank you, my dear Mr. Chorley, I submit gratefully to being snubbed for +my politics. In return I will send to your private ear an additional +stanza which should interpose as the real _seventh_ but was left out. I +did not send it to you the day after my note, though sorely tempted to +do so, because it seemed to me likely to annul any small chance of +'Athenaeum' tolerance which might fall to me. Would it have done so, do +you think? + + 'A great deed in this world of ours! + Unheard of the pretence is. + It plainly threatens the Great Powers; + Is fatal in all senses. + A just deed in the world! Call out + The rifles! ... be not slack about + The National Defences.' + +Certainly if I don't guess 'the Sphinx' right, some of your English +guessers in the 'Times' and elsewhere fail also, as events prove. The +clever 'Prince-Napoleon-for-Central-Italy' guess,[67] for instance, has +just fallen through, by declaration of the 'Moniteur.' Most absurd it +was always. At one time the Prince might have taken the crown by +acclamation. He was almost _rude_ about it when he was in Tuscany. And +even after the peace, members of the present Government were not averse, +were much the contrary indeed. At that time the autonomy was still dear, +we had not made up our minds to the fusion. Now, _e altra cosa_, and to +imagine that a man like the French Emperor would have waited till now, +producing, by the opportunities he has given, the present complication, +_in order_ to impose the Prince, is absurd on the very face of it. + +While standers-by guess, the comfort is that circumstances ripen. We are +in spirits about our Italy. The dignity, the constancy, the calm, are +admirable, as the unanimity of the people is wonderful. Even the +contadini have rallied to the Government, and the cry of enthusiasm to +which the cross of Savoy was uncovered in the market place of Siena +yesterday was a thrilling thing. Also we will fight, be it understood, +whenever fighting shall be necessary. At present, the right arm of +Austria is broken; she cannot hold the sword since Solferino, at least +in central Italy. Let those who doubt our debt to France remember where +we were last year, and see what our political life is now--real, vivid, +unhindered! Our moral qualities are our own, but our practical +opportunities come from another; we could not have made them by force of +moral qualities, great as those are allowed to be. And how striking the +growth of this people since 1848. Massimo d' Azeglio said to Robert and +me, 'It is '48 over again with matured actors.' But it is even more than +that: it is '48 over again with regenerated actors. All internal +jealousies at an end, all suspicions quenched, all selfish policies +dissolved. Florence forgets herself for Italy. This is grand. Would that +England, that pattern of moral nations, would forget herself for the +sake of something or someone beyond. _That_ would be grand. + +I wish you were here, my dear Mr. Chorley, since I am wishing in vain, +though we are almost at the close of our stay in this pretty country. We +have a villa with beautiful sights from all the windows; and there, on +the hill opposite, live Mr. and Mrs. Story, and within a stone's throw, +in a villino, lives the poor old lion Landor, who, being sorely buffeted +by his family at Fiesole, far beyond 'kissing with tears' (though Robert +did what he could), took refuge with us at Casa Guidi one day, +broken-hearted and in wrath. He stays here while we stay, and then goes +with us to Florence, where Robert has received the authorisation of his +English friends to settle him in comfort in an apartment of his own, +with my late maid, Wilson (who married our Italian man-servant), to take +care of him; and meanwhile the quiet of this place has so restored his +health and peace of mind that he is able to write awful Latin alcaics, +to say nothing of hexameters and pentameters, on the wickedness of +Louis Napoleon. Yes, dear Mr. Chorley, poems which might appear in the +'Athenaeum' without disclaimer, and without injury to the reputation of +that journal. + +Am I not spiteful? I assure you I couldn't be spiteful a short time ago, +so very ill I have been. Now it is different, and every day the strength +returns. What remains, however, is a certain necessity of not facing the +Florence wind this winter, and of going again to Rome, in spite of +probable revolutions there. We talk of going in the early part of +November. Why won't you come to Rome and give us meeting? Foolish +speech, when I know you won't. We shall be in Florence probably at the +end of the present week, to stay there until the journey further south +begins. I shall regret this silence. And little Penini too will have his +regrets, for he has been very happy here, made friends with the +contadini, has helped to keep the sheep, to run after straggling cows, +to play at '_nocini_' (did you ever hear of that game?) and to pick the +grapes at the vintage--driving in the grape-carts (exactly of the shape +of the Greek chariots), with the grapes heaped up round him; and then +riding on his own pony, which Robert is going to buy for him (though +Robert never spoils him; no, not he, it is only _I_ who do that!), +galloping through the lanes on this pony the colour of his curls. I was +looking over his journal (Pen keeps a journal), and fell on the +following memorial which I copy for you--I must. + +'This is the happiest day of my hole (_sic_) life, for now dearest +Vittorio Emanuele is really _nostro re_.' + +Pen's weak point does not lie in his politics, Mr. Chorley, but in his +spelling. When his contadini have done their day's work he takes it on +him to read aloud to them the poems of the revolutionary Venetian poet +Dall' Ongaro, to their great applause. Then I must tell you of his +music. He is strong in music for ten years old--and plays a sonata of +Beethoven already (in E flat--opera 7) and the first four books of +Stephen Heller; to say nothing of various pieces by modern German +composers in which there is need of considerable execution. Robert is +the maestro, and sits by him two hours every day, with an amount of +patience and persistence really extraordinary. Also for two months back, +since I have been thrown out of work, Robert has heard the child all his +other lessons. Isn't it very, very good of him? + +Do write to us and tell me how your sister is, and also how you are in +spirits and towards the things of the world? Give her my love--will you? + +I had a letter some time ago from poor Jessie Mario, from Bologna. +Respect her. She hindered her husband from fighting with Garibaldi for +his country, because Garibaldi fought under L.N., which was so highly +improper. Her letter was not unkind to me, but altogether and insanely +wrong as I considered. (Not more wrong though, and much less wicked, +than the 'Times.') I was too ill at the time to answer it, and +afterwards Robert would not let me, but I should have liked to do it; +it's such a comfort to a woman (and a man?) to _sfogarsi_, as we say +here. Also, I was really uneasy at what might be doing at Bologna; so, +in spite of friendship, it was a relief to me to hear of the police +taking charge of all overt possibilities in that direction. + +Is it really true that 'Adam Bede' is the work of Miss Evans? The woman +(as I have heard of her) and the author (as I read her) do not hold +together. May God bless you, my dear friend! Robert shall say so for +himself. + +Ever affectionately yours, +ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. + +My dear Mr. Chorley,--Reading over what I have written I find that I +have been so basely ungrateful as not to say the thing I would when I +would thank you. Your _Dedication_ will be accepted with a true sense of +kindness and honor together; I shall be proud and thankful. But perhaps +you have changed your mind in the course of this long silence. + +And now where's room for Robert? + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss I. Blagden_ + +Villa Alberti, [Siena]: +Tuesday [September-October, 1859]. + +Ever dearest Isa,--Yes, I am delighted. + +Evviva il nostro re! It isn't a very distinct acceptance, however, but +as distinct as could be expected reasonably.[68] Under conditions, of +course. + +On Friday morning before noon up to our door came Mr. Russell's +carriage. He had closed with Robert's proposition at once, and we made +room for him without much difficulty, and were very glad to see him. I +didn't go in to dinner, and he and Robert went to the Storys in the +evening--so that it wasn't too much for me--and then I really like +him--he is refined and amiable, and acute and liberal (as an Englishman +can be), full of 'traditions' or prejudices, to use the right word. To +my surprise he _knew_ scarcely anything; and, as I modestly observed to +Robert, 'didn't understand the Italian question half as well as I +understand it.' Of course there was a quantity of gossip in the +anti-Napoleon sense; how the Emperor told the King of the peace over the +soup, twirling his moustache; and how the King swore like a trooper at +the Emperor in consequence; and how the Emperor took it all very +well--didn't mind at all and how, and how--things which are manifestly +impossible and which Robert tells me I ought not to repeat, in order not +to multiply such vain tales. There is Metternich the younger (ambassador +in Paris), a personal friend of Odo Russell's, in whose bosom Louis +Napoleon seems to pour the confidences of his heart about that '_coquin +de Cavour_ who led him into the Italian war,' &c., &c., but it simply +proves to you and me how an Austrian can lie, which we could guess +before. + +My _facts_ are these: First, Ferdinando IV.[69] has an ambassador in +Rome, who has been received officially by the Pope (!!) ('The coolest +thing that ever was'), and is paid out of the private purse of the Royal +Highness. There is another ambassador at Naples, and another at +Vienna--on the same terms; so let no one talk of 'Decheance.' + +Then let me tell you what Mr. Russell said to me. 'Napoleon,' said he, +'has been too _fin_ for the English Government. He made us acknowledge +the Tuscan vote. Now he has strictly forbidden Piedmont to accept, and +Piedmont must therefore refuse. The consequences of which will be that +there must be another vote in Tuscany, by which Prince Napoleon will be +elected; and we, having acknowledged the first vote, must acknowledge +the second.' + +Of course I protested; disbelieved in the forbidding, and believed in +the accepting. He 'hoped it might be so'--in the civil way with which +people put away preposterous opinions--and left us on Saturday night at +ten, just too late to hear of the 'fait accompli.' + +Out of all _that_, I rescue my fact that _Napoleon made the English +Government acknowledge the Tuscan vote_. + +Don't let Kate put any of this into American papers, because Mr. Russell +was our guest, observe, and spoke trustingly to us. He had just arrived +from England, and went on to Rome without further delay. + +The word _Venice_ makes my heart beat. Has Guiducci any grounds for hope +about Venice? If Austria could be _bought_ off at any price! Something +has evidently been promised at Villafranca on the subject of Venice; and +evidently the late strengthening of the hands of Piedmont will render +the Austrian occupation on any terms more and more difficult and +precarious. + +I should agree with you on Prince Napoleon, if it were not that I want +the Emperor's disinterestedness to remain in its high place. We can't +spare great men and great deeds out of the honour of the world. There +are so few. + +For the rest, the Prince would have been a popular and natural choice at +one time, and as far as central Italy was concerned. Also he is very +liberal in opinion, and full of ideas, I have been told. + +But the fusion is a wiser step _now,_ and altogether--even if we could +spare the Emperor's fame. Do you remember the obloquy he suffered for +Neufchatel? and how it came out that, if he pressed his conditions, it +was simply because he meant to fight for the independence of the State? +and how at last the Swiss delegates went to Paris to offer their +gratitude for the deliverance he had attained for the people? His +loyalty will come out clean before the eyes of his enemies now as then. +We agree absolutely. And Robert does not dissent, I think. Facts begin +to be conclusive to him. + +You are an angel, dearest Isa, with the tact of a woman of the world. +This in reference to the note you sent me, and your answer. You could +not have done better--not at all. + +Our kind love to Kate--and mind you give our regards to Dr. Gresonowsky. +Also to Mr. Jarves--poor Mr. Jarves--how sorry I am about the pictures! + +Robert will write another time, he says, 'with kindest love.' + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +[Siena: September-October, 1859.] + +My dearest Sarianna,--We are on the verge of returning to Florence, for +a short time--only to pack up, I believe, and go further south--to 'meet +the revolution,' tell the dearest Nonno, with my love. The case is that +though I am really convalescent and look well (Robert has even let me +take to Penini a little, which is conclusive), it is considered +dangerous for me to run the risk of even a Florence winter. You see I +have been _very_ ill. The physician thought there was pressure of the +lungs on the _heart_, and, under those circumstances, that I _must_ +avoid irritation of the lungs by any cold. Say nothing which can reach +my sisters and frighten them; and after all I care very little about +doctors, except that I do know myself how hard renewals of the late +attack would go with me. But I mean to take care, and use God's +opportunities of getting strong again. Also it seems to me that I have +taken a leap within these ten days, and that the strength comes back in +a fuller tide. After all, it is not a cruel punishment to us to have to +go to Rome again this winter, though it will be an undesirable expense, +and though we did wish to keep quiet this winter, the taste for constant +wanderings having passed away as much for me as for Robert. We begin to +see that by no possible means can one spend as much money to so small an +end. And then we don't work so well--don't live to as much use, either +for ourselves or others. Isa Blagden bids us observe that we pretend to +live at Florence, and are not there much above two months in the year, +what with going away for the summer and going away for the winter. It's +too true. It's the drawback of Italy. To live in one place here is +impossible for us almost, just as to live out of Italy at all is +impossible for us. It isn't caprice--that's all I mean to say--on our +part. + +Siena pleases us very much. The silence and repose have been heavenly +things to me, and the country is very pretty, though no more than +pretty--nothing marked or romantic, no mountains (did you fancy us on +the mountains?) except so far off as to be like a cloud only, on clear +days, and no water. Pretty, dimpled ground, covered with low vineyards; +purple hills, not high, with the sunsets clothing them. But I like the +place, and feel loth to return to Florence from this half-furnished +villa and stone floors. The weather is still very hot, but no longer +past bearing, and we are enjoying it, staying on from day to day. Robert +proposed Palermo instead of Rome, but I shrink a little from the +prospect of our being cut up into mincemeat by patriotic Sicilians, +though the English fleet (which he reminds me of) might obtain for you +and for England the most 'satisfactory compensation' of the pecuniary +kind. At Rome I shall not be frightened, knowing my Italians. Then there +will be more comfort, and, besides, no horrible sea-voyage. Some +Americans have told us that the Mediterranean is twice as bad as the +Atlantic. I always thought it _twice as bad as anything_, as people say +elegantly. We shall not leave Florence till November. Robert must see W. +Landor (his adopted son, Sarianna) settled in his new apartment, with +Wilson for a duenna. It's an excellent plan for him, and not a bad one +for Wilson. He will pay a pound (English) a week for his three rooms, +and she is to receive twenty-two pounds a year for the care she is to +take of him, besides what is left of his rations. Forgive me if Robert +has told you this already. Dear darling Robert amuses me by talking of +his 'gentleness and sweetness.' A most courteous and refined gentleman +he is, of course, and very affectionate to Robert (as he ought to be), +but of self-restraint he has not a grain, and of suspiciousness many +grains. Wilson will run certain risks, and I for one would rather not +meet them. What do you say to dashing down a plate on the floor when you +don't like what's on it? And the contadini at whose house he is lodging +now have been already accused of opening desks. Still, upon that +occasion (though there was talk of the probability of Landor's throat +being 'cut in his sleep'), as on other occasions, Robert succeeded in +soothing him, and the poor old lion is very quiet on the whole, roaring +softly, to beguile the time, in Latin alcaics against his wife and Louis +Napoleon. He laughs carnivorously when I tell him that one of these +days he will have to write an ode in honour of the Emperor, to please +_me_. + +Little Pen has been in the utmost excitement lately about his pony, +which Robert is actually going to buy for him. I am said to be the +spoiler, but mark! I will confess to you that, considering how we run to +and fro, it never would have entered into the extravagance of my love to +set up a pony for Penini. When I heard of it first, I opened my eyes +wide, only no amount of discretion on my part could enable me to take +part against both Pen and Robert in a matter which pleases Pen. I hope +they won't combine to give me an Austrian daughter-in-law when Peni is +sixteen. So I say 'Yes,' 'Yes,' 'Certainly,' and the pony is to be +bought, and carried to Rome (fancy that!), and we are to hunt up some +small Italian princes and princesses to ride with him at Rome (I object +to Hatty Hosmer, who has been thrown thirty times[70]). In fact, Pen has +been very coaxing about the pony. He has beset Robert in private and +then, as privately, entreated me, 'if papa spoke to me about the pony, +not to _discourage_ him.' So I discouraged nobody, but am rather +triumphantly glad, upon the whole, that we have done such a very +foolish, extravagant thing. + +Robert will have told you, I am sure, what a lovely picture Mr. Wilde, +the American artist (staying with the Storys), has made of Penini on +horseback, and presented to me. It is to be exhibited in the spring in +London, but before then, either at Rome or Florence, we will have a +photograph made from it to send you. By the way, Mr. Monroe failed us +about the photograph from the bust. He said he had tried in vain once, +but would try again. The child is no less pretty and graceful than he +was, and he rides, as he does everything, with a grace which is +striking. He gallops like the wind, and with an absolute +fearlessness--he who is timid about sleeping in a room by himself, poor +darling. He has had a very happy time here (besides the pony) having +made friends with all the contadini, who adore him, and helped them to +keep the sheep, catch the stray cows, drive the oxen in the grape-carts, +and to bring in the vintage generally, besides reading and expounding +revolutionary poems to them at evening. The worst of it was, while it +lasted, that he ate so many grapes he could eat nothing else whatever. +Still, he looks rosy and well, and there's nothing to regret.... + +Robert has let his moustache and beard grow together, and looks very +picturesque. I thought I should not like the moustache, but I do. He is +in very good looks altogether, though, in spite of remonstrances, he has +given up walking before breakfast, and doesn't walk at any time half +enough. _I_ was in fault chiefly, because he both sate up at night with +me and kept by me when I was generally ill in the mornings. So I +oughtn't to grumble--but I do.... Love to dear M. Milsand. We are in +increasing spirits on Italian affairs. + +Your very affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +In October they returned to Florence, though only for about six weeks, +before moving on to Rome for the winter. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +[Florence]: Casa Guidi: Friday [October 1859]. + +Ever dearest Mona Nina,--Here we are at our Florence, very thankful for +the advantages of our Siena residence. God has been kind. When I think +how I went away and how I came back, it seems to me wonderful. For the +latter fortnight the tide of life seemed fairly to set in again, and now +I am quite well, if not as strong--which, of course, could not be in the +time. My doctor opened his eyes to see me yesterday so right in looks +and ways. But we spend the winter in Rome, because the great guns of the +revolution (and even the small daggers) will be safer to encounter than +any sort of tramontana. To tell you the truth, dearest friend, there +have been moments when I have 'despaired of the republic'--that is, +doubted much whether I should ever be quite well again; I mean as +tolerably well as it is my normal state to be. So severe the attack was +altogether. + +As to political affairs, I will use the word of Penini's music-master +when asked the other day how they went on--'_Divinamente_,' said he. +Things are certainly going _divinamente_. I observe that, while +politicians by profession, by the way, have various opinions, and hope +and fear according to their temperaments, _the people_ here are steadily +sanguine, distrusting nobody if it isn't a Mazzinian or a codino, and +looking to the end with a profound interest, of course, but not any +inquietude. '_Divinamente_' things are going on. + +There is an expectation, indeed, of fighting, but only with the Pope's +troops (and we all know what a '_soldato del papa_' means), or with such +mongrel defenders as can be got up by the convicts of Modena or Tuscany +to give us an occasion of triumph presently. The expected outburst in +Sicily and the Neapolitan States will simply extend the movement. That's +_our_ way of thinking and hoping. May God defend the right! + +Mr. Probyn, a Liberal M.P., has come out here to appreciate the +situation, and said last night that, after visiting the north of Italy +and speaking with the chiefs, he is full of hope. Not quite so is +Cartwright, whom you know, and who came to us at Siena. But Mr. +Cartwright exceeds Dr. Cumming in the view of Napoleon, who isn't +Antichrist to him, but is assuredly the devil. I like Mr. Cartwright, +observe, but I don't like his modes of political thinking, which are +'after the strictest sect' and the reddest-tape English. He and his +family are gone to Rome, and find the whole city 'to be hired.' Family +men in general are not likely to go there this winter, and we shall find +the coast very clear. And _you_--dearest friend, you seem to have given +up Italy altogether this winter. Unless you come to Rome, we shall not +be the better for your crossing the Alps. The Eckleys have settled in +Florence till next year. The Perkinses also. Isa Blagden is at her +villa, which, if she lets, she may pay Miss Cushman a visit in Rome +towards the spring, but scarcely earlier. + +After the dreary track of physical discomfort was passed, I enjoyed +Siena much, and so did Robert, and the next time we have to spend a +summer in Tuscany we shall certainly turn our faces that way. When able +to drive, I drove about with Robert and enjoyed the lovely country; and +once, on the last day, I ventured into the gallery and saw the divine +Eve of Sodoma for the second time. But I never entered the +cathedral--think of that! There were steps to be mounted. But I have the +vision of it safe within me since nine years ago. The Storys, let me +remember to tell you gratefully, were very kind and very delicate, +offering all kindnesses I could receive, and no other.... + +Did I tell you that Jessie Mario had written to me from Romagna? You +know, in any case, that she and her husband were arrested subsequently +and sent into Switzerland. The other day I had two printed letters from +the newspaper 'Evening Star,' enclosed to me by herself or her brother, +I suppose--one the production of her husband, and one of Brofferio the +advocate. I thought both were written in a detestable spirit, attempting +to throw an odium on the governments of central Italy, which they should +all three have rather died in their own poor personal reputations than +have wished to hazard under present circumstances. Mazzini and his party +have only to keep still, if _indeed_ they do _not_ desire to swamp the +great Italian cause. Every movement made by them is a gain to Austria--a +clear gain. Every word spoken by them, even if it applaud us, goes +against the cause! Whoever has a conscience among them, let him consider +this and be still.... + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss E.F. Haworth_ + +Casa Guidi: November 2 [1859]. + +My dearest Fanny,--I this moment receive your letter, and hasten to +answer it lest I should be too late for you in Paris. Dear Fanny, you +seem in a chronic transitional state; it's always _crisis_ with you. I +can't _advise_; but I do rather _wonder_ that you don't go at once to +England and see your friends till you can do your business.... You can +get at pictures in England and at artistic society also if you please; +and making a _slancio_ into Germany or to Paris would not be impossible +to you occasionally. + +Does this advice sound _too_ disinterested on my part? Never think so. +We only stand ourselves on one foot in Florence--forced to go away in +the summer; forced to go away in the winter. Robert was so persuaded +even last winter (before my illness) of my being better at Rome that he +would have taken an apartment there and furnished it, except that I +prevented him. Then we have calls from the north, and on most summers we +must be in England and Paris. To stay on through the summer in Florence +is impossible to us at least. Think of thermometers being a hundred and +two in the shade this year! So I consider your case dispassionately, and +conclude _we_ are not worth your consideration in reference to prospects +connected with any place. We are rolling stones gathering no moss. +There's no use for anyone to run after us; but we may roll anyone's way. +I say this, penetrated by your affectionate feeling for us. May God +bless you and keep you, my dear friend. + +As for me, I have been nearly as ill as possible--that's the +truth--suffering so much that the idea of the evil's recurrence makes me +feel nervous. All the Italians who came near me gave me up as a lost +life; but God would not have it so this time, and my old vitality proved +itself strong still. At present I am remarkably well; I had a return of +threatening symptoms a fortnight ago, but they passed. I think I had +been talking too much. Now I feel quite as free and well as usual about +the chest, and 'buoyant' as to general spirits. Affairs in Italy seem +going well, and Napoleon does not forget us, whatever his townsfolk of a +certain class may do. The French newspapers remember us well, I am happy +to see, also. But, my dear Fanny, who am I to give letters to Garibaldi? +I don't know him, nor does he know _me_. Have you acquaintance with +Madame Swartz? _She_ could help Mr. Spicer. But she has just gone to +Rome. And _we_ are going to Rome. Did not Sarianna tell you that? We go +on my account to avoid the tramontana here. People say we are foolhardy +on account of the state of the country; but you are aware we are no more +frightened of revolutions than M. Charles is of the tiger. Prices at +Rome will be more reasonable at any rate. Nobody pays high for a +probability of being massacred. What I'm most afraid of after all is +lest the 'Holiness of our Lord' should agree to reform at the last +moment. It's too late; it must be too late--it ought to be too late.... + +Poor Mr. Landor is in perfect health and in rather good spirits, seeming +reconciled to his fate of exile. In the summer he moaned over it sadly, +'never could be happy except in England'; and I rather leant to sending +him back, I confess. But Mr. Forster and other friends seemed to think +that if he went back he could never be kept from the attack, all would +come over again; and really that was probable. Still, I feared for him +before he went to Siena. It does not do to shake hour-glasses at his +age, and though he had been acclimated here by an eleven years' +residence, still--well; there was nothing for it but to keep him here. +He sighs a little still that it 'does not agree with him,' and that +Florence is a 'very ugly town,' and so on; but still he is evidently +much stronger than when he went to Siena, can walk for an hour together +(instead of failing at the end of the street), and looks quite vigorous +with his snow-white beard and moustache, through which the carnivorous +laugh runs and rings. He doesn't know yet we are going away. He will +miss Robert dreadfully. Robert's goodness to him has really been +apostolical. And think of the effect of a goodness which can quote at +every turn of a phrase something from an author's book! Isn't it more +bewitching than other goodnesses? To certain authors, that is.... + +Dearest Fanny, keep up your spirits, _do_. Write to me to say you are +less sad. And love not less your + +Affectionate +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mr. Chorley_ + +Casa Guidi: November 25 [1859]. + +My dear Friend,--I thank you with all my heart for your most graceful +and touching dedication,[71] and do assure you that I feel it both as +honour and as pleasure. + +And yet, do you know, Robert says that you might peradventure, by the +dedication of your book to me, mean a covert lecture, or sarcasm, who +knows? Even if you did, the kindness of the personal address would make +up for it. Who wouldn't bear both lecture and sarcasm from anyone who +begins by speaking _so_? Therefore I am honoured and pleased and +grateful all the same--yes, and _will_ be. + +But, dear Mr. Chorley, you don't silence me, notwithstanding. The spell +of your dedication hasn't fastened me up in an oak for ever. Your book +is very clever; your characters very incisively given; princess and +patriots admirably cut out (and up!); half truths everywhere, to which +one says 'How true!' But one might as well (and better) say 'How false!' +seeing that, dear Mr. Chorley, it does really take two halves to make a +whole, and we know it. The whole truth is not here--not even suggested +here--and let me add that the half truth on this occasion is cruel. + +One thing is ignored in the book. Under all the ridiculousness, under +all the wickedness even of such men and women, lies _a cause_, a right +inherent, a wrong committed. The cant presupposes a doctrine, and the +pretension a real heroism. Your best people (in your book) seem to have +no notion of this. Your heroine deserves to be a victim, not because she +was rash and ignorant, but because she was selfish and foolish. The +world wasn't lost for her because she loved--either a cause or a +man--but because she wanted change and excitement. If she had felt on +the abstract question as I have known women to feel, even when they have +acted like fools, I should pity her more. As it is, the lesson was +necessary. If she had not married rashly an Italian _birbante_ she would +have married rashly an English blackguard, and I myself see small +difference in the kinds. With _you_, however, to your mind, it is +different; and in this view of yours seems to me to lie the main fault +of your book. You evidently think that God made only the English. The +English are a peculiar people. Their worst is better than the best of +the exterior nations. Over the rest of the world He has cast out His +shoe. Even supposing that a foreigner does, by extraordinary exception, +some good thing, it's only in reaction from having murdered somebody +last year, or at least left his children to starve the year before. +Truth, generosity, nobleness of will and mind, these things do not exist +beyond the influence of the 'Times' newspaper and the 'Saturday Review.' +(By the way, it would be extraordinary if it _were so_.') + +Well, I have lived thirteen years on the Continent, and, far as England +is from Italy, far as the heavens are from the earth, I dissent from +you, dissent from you, dissent from you. + +I say so, and there is an end. It is relief to me, and will make no +impression on you; but for my sake you permit me to say it, I feel sure. + +Dear Mr. Chorley, Robert and I have had true pleasure (in spite of all +this fault-finding) in feeling ourselves close to you in your book. +Volume after volume we have exchanged, talking of you, praising you +here, blaming you there, but always feeling pleasure in reading your +words and speaking your name. Don't say it's the last novel. You, who +can do so much. Write us another at once rather, doing justice to our +sublime Azeglios and acute Cavours and energetic Farinis. If I could +hear an English statesman (Conservative or Liberal) speak out of a large +heart and generous comprehension as I did Azeglio this last spring, I +should thank God for it. I fear I never shall. My boy may, perhaps. Red +tape has garrotted this political generation.... + +I persist in being in high hopes for my Italy. + +Ever affectionately yours +ELIZABETH B. BROWNING. + + * * * * * + + +Early in December the move to Rome took place, and they found rooms at +28 Via del Tritone. During the winter Mrs. Browning was preparing for +the press her last volume, the 'Poems before Congress,' while her +husband, in a fit of disinclination to write poetry, occupied himself by +trying his hand at sculpture. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +[Rome: December 1859.] + +Dearest Sarianna,--Robert will have told you of the success of our +journey, which the necessities of Mr. Landor very nearly pushed back +into the cold too late. We had even resolved that if the wind changed +before morning we would accept it 'as a sign' and altogether give up +Rome. We were all but run to ground, you see. Happily it didn't end so; +and here we are in a very nice sunny apartment, which would have been +far beyond our means last year or any year except just now when the +Pope's obstinacy and the rumoured departure of the French have left Rome +a solitude and called it peace--very problematical peace. (Peni, in +despair at leaving Florence, urged on us that 'for mama to have cold air +in her chest would be better than to have a cannon-ball in her stomach'; +but she was unreasonably more afraid of one than of the other.) +Apartments here for which friends of ours paid forty pounds English the +month last winter are going for fifteen or under--or rather not +going--for nobody scarcely comes to take them. The Pope's 'reforms' seem +to be limited, in spite of his alarming position, which is breaking his +heart, he told a friend of Mrs. Stowe's the other day, and out of which +he looks to be relieved only by some special miracle (the American was +quite affected to hear the old man bewail himself!), to an edict against +crinolines, the same being forbidden to sweep the sacred pavement of St. +Peter's. This is _true_, though it sounds like a joke. + +Even Florence has very few English. A crisis is looked for everywhere. +Prices there are rising fast; but one is prepared to pay more for +liberty. Carriages are dearer than in Paris by our new tariff, which is +an item important to me. We left Mr. Landor in great comfort. I went to +see his apartment before it was furnished. Rooms small, but with a look +out into a little garden; quiet and cheerful; and he doesn't mind a +situation rather out of the way. He pays four pound ten (English) the +month. Wilson has _thirty_ pounds a year for taking care of him, which +sounds a good deal; but it _is_ a difficult position. He has excellent, +generous, affectionate impulses, but the impulses of the tiger every now +and then. Nothing coheres in him, either in his opinions, or I fear, +affections. It isn't age; he is precisely the man of his youth, I must +believe. Still, his genius gives him the right of gratitude on all +artists at least, and I must say that my Robert has generously paid the +debt. Robert always said that he owed more as a writer to Landor than to +any contemporary. At present Landor is very fond of him; but I am quite +prepared for his turning against us as he has turned against Forster, +who has been so devoted for years and years. Only one isn't kind for +what one gets by it, or there wouldn't be much kindness in this world. + +I keep well; and of course, at Rome there is more chance for me than +there was in Florence; but I hated to inflict an unpopular journey, of +which the advantage was solely mine. Poor Peni said that if he had to +leave his Florence he would rather go to Paris than to Rome. I dare say +he would. Then his Florentines frightened him with ideas of the awful +massacre we were to be subjected to here. The pony travelled like a +glorified Houyhnhnm and we have brought a second male servant to take +care of him. It was an economy; for the wages of Rome are inordinate. +Pen's tender love to his nonno and you with that of + +Your ever affectionate sister, +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss E.F. Haworth_ + +[Rome]: 28 Via Tritone: Friday [winter 1859]. + +My dearest Fanny,--Set me down as a wretch, but hear me. I have been ill +again, in the first place; then as weak as a rag in consequence, and +then with business accumulated on impotent hands; proofs to see to, and +the like. You may have heard in the buzz of newspapers of certain +presentation _swords_, subscribed for by twenty thousand Romans, at a +franc each, and presented in homage and gratitude to Napoleon III. and +Victor Emmanuel. Castellani[72] of course was the artist, and the whole +business had to be huddled up at the end, because of his Holiness +denouncing all such givers of gifts as traitors to the See. So just as +the swords had to be packed up and disappear, some one came with a shut +carriage to take me for a sight of these most exquisite works of art. It +was five o'clock in the evening and raining, but not cold, so that the +whole world here agreed it couldn't hurt me. I went with Robert +therefore; we were received at Castellani's most flatteringly as poets +and lovers of Italy; were asked for autographs; and returned in a blaze +of glory and satisfaction, to collapse (as far as I'm concerned) in a +near approach to mortality. You see I can't catch a simple cold. All my +bad symptoms came back. Suffocations, singular heart-action, cough +tearing one to atoms. A gigantic blister, however, let me crawl out of +bed at the end of a week, and the advantage of a Roman climate _told_, I +dare say, for the attack was less violent and much less long than the +one in the summer. Only I feel myself brittle, and become aware, of +increased susceptibility. Dr. Gresonowsky warns me against Florence in +the winter. I must be warm, they say. Well, never mind! Now I am well +again, and I don't know why I should have whined so to you. I am well, +and living on asses' milk by way of sustaining the mental calibre; yes, +and able to have _tete-a-tetes_ with Theodore Parker, who believes +nothing, you know, and has been writing a little Christmas book for the +young just now, to prove how they should keep Christmas without a +Christ, and a Mr. Hazard, a spiritualist, who believes everything, walks +and talks with spirits, and impresses Robert with a sense of veracity, +which is more remarkable. I like the man much. He holds the subject on +high grounds, takes the idea and lives on it above the earth. For years +he has given himself to investigation, and has seen the Impossible. +Certainly enough Robert met him and conversed with him, and came back to +tell me what an intelligent and agreeable new American acquaintance he +had made, without knowing that he was Hazard the spiritualist, rather +famous in his department.... Don't fall out of heart with investigation. +It takes patient investigation to establish the number of legs of a +newly remarked fly. Nothing _riles_ me so much as the dogmatism of the +people who pronounce on there being nothing to see, because in half a +dozen experiments, perhaps, they have seen nothing conclusive. + + 'Yet could not all creation pierce + Beyond the bottom of his eye.' + +Mediums cheat certainly. So do people who are not mediums. I +congratulate you on liking anybody better. That's pleasant for _you_ at +any rate. My changes are always the other way. I begin by seeing the +beautiful in most people, and then comes the disillusion. It isn't +caprice or unsteadiness; oh no! it's merely _fate_. _My_ fate, I mean. +Alas, my bubbles, my bubbles! + +But I'm growing too original, and will break off. My Emperor at least +has not deceived me, and I'm going into the fire for him with a little +'brochure' of political poems, which you shall take at Chapman's with +the last edition of 'Aurora' when you go to England. Thank you a hundred +times from both Robert and me for the interesting relation of Cobden's +sayings on him. If Cobden had not rushed beyond civilisation, I should +like to offer him my little book. I should like it. Self-love is the +great malady of England, and immortal would the statesman be who could +and would tear a wider horizon for the popular mind. As to the rifle +cry, _I_ never doubted (for one) that it had its beginning with +'interested persons.' Never was any cry more ignoble. A rescues B from +being murdered by C, and E cries out, 'What if _A_ should murder _me_!' +That's the logic of the subject. And the sentiment is worthy of the +logic. + +I expect to be torn to pieces by English critics for what I have +ventured to write.... + +Write me one of your amusing letters, and take our love, especially + +Your ever affectionate BA'S. + +There is no Roman news, people are so scarce. The Storys have given a +ball, Italians chiefly. We think of little but politics. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +28 Via del Tritone, Rome: December 29 [1859]. + +It was pleasant to have news of you, dearest friends, and to know of +your being comfortably established at Pau this cold winter, as it seems +to be in the north. We came here, flying from the Florence tramontana, +at the very close of November, on the Perugia road, after having been +weather-bound at Casa Guidi till we almost gave up our Roman plan. Most +happily the cold spared us during our six days' journey, which was very +pleasant. I like travelling by vetturino. The fatigue is small, and if +you take a supply of books with you the time does not hang fire. We had +some old Balzacs, which came new (he is one of our gods--heathen, you +will say) and we had, besides, Charles Reade's 'Love me Little, Love me +Long,' which is full of ability. Then Peni had his pony as a source of +interest. The pony was fastened to the vettura horses, and came into +Rome, not merely fresh, but fat. And we have fallen into pleasant places +by way of lodgings here, our friends having prepared a list to choose +from, so that I had only to drop out of the hotel into bright sunny +rooms, which do not cost too much on account of the comparative +desertion of this holy city this year. We arrived on December 3, and +here it is nearly January 1--almost a month. The older one grows the +faster time passes. Do you observe that? You catch the wind of the +wheels in your face, it seems, as you get nearer the end. I observe it +strongly. + +Let me say of myself first that I am particularly well, and feel much +more sure and steady than since my illness. How are you both? I do hope +and trust you can give me good news of yourselves. Do you read aloud to +one another or each alone? Robert and I do the last always. May God +bless you both in health of body and soul, and every source of happiness +for the coming and other years! I wish and pray it out of my heart.... + +And you are studying music? I honour you for it. Do tell me, dearest +Mrs. Martin, did you know nothing of music before, and have you taken up +the piano? I hold a peculiar heresy as to the use hereafter of what we +learn here. When there is no longer any growth in me, I desire to +die--for one. And at present I by no means desire to die. + +So you and others upbraid me with having put myself out of my 'natural +place.' What _is_ one's natural place, I wonder? For the Chinese it is +the inner side of the wall. For the red man it is the forest. The +natural place of everybody, I believe, is within the crust of all manner +of prejudices, social, religious, literary. That is as men conceive of +'natural places.' But, in the highest sense, I ask you, how _can_ a man +or a woman leave his or her natural place. Wherever God's universe is +round, and God's law above, there is a natural place. Circumstances, the +force of natural things, have brought me here and kept me; it is my +natural place. And, intellectually speaking, having grown to a certain +point by help of certain opportunities, my way of regarding the world is +also natural to me, my opinions are the natural deductions of my mind. +Isn't it so? Still I do beg to say both to you and to others accusing +that Italy is not my 'adopted country.' I love Italy, but I love France, +too, and certainly I love England. Because I have broken through what +seems to me the English 'Little Pedlingtonism,' am I to be supposed to +take up an Italian 'Little Pedlingtonism'? No, indeed. I love truth and +justice, or I try to love truth and justice, more than any Plato's or +Shakespeare's country.[73] I certainly do not love the egotism of +England, nor wish to love it. I class England among the most immoral +nations in respect to her foreign politics. And her 'National Defence' +cry fills me with disgust. But this by no means proves that I have +adopted another country--no, indeed! In fact, patriotism in the narrow +sense is a virtue which will wear out, sooner or later, everywhere. Jew +and Greek must drop their antagonisms; and if Christianity is ever to +develop it will not respect frontiers. + +As to Italy, though I nearly broke my heart over her last summer, and +love the Italians deeply, I should feel passionately any similar crisis +anywhere. You cannot judge the people or the question out of the 'Times' +newspaper, whose sole policy is, it seems to me, to get up a war between +France and England, though the world should perish in the struggle. The +amount of fierce untruth uttered in that paper, and sworn to by the +'Saturday Review,' makes the moral sense curdle within one. You do not +_know_ this as we do, and you therefore set it down as matter of +Continental prejudice on my part. Well, time will prove. As to Italy, I +have to put on the rein to prevent myself from hoping into the ideal +again. I am on my guard against another fall from that chariot of the +sun. But things look magnicently, and if I could tell you certain facts +(which I can't) you would admit it. Odo Russell, the English Minister +here (in an occult sense), who, with a very acute mind, is strongly +Russell and English, and was full of the English distrust of L.N., when +with us at Siena last September, came to me two days ago, and said, 'It +is plain now. The Emperor is rather Italian than French. He has worked, +and is working, only for Italy; and whatever has seemed otherwise has +been forced from him in order to keep on terms with his colleagues, the +kings and queens of Europe. Everything that comes out proves it more and +more.' In fact, he has risked everything for the Italians except _their +cause_. I am delighted, among other things, at Cavour's representation +of Italy at the Congress. Antonelli and his party are in desperation, +gnashing their teeth at the Tuileries. The position of the Emperor is +most difficult, but his great brain will master it. We are rather uneasy +about the English Ministry--its work in Congress; it might go out for me +(falling to pieces on the pitiful Suez question or otherwise), but we do +want it at Congress. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +28 Via del Tritone, Rome: February 22 [1860]. + +Dearest, naughtiest Mona Nina,--Where is the place of your soul, your +body abiding at Brighton, that never, no, never, do I hear from you? It +seems hard. Last summer I was near to slipping out of the world, and +then, except for a rap, you might have called on me in vain (and said +rap you wouldn't have believed in). Also, even this winter, even in this +Rome, the city of refuge, I have had an attack, less long and sharp, +indeed, but weakening, and, though I am well now, and have corrected the +proofs of a very thin and wicked 'brochure' on Italian affairs (in +verse, of course), yet still I am not too strong for cod-liver oil and +the affectionateness of such friends as you (I speak as if I had a shoal +of such friends--povera mi!). Write to me, therefore. Especially as the +English critics will worry me alive for my book and you will have to +say, 'Well done, critics!' so write before you read it, to say, 'Ba, I +love you.' That makes up for everything. Oh, I know you did write to me +in the summer. And then I wrote to you; and then there came a _pause_, +which is hard on me, I repeat. + +Geddie has come here, lamenting also. Besides, we have been somewhat +disappointed by your not coming to Italy. Never will you come to Rome as +Geddie expects, late in the spring, to take an apartment close to her, +looking charmingly on the river. I told her quite frankly that you would +not be so unwise. Rome is empty of foreigners this year, a few Americans +standing for all. Then, in the midst of the quiet, deeply does the +passion work: on one side, with the people, on the other in the despair +and rage of the Papal Government. The Pope can't go out to breakfast, to +drink chocolate and talk about 'Divine things' to the 'Christian youth,' +but he stumbles upon the term 'new ideas,' and, falling precipitately +into a fury, neither evangelical nor angelical, calls Napoleon a +_sicario_ (cut-throat), and Vittorio Emanuele an _assassino_. The French +head of police, who was present, whispered to acquaintances of ours, +'Comme il enrage le saint pere!' In fact, all dignity has been +repeatedly forgotten in simple _rage_. Affairs of Italy generally are +going on to the goal, and we look for the best and glorious results, +perhaps _not without more fighting_. Certainly we can't leave Venetia in +the mouth of Austria by a second Villafranca. We cannot and will not. +And, sooner or later, the Emperor is prepared, I think, to carry us +through. Odo Russell told me (without my putting any question to him) +that everything, as it came out, proved how true he had been to +Italy--that, in fact, he had 'rather acted as an Italian than as a +Frenchman.' And Mr. Russell, while liberal, is himself very English, and +free from Buonaparte tendencies from hair to heel. + +We often have letters from dear Isa Blagden, who sends me the Florence +news, more shining from day to day. Central Italy seems safe. + +But let me tell you of my thin slice of a wicked book. Yes, I shall +expect you to read it, and I send you an order for it to Chapman, +therefore. Everybody will hate me for it, and so _you must_ try hard to +love me the more to make up for that. Say it's mad, and bad, and sad; +but _add_ that somebody did it who meant it, thought it, felt it, +throbbed it out with heart and brain, and that she holds it for truth in +conscience and not in partisanship. I want to tell you (oh, I can't help +telling you) that when the ode was read before Peni, at the part +relating to Italy his eyes overflowed, and down he threw himself on the +sofa, hiding his face. The child has been very earnest about Italian +politics. The heroine of that poem called 'The Dance'[74] was Madame di +Laiatico. The 'Court Lady' is an individualisation of a general fashion, +the ladies at Milan having gone to the hospitals in full dress and in +open carriages. Macmahon taking up the child[75] is also historical. I +believe the facts to be in the book: 'He has done it all,'[76] were +Cavour's words. When you see an advertisement and have an opportunity to +apply at Chapman's, do so 'by this sign' enclosed. I read of you in the +papers, stirring up the women. + +Write and say how you are, and where you are. + +[_Part of this letter is missing._] + +Your ever very affectionate +BA. + +I hope you liked the article on the immorality of luncheon-rooms in your +high-minded 'Saturday Review.' + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[62] Prime Minister of Piedmont from 1849-52, and one of the most +honourable and patriotic of Italian statesmen. + +[63] Subsequently English ambassador at Berlin, and one of the +plenipotentiaries at the Berlin Congress of 1878. Created Lord Ampthill +in 1881, and died in 1884. + +[64] Now in the possession of Mr. R. Barrett Browning. + +[65] The conferences for the arrangement of the final treaty of peace +were held at Zurich. + +[66] Of Tuscany with Piedmont, which was voted by Tuscany in August. +Modena, Parma, and Romagna did the same, and so made the critical step +towards the creation of a united Italy. + +[67] It was supposed that Napoleon contemplated constituting Central +Italy, or at least Tuscany, into a kingdom for his brother Jerome, and +that it was for this reason that the latter had been sent to Florence +with a French corps at the beginning of the war. + +[68] Napoleon being opposed to the idea of a united Italy, Victor +Emmanuel did not consider it wise to accept the proffered crown of +Central Italy while a French army was still in the country and the terms +of peace were not finally settled. + +[69] The new Duke of Tuscany. He had succeeded to this now very shadowy +throne on July 21 of this year. + +[70] Not on account of bad riding, be it observed, but of daring and +venturesome riding. + +[71] Mr. Chorley had dedicated his last novel, _Roccabella_, to Mrs. +Browning. + +[72] + + 'Do you see this ring? + 'Tis Rome-work, made to match + (By _Castellani's_ imitative craft) + Etrurian circlets,' etc. + + (_The Ring and the Book_, i. 1-4.) + +[73] Mrs. Browning is here quoting from her own preface to _Poems before +Congress_. + +[74] _Poetical Works_, iv. 190. + +[75] See 'Napoleon III. in Italy,' stanza 11, _ibid._ p. 181. The +incident occurred at Macmahon's entry into Milan, three days after +Magenta. + +[76] _Ibid._ stanza 12. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +1860-1861 + + +Early in 1860 the promised booklet, 'Poems before Congress,' was +published in England, and met with very much the reception the authoress +had anticipated. It contained only eight poems, all but one relating to +the Italian question. Published at a time when the events to which they +alluded were still matters of current controversy, they could not but be +regarded rather as pamphleteering than as poetry; and it could hardly be +expected that the ordinary Englishman, whose sympathy with Italy did not +abolish his mistrust (eminently justifiable, as later revelations have +shown it to be) of Louis Napoleon, should read with equanimity the +continual scorn of English policy and motives, or the continual +exaltation of the Emperor. Looking back now over a distance of nearly +forty years, and when the Second Empire, with all its merits and its +sins, has long gone to its account, we can, at least in part, put aside +the politics and enjoy the poetry. Though pieces like 'The Dance' and 'A +Court Lady' are not of much permanent value, there are many fine +passages, notably in 'Napoleon III. in Italy,' and 'Italy and the +World,' in which a true and noble enthusiasm is expressed in living and +burning words, worthy of a poet. + +For attacks on her Italian politics Mrs. Browning was prepared, as the +foregoing letters show; but one incident caused her real and quite +unexpected annoyance. The reviewer in the 'Athenaeum' (apparently Mr. +Chorley) by some unaccountable oversight took the 'Curse for a Nation' +to apply to England, instead of being (as it obviously is) a +denunciation of American slavery. Consequently he referred to this poem +in terms of strong censure, as improper and unpatriotic on the part of +an English writer; and a protest from Mrs. Browning only elicited a +somewhat grudging editorial note, in a tone which implied that the +interpretation which the reviewer had put upon the poem was one which it +would naturally bear. One can hardly be surprised at the annoyance which +this treatment caused to Mrs. Browning, though some of the phrases in +which she speaks of it bear signs of the excitement which characterised +so much of her thought in these years of mental strain and stress, and +bodily weakness and decay. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Jameson_ + +(Fragment) [Early in 1860.] + +I remember well your kindness to it. Nothing was said then about the +'fit arguments for poetry,' and I recovered from it to write 'Aurora +Leigh,' of which, however, many people did say that it was built on an +unfit argument, and besides was a very indecent, corrupting book (have I +not heard of ladies of sixty, who had 'never felt themselves pure since +reading it'?) But now, consider. Since you did not lose hope for me in +'Casa Guidi Windows,' because the line of politics was your own, why +need you despair of me in the 'Poems before Congress,' although I do +praise the devil in them? A mistake is not fatal to a critic? need it be +to a poet? Does Napoleon's being wicked (if he is so) make Italy less +interesting? or unfit for poetry historical subjects like 'The Dance' or +the 'Court Lady'? Meanwhile that thin-skinned people the Americans +exceed some of you in generosity, rendering thanks to reprovers of their +ill deeds, and understanding the pure love of the motive.[77] Let me +tell you rather for their sake than mine. I have extravagant praises and +_prices_ offered to me from 'over the western sun,' in consequence of +these very 'Poems before Congress.' The nation is generous in these +things and not 'thin-skinned.' + +As to England, I shall be forgiven in time. The first part of a campaign +and the first part of a discussion are the least favourable to English +successes. After a while (by the time you have learnt to shoot cats with +the new rifles), you will put them away, and arrive at the happy second +thought which corrects the first thought. That second thought will not +be of _invasion_, prophesies a headless prophet. 'Time was when heads +were off a man would die.' A man--yes. But a woman! _We_ die hard, you +know. + +Here, an end. I hope you will write to me some day, and ease me by +proving to me that I have ceased to be bitter to the palate of your +soul. Believe this--that, rather than be a serious sadness to you, I +would gladly sit on in the pillory under the aggressive mud of that mob +of 'Saturday Reviewers,' who take their mud and their morals from the +same place, and use voices hoarse with hooting down un-English +poetesses, to cheer on the English champion, Tom Sayers. For me, I +neither wish for the 'belt'[78] nor martyrdom; but if I were ambitious +of anything, it might be to be wronged where, for instance, Cavour is +wronged. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss I. Blagden_ + +[Rome], Friday [end of March 1860]. + +My ever dearest Isa, I am scarcely in heart yet for writing letters, and +did not mean to write to-day. You heard of the unexpected event which +brought me the loss of a very dear friend, dear, dear Mrs. Jameson.[79] +It was, of course, a shock to me, as such things are meant to be.... + +And now I come to what makes me tax you with a dull letter, I feeling so +dully; and, dear, it is with dismay I have to tell you that the letter +you addressed under cover to Mr. Russell has _never reached us_. Till +your last communication (this moment received), I had hoped that the +contents of it might have been less important than O.-papers must be. +What is to be done, or thought? I beseech you to write and tell me if +_harm_ is likely to follow from this seizure. The other inclosure came +to me quite safely, because it came by the Government messenger. I think +you sent it through Corbet. But Mr. Russell's _post_ letters are as +liable to opening as mine are; his name is no security. Whenever you +send a 'Nazione' newspaper through him, it never reaches us, though we +receive our 'Monitore' through him regularly. Why? Because in his +position he is allowed to have newspapers for his own use. He takes in +for himself no 'Monitore,' so ours goes to his account, but he does take +in a 'Nazione,' therefore ours is seized, as being plainly for other +hands than his own licensed ones. + +I am very much grieved about this loss of your letter and its contents. +First, there's my fear lest harm should come of this, and then there's +my own personal _mulcting_ of what would have been of such deep interest +to me. I am 'revelling'? See how little. + +Robert wrote in a playful vein to Kate, and you must not and will not +care for that. He had understood from your letter that you and the +majority had all, like the 'Athenaeum,' understood the 'Curse for a +Nation' to be directed against England. Robert was _furious_ about the +'Athenaeum'; no other word describes him, and I thought that both I and +Mr. Chorley would perish together, seeing that even the accusation (such +a one!) made me infamous, it seemed. + +The curious thing is, that it was at Robert's suggestion that that +particular poem was reprinted there (it never had appeared in England), +though 'Barkis was willing'; I had no manner of objection. I never have +to justice. + +Mr. Chorley's review is objectionable to me because unjust. A reviewer +should read the book he gives judgment on, and he could not have read +from beginning to end the particular poem in question, and have +expounded its significance so. I wrote a letter on the subject to the +'Athenaeum' to correct this mis-statement, which I cared for chiefly on +Robert's account. + +In fact, _I_ cursed neither England nor America. I leave such things to +our Holy Father here; the poem only pointed out how the curse was +involved in the action of slave-holding. + +I never saw Robert so enraged about a criticism. He is better now, let +me add. + +In the matter of Savoy,[80] it has vexed and vexes me, I do confess to +you. It's a handle given to various kinds of dirty hands, it spoils the +beauty and glory of much, the uncontested admiration of which would have +done good to the world. At the same time, as long as Piedmont and Savoy +agree in the annexation to France, there is nothing to object to--not to +object to with a reasonable mind. And it seems to be understood (it is +stated in fact), that the cession is under condition of the assent of +the populations. The Vote is necessary to the honour of France. I do not +doubt that it will be consulted. Meantime there is too much haste, I +think. There is a haste somewhat indelicate in the introduction of +French garrisons into Savoy, previous to the popular conclusion being +known. There should have been mixed garrisons, French and Piedmontese, +till the vote was taken. Napoleon should have been more particular in +Savoy than he was even in central Italy, as to the advance of any +occasion of the current charge of 'pressure.' + +Altogether the subject is an anxious one--would be, even if less +rancorous violence on the part of his enemies were wreaked upon it. The +English Tories are using it with the frenzy of despair, and no wonder! + +Lamoriciere's arrival is another proof of the internal coalition against +the Empire. + +Now I must end, Robert says, or I shall lose the post. My true best +love, and Robert's--and Peni's. + +Write to me, do, dearest Isa, and tell me if the MSS. sent were +_nuisibles_. The Excommunication just out is said to include the +Emperor. + +Your ever loving +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +[Rome: about March 1860.] + +Dearest Sarianna,--It is impossible to have a regret for dear Lady +Elgin. She has been imprisoned here under double chains too long. To be +out of the dark and the restraint is a blessing to that spirit, and must +be felt so by all who love her. Of course I shall write to Lady Augusta +Bruce.... + +No, I don't think there is much to be forgiven by my countrymen in my +book. What I reproach them for, none of them deny. They certainly took +no part in the war, nor will they if there is more war, and certainly +the existence of the rifle clubs is a fact. + +Robert and I began to write on the Italian question together, and our +plan was (Robert's own suggestion!) to publish jointly. When I showed +him my ode on Napoleon he observed that I was gentle to England in +comparison to what he had been, but after Villafranca (the Palmerston +Ministry having come in) he destroyed his poem and left me alone, and I +determined to stand alone. What Robert had written no longer suited the +moment; but the poetical devil in me burnt on for an utterance. I have +spoken nothing but historical truths, as far as the outline is +concerned. But the spirit of the whole, is, of course, opposed to the +national feeling, or I should not in my preface suppose it to be +offended. + +With every deference to you, dearest Sarianna, I cannot think that you +who live, as the English usually do, quite aside and apart from French +society, can judge of the interest in France for Italy. I see French +letters--letters of French men and women--giving a very contrary +impression. The French newspapers give a very contrary impression. And +the statistics of books and pamphlets published and circulated in France +on the Italian question this year are in most prodigious disaccord with +such a conclusion. Compare them with the same statistics in England, and +then judge. + +Besides, the English, to do them justice, can be active and generous in +any cause in which they are really interested, and it is a fact that we +could not get up a subscription in England even for Garibaldi's muskets +lately, while France is always giving. + +Not that there are not, and have not been, many English of generous +sympathies towards Italy. That I well know. But it is a small, +protesting minority. Lord John has done very well, as far as words can +go, but it has been simply in giving effect to the intentions of France, +who wanted much a respectable conservative Power like England to endorse +her bill of revolution with the retrograde European Governments. + +I will spare what I think of the treatment in England of the Savoy +question. We are losing all moral prestige in the eyes of the world, +with our small jealousies and factional struggles for power. + +Ah! dear Sarianna, I don't complain for myself of an unappreciating +public--_I have no reason_. But, just for _that_ reason, I complain +more about Robert, only he does not hear me complain. To _you_ I may +say, that the blindness, deafness, and stupidity of the English public +to Robert are amazing. Of course Milsand had 'heard his name'! Well, the +contrary would have been strange. Robert _is_. All England can't prevent +his existence, I suppose. But nobody there, except a small knot of +pre-Raffaelite men, pretends to do him justice. Mr. Forster has done the +best in the press. As a sort of lion, Robert has his range in society, +and, for the rest, you should see Chapman's returns; while in America +he's a power, a writer, a poet. He is read--he lives in the hearts of +the people. 'Browning readings' here in Boston; 'Browning evenings' +there. For the rest, the English hunt lions too, Sarianna, but their +favourite lions are chosen among 'lords' chiefly, or 'railroad kings.' +'It's worth _eating much dirt_,' said an Englishman of high family and +character here, 'to get to Lady ----'s soiree.' Americans will eat dirt +to get to _us_. There's the difference. English people will come and +stare at _me_ sometimes, but physicians, dentists, who serve me and +refuse their fees, artists who give me pictures, friends who give up +their carriages and make other practical sacrifices, are _not +English_--no--though English Woolner was generous about a bust. Let _me_ +be just at least. + +There is a beautiful photograph of Wilde's picture of Pen on horseback, +which shall go to you, the likeness better than in the picture. + +I can scarcely allude to the loss of my loved friend Mrs. Jameson. It's +a blot more on the world to me. Best love to you and the dear Nonno from +Pen and myself. The editor of the 'Atlas' writes to thank me for the +justice and courage of my international politics. English clergyman +stops at the door to say to the servant, 'he does not know me, but +applauds my sentiments.' So there may be ten just persons who spare + +Your affectionate sister. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss I. Blagden_ + +[Rome]: Saturday [April 1860]. + +My dearest dear Isa, not well! That must be the first word 'by return of +post.' Dear, let me have a better letter, to say that you are well and +bright again, and brilliant Isa as customary. + +And now, join me in admiration of the 'husband Browning!' Isn't he a +miracle, whoever else may be? The wife Browning, not to name most other +human beings, would have certainly put the 'Monitore' receipt into the +fire, or, at best, lost it. In fact, whisper it not in the streets of +Askelon, but _she_ had forgotten even the fact of its having been sent, +and was quietly concluding that Wilson had lost it in a fog and that we +should have patiently to pay twice. Not at all. Up rises the husband +Browning, superior to his mate, and with eyes all fire, holds up the +receipt like an heroic rifleman looking to a French invasion at the end +of a hundred years. Blessed be they who keep receipts. It is a beatitude +beyond my reach. + +Only I do hope my Tuscan friends of the 'Monitore' are only careless and +forgetful in their business habits, and that they didn't think of +'annexing'--eh, Isa! No, I don't believe it was dishonesty, it might +have so very well been oblivion. + +May the paper come to-day, that's all. We get the 'Galignani,' but can't +afford to miss our Italian news. Then, not only we ourselves, but half a +dozen Tuscan exiles here in Rome who are not allowed to read a freely +breathed word, come to us for that paper, friends of Ferdinando's living +in Rome. First he lent them the paper, then they got frightened for fear +of being convicted through some spy of reading such a thing[81], and +prayed to come to this house to read it. There have been six of them +sometimes in the evening. We keep a sort of cafe in Rome, observe, and +your 'Monitore' is necessary to us. + +You have seen by this time Lamoriciere's[82] address to the Papal array. +It's extraordinary, while the French are still here, that such a +publication should be permitted, obvious as the position taken must be +to all, and personally displeasing to the Emperor as the man is known to +be. Magnanimity is certainly a great feature of Napoleon's mind. And now +what next? The French are going, of course. You would suppose an attack +on Romagna imminent. And better so. Let us have it out at once. + +I have the papers. I am much the better for some things in them. There's +to be the universal suffrage, the withdrawal of troops, whatever I +wanted. Cavour's despatch to the Swiss is also excellent. Those injured +martyrs wanted the bone in their teeth, that's all. + +The wailing in England for Swiss and Savoyards, while other +nationalities are to be trodden under foot without intervention, except +what's called _aggression_, is highly irritating to me. + +Dearest Isa, Robert tore me from my last sentence to you. I was going to +say that I cared less for the attacks of the press on my book than I +care for your sympathy. Thank you for feeling 'mad' for me. But be sane +again. Dear, it's not worth being mad for. + +In the advertised 'Blackwood,' do you see an article called 'Poetic +Aberration'? It came into my head that it might be a stone thrown at me, +and Robert went to Monaldini's to glance at it. Sure enough it is a +stone. He says a violent attack. And let me do him justice. It was only +the misstatement in the 'Athenaeum' which overset him, only the first +fire which made him wink. Now he turns a hero's face to all this +cannonading. He doesn't care a straw, he says, and what's more, he +doesn't, really. So I, who was only sorry for him, can't care. Observe, +Isa, if there had been less violence and more generosity, the poems +would obviously have been less deserved. + +The English were not always so thin-skinned. Lord Byron and Moore +have.... + +[_The rest of the letter is lost_] + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss I. Blagden_ + +Rome: April 2, [1860]. + +Ever dearest Isa,--Here are the letters! I am sorry I wrote rashly +yesterday; but from an expression of yours I took for granted that the +packet went by the post; and I have been really very anxious about it. + +No, Isa; I don't like the tone of these letters so well. I can +understand that what is said of Belgium and the Rhine provinces is in +the event of a certain coalition and eventual complication, but it +doesn't do, even in a thought and theory, to sacrifice a country like +Belgium. I respect France, and 'l'idee Napoleonienne'; yes, but +conscience and the populations more. + +As to Napoleon's waiting for the bribe of Savoy before he would pass +beyond Villafranca, this is making him ignoble; and I do not believe it +in the least. Also it contradicts the letter-writer's previous letter, +in which he said that Savoy had been from the beginning the _sous +entendre_ of Venetia. No, I can see that an Italy in unity, a great +newly constituted nation, might be reasonably asked by her liberator to +shift her frontier from beyond the Alps, but for Victor Emmanuel to be +expected at Milan to put his hand into his pocket and pay, without +completion of facts, or consultation of peoples, this would be to 'faire +le marchand' indeed, and I could write no odes to a man who could act +so. I don't sell my soul to Napoleon, and applaud him _quand meme_. But +absolutely I disbelieve in this version, Isa. If the war had not stopped +at Villafranca, it would have been European; _that_, if not clear at the +time, is clear now--clear from the official statement of Prussia. By +putting diplomacy in the place of the war, a great deal was absolutely +attained, besides a better standpoint for a renewal of the war, should +that be necessary. 'Hence those tears'--of Villafranca! + +The letter-writer is very keen, and evidently hears a good deal, while +he selects after his own judgment. _I_ am glad to hear that 'L'Opinion +Nationale' represents the efficient power. That's comfortable. What's to +be done next in the south here rests with _us_, it seems. But what of +the occupation of Rome? And what is the meaning of Lamoriciere being +here 'with the consent of the Emperor'? Lamoriciere can mean no good +either to the French Government or to Italy; and the Emperor knows it +well. + +My dearest Isa, let us make haste to say that of course I shall be glad +to let my book be used as is proposed. How will we get a copy to M. +Fauvety? I enclose an order to Chapman and Hall which M. Dall' +Ongaro[83] may enclose to his friend, who must enclose it on to England, +with a letter conveying his address in Paris. Then the book may be sent +by the _book post_. Wouldn't that do? + +I shall give a copy to Dall' Ongaro (when I can get a supply), and one +for the Trollopes also, never forgetting dear Kate! (and I do expect +copies through the embassy) but I have not seen a word of the book yet. +I only know that, being Caesar's wife, I am not merely 'suspected' (poor +wife!), but dishonored before the 'Athenaeum' world as an unnatural +vixen, who, instead of staying at home and spinning wool, stays at +home[84] and curses her own land. 'It is my own, my native land!' If, +indeed, I had gone abroad and cursed other people's lands, there would +have been no objection. That poem, as addressed to America, has always +been considered rather an amiable and domestic trait on my part. But +England! Heavens and earth! What a crime! The very suspicion of it is +guilt. + +The fact is, between you and me, Isa, certain of those quoted stanzas do +'_fit_' England 'as if they were made for her,' which they were _not_, +though.... + +According to your letters, Venetia seems pushed off into the future a +little, don't you think? + +Still, they are interesting, very. Get Dall' Ongaro to remember me in +future. The details about Antonelli shall go to him. I am delighted at +the idea of being translated by him.... + +Write to me, my dearly loved Isa. You who are true! let me touch you! + +Yours ever from the heart +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss I. Blagden_ + +28 Via del Tritone: +Monday and Tuesday [April 1860]. + +Ever dearest Isa,--I send you under this enclosure an abstract of some +papers given to me by somebody who can't be named, with a sketch of +Antonelli. I wasn't allowed to copy; I was only to abstract. But +everything is in. The whole has been verified and may be absolutely +relied on, I hear. So long I have waited for them. Should I have +translated them into Italian, I wonder? Or can Dall' Ongaro get to the +bottom of them so? Dates of birth are not mentioned, I observe. From +another quarter I may get those. About has the character of romancing a +little. + +Not a word do you say of your health. Do another time. Remember that +your previous letter left you in bed. + +Dearest Isa, how it touched me, your putting away the 'Saturday Review'! +But dear, don't care more for me than I do for myself. That very +Review, lent to us, _we_ lent to the Storys. Dear, the abuse of the +press is the justification of the poems; so don't be reserved about +these attacks. I was a little, little vexed by a letter this morning +from my brother George; but _pazienza_, we must bear these things. +Robert called yesterday on Odo Russell, who observed to him that the +article in the 'Saturday Review' was infamous, and that the general tone +of the newspaper had grown to be so offensive, he should cease to take +it in. (Not on my account, observe.) 'But,' said Mr. Russell, 'it's +extraordinary, the sensation your wife's book has made. Every paper I +see has something to say about it,' added he; 'it is curious. The +offence has been less in the objections to England than in the praise of +Napoleon. Certainly Monckton Milnes said a good thing when he was asked +lately in Paris what, after all, you English wanted. "_We want_" he +answered, "_first, that the Austrians should beat you French thoroughly; +next, we want that the Italians should be free, and then we want them to +be very grateful to us for doing nothing towards it._" This, concluded +Russell, 'sums up the whole question.' Mark, he is very English, but he +can't help seeing what lies before him, having quick perceptions, +moreover. Then men have no courage. Milnes, for instance, keeps his +sarcasm for Paris, and in England supports his rifle club and all +Parliamentary decencies. + +Mind you read 'Blackwood.' Though I was rather vexed by George's letter +(he is awfully vexed) I couldn't help laughing at my sister Henrietta, +who accepts the interpretation of the 'Athenaeum' (having read the poems) +and exclaims, 'But, oh, Ba, such dreadful curses!'... + +Mrs. Apthorp has arrived, but I have not seen her nor received the +paper. Pins were right, though I should have liked some smaller. +'Monitores' arrived up at the 12. Beyond, nothing. I hear that Mr. +Apthorp was struck with the 'brilliant conversation between you and +Miss Cobbe.' You made an impression too, on Mrs. Apthorp. + +Oh, Isa, how I should like to be with you in our Florence to-day. Yes, +yes, I think of you. Here the day is gloomy, and with a sprinkling now +and then of rain. I trust you may have more sun. God bless the city and +the hills, and the people who dwell therein! + +I have just sent a lyric to Thackeray for his magazine.[85] He begged me +for something long ago. Robert suggested that _now_ he probably wanted +nothing from such profane hands. So I told him that in that case he +might send me back my manuscripts. In the more favorable case it may be +still too late for this month. The poem is 'meek as maid,' though the +last thing I wrote--no touch of 'Deborah'--'_A Musical Instrument_.' How +good this 'Cornhill Magazine' is! Anthony Trollope is really superb.[86] +I only just got leave from Robert to send something: he is so averse to +the periodicals as mediums.... + +Lamoriciere's arrival produces a painful sensation among the people +here; and the withdrawal of the French troops has become most unpopular. +I am anxious. If the Emperor has consented to his coming, it was pure +magnanimity, and very characteristic; but the _cost of this_ should be +paid by France and not Italy, we must feel besides. I am content about +Savoy. + +Dearest Isa, you and your 'Saturday Reviewer' shall have Robert's +portrait. Are you sure he didn't ask for _mine_? How good you are to us +and Landor! God bless you, says + +Your tenderly loving +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mr. Chorley_ + +28 Via del Tritone, Rome: April 13, [1860]. + +My dear Mr. Chorley,--It is always better to be frank than otherwise; +sometimes it is necessary to be frank--that is when one would fain keep +a friend, yet has a thing against him which burns in one. I shall put my +foot on this spark in a moment; but first I must throw it out of my +heart you see, and here it is. + +Dearest Mr. Chorley, you have not been just to me in the matter of my +'Poems before Congress.' Why have you not been just to me? You are an +honest man and my friend. Those two things might go together. Your +opinions, critical or political, are free from stress of friendship. I +never expected from you favor or mercy _because_ you were my friend (it +would have been unworthy of us both) but I did expect justice from you, +_although_ you were my friend. That is reasonable. + +And I consider that as a conscientious critic you were bound to read +through the whole of the 'rhyme' called 'A Curse for a Nation' before +ticketing it for the public, and I complain that after neglecting to do +so and making a mistake in consequence, you refused the poor amends of +printing my letter in full. A loose paragraph like this found to-day in +your 'Athenaeum' about Mrs. Browning 'wishing to state' that the 'Curse' +was levelled at America _quoad_ negro-slavery, and the satisfaction of +her English readers in this correction of what was 'generally thought'; +as if Mrs. Browning 'stated' it arbitrarily (perhaps from fright) and as +if the poem stated nothing distinctly, and as if the intention of it +_could_ be 'generally thought' what the 'Athenaeum' critic took it to be, +except by following his lead or adopting his process of a general +skipping of half the said poem--this loose paragraph does not cover a +great fault, it seems to me. Well, I have spoken. + +As to the extent of the 'general thought,' we cannot, of course judge +here, where it is so difficult to get access to periodicals. We have +seen, however, two virulent articles from enemies in 'Blackwood' and the +'Saturday Review,' the latter sparing none of its native mud through +three columns; _not_ to speak of a renewal of the charge in several +political articles with a most flattering persistency. Both these +writers (being enemies) keep clear of the 'general thought' suggested by +a friend, and accepted indeed by friendly and generous reviewers in the +'Atlas' and 'Daily News.' Therefore I feel perfectly unaggrieved by all +the enemies' hard words. They speak from their own point of view, and +have a right to speak. + +In fact, in printing the poems, I did not expect to help my reputation +in England, but simply to deliver my soul, to get the relief to my +conscience and heart, which comes from a pent-up word spoken or a tear +shed. Whatever I may have ever written of the least worth has +represented a conviction in me, something in me felt as a truth. I never +wrote to please any of you, not even to please my own husband. Every +genuine artist in the world (whatever his degree) goes to heaven for +speaking the truth. It is one of the beatitudes of art, and attainable +without putting off the flesh. + +To be plain, and not mystical, it is obvious that if I had expected +compliments and caresses from the English press to my 'Poems before +Congress,' the said poems would have been little deserved in England, +and a greater mistake on my part than any committed by the 'Athenaeum,' +which is saying much. + +There! I have done. The spark is under my shoe. If in 'losing my temper' +I have 'lost my music,' don't let it be said that I have lost my friend +by my own fault and choice also. + +For I would not willingly lose him, though he should be unjust to me +thrice, instead of this once throughout our intercourse. Affectionately +yours, dear Mr. Chorley, + +ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mr. Chorley_ + +28 Via del Tritone, Rome: May 2, [1860]. + +My dear Mr. Chorley,--I make haste to answer your letter, and beg you to +do the like in putting out of your life the least touch of pain or +bitterness connected with me. It is true, true, true, that some of my +earliest gladness in literary sympathy and recognition came from you. I +was grateful to you then as a stranger, and I am not likely ever to +forget it as a friend. Believe this of me, as I feel it of _you_. + +In the matter of reviews and of my last book, and before leaving the +subject for ever, I want you distinctly to understand that my complaint +related simply to the mistake in facts, and not to any mistake in +opinion. The quality of neither mercy nor justice should be strained in +the honest reviewer by the personal motive; and, because you felt a +regard for me, _that_ was no kind of reason why you should like my book. + +In printing the poems, I well knew the storm of execration which would +follow. Your zephyr from the 'Athenaeum' was the first of it, gentle +indeed in comparison with various gusts from other quarters. All fair it +was from your standpoint, to see me as a prophet without a head, or even +as a woman in a shrewish temper, and if my husband had not been +especially pained by my being held up at the end of a fork as the +unnatural she-monster who had 'cursed' her own country (following the +Holy Father), I should have left the '_mistake_' to right itself, +without troubling the 'Athenaeum' office with the letter they would not +insert. In fact, Robert was a little vexed with me for not being vexed +enough. I was only vexed enough when the 'Athenaeum' corrected its +misstatement in its own way. _That did_ extremely vex me, for it made me +look ungenerous, cowardly, mean--as if, in haste to escape from the dogs +in England, I threw them the good name of America. 'Mrs. Browning _now +states_.' + +Well, dear Mr. Chorley, it was not your doing. So the thing that 'vexed +me enough' in you was a mistake of mine. Let us forgive one another our +mistakes; and there, an end. _I_ was wrong in taking for granted that +the letter which referred to your review was entrusted to you to dispose +of; and you were not right in being in too much haste to condemn a book +you disliked to give the due measure of attention to every page of it. +The insurgents being plainly insurgents, you shot one at least of them +without trial, as was done in Spain the other day. True, that even +favorable critics have fallen here and there into your very mistake; but +is not that mainly attributable to the suggestive power of the +'Athenaeum,' do you not believe so yourself? 'Thais led the way!' + +And now that we clasp hands again, my dear friend, let me say one word +as to the 'argument' of my last poems. Once, in a kind and generous +review of 'Aurora Leigh,' you complained a little of 'new lights.' Now I +appeal to you. Is it not rather _you_ than I, who deal in 'new lights,' +if the liberation of a people and the struggle of a nation for existence +have ceased in your mind to be the right arguments for poetry? Observe, +I may be wrong or right about Napoleon. He may be snake, scoundrel, +devil, in his motives. But the thing he did was done before the eyes of +all. His coming here was real, the stroke of his sword was indubitable, +the rising and struggle of the people was beyond controversy, and the +state of things at present is a fact. What if the father of poetry Homer +(to go back to the oldest lights) made a mistake about the cause of +Achilles' wrath. What if Achilles really wanted to get rid of Briseis +and the war together, and sulked in his tent in a great sham? Should we +conclude against the artistic propriety of the poet's argument +therefore? + +You greatly surprise me by such objections. It is objected to 'new +lights,' as far as I know, that we are apt to be too metaphysical, +self-conscious, subjective, everything for which there are hard German +words. The reproaches made against myself have been often of this +nature, as you must be well aware. 'Beyond human sympathies' is a phrase +in use among critics of a certain school. But that, in any school, any +critic should consider the occasions of great tragic movements (such as +a war for the life of a nation) unfit occasions for poetry, improper +arguments, fills me with an astonishment which I can scarcely express +adequately, and, pardon me, I can only understand your objection by a +sad return on the English persistency in its mode of looking at the +Italian war. You have looked at it always too much as a mere table for +throwing dice--so much for France's ambition, so much for Piedmont's, so +much stuff for intrigue in an English Parliament for ousting Whigs, or +inning Conservatives. You have not realised to yourselves the dreadful +struggle for national life, you who, thank God, have your life as a +nation safe. A calm scholastic Italian friend of ours said to my husband +at the peace, '_It's sad to think how the madhouses will fill after +this._' You do not conceive clearly the agony of a whole people with +their house on fire, though Lord Brougham used that very figure to +recommend your international neutrality. No, if you conceived of it, if +you did not dispose of it lightly in your thoughts as of a Roccabella +conspiracy, full half vanity, and only half serious--a Mazzini +explosion, not a quarter justified, and taking place often on an affair +of _metier_--you, a thoughtful and feeling man, would cry aloud that if +poets represent the deepest things, the most tragic things in human +life, they need not go further for an argument. And _I_ say, my dear Mr. +Chorley, that if, while such things are done and suffered, the poet's +business is to rhyme the stars and walk apart, _I_ say that Mr. Carlyle +is right, and that the world requires more earnest workers than such +dreamers can be. + +For my part, I have always conceived otherwise of poetry. I believe that +if anything written by me has been recognised even by _you_, the cause +is that I have written not to please you or any critic, but the deepest +truth out of my own heart and head. I don't dream and make a poem of it. +Art is not either all beauty or all use, it is essential truth which +makes its way through beauty into use. Not that I say this for myself. +Artistically, I may have failed in these poems--that is for the critic +to consider; but in the choice of their argument I have not failed +artistically, _I think_, or my whole artistic life and understanding of +life have failed. + +There, I cannot persuade you of this, but I believe it. I have tried to +stand on the facts of things before I began to feel 'dithyrambically.' +Thought out coldly, then felt upon warmly. I will not admit of 'being +heated out of fairness!' I deny it, and stand upon my innocency. + +And after all, 'Casa Guidi Windows' was a book that commended itself to +you, Mr. Chorley. + +[_The rest of this letter is missing_] + + * * * * * + + +_To John Forster_ + +28 Via del Tritone, Rome: Monday [May 1860]. + +I have tried and taken pains to see the truth, and have spoken it as I +have seemed to see it. If the issue of events shall prove me wrong about +the E. Napoleon, the worse for _him_, I am bold to say, rather than for +me, who have honored him only because I believed his intentions worthy +of the honor of honest souls. + +If he lives long enough, he will explain himself to all. So far, I +cannot help persisting in certain of my views, because they have been +held long enough to be justified by the past on many points. The +intervention in Italy, while it overwhelmed with joy, did not dazzle me +into doubts of the motive of it, but satisfied a patient expectation and +fulfilled a logical inference. Thus it did not present itself to my mind +as a caprice of power, to be followed perhaps by an onslaught on +Belgium, and an invasion of England. These things were out of the beat; +and _are_. There may follow Hungarian, Polish, or other questions--but +there won't follow an English question unless the English _make_ it, +which, I grieve to think, looks every day less impossible. + +Dear Mr. F., have you read 'La Foi des Traites,' written, some of it, by +L.N.'s own hand? Do you consider About's 'Carte de l'Europe' (as the +'Times' does) 'a dull _jeu d'esprit_'? The wit isn't dull, and the +serious intention, hid in those mummy wrappings, is not inauthentic. +Official--certainly not; but Napoleonic--yes. I believe so. And I seem +to myself to have strong reasons. + +But you are sorry that Cavour loves popularity in England. I cried +rather bitterly, 'Better so!' A complete injustice comes to nearly the +same thing as a complete justice. Have we not watched for a year while +every saddle of iniquity has been tried on the Napoleonic back, and +nothing fitted? Wasn't he to crush Piedmontese institutions like so many +egg-shells? Was he ever going away with his army, and hadn't he occupied +houses in Genoa with an intention of bombarding the city? Didn't he keep +troops in the north after Villafranca on purpose to come down on us with +a Grand Duke at best, or otherwise with a swamping Kingdom of Etruria +and Plon-Plon to rule it? and wouldn't he give back Bologna to the Pope +bound by seven devils fiercer than the first, and prove Austria bettered +by Solferino? Also, were not Cipriani, Farini, and other patriots, his +'mere creatures' in treacherous correspondence with the Tuileries; +'doing his dirty work,' 'keeping things in suspense' till destruction +should arrange itself on falsehood? Have I not read and heard from the +most intelligent English journals, and the best-informed English +politicians (men with one foot and two ears in the Cabinet) these true +things written and repeated, and watched while they died out into the +Vast Inane and Immense Absurd from which they were born? + +So I would rather have a rounded, complete injustice, as we can't have +the complete justice. After all, the thing done is only a nation saved. +Hurry up the men who did it on the same cord! Ought not Cavour to be +there? + +And if the Savoy cession is a crime, he is criminal, he, who undeniably +from the beginning contemplated it, not as the price of the war, but as +the condition of a newly constituted Italy. And the condition implies +more than is understood, more than the consenting parties dare to +confess--can at present afford to confess--unless I am deceived by +information, which has hitherto justified itself in the event. Be +patient with me one moment--for if I differ from you, I seem to have +access to another class of facts than you see. If Italy, for instance, +expands itself to a nation of twenty-six millions, would you blame the +Emperor who 'did it all' (Cavour's own phrase) for providing an answer +to his own people in some small foresight about the frontier, when in +the course of fifty or a hundred years they may reproach his memory with +the existence of an oppressive rival or enemy next door? Mr. Russell +said to me last January 'Everything that comes out proves the Emperor to +have acted towards Italy like an Italian rather than a Frenchman.' At +which we applaud; that is, you, and Mr. R., and I, and the Italians +generally applaud. But--let us be just--_that_ would not be a +satisfactory opinion in France of the Head of the State, would it, do +you think? It was obviously his duty not to be negligent of certain +eventualities in the case of his own country, to be a 'Frenchman' +_there_. + +Oh, Savoy has given me pain: and I would rather for the world's sake +that a great action had remained out of reach of the hypothetical +whispers of depreciators. I would rather not hear Robert say, for +instance: 'It was a great action; but he has taken eighteenpence for it, +which is a pity.' I don't think this judgment fair--and much worse +judgments are passed than that, which is very painful. But, after all, +this thing may have been a necessary duty on L.N.'s part, and I can +understand that it was so. For this loss of the Italians, _that_ is not +to be dwelt on; while for the Savoyards, none knew better than Cavour +(not even L.N.) the leaning of those populations towards France for +years back; it has been an inconvenient element of his government. +Whether there are or are not natural frontiers, there are natural +barriers, and the Alps hinder trade and make direct influence difficult; +and what the popular vote would be nobody here doubted. Be sure that +nobody did in Switzerland. The Swiss have been insincere, it seems to +me--talking of terror when they thought chiefly of territory. But I feel +tenderly for poor heroic Garibaldi, who has suffered, he and his +minority. He is not a man of much brain; which makes the subject the +more cruel to him. But I can't write of Garibaldi this morning, so +anxious we are after an unpleasant despatch yesterday. He is a hero, and +has led a forlorn hope out to Sicily, to succeed for Italy, or to fail +for himself. It's 'imprudence,' if he fails: if otherwise, who shall +praise him enough? it's salvation and glory. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss E.F. Haworth_ + +[Rome], 28 Via del Tritone: May 18, 1860 [postmark]. + +My dearest Fanny,--It seems to me that you have drunk so much England, +which cheers _and_ inebriates, as to have forgotten your Italian +friends. Here have I been waiting with my load of gratitude, till my +shoulders ache under it, not knowing to what address to carry it! +Sarianna sent me one address of your London lodgings, with the +satisfactory addition that you were about to move immediately. You +really _might_ have written to me before, unkindest and falsest of +Fannies! Or else (understand) you should not have sent me those graceful +and suggestive drawings, for which only now I am able to thank you. +Thank you, thank you, thank you. It was very kind of you to let me have +them. + +Then, pray how did you get my 'Poems before Congress'? Was I not to send +you an order? Here I send one at least, whether you scorn my gift or +not; and by this sign you will inherit also an 'Aurora Leigh.' + +Yes, I expected nothing better from the 'British public,' which, +strictly conforming itself to the higher civilisation of the age, gives +sympathy only where it gives 'the belt.'[87] As the favorite hero says +in his last eloquent letter, 'In all my actions, whether in private or +public life, may I be worthy of having had the honor ... _of a notice in +the_ "_Times_,"' he concludes 'of the abuse of the "Saturday Review"' +&c., &c., say _I_. + +For the rest, being turned out of the old world, I fall on my feet in +the new world, where people have been generous, and even publishers +turned liberal. Think of my having an offer (on the ground of that book) +from a periodical in New York of a hundred dollars for every single +poem, though as short as a sonnet--that is, for its merely passing +through their pages on the road to the publisher's proper. Oh, I shall +cry aloud and boast, since people choose to abuse me. Did you see how I +was treated in 'Blackwood'? In fact, you and all women, though you hated +me, should be vexed on your own accounts. As for me, it's only what I +expected, and I have had that deep satisfaction of 'speaking though I +died for it,' which we are all apt to aspire to now and then. Do you +know I was half inclined to send my little book to Mr. Cobden, and then +I drew back into my shell, with native snail-shyness. + +We remain here till the end of May, when we remove back to Florence. +Meanwhile I am in great anxiety about Sicily. Garibaldi's hardy +enterprise may be followed by difficult complications. + +Let us talk away from politics, which set my heart beating +uncomfortably, and don't particularly amuse you.... + +Have you read the 'Mill on the Floss,' and what of it? The author is +here, they say, with her elective affinity, and is seen on the Corso +walking, or in the Vatican musing. Always together. They are said to +visit nobody, and to be beheld only at unawares. Theodore Parker removed +to Florence in an extremity of ill-health, and is dead there. I feel +very sorry. There was something high and noble about the man--though he +was not deep in proportion. Hatty Hosmer has arrived in America, and +found her father alive and better, but threatened with another attack +which must be final. Gibson came to us yesterday, and we agreed that we +never found him so interesting. I grieve to hear that Mr. Page's +pictures (another Venus and a Moses) have been rejected at your Academy. + +Robert deserves no reproaches, for he has been writing a good deal this +winter--working at a long poem[88] which I have not seen a line of, and +producing short lyrics which I _have_ seen, and may declare worthy of +him. For me, if I have attained anything of force and freedom by living +near the oak, the better for me. But I hope you don't think that I mimic +[him, or] lose my individuality. [Penini] sends his love with Robert's. +[He ri]des his pony and learns his Latin and looks as pretty as ever--to +my way of [thinking]. If you don't write directly, address to Florence. + +We have another thick Indian letter for you, but Robert is afraid of +sending it till you give us a safe address. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss I. Blagden_ + +[Rome: about May 1860.] + +[_The beginning of this letter is wanting_] + +When the English were raging about Savoy, I heard a word or two from +Pantaleone which convinced me that the Imperial wickedness did not +strike him as the sin against the Holy Ghost precisely. In fact, I doubt +much that he (an intimate friend of Massimo d' Azeglio) knew all about +it before the war. + +By the by, why does Azeglio write against Rome being the capital just +now? It seems to us all very ill-advised. Italy may hereafter select the +capital she pleases, but now her game ought to be to get Rome, as an +indispensable part of the play, as soon as possible. There are great +difficulties in the way--that's very sure. It's quite time, indeed, that +Mrs. Trollope's heart should warm a little towards the Emperor, for no +ruler has risked so much for a nation to which he did not belong (unless +he wished to conquer it) as Napoleon has for this nation. He has been +tortuous in certain respects--in the official presentation of the points +he was resolute on carrying--but from first to last there has been one +steady intention--the liberation of Italy without the confusion of a +general war. Moreover, his eyes are upon Venice, and have been since +Villafranca. What I _see_ in the very suggestion to England about +stopping Garibaldi from attacking the mainland was a preparation to the +English mind towards receiving the consequence of unity, namely, the +seizure of Venice. 'You must be prepared for that. You see where you are +going? You won't cry out when France joins her ally again!' Lord John +didn't see the necessity. No, of course he didn't. He never does see +except what he runs against. He protested to the last (by the Blue Book) +against G.'s attack; he was of opinion, to the last, that Italy would +be better in two kingdoms. But he _wouldn't intervene_. In which he was +perfectly right, of course, only that people should see where their road +goes even when they walk straight. And mark, if France had herself +prevented Garibaldi's landing, Lord John would simply have 'protested.' +_He said so._ France might have done it without the least inconvenience, +therefore, and she _did not_. She confined herself to observing that if +V.E. _might_ have Naples, he _must_ have Venice, and that there could be +no good in objecting to logical necessities of accepted situations. In +spite of which, every sort of weight was hung on the arms of France that +no aid should be given for Venetia. Certain things written to Austria, +and uttered through Lord Cowley, I can't forgive Lord John for; my heart +does not warm, except with rage. To think of writing only the other day +to an Austrian Court: '_All we can do for you_ is to use our strongest +influence with France that she should not help Italy against you in +Venetia. And in our opinion you will always be strong enough to baffle +Italy. Italy can't fight you alone.' The words I am not sure of, but the +idea is a transcript. And the threats uttered through Lord Cowley were +worse--morally hideous, I think. + +Napoleon's position in France is hard enough of itself. Forty thousand +priests, with bishops of the colour of Mon. d'Orleans and company, +having, of course, a certain hold on the agricultural population which +forms so large a part of the basis of the imperial throne. Then add to +that the parties the 'Liberals' (so called) and others, who use this +question as a weapon simply. In the Senate and Legislative Body they +haven't forgotten how to talk, have they--these French? The passion and +confusion seem to have been extreme. After all, we shall get a working +majority, I do hope and trust, for all the intelligent supporters of the +Government are with us, and the Chamber will be dissolved at need. There +is talk of it already in Rome.... + +At last we see your advertisement. _Viva_ 'Agnes Tremorne'![89] We find +it in 'Orley Farm.' How admirably this last opens! We are both delighted +with it. What a pity it is that so powerful and idiomatic a writer +should be so incorrect grammatically and scholastically speaking! Robert +insists on my putting down such phrases as these: 'The Cleeve was +distant from Orley two miles, though it _could not be driven_ under +five.' '_One rises up the hill._' 'As good as _him_.' 'Possessing more +_acquirements_ than he would have _learned_ at Harrow.' _Learning +acquirements!_ Yes, they are faults, and should be put away by a +first-rate writer like Anthony Trollope. It's always worth while to be +correct. But do understand through the pedantry of these remarks that we +are full of admiration for the book. The movement is so excellent and +straightforward--walking like a man, and 'rising up-hill,' and not going +round and round, as Thackeray has taken to do lately. He's clever +always, but he goes round and round till I'm dizzy, for one, and don't +know where I am. I think somebody has tied him up to a post, leaving a +tether. Dearest Isa, the day before yesterday I had two letters from +Madame M---- to ask us to take rooms. He is coming directly to Rome. She +says he has much to tell me, and it's evident, of course, that an +Italian senator, native to the Roman States, wouldn't come here just now +without mission or permission. I am full of expectation, but will say no +more. + +Dearest Isa, have I been long in writing indeed? You see, I let so many +letters accumulate which I hadn't the heart to reply to, that, on taking +up the account, I had over much to do in writing letters. Then I have +been working a little at some Italian lyrics. Three more are gone lately +to the 'Independent,' and another is ready to go. All this, with helping +Pen to prepare for the Abbe, has filled my hands, and they are soon +tired, my Isa, nowadays. When the sun goes down, I am down. At eight I +generally am in bed, or little after. And people will come in +occasionally in the day, and annul me. I had a visit from Lady Annabella +Noel lately, Lord Byron's granddaughter. Very quiet, and very intense, I +should say. She is going away, and I shall not see her more than that +once, I dare say; but she looked at me so with her still deep eyes, and +spoke so feelingly, that I kissed her when she went away. Another new +acquaintance is Lady Marion Alford, the Marquis of Northampton's +daughter, very eager about literature and art and Robert, for all which +reasons I should care for her; also Hatty calls her divine. I thought +there was the least touch of affectation of fussiness, but it may not be +so. She knelt down before Hatty the other day and gave her--placed on +her finger--the most splendid ring you can imagine, a ruby in the form +of a heart, surrounded and crowned with diamonds. Hatty is frankly +delighted, and says so with all sorts of fantastical exaggerations. + +Tell me what you think of the photographs which Robert sends, with his +best love. I think the head perfect, and the other very poetical and +picturesque. I wish I had mine to send Kate, tell her with my dear love, +but I have not one, nor can get one. Perhaps I may have to sit again +before leaving Rome, and then she shall be remembered. And Robert will +give her his. + +Pray don't apologise for your Borden. He is very much to be liked. Mrs. +Bruen is charmed. He has been three times to talk with me, and Robert +has called on him twice. Robert is quite vexed at your 'pretension' +about having friends not good enough for his acquaintance. Yes, really +he was vexed. 'Isa _never_ understood him--not she!' + +Is there not reason, we may murmur? But the truth is he is always ready +(be pleased to know) to honour your drafts in acquaintanceship, and +chooses to be considered ready. + +[_The remainder of this letter is wanting_] + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss E.F. Haworth_ + +Florence: June 16, 1860 [postmark]. + +My dearest Fanny,--I must use my opportunity of sending you these +photographs, because I think you will care to have them. Peni is +_himself_, not a likeness, but an identity. _I_, like a devil, or the +Emperor Napoleon, am not as black as I seem; but Pen looks lovely enough +to satisfy my vanity. + +Your Indian poet's letter was despatched to you from Rome, and 'so +Apollo saved me.' Oh--if you knew how I hate giving opinions! I think a +poet's opinion of another poet should be paid by some triple fee. I, at +least, always feel that after being ingenuous on these occasions and +advising persons who can barely spell against publishing their epic +poems, one is supposed to be secretly influenced by the fear of a rival +or worse. Give me a triple fee. + +Poor dearest Fanny, of course you are in the chain; being in England. +You are moved to set down the Emperor as 'the Beast' 666, of course. If +he crushes 'Garibaldi you must give him up.' Yes; but what an If. If you +stab Miss Heaton with a golden bodkin, right through the heart, under +circumstances of peculiar cruelty, I shall have to give up _you_. If I +bake Penini in a pie and eat him, you'll have to give up me. + +The Emperor Napoleon is faithful and will be faithful to the Italian +cause, and to the cause of the nationalities, as long as and wherever it +is prudent, for the general interest; possible without dangerous +complications. He has risked enough for it, to be trusted a little I +think--his life and dynasty certainly. At this moment I hear from Rome +of a great dinner given by Lamoriciere to his staff, or by his staff to +him (I don't know which), only that the health of _Henri Cinq_ was +suggested and drunk at it. Gorgon telegraphed the news to Paris. What +then? English newspapers (even such papers as the 'Daily News') have +stated that Lamoriciere was doing Napoleonic business at Rome. Perhaps +this is of it. + +Chapman junior is in Florence (doing business upon Lever I believe), and +he maintains that I have done myself no mortal harm by the Congress +poems, which incline to a second edition after all. Had it been +otherwise I yet never should have repented speaking the word out of me +which burnt in me. Printing that book did me real good. For the rest +'Aurora Leigh' is in the press for a _fifth_ edition. Read the 'Word for +Truth by a Seaman,' written by a naval officer of high reputation. + +We left Rome on the 4th of June, and travelled by vettura through +Orvieto and Chiusi. Beautiful scenery, interesting pictures and tombs, +but a fatiguing journey. At least, Pen's pony and I were both of us +unusually fatigued, and scarcely, at the end of a week, am I myself yet. +I am not as strong since my illness last summer. We stay here till the +early part of July and then remove to Siena, to the villa we had last +year; and there Pen keeps tryst with his Abbe and the Latin. He has made +great progress this winter in Latin and much besides, and he isn't going +to be a 'wretched little Papist,' as some of our friends precipitately +conclude from the fact of his having a priest for a tutor. Indeed Pen +has to be restrained into politeness and tolerance towards +ecclesiastical dignities. Think of his addressing his instructor (who +complained of the weather at Rome one morning) thus--in choice Tuscan: +'Of course it's the excommunication. The prophet says that a curse +begins with the curser's own house; and so it is with the Holy Father's +curse.' Wasn't that clever of Pen? and impertinent, but our Abbe only +tried at gravity; he sympathises secretly with the insorgimento d' +Italia, and besides is very fond of Pen. Poor Pen, 'innocent of the +knowledge, dearest chuck,' how his mama has been wickedly cursing her +native country (after Chorley)! It's hard upon me, Fanny, that you +won't tell me of the spirits, you who can see. Here is even Robert, +whose heart softens to the point of letting me have the 'Spiritual +Magazine' from England. Do knock at Mrs. Milner Gibson's doors till you +get to see the 'hands' and the 'heads' and the 'bodies' and the +'celestial garlands' which she has the privilege of being familiar with. +_Touch_ the hands. Has Mr. Monckton Milnes seen anything so as to +believe? Is it true that Lord Lyndhurst was lifted up in a chair? Does +he believe? I hear through Mr. Trollope and Chapman that Edwin Landseer +has received the faith, and did everything possible to persuade Dickens +to investigate, which Dickens refused. Afraid of the truth, of course, +having deeply committed himself to negatives. This is a moral _lachete_, +hard for my feminine mind to conceive of. Dickens, too, who is so fond +of ghost-stories, as long as they are impossible.... + +I can scarcely imagine the summer's passing without a struggle on the +Continent of Italy. It can't be, I think. At least we are prepared for +it here. + +We find Wilson well. Mr. Landor also. He had thrown a dinner out of the +window only once, and a few things of the kind, but he lives in a +chronic state of ingratitude to the whole world except Robert, who waits +for his turn. I am glad to think that poor Mr. Landor is well; +unsympathetical to me as he is in his _morale_. He has the most +beautiful sea-foam of a beard you ever saw, all in a curl and white +bubblement of beauty. He informed us the other morning that he had +'quite given up thinking of a future state--he had _had_ thoughts of it +once, but that was very early in life.' Mr. Kirkup (who is deafer than a +post now) tries in vain to convert him to the spiritual doctrine. Landor +laughs so loud in reply that Kirkup hears him. + +Pray keep Mr. ---- off till we have settled the independence and unity +of Italy. It isn't the hour for peace, and we don't want a second +Villafranca. By the way, I dare say nobody in England lays his face in +the dust and acknowledges, in consequence of the official declaration +of the Prussian Minister (to the effect that Prussia was to attack on +the crossing of the Mincio, and that nothing but the unexpected +conclusion of hostilities hindered the general war)--acknowledges that +Napoleon stands fully justified in making that peace. I cannot expect so +much justice in an Englishman. He would rather bury his past mistake in +a present mistake than simply confess it. + +Now no more. May God bless you! Do be happy, and do write to me. We talk +of Paris and England for next year. + +Your very affectionate +BA. + +Robert's love and Pen's. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +[Florence: about June 1860.] + +I didn't write last time, dearest Sarianna, not only because of being +over-busy or over-tired, but because I had not the heart that day. Peni +had another touch of fever, and was forced to have a doctor and +cataplasms to his feet. It was only a day's anxiety, but I didn't like +writing just then. He had been in the sun or the wind or something. I +was glad to get away from Rome. There were two cases of fever in our +courtyard, and both the sun and the shade were _suspectes_. As far as +Pen is concerned, the evil was averted, and I assure you he is looking +in the full bloom of health, and we have been congratulated on all sides +on his appearance and growth since we returned to Florence. Riding so +much has agreed well with him; and the general results of the Roman +campaign cannot be said to be otherwise than favourable. Set down as +much for Robert. Everybody exclaims at his stoutness. In fact, never +since I have known him has he condescended to put on such an air of +_robustness_, there's no other word for it. Shall we give the glory to +Rome, or to _nux_, to which he is constant. For two years and a half he +has had recourse to no other remedy, and it has not yet failed to +produce its effect. How do you unbelievers account for that? At the same +time, I never would think of using it in any active or inflammatory +malady, and where a sudden revolution or _scosso_ is required from the +remedial agent. + +We find poor Mr. Landor tolerably amenable to Wilson, and well in +health, though he can't live more than three months, he says, and except +when Robert keeps him soothed by quoting his own works to him, considers +himself in a very wretched condition, which is a sort of satisfaction +too. He is a man of great genius, and we owe him every attention on that +ground. Otherwise I confess to you he is to me eminently +unsympathetic.... + +If ---- 'turns Catholic,' as you say, on the ground of the organisation +of certain institutions, it will be a proof of very peculiar ignorance. +This power of organisation is _French_, and not Catholic. You look for +it in vain in Rome, for instance, except where the organisation comes +from France. The _soeurs de charite_, who are of all Catholic nations, +are organised entirely by the French. The institutions here are branch +institutions. In Rome the tendency of everything is to confusion and +'individuality' with separate pockets. Lamoriciere was in despair at it +all, and even now people talk of his resigning, though he gave a dinner +the other day to his staff, with the toast of '_Henri Cinq_.' + +Individuality is an excellent thing in its place, and an infamous thing +out of it. In England we have some very successful efforts at +organisation--the post office, which is nearly perfect, and society, in +which the demarcation between class and class is much too perfect to be +humane. In other respects we are apt to fail. + +We do not fail, however, in organisation only with regard to these +charitable institutions. We are very hard and unsympathetic in them. A +distinguished woman has been here lately--a Miss Cobbe (a fellow-worker +with Miss Carpenter)--who, having overworked herself, was forced by her +physician to come here for three months and rest, under dire penalties. +She went to Isa Blagden's, and returned to England and her work just +now. She is very acute, and so perfectly without Continental prejudices, +that she didn't pretend to much interest even in our Italian movement, +having her heart in England and with the poor. But she was much struck, +not merely with the order of foreign institutions, but with their +superior tenderness and sympathy. The account she gave of the English +workhouses and hospitals was very sad, very cruel, corresponding, in +fact, to what I have heard from other quarters. + +Ah, Sarianna, 'charming old men' who call the Tuscans angels, except +that they lie (what an exception!), can be mistaken like others. _That_ +passes for 'liberality,' does it? We are not angels, and we don't +lie--there's no more lying in Italy than in England, I begin to affirm. +Also, M. Tassinari was in prison, not a week but a month--and well did +he deserve it. We deal now in French coinage, and are to see no more +pauls after the middle of next month. Robert thinks it will destroy the +last vestige of our cheapness, but I am very favorable to a unification +of international coinage. It agrees with my theories, you know. + +We are all talking and dreaming Garibaldi just now in great anxiety. +Scarcely since the world was a world has there been such a feat of arms. +All modern heroes grow pale before him. It was necessary, however, for +us all even here, and at Turin just as in Paris, to be ready to disavow +him. The whole good of Central Italy was hazarded by it. If it had not +been success it would have been an evil beyond failure. The enterprise +was forlorner than a forlorn hope. The hero, if he had perished, would +scarcely have been sure of his epitaph even. + +And 'intervention' _does_ mean quite a different thing at Naples and in +Lombardy. In Lombardy there was the _foreign tyrant_. At Naples +Italians deal with Italians; and the Austrian influence is _indirect_. +So also at Rome. It is this which makes the difficulty of dealing with +Southern Italy and the difference of treatment which you observe in +certain French papers. + +I am sure, though you don't like photographs, you say, that you will +find nothing lacking in what we send you and dearest Nonno of our +Penini. It isn't like him, it's himself. As for me, I murmur, in the +depths of my vanity, that like the Emperor Napoleon (and the devil) I'm +not so black as I'm painted; but I forgive everything for Pen's sake. +Robert is not very favourably represented, I think. The beard on the +upper lip had not been properly clipped, and makes the space seem too +long for him. Another time I will mend that. I was very unusually tired +after my journey, but am getting past it. Weather was hot; but within +two days we have had some cooling rain. + +Give my best love to M. Milsand, beside the photographs, and thank him +for not being offended in his 'patriotism' by my Congress poems. If he +approved of the preface as he says, I can't see how he can have written +anything about 'intervention' which I would not accept. Nothing could +have ended the intervention of Austria, except the intervention of +France; and it was on that account that we feel the latter to be a great +and chivalrous action. Italy is grateful. And if France were in +difficulty she might count on this delivered nation, as on herself. In +spite of all the bad words hurled at me in every English newspaper and +periodical nearly (and I assure you I have been put in the pillory among +them) the poems are going into a second edition, Chapman says, and +'Aurora Leigh' into a fifth. Also Chapman junior, who has come out here +to see after Lever, smoothes me down a little about Robert, and says +that the sale is bettering itself, and that a new edition of the 'Poems' +will soon be wanted. I just now see a pleasant notice of myself in +'Bentley's Magazine.' Abuse of the 'Congress Poems,' of course. Then a +side stroke at 'Aurora Leigh,' which was original, of course, because +it's my way to stand alone and attack people; but the principal merit of +which otherwise was the suggestion of 'Lucille' (Lytton's new +poem)--'Lucille,' says the critic, being superior in holiness and virtue +and that sort of thing to 'Aurora'! Of course. + +They subscribed in England five thousand pounds for Tom Sayers. There's +the advance of civilisation. Napoleon has gone to Baden to arrange the +world a little more comfortably, I hope. + +Mr. Lewes and Miss Evans have been here, and are coming back to settle +into our congenial bosom. I admire her books so much, that certainly I +shall not refuse to receive her, though she is not a medium. Sarianna! + +Your ever affectionate sister. + + * * * * * + + +The programme of the previous year was repeated in 1860. Returning from +Rome to Florence at the beginning of June, the Brownings in July went to +Siena to avoid the extreme heat of the summer at Florence, staying as +before at the Villa Alberti. Their visit to Siena was, however, rather +shorter than the previous one, lasting only till September. + +There is no doubt that Mrs. Browning, during all this time, was losing +ground in point of health; and she now received another severe blow in +the news of the serious illness of her sister Henrietta (Mrs. Surtees +Cook). The anxiety lasted for several months, and ended with the death +of Mrs. Cook in the following winter. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +Villa Alberti, Siena: August 21, [1860]. + +I thank you, my dearest friend, from my heart for your letter, and the +ray of sunshine it brought with it. Do you know I was childish enough +to kiss it as if it knew what it did. I wish I could kiss _you_. Yes, I +have been very unhappy, not giving way on the whole, going about my work +as usual, but with a sense of a black veil between me and whatever I +did, sometimes feeling incapable of crawling down to sit on the cushion +under my own fig-tree for an hour's vision of this beautiful +country--sometimes in 'des transes mortelles' of fear. + +But we must not be atheists, as a friend said to me the other day. I +hope I do not live quite as if I were. But it was a great shock from the +beginning. Henrietta always seemed so strong that I never feared that +way. + +My first impulse was to rush to England, but this has been over-ruled by +everybody, and I believe wisely. With my usual luck I should just have +increased the sum of evil instead of bringing a single advantage to +anyone. The best thing I can do for the others, is to keep quiet and try +not to give cause for trouble on my account, to be patient and live on +God's daily bread from day to day. I had a crumb or two the day before +yesterday through Storm, who thought there might be a little less +pain--and here you have sent me almost a slice--may God be thanked! How +good you were to mention the doctor! It is grievous to me to think of +her suffering. Darling! + +I knew how strong your sympathy and personal feeling would be, and, even +on that account, I had not the heart and courage to write to you. But +no, dearest friends, I did not receive the letter you speak of, though I +heard of your grief a good while afterwards. And so sorry I was--we both +were--so sorry for Fanny, so sorry for you! May God bless you all! How +the spiritual world gets thronged to us with familiar faces, till at +last, perhaps, the world here will seem the vague and strange world, +even while we remain. + +Still, it is beautiful out of this window; and of public affairs in +Italy, I am stirred to think with the most vivid interest through all. +The rapture is not as in the northern war last year, because (you don't +understand that in England) last year we fought the Austrian and now it +is Italian against Italian,[90] which tempers every triumph with a +certain melancholy. Also the Italian question in the south was decided +in the north, and remained only a question of time, abbreviated (many +think rashly) by our hero Garibaldi. For the crisis, so quickened, +involves very serious dangers and most solemn thoughts. The southern +difficulty may be considered solved--so we think--but just now that very +solution opens out, as we all fear a new Austrian invasion in the north, +backed indirectly at least by Prussia and Germany, who will use the +opportunity in carrying out the coalition against France. There seems no +doubt of the mischief hatched at Toeplitz. I wish I had known that +England's influence was not used in drawing together those two powers. +Prussia deserves to be--what shall I say?--docked of her Rhenish +provinces? It would be a too slight punishment. She caused the +Villafranca halt (according to her official confession by the mouth of +Baron Schleinitz, last spring), and now this second time, would she +interrupt the liberation of Italy? The aspect of affairs looks very +grave. As to England, England wishes well to this country at this +present time, but _she will make no sacrifices_ (not even of her +hatreds, least of all, perhaps, of her blind hatreds), for the sake of +ten Italys. Tell dear Mr. Martin that after the speech for the Defences, +I gave up Lord Palmerston for ever. He plays double. He is too shrewd to +believe in the probability of invasions, &c., &c., but he wants a shield +to guard his sword-arm. The statesmanship of England pines for new +blood, for ideas of the epoch, and the Russell old-fogyism will not do +any more at all. These old bottles won't hold the new wine. People are +positively calling on the Muse and William Pitt. It's religion to hate +France, and to set up a 'Boney' as a 'raw head and bloody bones' sort of +scarecrow. But it won't do. As the Revolutionists say, 'E troppo tardi.' + +I am not, however, in furies all day, dearest Mrs. Martin. (I answer +satisfactorily your question whether I am 'ever calm.') The newspapers +from various parts of Italy thunder down on us here, not to speak of +'Galignanis' and 'Saturday Reviews.' See how calm-blooded I must be to +bear the 'Saturday Review.' (I consider it a curiosity in vice, +certainly.) Then we have books from the subscription library in +Florence, and sights of the 'Cornhill,' and political pamphlets by the +book-post; nay, even the 'Spiritual Magazine,' sent by Chapman and Hall, +in the last number of which that clever and brave William Howitt (who, +like a man, is foolish sometimes) suggests gravely in an article that I +have lately been 'biologised by infernal spirits,' in order to the +production of certain bad works in the service of 'Moloch,' meaning, of +course, L.N. Oh! and did anyone tell you how Harriet Martineau, in her +political letters to America, set me down with her air of serene +superiority? But such things never chafe me--never. They don't even +quicken my pulsation. And the place we are passing the summer in is very +calm--a great lonely villa, in the midst of purple hills and vineyards, +olive-trees and fig-trees like forest-trees; a deep soothing silence. A +mile off we have friends, and my dear friend Miss Blagden is in a villa +half a mile off. This for the summer. Also, we brought with us from +Florence and dropped in a villino not far, our friend Mr. Landor (Walter +Savage), who is under Robert's guardianship, having quarrelled with +everybody in and out of England. I call him our adopted son. (You did +not know I had a son of eighty-six and more.) Wilson lives with him, and +Robert receives from his family in England means for his support. But +really the office is hard, and I tell Robert that he must be prepared +for the consequences: an outbreak and a printed statement that he +(Robert), instigated by his wicked wife, had attempted to poison him +(Landor) slowly. Such an extraordinary union of great literary gifts and +incapacity of will has seldom surprised the world. Of course he does not +live with us, you know, either here or in Florence, but my husband +manages every detail of his life, and both the responsibility and +trouble are considerable. Still he is a great writer. We owe him some +gratitude therefore. + +Penini has his pony here, and rides with his father. We have had the +coolest summer I ever remember in Italy. I _could_ have been very happy. +But God, who 'tempers the wind,' finds it necessary for the welfare of +some of us to temper the sunshine also.... + +As the very poorest proof of gratitude for your letter, Robert suggests +that I should enclose this photograph of Penini and myself taken at Rome +this last spring. You will like to have them, we fancy, but it is +Robert's gift. I was half inclined last year to send you a photograph +from Field Talfourd's picture of me,[91] but I shrank back, knowing that +dear Mr. Martin would cry out at the flattery of it, which he well might +do. But this photograph from nature can't be flattered, so I hazard it. +You see the locks are dark still, not white, and the sun, in spite, has +blackened the face to complete the harmony. Pen is very like, and very +sweet we think. + +Do, when you write, speak of yourself--yourselves. I hope you like the +'Mill on the Floss.' + +Our love to dearest Mr. Martin and you. + +Let me be as ever, + +Your affectionate and grateful +BA. + + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss E.F. Haworth_ + +Villa Alberti, Siena, Sardegna: August 25, [1860]. + +My dearest Fanny,--I received your letter with thanks upon thanks. It +seemed long since I heard or wrote. I have been very sad, very--with a +stone hung round my heart, and a black veil between me and all that I +do, think, or look at. One of my sisters is very ill in England--my +married sister--an internal tumour, accompanied with considerable +suffering, and doubtful enough as to its issue to keep us all (I can +answer at least for myself) in great misery. Robert says I exaggerate, +and I think and know that consciously or unconsciously he wants to save +me pain. She went to London, and the medical man called it an anxious +case. We all know what that must mean. For a little time I was in an +anguish of fear, and though come to believe now that no great change any +way is to be expected quickly, you would pity what I feel when the +letters are at hand. May God have mercy on us all! I wanted at first to +get to England, but everyone here and there was against it, and I +suppose it would have been a pure selfishness on my part to persist in +going, seeing that the fatigue and the cold in England alone would have +broken me up to a faggot (though of not so much use as to burn) so that +I should have complicated other people's difficulties, without much +mending my own. Still it would have been comfort to me (however selfish) +to have just held her hand. But no. Oh, I am resigned to its being +wiser. I am shaken, even at this distance. She has three children +younger than my Peni. Don't let me talk of it any more. + +You see, Fanny, my 'destiny' has always been to be entirely useless to +the people I should like to help (except to my little Pen sometimes in +pushing him through his lessons, and even so the help seems doubtful, +scholastically speaking, to Robert!) and to have only power at the end +of my pen, and for the help of people I don't care for. At moments +lately, thanks from a stranger for this or that have sounded ghastly to +me who can't go to smooth a pillow for my own darling sister. Now, I +_won't_ talk of it any more. After all I try to be patient and wait +quietly, and there ought to be hope and faith meantime. + +The pen-utilities themselves don't pass uncontested, as you observe. +Yes, I see the 'Spiritual Magazine,' and remarked how I was scourged in +the house of my friends. Robert shouted in triumph at it, and hoped I +was pleased, and as for myself, it really did make me smile a little, +which was an advantage, in the sad humour I was in at the time. +'Biologised by infernal spirits since "_Casa Guidi Windows_"' yet 'Casa +Guidi Windows' was not wholly vicious it seems to me, nor 'Aurora' +utterly corrupt. And Mr. Howitt is both a clever man, and an honest and +brave man, for all his sweeping opinions. Biologised and be-Harrised +_he_ is certainly. What an extraordinary admiration! I wonder at _that_ +more than at any of the external spiritual phenomena. Dearest Fanny, you +were very, very good and generous to take my part with the editor--but +_laissez faire_. These things do one no harm--and, for me, they don't +even vex me. I had an anonymous letter from England the other day, from +somebody who recognised me, he said, in some prodigious way as a great +Age-teacher, all but divine, I believe, and now gave me up on account of +certain atrocities--first, for the poem 'Pan'[92] in the 'Cornhill' +(considered _immoral_!) and then for having had my 'brain so turned by +the private attentions and flatteries of the Emperor Napoleon when I was +in Paris, that I have devoted myself since to help him in the +gratification of his selfish ambitions.' Conceive of this, written with +an air of conviction, and on the best information. Now, of the two +imputations, I much prefer 'the inspiration from hell.' There's +something grandiose about that, to say nothing of the superior honesty +of the position. + +What a 'mountainous me' I am 'piling up' in this letter, I who want +rather to write of _you_.... + +Italy ought not to draw you just now, Fanny. We are all looking for war, +and wondering where the safety is. A Piccolomini said yesterday that it +was as safe at Rome as in Florence, which only proved Florence unsafe. +Austria may come down on Central Italy any day; and sooner or later +there must be war. The Storys are alarmed enough to avoid going back to +Rome until the end of November, when things may be a little arranged. +The indignation here is great against 'questa canaglia di Germania.' +Toeplitz means mischief both against France and Italy--that is plain. +The Prince of Prussia gave his 'parole de gentilhomme' meaning the word +of a rascal. My poor Venice! But you will see presently, only the fear +is that our fire here may flash very far. In any case, it would not be +desirable for Englishmen to come southwards this year. Our plans for the +winter depend entirely on circumstances. If we can go to Rome in any +reasonable security, I suppose we shall go. But I have no heart for +plans just now. + +Dear Isa Blagden is spending the summer in a rough _cabin_, a quarter of +an hour's walk from here, and Mr. Landor is hard by in the lane. This +(with the Storys a mile off) makes a sort of colonisation of the country +here. Otherwise it's a solitude, 'very _triste_,' say the English, not +even an English church, even in the city of Siena. We get books from +Florence, and newspapers from everywhere, or one couldn't get on quite +well. As it is I like it very much. I like the quiet! the lying at +length on a sofa, in an absolute silence, nobody speaking for hours +together (Robert rides a great deal), not a chance of morning visitors, +no voices under the windows. The repose would help me much, if it were +not that circumstances of pain and fear walk in upon me through windows +and doors, using one's own thoughts, till they tremble. Pen has had an +abbe to teach him Latin, and his pony to ride on, and he and Robert are +very well and strong, thank God. + +Thank you for your words on spiritualism. I have not _yet_ seen the last +'Cornhill.' It pleases me that Thackeray has had the courage to maintain +the facts before the public; I think _much the better of him_ for doing +so. Owen's book I shall try to get. There is a weak reference to the +subject in the 'Saturday Review' (against it), and I see an article +advertised in 'Once a Week,' all proving that the public is awaking to a +consideration of the class of phenomena. _Investigation_ is all I +desire. The 'Spiritual Magazine' lingers so this month that I fear, and +Robert hopes, something may have happened to it. + + * * * * * + + +On returning to Rome for the winter, which they did about September, the +Brownings found quarters at 126 Via Felice. The following letter was +written shortly after the death of Mrs. Browning's sister. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss E.F. Haworth_ + +[Rome: autumn 1860.] + +In one word, my dearest Fanny, I will thank you for what is said and not +said, for sympathy true and tender each way. It is a great privilege to +be able to talk and cry; but _I cannot_, you know. I have suffered very +much, and feel tired and beaten. Now, it's all being lived down; thrown +behind or pushed before, as such things must be if we _are_ to live: not +forgetting, not feeling any tie slackened, loving unchangeably, and +believing how mere a _line_ this is to overstep between the living and +the dead. + +Do you know, the first thing from without which did me the least good +was a letter from America, from dear Mrs. Stowe. Since we parted here in +the spring, neither of us had written, and she had not the least idea of +my being unhappy for any reason. In fact, her thought was to +congratulate me on public affairs (knowing how keenly I felt about +them), but her letter dwelt at length upon spiritualism. She had heard, +she said, for the fifth time from her boy (the one who was drowned in +that awful manner through carrying out a college jest) without any +seeking on her part. She gave me a minute account of a late +manifestation, not seeming to have a doubt in respect to the verity and +identity of the spirit. In fact, secret things were told, reference to +private papers made, the evidence was considered most satisfying. And +she says that all of the communications descriptive of the _state_ of +that Spirit, though coming from very different mediums (some high +Calvinists and others low infidels) tallied exactly. She spoke very +calmly about it, with no dogmatism, but with the strongest disposition +to receive the facts of the subject with all their bearings, and at +whatever loss of orthodoxy or sacrifice of reputation for common sense. +I have a high appreciation of her power of forming opinions, let me add +to this. It is one of the most vital and growing minds I ever knew. +Besides the inventive, the critical and analytical faculties are strong +with her. How many women do you know who are _religious_, and yet +analyse point by point what they believe in? She lives in the midst of +the traditional churches, and is full of reverence by nature; and yet if +you knew how fearlessly that woman has torn up the old cerements and +taken note of what is a dead letter within, yet preserved her faith in +essential spiritual truth, you would feel more admiration for her than +even for writing 'Uncle Tom.' There are quantities of irreverent women +and men who profess infidelity. But this is a woman of another order, +observe, devout yet brave in the outlook for truth, and considering, not +whether a thing be _sound_, but whether it be true. Her views are +Swedenborgian on some points, beyond him where he departs from orthodoxy +on one or two points, adhering to the orthodox creed on certain others. +She used to come to me last winter and open out to me very freely, and I +was much interested in the character of her intellect. Dr. Manning +tried his converting power on her. 'It might have answered,' she said, +'if one side of her mind had not confuted what the other side was +receptive of.' In fact, she caught at all the beauty and truth and good +of the Roman Catholic symbolism, saw what was better in it than +Protestantism, and also, just as clearly, what was worse. She admired +Manning immensely, and was very keen and quick in all her admirations; +had no national any more than ecclesiastical prejudices; didn't take up +Anglo-Saxon outcries of superiority in morals and the rest, which makes +me so sick from American and English mouths. By the way (I must tell +Sarianna _that_ for M. Milsand!) a clever Englishwoman (married to a +Frenchman) told Robert the other day that she believed in 'a special +hell for the Anglo-Saxon race on account of its hypocrisy.'... + +Meanwhile you will care for Roman news, and I have not much to tell you. +I am very much in my corner, and very quiet. Robert, who has been most +dear and tender and considerate to me through my trial, kept all the +people off, and even now, when the door is open a little, gloomy +lionesses with wounded paws don't draw the public, I thank God, and I am +not much teased, if at all. Sir John Bowring came with a letter of +introduction, and intimate relations with Napoleon to talk of, and he +has confirmed certain views of mine which I was glad to hear confirmed +by a disciple of Bentham and true liberal of distinguished intelligence. +He said that nothing could be more ludicrous and fanatical than the +volunteer movement in England rising out of the most incredible panic +which ever arose without a reason. I only hope that if the volunteers +ever have to act indeed, they may behave better than at Naples, where +they left the worst impression of English morals and discipline. They +embarked to return home dead drunk all of them, and the drunkenness was +not the worst. Sir John Bowring has been ill since he came, so perhaps +he may go before I see him again. Then Madame Swab [Schwabe], whom I +slightly knew in Paris, has been with me to-day, talking on Italian +affairs. There is room for anxiety about the Neapolitans; but don't +believe in exaggerations: we shall do better than our enemies desire. +There will be war probably.... + +Robert has taken to modelling under Mr. Story (at his studio) and is +making extraordinary progress, turning to account his studies on +anatomy. He has copied already two busts, the Young Augustus and the +Psyche, and is engaged on another, enchanted with his new trade, working +six hours a day. In the evening he generally goes out as a +bachelor--free from responsibility of crinoline--while I go early to +bed, too happy to have him a little amused. In Florence he never goes +anywhere, you know; even here this winter he has had too much gloom +about him by far. But he looks entirely well--as does Penini. I am weak +and languid. I struggle hard to live on. I wish to live just as long as +and no longer than to grow in the soul. + +May God bless you, dearest Fanny. Write. + +America is making me very anxious just know. If they compromise in the +north it is a moral death, but a merely physical dissolution of the +States would be followed by a resurrection 'in honor,' and I should not +fear. What are you painting? + +Your affectionate as ever +BA. + +Did you see Lacordaire received? Those are things I care to see in +Paris, wishing, however, to Guizot, the king of Prussia, and all prigs, +the contempt they deserve. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss I. Blagden_ + +126 Via Felice, [Rome]: +Monday, [November December 1860]. + +Ever dearest Isa,--How you grieve me by this news of your being unwell. +Dear, I wondered at having no letter, and now with the letter and all +the proofs of your remembering me (newspaper and pens) comes the bad +word of your being ill.... + +I myself am not very well. I thought I was going to have a bad attack of +the oppression, but this morning it seems to have almost gone, and +without a blister! I had one night very bad. Probably a sudden call from +the tramontana brought it; even frost we had. Only, on the whole, and +considering accounts from other places, Rome has distinguished itself +for mildness this year; and I hope I shall keep from bad attacks, having +not much strength in body, nerve, or spirit to bear up resistingly +against them.... + +Sir John Bowring has been to see us. Yes, he speaks with great authority +and conviction, and it carries the more emphasis because he is not +without Antigallican prejudice, I observed. He told me that the panic in +England about invasion had reached, at one time, a point of phrenzy +which would be scarcely credible to anyone who had not witnessed it. +People were in terrors, expecting their houses to be burnt and sacked +directly. Placards of the most inflammatory character, calling +passionately on the riflemen to arm, arm, arm! He himself was hissed at +Edinburgh for venturing to say that the rifle-locks would be very rusty +if only used against invading Napoleons. + +He told me that the Emperor's intentions towards Italy had been +undeviatingly ignored, and that whatever had seemed equivocal had been +misunderstood, or was the consequence of misunderstanding, or of the +press of some otherwise great difficulty. The Italian question was only +beginning to be understood in England. I said (in my sarcastic way) that +at first they had seemed to understand it upside down. To which he +replied that when, at the opening of the Revolution, he came over with +several English officers from India, they were _all prepared_ (in case +England didn't fight on the Hapsburg side) to enter the Austrian army as +volunteers to help them to keep down Italy. + +But men like Mr. Trollope find it easy to ignore all this. It is we who +have done the most for Italy--we who did nothing! Yes, I admit so far. +We abstained from helping the Austrians with an open force. + +That now we wish well to the Italian cause is true, I hope, but, at +best, it is a noble inconsistency; and that we should set up a claim to +a nation's gratitude on these grounds seems to me worse than absurd. The +more we are in earnest now, the more ashamed we should be for what has +been. + +I have been sorry about Gaeta;[93] but there is somewhere a cause, and, +perhaps, not hard to find. That the Emperor is ready to do for Italy +_whatever will not sacrifice France_, I am convinced more than ever. And +even the Romans (who have benefited least) think so. One of the patriots +here, a watchmaker, was saying to Ferdinando the other day that he had +subscribed to Garibaldi's fund, and had given his name for Viterbo,[94] +but that there was one man in whom he believed most, and never ceased to +believe--Louis Napoleon. And this is the common feeling. Mr. Trollope +said that they only ventured to unbosom themselves to the English. Now +my belief is that the Italians seldom do this to the English, as far as +Napoleon is concerned. The Italians are _furbi assai_, and wish to +conciliate us, and are perfectly aware of our national jealousies. I +myself have observed the difference in an Italian when speaking to my +own husband before me and speaking to me alone. + +Since we came here I have had a letter from Ruskin, written in a very +desponding state about his work, and life, and the world.... + +Life goes on heavily with me, but it goes on: it has rolled into the +ruts again and goes.... + +Write to me, my Isa, and love me. + +I am your ever loving BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss I. Blagden_ + +[Rome: November-December 1860.] + + ... Now while I remember it let me tell you what I quite forgot +yesterday. If through Kate's dealing with American papers you get to +hear of a lyric of mine called 'De Profundis,'[95] you are to understand +that it was written by me nearly twenty years ago, _before I knew +Robert_; you will observe it is in my 'early manner,' as they say of +painters. It is a personal poem, of course, but was written even so, in +comparatively a state of retrospect, catching a grief in the rebound a +little. (You know I never _can_ speak or cry, so it isn't likely I +should write verses.) The poem (written, however, when I was very low) +lay unprinted all those years, till it turned up at Florence just when +poor Mrs. Howard's bereavement and Mr. Beecher's funeral sermon in the +'Independent' suggested the thought of it--on which, by an impulse, I +enclosed it to the editor, who wanted more verses from me. Now you see +it comes out just when people will suppose the motive to be an actual +occasion connected with myself. Don't let anyone think so, dear Isa. In +the first place, there would be great _exaggeration_; and in the +second, it's not my way to grind up my green griefs to make bread of. +But that poem exaggerates nothing--represents a condition from which the +writer had already partly emerged, after the greatest suffering; the +only time in which I have known what absolute _despair_ is. + +Don't notice this when you write. + +Write. Take the love of us three. Yes, I love you, dearest Isa, and +shall for ever. + +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +126 Via Felice, Rome: +Friday, [about December 1860]. + +I have not had courage to write, my dearest friend, but you will not +have been severe on me. I have suffered very much--from suspense as well +as from certainty. If I could open my heart to you it would please me +that your sympathy should see all; but I can't write, and I couldn't +speak of that. It is well for those who in their griefs _can_ speak and +write. I never could. + +But to you after all it is not needful. You understand and have +understood. + +My husband has been very good to me, and saved me all he could, so that +I have had solitude and quiet, and time to get into the ruts of the +world again where one has to wheel on till the road ends. In this +respect it has been an advantage being at Rome rather than Florence. Now +I can read, and have seen a few faces. One must live; and the only way +is to look away from oneself into the larger and higher circle of life +in which the merely personal grief or joy forgets itself. + +For the rest even I ought to have comfort, I know. I believe that love +in its most human relations is an eternal thing. I do believe it, only +through inconsistency and much weakness I falter. + +Also there are other beliefs with me with regard to the spiritual world +and the measuring of death, which ought, if I had ordinary logic, to +rescue me from what people in general suffer in circumstances like +these. Only I am weak and foolish; and when the tender past came back to +me day by day, I have dropped down before it as one inconsolable. + +Dearest Mr. Martin--give him my grateful love for every kind thought, +and to yourself. + +Now that page is turned. + +I wish I knew that you were stronger, and at Pau. It is unfortunate that +just on this bitter winter you have been unable to get away from +England. + +Here, though there was snow once, we have fared mildly as to climate. +And our rooms are very warm. Penini has his pony and rides, and studies +with his Abbe, and looks very rosy and well. I help him to prepare his +lessons, but that is all, except hearing him read a little German now +and then, and Robert sees to the music, and the getting up of the +arithmetic. For the first time I have had pain in looking into his face +lately--which you will understand. + +I saw a man from Naples two days since, an Englishman of intelligence +and impartiality, who has resided there for months in the heart of the +politics. He told me that the exaggeration of evils was great. Evils +there were certainly; and no government succeeding Garibaldi's could +have satisfied a public trained to expect the impossible. Our poor +Garibaldi, hero as he is, and an honest hero, is in truth the weakest +and most malleable of men, and had become at last the mere mouthpiece of +the Mazzinians. If the Bourbons' fall had not been a little delayed, +north and south Italy would have broken in two. So I was assured by my +friend, who gave reasons and showed facts. + +That the Neapolitans are not equal to the other Italians is too plain; +and if corrupt governments did not corrupt the government they would be +less hateful to all of us, of course. But a little time will give +smoothness to the affairs of Italy, and none of my old hopes are in the +meanwhile disturbed. + +The design as to Rome seems to be to starve out the Pope by the +financial question; to let the rotten fruit fall at last as much by its +own fault as possible, and by the gentlest shake of the tree. I hear of +those who doubted most in the Emperor's designs beginning to confess +that he can't mean ill by Italy. + +Possibly you and dear Mr. Martin think more just now of America than of +this country, which I can understand. The crisis has come earlier than +anyone expected. It is a crisis; and if the north accepts such a +compromise as has been proposed the nation perishes morally, which would +be sadder than the mere dissolution of States, however sad. It is the +difference between the death of the soul and of the body. + +There might and ought to be a pecuniary compromise; but a compromise of +principle would be fatal. + +I am anxious that before we go too far with the Minghetti project here +(separate administration of provinces) we should learn from America that +a certain degree of centralisation (not carried out too far) is +necessary to a strong and vital government. And Italy will want a strong +government for some years to come. There is much talk of war in the +spring, and if Austria will not cede Venetia war must be, even if she +should satisfy her other provinces, which she will probably fail to do. + +This is a dull lecture, but you will pardon it and me. + +I know all your goodness and sympathy. Do not think that _I_ think that +_any bond is broken_, or that anything is lost. We have been fed on the +hillside, and now there are twelve baskets full of fragments remaining. + +May God bless you and love you both! + +Your ever affectionate and grateful +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss I. Blagden_ + +126 Via Felice, Rome: Tuesday, [January 1861]. + +Ever dearest Isa,--I wrote a long letter, which you have received, I do +hope, and am waiting for a long one from you to tell me that you are not +suffering any more. This is on business merely--that is, it is merely to +give you trouble, the customary way for me to do business in these +latter days. Will you, dear, without putting yourself to too much +inconvenience by overhaste, direct the 'Nazione' people to send the +journal, to which we must subscribe for three months, to _S.E. le +General Comte de Noue, Comandante della piazza di Roma. No other name._ +The General, who can do what he pleases, pleases to receive our paper +(our kind Abbe mediating) on condition that we do not talk of it, and so +at last I shall attain to getting out of this dark into the free upper +air. It is insufferable to be instructed by the 'Giornale di Roma' as to +how Cialdini writes to Turin that his Piedmontese are perfectly +demoralised, and that the besieged dance for triumph each time an +Italian cannon is fired into the vague. On the other hand, I hear +regularly every morning from the Romans that Gaeta is taken,[96] with +the most minute particulars, which altogether is exasperating. The last +rumour is of typhus fever in the fortress, but I have grown sceptical, +and believe nothing on either side now. One thing is clear, that it +wasn't only the French fleet which prevented our triumph.... + +Robert came home this morning between three and four. A great ball at +Mrs. Hooker's--magnificent, he says. All the princes in Rome (and even +cardinals) present. The rooms are splendid, and the preparations were in +the best taste. The Princess Ruspoli (a Buonaparte) appeared in the +tricolor. She is most beautiful, Robert says. + +So you see our Americans can dance even while the Republic goes to +pieces. I think I would not do it. Not that I despair of America--God +forbid! If the North will be faithful to its conscience there will be +only an increase of greatness after a few years, even though it may rain +blood betwixt then and now. Mr. Story takes it all very quietly. He +would be content to let the South go, and accept the isolation of the +North as final. 'We should do better without the South,' said he. I +don't agree in this. I think that the unity of the State should be +asserted with a strong hand, and the South forced to pay taxes and +submit to law. + +Mdme. Swab [Schwabe] told me that a friend of hers had travelled with +Klapka from Constantinople, and that K. had said, 'there would not be +war till next year,--diplomacy would take its course for the present +year.' Perhaps he did not speak sincerely. I can't understand how the +Austrian provinces will hold out in mere talk for twelve months more. Do +you mark the tone of the 'Opinion Nationale' on Austria, and about +Hungary being a natural ally of France, and also what is said in the +'Morning Chronicle,' which always more or less reflects the face of the +French Government? Then it seems to me that the Emperor's speech is not +eminently pacific, though he 'desires peace.' I hear from rather good +authority what I hope is possible, that Teliki accepted as a condition +of his liberation, not simply that he would not personally act against +Austria, but that he would use his endeavours to prevent any action on +the part of his compatriots. Men are base. + +Mr. Prinsep[97] is here. Last autumn he made a walking tour into +Cornwall with Alfred Tennyson, to tread in the steps of King Arthur. +Tennyson was dreadfully afraid of being recognised and mobbed, and +desired to be called 'the other gentleman,' which straightway became +convertible now and then into 'the old gentleman,' much to his +vexation. But Mr. Prinsep is in the roses and lilies of youth, and +comparatively speaking, of course, the great Laureate was an ancient. He +is in considerable trouble, too by their building a fort in front of his +house on the southern coast of the Isle of Wight. I couldn't help saying +that he deserved it for having written 'Riflemen, arm!' It's a piece of +pure poetical justice, really. + +Here I end. + +Write to me, my Isa, and do me good with your tender, warm thoughts. Do +you think I have no comfort in feeling them stroke me softly through the +dark and distance? + +May God love you, dearest Isa! + +Always your loving +BA. + +Robert's true love, and Pen's. + +The weather is wonderfully warm. In fact, the winter has been very +mild--milder than usual for even Rome. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss E.F. Haworth_ + +126 Via Felice, Rome: +Tuesday, [about January 1861]. + +You really astonish me, dearest Fanny, so much by your letter, that I +must reply to it at once. I ask myself under what new influence +(strictly clerical) is she now, that she should write so? And has she +forgotten me, never read 'Aurora Leigh,' never heard of me or from me +that, before 'Spiritualism' came up in America, I have been called +orthodox by infidels, and heterodox by church-people; and gone on +predicting to such persons as came near enough to me in speculative +liberty of opinion to justify my speaking, that the present churches +were in course of dissolution, and would have to be followed by a +reconstruction of Christian essential verity into other than these +middle-age scholastic forms. Believing in Christ's divinity, which is +the life of Christianity, I believed this. Otherwise, if the end were +here--if we were to be covered over and tucked in with the Thirty-nine +Articles or the like, and good-night to us for a sound sleep in 'sound +doctrine'--I should fear for a revealed religion incapable of expansion +according to the needs of man. What comes from God has life in it, and +certainly from all the growth of living things, spiritual growth cannot +be excepted. But I shun religious controversy--it is useless. I never +'disturb anybody's mind,' as it is called--let those sleep who can. If I +had not known that _your_ mind was broken up rather broadly by truths +out of Swedenborg, I should not have mooted the subject, be sure. (Have +you given up Swedenborg? this by the way.) Having done so, I am anxious +to set you right about Mrs. Stowe. As the author of the most successful +book printed by man or woman, perhaps I a little under-rated her. The +book has genius, but did not strike _me_ as it did some other readers. +Her 'Sunny Memories,' I liked very little. When she came to us in +Florence some years ago, I did not think I should like her, nor did +Robert, but we were both of us surprised and charmed with her simplicity +and earnestness. At Rome last year she brought her inner nature more in +contact with mine, and I, who had looked for what one usually finds in +women, was startled into much admiration and sympathy by finding in her +a largeness and fearlessness of thought which, coming out of a clerical +and puritan _cul-de-sac_, and combined with the most devout and reverent +emotions, really is fine. So you think that since 'Uncle Tom' she has +turned infidel, because of her interest in Spiritualism. Her last words +to me when we parted, were, 'Those who love the Lord Jesus Christ never +see one another for the last time.' That's the attitude of the mind +which you stigmatise as corrupting. + +With regard to 'Spiritualism,' so called, you might as well say +'_books_' are dangerous, without specifying the books. Surely you _know_ +that every sort of doctrine is enjoined by these means, from Church of +Englandism to Free Love. A lady was with me this very morning, who was +converted from infidelity to Christianity solely by these means, and I +am told that thousands declare the same. As far as I am concerned, I +never heard or read a single communication which impressed me in the +least: what does impress me is the probability of there being +communications at all. I look at the movement. What _are_ these +intelligences, separated yet relating and communicating? What is their +state? what their aspiration? have we had part or shall we have part +with them? is this the corollary of man's life on the earth? or are they +unconscious echoes of his embodied soul? That anyone should admit a fact +(such as a man being lifted into the air, for instance), and not be +interested in it, is so foreign to the habits of my mind (which can't +insulate a fact from an inference, and rest there) that I have not a +word to say. Only I _see_ that if this class of facts, however +grotesque, be recognised among thinkers, our reigning philosophy will +modify itself; scientific men will conceive differently from Humboldt +(for instance) of the mystery of life; the materialism which stifles the +higher instincts of men will be dislodged, and the rationalism which +divides Oxford with Romanism (_nothing between_, we hear!) will receive +a blow. + +_No truth can be dangerous._ What if Jesus Christ be taken for a medium, +do you say? Well, what then? As perfect man, He possessed, I conclude, +the full complement of a man's faculties. But if He walked on the sea as +a medium, if the virtue went out of Him as a mesmeriser, He also spoke +the words which never man spoke, was born for us, and died for us, and +rose from the dead as the Lord God our Saviour. But the whole theory of +spiritualism, all the phenomena, are strikingly _confirmatory_ of +revelation; nothing strikes me more than that. Hume's argument against +miracles (a strong argument) disappears before it, and Strauss's +conclusions from _a priori_ assertion of impossibility fall in pieces at +once. + +Now I have done with this subject. Upon the whole, it seems to me better +really that you should not mix yourself up with it any more. Also I wish +you joy of the dismissal of M. Pierart. There was no harm that he took +away your headache, if he did not presume on that. You tell me not to +bid you to beware of counting on us in Paris. And yet, dearest Fanny, I +must. The future in this shifting world, what is it? As for me, whom you +recognise as 'so much myself,' dear, I have a stout pen, and till its +last blot, it will write, perhaps, with its 'usual insolence' (as a +friend once said), but if you laid your hand on this heart, you would +feel how it stops, and staggers, and fails. I have not been out yet, and +am languid in spirits, I gather myself up by fits and starts, and then +fall back. Do you know, I think with positive terror sometimes, less of +the journey than of having to speak and look at people. If it were +possible to persuade Robert, I should send him with Pen; but he wouldn't +go alone, and he must go this year. Oh, I daresay I shall feel more up +to the friction of things when once I have been out; it's stupid to give +way. Also my sister Arabel talks of meeting me in France, though I might +have managed that difficulty, but that Robert should see his father is +absolutely necessary. Meanwhile we don't talk of it, and by May or June +I shall be feeling another woman probably.... + +So you are going to work hard in Germany: that is well. Only beware of +the English periodicals. There's a rage for new periodicals, and because +the 'Cornhill' answers, other speculations crowd the market, overcrowd +it: there will be failures presently. + +I have written a long letter when I meant to write a short one. May God +keep you, and love you, and make you happy! Your ever affectionate + +BA. + +I am anxious about America, fearing a compromise in the North. All other +dangers are comparatively null. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss E.F. Haworth_ + +126 Via Felice, Rome: +Saturday, [about January 1861]. + +Ah, dearest Fanny, I can't rest without telling you that I am sorry at +your receiving such an impression from my letter. May God save me from +such a sin as arrogance! I have not generally a temptation to it, +through knowing too well what I am myself. At the same time, I do not +dispute my belief in what you have so often confessed, that you don't +hold your attainments and opinions sufficiently 'irrespectively of +persons.' Believing which of you, I said, 'under what new influence?' +and if I said anything with too much vivacity, forgive me with that +sweetness of nature which is at least as characteristic of you as the +intellectual impressionability. Really I would not wound you for the +world--but I myself perhaps may have been over-excitable, irritable just +then, who knows? and, in fact, I _was_ considerably vexed at the moment +that, from anything said by me, you would infer what was so injurious +and unjust to a woman like Mrs. Stowe. I named her in this relation +because she struck me as a remarkable example of the compatibility of +freedom of thought with reverence of sentiment. You generally get one or +the other; the one excluding the other. I never considered her a deep +thinker, but singularly large and unshackled, considering the +associations of her life, she certainly is. When I hinted at her +stepping beyond Swedenborg in certain of her ideas, I referred to her +belief that the process called 'regeneration,' may _commence_ in certain +cases beyond the grave, and in her leaning to universal salvation views, +which you don't get at through Swedenborg. + +For the rest, I don't think, if you will allow of my saying so, that you +apprehend Swedenborg's meaning very accurately always. If Swedenborg saw +sin and danger in certain communications, for instance, why did he +consider it privilege on his own part to live in the world of spirits as +he did. True, he spoke of 'danger,' but it was to those who, themselves +weak and unclean, did not hold 'by the Lord.' He distinctly said that in +the first unfallen churches there was incessant communion, and that the +'new church, as it grew, would approximate more and more to that earlier +condition. There is a distinct prospect given in Swedenborg of an +increasing aptitude in the bodies and souls of men towards communication +with the Disembodied. I consider that he foresaw not only what we are +seeing (if these manifestations be veritable) but greater and more +frequent phenomena of the same class,--which does not in any way exclude +considerable danger to some persons in the meanwhile. And do you think I +doubt _that_? No indeed. Unsettled minds, especially when under +affliction, will lose their balance at moments,--there is danger. It is +not the occasion for passion and fanaticism of sentiment, but for calm +and reasonable inquiry into facts. Let us establish the facts first, and +then '_try the spirits_' as the apostle directs; afterwards remains the +difficulty of assuring oneself of the personalities. I don't think you +should complain of the subject being unsatisfactory to you, because you +don't get 'a sublime communication,' or a characteristic evidence of +some spirit known to you. Much less would satisfy _me_. But it seemed to +me that the consideration of the subject disturbed you, made you +uncomfortable, and that you didn't approach any conclusion, and with +that impression and not because of 'contempt,' be sure, I advised you to +let it rest. Why should we beat our heads against an obstacle which we +can't walk through? Then your liability to influence is against you here +as much as your attraction towards such high speculations is in your +favour. You have an 'open mind,' yes, but you leave all the doors open, +and you let people come in every now and then, and lock them, and keep +them locked as long as said people stand by. The teachings of +Spiritualism are much like the teachings in the world. There are +excellent things taught, and iniquitous things taught. Only the sublime +communications are, as far as I know, decidedly absent. Swedenborg +directs you to give no more weight to what is said by a spirit-man than +by a man in the body, and there's room for the instruction. 'Heralds of +Progress' on one side, 'Heralds of Light' on the other, if a right thing +is said, 'judge ye.' If infidels are here, there are devout, yes, and +very orthodox Christians there. + +I beg to say that when I speak of 'old cerements' being put off, I +pre-suppose a living body in resurrection. Also, I don't call +_marriage_, for instance, an old cerement. We must distinguish. With +regard to the common notion of a 'hell,' as you ask me, I don't believe +in it. I don't believe in any such thing as arbitrary reward or +punishment, but in consequences and logical results. That seems to me +God's way of working. The Scriptural phrases are simply symbolical, it +seems to me, and Swedenborg helps you past the symbol. Then as to the +Redemption and its mode--let us receive the thing simply. Dr. Adam +Clarke, whose piety was never doubted, used to say, 'Vicarious suffering +is vicarious nonsense.' Which does not hinder the fact that the +suffering of the Lord was necessary, in order that we should not suffer, +and that through His work and incarnation His worlds recovered the +possibility of good. It comes to the same thing. The manner in which +preachers analyse the Infinite, pass the Divine through a sieve, has +ceased to be endurable to thinking men. You speak of Luther. We all +speak of Luther. Did you ever _read_ any of his theological treatises. +He was a schoolman of the most scholastic sect; most offensive, most +absurd, presenting my idea of 'old cerements' to the uttermost. We are +entering on a Reformation far more interior than Luther's; and the +misfortune is, that if we don't enter we must drop under the lintel. Do +you hear of the storms in England about 'Essays and Reviews'? I have +seen the book simply by reviews in abstract and extract. I should agree +with the writers in certain things, but certainly not in all. I have no +sort of sympathy with what is called 'rationalism,' which is positivism +in a form. The vulgar idea of miracles being put into solution, leaves +you with the higher law and spiritual causation; which the rationalists +deny, and which you and I hold faithfully. But whatever one holds, free +discussion has become necessary. That it is full of danger; that, in +consequence of it, many minds will fall into infidelity, doubt, and +despair, is certain; but through this moral crisis men must pass, or the +end will be worse still. That's my belief, I have seen it coming for +years back. + +'The hungry flock looks up and is not fed,' except with chopped hay of +the schools. Go into any church in England, or out of England, and you +hear men preaching 'in pattens,' walking gingerly, lest a speck of +natural moisture touch a stocking; seeking what's 'sound,' not what's +'true.' Now if only on theology they must not think, there will be soon +a close for theologians. Educated men disbelieve to a degree quite +unsuspected. That, I know of knowledge. + +No! Swedenborg does not hold the existence of _devils_ in the ordinary +meaning. Spiritual temptation comes, he says, through disembodied +corrupt spirits, out of this or _other earths_. The word Satan, +remember, he conceives to represent a company of such evil spirits. + +Now in what spirit have I written all this? Gently, this time, I do +hope. If you knew in what an agonised state of humiliation I am +sometimes, you would not suspect me of 'despising' you? Oh no, indeed. +But I am much in earnest, and can't 'prophesy smooth things,' at moments +of strong conviction. Who can? + +Indeed, indeed, yes. I am very anxious about what passes in Paris. Do +you know that Keller's infamous discourse was _corrected by Guizot's own +hand_? Mr. Pentland (who was with the Prince of Wales) knows G. and +this. He (P.) has just come from Paris. He knows the 'sommites' there, +and considers that, though there is danger, yet on the whole the Emperor +dominates the situation. Prince N.'s speech, in its general outline, was +submitted to the E. and had his full sympathy, _Persigny said to_ P. or +in his presence. Let no one ever speak ill of Prince N. before me; I +read all the seventeen columns in the 'Moniteur,' and most magnificent +was the discourse. Rome is greatly excited, but hopeful. There may be +delay, however. + +Surely you don't think the large head of Robert bad. Why, it is +exquisite.... I can't read over, and send this scratch that you may +pardon me before you go (not to lose the post). + +Sarianna says that Squires carries about his own table. In which case, I +give him up. Don't _you_ write. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss I. Blagden_ + +126 Via Felice, [Rome: early in 1861]. + +Dearest dear Isa,--We don't get the paper. Will you ask why? Here's a +special address enclosed. + +I have just heard from what seems excellent authority (_F.P._ Zanetti +has been here) that a French company is to be withdrawn from Rome +to-day, and that _all_ the troops will be immediately withdrawn from the +R.S., except Rome and Civita Vecchia. The French generals, however, were +not aware of this yesterday morning, though prepared for much, and thus +I can't help a certain scepticism. There is an impression in French +quarters, that the delay arises from a fear of a '_coup_' on the part of +Austria, if she didn't see France hereabouts. But Gorgon means to try to +get away before the crisis, which isn't in his tastes at all. De Noue +has gone--went yesterday. + +I heard yesterday of Sir John Bowring telling somebody that _the time_ +had resolved itself now into an affair of _days_. Still, there are +people I suppose who hold fast their opinions of the antique form, like +Mr. Massy Dawson, for instance, who called on me yesterday with +moustaches and a bride, but otherwise unchanged. He still maintains that +Napoleon will perish in defence of the Papacy, and that (from first to +last) he has been thwarted in Italy. 'I know that Sir John Bowring, +Diomed Pantaleone, Mrs. Browning' (bowing graciously to me in that +complimentary frame of body which befits disputants with female +creatures), 'and other persons better informed than I am, think +differently. And, in fact, if I looked only _at facts_ and at the +worldly circumstances of the case, I should agree with you all. But +reading the "Apocalypse" as I do, I find myself before a fixed +conclusion!' Imagine this, dearest Isa mine, his bride sitting in a +delicate dove-coloured silk on the sofa, as tame as any dove, and not +venturing to coo even. I suppose she thought it quite satisfactory. What +a woman with a brain could be made to suffer under certain casualties! +He quoted simply St. John and Mr. Kinglake! Mr. Kinglake plainly running +a little with St. John. 'Wasn't he (Kinglake) a member of Parliament, +and a lawyer?' And if his allegation wasn't true, and if Napoleon did +not propose to Francis Joseph to swap Lombardy for the Rhine provinces, +why was there no contradiction on the part of the French Emperor? + +Now do mark the necessity of Napoleon's saying, 'I didn't really pick +Mr. Jones's pocket of his best foulard last Monday--no, though it hung +out a tempting end. Pray don't let the volunteers think so ill of me.' + +That would have been '_like_' our Emperor--wouldn't it? + +By the way, I had yesterday a crowd of people, and all at once, so that +I was in a flutter of weakness, and didn't get over it quickly. Mrs. +Bruen brought Miss Sewell (Amy Herbert) and Lady Juliana Knox, whom +Annunziata takes in as a homoeopathic dose, 'E molto curioso questo +cognome, precisamente come la medicina--_nux_ (tale quale).' She (Lady +Juliana) had just been presented to the Pope, just before his illness, +and was much touched, when at the close of the reception of +indiscriminately Catholics and Protestants, he prayed a simple prayer in +French and gave them all his benediction, ending in a sad humble voice, +'_Priez pour le pape._' + +It _was_ touching--was it not? Poor old man! When you feel the human +flesh through the ecclesiastical robe, you get into sympathy with him at +once. + +Miss Sewell will come and see me again, she promised, and then I shall +talk with her more. I couldn't get at her through the people yesterday. +She is very nice, gentle-looking, cheerful, respectable sort +of--single-womanish person (decidedly single) of the olden type; very +small, slim, quiet, with the nearest approach to a poky bonnet possible +in this sinful generation. I, in my confusion, did not glance at her +petticoats, but, judging _a priori_, I should predicate a natural +incompatibility with crinoline. But really I liked her, liked her. There +were gentleness, humility, and conscience--three great gifts. Of course +we can touch only on remote points; but I hope (for my own sake) we may +touch on these, and another day I mean to try. She said one thing which +I liked. Speaking of convents, she 'considered that women must +deteriorate by any separation from men.' Now that's not only true, but +it is not on the surface of things as seen from her standpoint. + +I had a visit a day ago from M. Carl Gruen, a Prussian, with a letter of +introduction from Dall' Ongaro. I feel a real regard and liking for +Dall' Ongaro, and would welcome any friend of his. No--my Isa. I would +prefer him as my translator to any 'young lady of twenty.' Heavens, +never whisper it to the Marchesa, but I confide to you that my blood ran +cold at that thought. I know what poets of twenty must in all +probability be--Dall' Ongaro _is_ a poet, and has a remarkable command +of language. + +I have tried my hand at turning into literal Italian prose (only marking +the lines) a lyric on Rome sent lately to America; and I may show it to +you one of these days. + +Now I must send off this. In tender love. + +Your BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss I. Blagden_ + +[Rome,] 126 Via Felice: March 20, [1861]. + + ... Let me answer your questions concerning _Non Pio V.E._ Se non vero, +ben trovato. Very happy, and I hope true. Probably enough it may be +true, though I never heard it but from you. There was a banner with +'Viva Pio IX.' on one side, and 'Viva V.E. re d'Italia' on the +other--that's true. And various devices we have had, miraculous rains of +revolutionary placards among the rest. The French have taken to +'protect' our demonstrations here, half by way of keeping them under, +perhaps--although the sympathy between the people and the troops (Gorgon +apart) has been always undeniable. You know there was to be a gigantic +demonstration to meet the declaration in the North. It was fixed to +spread itself over three days. The French politely begged the 'papalini' +to keep out of sight, and then they marched with the Roman demonstration +for two days--twenty thousand Romans gathered together, I hear from +those who were there, the greatest order observed--tricolors insinuated +into the costume of all the women. After a certain time, French officer +turns round and addresses the populace 'Gioventu Romana, basta cosi. +Adesso bisogna andare a casa, poiche mi farebbe grandissimo dispiacere +d' aprire ad alcuno la strada delle carceri.' The last words said +smiling--as words to the wise. 'Grazie, grazie, grazie' were replied on +all sides, and the people dispersed in the best humour possible. +Yesterday (San Giuseppe) we were to have had it repeated, but it rained +hard, which was fortunate, perhaps; and I hear something of cannons +being placed in evidence, and of Gorgon saying 'de haute voix' that he +couldn't allow it to go on. But everybody understands Gorgon. He has +certainly, up to a point, Papal sympathies, and is as tender as he dares +be to the Holy Father, and the irritation and wrath of the priestly +party is naturally great. On the other hand, the whole body of French +troops and their officers are as much vexed by Gorgon as Gorgon can vex +me, and there's fraternisation with the Romans to an extraordinary +degree. + +Penini came home three days ago in a state of ecstasy. 'No--he never had +been so happy in all his life. Oh mama, I _am_ so happy!' What had +happened, I asked. Why, Pen, being on the Pincio, had fallen on the +French troops, had pushed through, and heard 'l'ordre du jour' read, had +made friends with 'ever so many captains,' had marched in the ranks +round the Pincio and into the _caserne_, had talked a great deal about +Chopin, Stephen Heller, &c., with musical officers, and most about +politics, and had been good-naturedly brought back to our door because +he was 'too little to come alone through the crowd.' What had they not +told him? Such things about Italy. 'They hoped,' said Pen, 'that _I +would not think_ they were like the Papalini. No indeed. They hoped I +knew the French were different quite; and that, though they protected +the Holy Father, they certainly didn't mean to fight for him. What +_they_ wanted was V.E. King of Italy. _Napoleon veut l'Italie libre._ I +was to _understand that, and remember it_.' The attention, and the +desire to conciliate Pen's good opinion, had perfectly turned the +child's head. It will be 'dearest Napoleon' more than ever. Of course, +he had invited the officers to 'come in and see mama,' only they were +too discreet for this. + +Pantaleone is exiled--ordered to go in eight days, three of which are +passed. He is still in hopes of gaining more time, but the Pope is said +to be resolutely set against him. I am very sorry, not surprised. He +told Robert yesterday, that nothing can be surer than that Napoleon has +been throughout a true friend to Italy. Which is a good deal for a man +to admit who began with all the irritation against Napoleon of a Roman +of 1849. Even after the war, through Villafranca, the bad feeling +returned, and as he lives so much among the English, it was only natural +that he should receive certain influences. He is with Odo Russell (who +calls him Pant) nearly every day, and Mr. Cartwright is very intimate +with him besides. But P. is above all things Italian, and the Italian of +the most _incisive_ intellect I ever talked with. He praises Lord John. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +[Rome,] [end of March] 1861 [postmark]. + +We take ourselves to be dismally aggrieved, ever dearest Sarianna, by +your criticisms on our photographs. After deep reflection I can't help +feeling sure (against Robert's impression) that he sent you--not the +right one, but one which has undeniably a certain 'grin.' I prevail with +him to let you have the _two-third likeness_ this time, in order to +decide the point. If you keep your opinion, why then all artistic Rome +is against you without exception. Nobody likes the sepia-coloured thing +of last year in comparison. Every album in Rome gives up its dead and +insists on the new likeness--not only is it considered more like, but so +infinitely superior in expression and poetical _convenance_, that it +_ought_ to be more like. So everybody thinks. With regard to the head, I +am of opinion that the head is beautiful, and the eyes singularly full +of expression for photographed eyes, but there may be more difference of +opinion about the head. The _two-third view_ you certainly can't have +seen. Why, we had even resolved (as we couldn't hope to grow younger) to +stand or fall with posterity by this production. 'Ecco!' + +As to age--no! it's cruel of you to talk so. Robert's beard was +tolerably white when he was in Paris last, and, in fact, his moustache +is less so than the rest, therefore there can't be, and isn't in this +respect, so rapid a 'decline and fall' in his appearance. The clipping +of the side whiskers, which are very grey, is an advantage, and as to +the hair, it is by no means cut short. 'Like an _epicier_?' No indeed. +The _epicier_ is bushy and curly about the ears (see an example in +'Galignani'), and moreover will keep the colour of the curl 'if he dyes +for it'--an extremity to which Robert and I will never be driven--having +too much the fear of attentive friends and affectionate biographers +before our eyes--as suggested by poor Balzac's. But Robert is looking +remarkably well and young--in spite of all lunar lights in his hair. +Though my hair keeps darker with a certain sprinkle however, underneath +which forces its way outwards, I would willingly change on the whole +with him, if he were not my own Robert. He is not thin or worn, as I +am--no indeed--and the women adore him everywhere far too much for +decency. In my own opinion he is infinitely handsomer and more +attractive than when I saw him first, sixteen years ago--which does not +mean as much as you may suppose, that I myself am superannuated and +wholly anile, and incompetent therefore for judgment. No, indeed, I +believe people in general would think the same exactly. And as to the +modelling--well, I told you that I grudged a little the time from his +own particular art--and that is true. But it does not do to dishearten +him about his modelling. He has given a great deal of time to anatomy +with reference to the expression of form, and the clay is only the new +medium which takes the place of drawing. Also, Robert is peculiar in his +ways of work as a poet. I have struggled a little with him on this +point--for I don't think him right--that is to say, it wouldn't be right +for me--and I heard the other day that it wouldn't be right for +Tennyson. Tennyson is a regular worker, shuts himself up daily for so +many hours. And we are generally so made that a regular hour is good, +even for so uncertain an influence as mesmerism. But Robert waits for an +inclination--works by fits and starts--he can't do otherwise he +says.[98] Then reading hurts him. As long as I have known him he has not +been able to read long at a time--he can do it now better than in the +beginning of time. The consequence of which is that he wants occupation +and that an active occupation is salvation to him with his irritable +nerves, saves him from ruminating bitter cud, and from the process which +I call beating his dear head against the wall till it is bruised, simply +because he sees a fly there, magnified by his own two eyes almost +indefinitely into some Saurian monster. He has an enormous superfluity +of vital energy, and if it isn't employed, it strikes its fangs into +him. He gets out of spirits as he was at Havre. Nobody understands +exactly why--except me who am in the inside of him and hear him breathe. +For the peculiarity of our relation is, that even when he's displeased +with me, he thinks aloud with me and can't stop himself. And I know +ultimately that whatever takes him out of a certain circle (where habits +of introvision and analysis of fly-legs are morbidly exercised), is life +and joy to him. I wanted his poems done this winter very much--and here +was a bright room with three windows consecrated to use. But he had a +room all last summer, and did nothing. Then, he worked himself out by +riding for three or four hours together--there has been little poetry +done since last winter, when he did much. He was not inclined to write +this winter. The modelling combines body-work and soul-work, and the +more tired he has been, and the more his back ached, poor fellow, the +more he has exulted and been happy--'_no, nothing ever made him so happy +before_'--also the better he has looked and the stouter grown. So I +couldn't be much in opposition against the sculpture--I couldn't, in +fact, at all. He has the material for a volume, and will work at it this +summer, he says. His power is much in advance of 'Strafford,' which is +his poorest work of all. Oh, the brain stratifies and matures +creatively, even in the pauses of the pen. + +At the same time his treatment in England affects him naturally--and for +my part I set it down as an infamy of that public--no other word. He +says he has told you some things you had not heard, and which, I +acknowledge, I always try to prevent him from repeating to anyone. I +wonder if he has told you besides (no, I fancy not) that an English lady +of rank, _an acquaintance of ours_ (observe that!), asked, the other +day, the American Minister whether 'Robert was not an American.' The +Minister answered 'Is it possible that _you_ ask me _this_? Why, there +is not so poor a village in the United States where they would not tell +you that Robert Browning was an Englishman, and that they were very +sorry he was not an American.' Very pretty of the American Minister--was +it not?--and literally true besides. + +I have been meditating, Sarianna, dear, whether we might not make our +summer out at Fontainebleau in the picturesque part of the forest. It +would be quiet, and not very dear. And we might dine together and take +hands as at Havre--for we will all insist on Robert's doing the +hospitality. I confess to shrinking a good deal about the noise of +Paris--we might try Paris later. What do you say? The sea is so very +far--it is such a journey--it looks so to me just now. And the south of +France is very hot--as hot as Italy--besides making you pay greatly 'for +your whistle.' Switzerland would increase both expenses and journey for +everybody. Fontainebleau is said to be delicious in the summer, and if +you don't mind losing your sea bathing, it might answer. Arabel wants me +to go to England, but as _I did not last year_ my heart and nerves +revolt from it now. Besides, we belong to the nonno and you this +summer. Arabel can and, I dare say, will join us. And Milsand? You say +'once in three years.' Not quite _so_, I think. In any case, it has been +far worse with some of mine. All the days of the three times of meeting +in fourteen years, can only be multiplied together into _three weeks_; +and this after a life of close union! Also, it was not _her_ fault--she +had not pecuniary means. I am bitter against myself for not having gone +to England for a week or two in the Havre year. I could have done it, +Robert would have let me. But now, no more. It was the war the year +before last, and my unsteadiness of health last year, which kept us from +our usual visit to you. This time we shall come. + +Only we shall avoid the Alps, coming and going, out of prudence. Then, +for next winter, we return to Rome.... + +Why do you believe all the small gossip set in movement by the Emperor's +enemies, in Paris, against his friends, as in foreign countries against +himself? It's a league of lies against him and his. 'Intriguing +lacqueys.' That's a sweeping phrase for all persons of distinction in +France, except members of the Opposition. That men like De Morny and +Walewski may speculate unduly I don't doubt, but even the 'Times' says +now that these things have been probably exaggerated. I have heard great +good of both these men. As to Prince Napoleon, he has spoken like a man +and a prince. We are at his feet here in Italy. Tell our dear friend +Milsand that I read the seventeen columns of the speech in the +'Moniteur.' Robert said 'magnificent.' I had tears in my eyes. There may +have been fault in the P.'s private life--and may be still. Where is a +clean man? But for the rest, he has done and spoken worthily--and what +is better, we have reason to believe here that the Emperor sympathises +with him wholly. Odo Russell knows the Prince--says that he is +'petillant d'esprit' and has great weight with the Emperor. + +[_The remainder of this letter is missing_] + + * * * * * + + +_To Mrs. Martin_ + +[Rome,] 126 Via Felice: [April 1861]. + +[My] very dear friends, how am I to thank [you] both? I receive the +photograph with a heart running over. It is perfect. Never could a +likeness be more satisfactory. It is himself. Form, expression, the +whole man and soul, on which years cannot leave the least dint of a +tooth. The youthfulness is extraordinary. We are all crying out against +our 'black lines' (laying them all to the sun of course!) and even +pretty women of our acquaintance in Rome come out with some twenty years +additional on their heads, to their great dissatisfaction. But my dear +Mr. Martin is my dear Mr. Martin still, unblacked, unchanged, as when I +knew him in the sun long ago, when suns were content to make funny +places, instead of drawing pictures! How good of dearest Mrs. Martin (it +was she, I think!) to send this to me! I wish she (or he) had sent me +hers besides. (How grasping some of us are!) + +Then she sent me a short time since a book for my Peni, which he seized +on with blazing eyes and an exclamation, 'Oh, what fun!' A work by his +great author, Mayne Reid, who outshines all other authors, unless it's +Robinson Crusoe, who, of course, wrote his own life. It was so very very +good of you. Robert had repeatedly tried in Rome to buy a new volume of +Mayne Reid for the child, and never could get one. Our drawback in Rome +relates to books. We subscribe to a French library (not good) and snatch +at accidental 'waifs,' and then the newspapers (which I intrigue about, +and get smuggled through the courteous hands of French generals) are +absorbing enough. + +I had a letter from George yesterday with good news of dearest Mrs. +Martin. May it be true. But I can't understand whether you have spent +this winter in Devonshire or Worcestershire, or where. The thick gloom +of it is over now, yet I find myself full of regrets. It's so hard to +have to get out into the workday world, daylight, open air and all, and +there's a duty on me to go to France, that Robert may see his father. +You would pity me if you could see how I dread it. Arabel will meet me, +and spend at least the summer with us, probably in the neighbourhood of +Paris, and after just the first, we--even I--may be the happier. Don't +tell anyone that I feel so. I should like to go into a cave for the +year. Not that I haven't taken to work again, and to my old interests in +politics. One doesn't quite rot in one's selfishness, after all. In +fact, I think of myself as little as possible; it's the only way to bear +life, to throw oneself out of the personal. + +And my Italy goes on well in spite of some Neapolitan troubles, which +are exaggerated, I can certify to you. Rome, according to my information +as well as my instincts, approaches the crisis we desire. In respect to +Venetia, we may (perhaps must) have a struggle for it, which might have +been unnecessary if England had frankly accepted co-action with France, +instead of doing a little liberalism and a great deal of suspicion on +her own account. As it is, there's an impression in Europe that +considerations about the East (to say nothing of the Ionian Islands) +will be stronger than Vattel, and forbid our throwing over our 'natural +ally' for the sake of our 'natural enemy.' + +I am sure you must have been anxious lately on account of America. There +seems to be a good deal of weakness, even on the part of Lincoln, who, +if he had not the means of defending Fort Sumter and maintaining the +Union, should not have spoken as he did. Not that it may not be as well +to let the Southern States secede. Perhaps better so. What I feared most +was that the North would compromise; and I fear still that they are not +heroically strong on their legs on the _moral question_. I fear it much. +If they can but hold up it will be noble. + +We remain here (where we have had the mildest of winters) till somewhat +late in May, when we go to Florence for a week or two on our way to +Paris. + +You see my Emperor is 'crowning the edifice';[99] it is the beginning. +Sir John Bowring says that the more liberty he can give, the better he +will like it. _He told Sir John so._ + +Is it right and loyal meanwhile of Guizot and his party to oppose the +Empire by upholding the enemies of Italy? I ask you. Such things I hear +from Paris! Guizot corrected Keller's speech with his own hand. + +May God bless you! Pen's love and gratitude. If Robert were here he +would be named. Love me and think of me a little. + +Your ever affectionate and grateful +BA. + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +[Rome]: May 11, 1861 (postmark). + +Your account of the dearest nonno was very pleasant on the whole, only, +of course, you will be very careful with him. And then, dearest +Sarianna, you yourself have not been well. The grippe seems to have been +bitter against you. This is the time of year when it generally rages, +and even Pen has had a small cough, which makes me austere about hours. +In fact, the weather in the north has reverberated here, and we have +paid for our mild winter by a considerable lingering of cold wind, from +snow on the mountains, they say. As for me, it's much to my disadvantage +in getting air and strength. I hope you are quite well again, as is Pen, +and that the loved nonno is as strong as he ever was. Do you get good +wine for him? The vintages are said to have suffered (which grieves me +for poor dear Milsand) from the frost. We hear of travellers in +snowstorms through England, where the cold has been great, and that in +Paris, too, there has been snow. I do hope the opening summer will not +copy the last. + +Dearest Sarianna, try to find out if Fontainebleau is damp, because I +was assured the other day that it was, besides being subject to intense +heats. Also, will you see if there is a completed railroad to Trouville? +Robert denies that sea-air ever disagrees with him (sea-_bathing_ does), +and it may be good for you and for Pen, to say nothing of Arabel, who is +coming in the course of the summer. The objection is the journey, but if +the railroad is there, it would not prolong the journey (in relation to +Fontainebleau) more than two or three hours, if so much, would it? We +ought to inquire a little beforehand. We shall get to you as early as we +can. The weather is against us everywhere. We shall cut Florence quite +short. By the way, we have the satisfaction of seeing a precipitation of +the Tuscan funds down, down, which only makes Robert wish for more power +of 'buying in,' causing the eyes of a Florentine Frescobaldi to open in +wonder at so much audacity. But Robert, generally so timid in such +things, has caught a flush of my rashness, and is alarmed by neither +sinking funds nor rising loans. We have a strong faith in Italy--_Italia +fatta_--particularly since that grand child, Garibaldi, has turned good +again. The troubles in the Neapolitan States are exaggerated, are +perilous even so, and I dare say Milsand thinks we are all going to +pieces, but _we shall not_; there are great men here, and there will be +a great nation presently. An Australian Englishman, very acute, and free +from the political faults (as I see them) of England, did all he could +to prepare me for failure in Italy, 'to save my heart from breaking,' as +he said. And we have had drawbacks since then, yet my hope remains as +strong. + +The Duchesse de Grammont (French Embassy) sent us a card for +Penini--'matinee d'enfants'--and he went, and was rather proud of being +received under a full-length portrait of Napoleon, who is as dear as +ever to him. It was a very splendid affair, quite royal. Pen wore a +crimson velvet blouse, and was presented to various small Italian +princes, Colonnas, Dorias, Piombinos, and had the honor of talking +ponies and lessons and playing leap-frog with them. The ambassador's own +boy, the little Grammont, has a pony 'tale quale' like Pen's, only +superannuated rather, which gives us the advantage.... + +I wonder if he will confide to you his tender admiration for the young +queen of Naples, whom, between you and me, he pursues, and receives in +return ever so many smiles from that sad lovely face. When charged with +a love affair, Pen answered gravely, that he 'did feel a kind of +_interest_.' He told us that two days since she stood up in her carriage +three times to smile at him. Something, it may be for the pony's sake; +but also, Pen confessed, to an impression that his new jacket attracted! +Fancy little Pen! Robert says she is very pretty, and for Pen (who makes +it a point of conscience to consider the whole 'razza' of Bourbons and +Papalini as 'questi infami _birboni_') to be so drawn, there must be a +charm. After all, poor little creature, she acted heroically from her +point of sight, and if the king had minded her, he would have made +liberal concessions _in time_ perhaps. The wretched queen-mother and +herself were at daggers drawn from the beginning. + +I hear that Jessie Mario and her husband have been taken up at Ferrara. +They were _only_ going to begin the war with Austria on their own +account. Mazzini deserves what I should be sorry to inflict. He is a man +without conscience. And that's no reason why Jessie and her party should +use him for _theirs_. Mario is only the husband of his wife. + +Robert has brought me home a most perfect copy of a small torso of +Venus--from the Greek--in the clay. It is wonderfully done, say the +learned. He says 'all his happiness lies in clay now'; _that_ was his +speech to me this morning. _Not_ a compliment, but said so sincerely and +fervently, that I could not but sympathise and wish him a life-load of +clay to riot in. It's the mixture of physical and intellectual effort +which makes the attraction, I imagine. Certainly he is very well and +very gay. + +I am happy to see that the 'North British Quarterly' has an article on +him. That gives hope for England. Thackeray has turned me out of the +'Cornhill' for indecency, but did it so prettily and kindly that I, who +am forgiving, sent him another poem. He says that plain words permitted +on Sundays must not be spoken on Mondays in England, and also that his +'Magazine is for babes and sucklings.' (I thought it was for the +volunteers.) + +May God bless you, dearest Sarianna and nonno! Pen's love. + + * * * * * + + +The incident alluded to in the last paragraph deserves fuller mention, +for the credit it does to both parties concerned in it. The letters that +passed between Thackeray and Mrs. Browning on the subject have been +given by Mrs. Richmond Ritchie in the 'Cornhill Magazine' for July 1896, +from which I am allowed to quote them. Mrs. Browning, in reply to a +request from Thackeray for contributions to the then newly established +'Cornhill,' had sent him, among other poems, 'Lord Walter's Wife,'[100] +of which, though the moral is unimpeachable, the subject is not +absolutely _virginibus puerisque_. The editor, in this difficulty, wrote +the following admirable letter:-- + + * * * * * + + +_W.M. Thackeray to Mrs. Browning._ + +36 Onslow Square: April 2, 1861. + +My dear, kind Mrs. Browning,--Has Browning ever had an aching tooth +which must come out (I don't say _Mrs._ Browning, for women are much +more courageous)--a tooth which must come out, and which he has kept for +months and months away from the dentist? I have had such a tooth a long +time, and have sate down in this chair, and never had the courage to +undergo the pull. + +This tooth is an allegory (I mean _this_ one). It's your poem that you +sent me months ago, and who am I to refuse the poems of Elizabeth +Browning and set myself up as a judge over her? I can't tell you how +often I have been going to write and have failed. You see that our +Magazine is written not only for men and women but for boys, girls, +infants, sucklings almost; and one of the best wives, mothers, women in +the world writes some verses which I feel certain would be objected to +by many of our readers. Not that the writer is not pure, and the moral +most pure, chaste, and right, but there are things _my_ squeamish public +will not hear on Monday, though on Sundays they listen to them without +scruple. In your poem, you know, there is an account of unlawful +passion, felt by a man for a woman, and though you write pure doctrine, +and real modesty, and pure ethics, I am sure our readers would make an +outcry, and so I have not published this poem. + +To have to say no to my betters is one of the hardest duties I have, but +I'm sure we must not publish your verses, and I go down on my knees +before cutting my victim's head off, and say, 'Madam, you know how I +respect and regard you, Browning's wife and Penini's mother; and for +what I am going to do I most humbly ask your pardon.' + +My girls send their very best regards and remembrances, and I am, dear +Mrs. Browning, + +Always yours, + +W.M. THACKERAY. + + * * * * * + + +Mrs. Browning's answer follows. + + * * * * * + + +_To W.M. Thackeray_ + +Rome, 126 Via Felice: April 21, [1861]. + +Dear Mr. Thackeray,--Pray consider the famous 'tooth' (a wise tooth!) as +extracted under chloroform, and no pain suffered by anybody. + +To prove that I am not sulky, I send another contribution, which may +prove too much, perhaps--and, if you think so, dispose of the +supererogatory virtue by burning the manuscript, as I am sure I may rely +on your having done with the last. + +I confess it, dear Mr. Thackeray, never was anyone turned out of a room +for indecent behaviour in a more gracious and conciliatory manner! Also, +I confess that from your 'Cornhill' standpoint (paterfamilias looking +on) you are probably right ten times over. From mine, however, I may not +be wrong, and I appeal to you as the deep man you are, whether it is not +the higher mood, which on Sunday bears with the 'plain word,' so +offensive on Monday, during the cheating across the counter? I am not a +'fast woman.' I don't like coarse subjects, or the coarse treatment of +any subject. But I am deeply convinced that the corruption of our +society requires not shut doors and windows, but light and air: and that +it is exactly because pure and prosperous women choose to _ignore_ vice, +that miserable women suffer wrong by it everywhere. Has paterfamilias, +with his Oriental traditions and veiled female faces, very successfully +dealt with a certain class of evil? What if materfamilias, with her +quick sure instincts and honest innocent eyes, do more towards their +expulsion by simply looking at them and calling them by their names? See +what insolence you put me up to by your kind way of naming my +dignities--'Browning's wife and Penini's mother.' + +And I, being vain (turn some people out of a room and you don't humble +them properly), retort with--'materfamilias!' + +Our friend Mr. Story has just finished a really grand statue of the +'African Sybil.' It will place him very high. + +Where are you all, Annie, Minnie?--Why don't you come and see us in +Rome? + +My husband bids me give you his kind regards, and I shall send Pen's +love with mine to your dear girls. + +Most truly yours, +ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. + +We go to Florence in the latter part of May. + + * * * * * + + +Before leaving Florence, however, the following letter was written to +Mr. Thackeray, which I quote from the same article by Mrs. Ritchie. The +poem alluded to must, however, be 'The North and the South,'[101] Mrs. +Browning's last poem, written with reference to Hans Andersen's visit to +Rome; not 'A Musical Instrument,' as Mrs. Ritchie suggests, which had +been written some time previously. + + * * * * * + + +_To W.M. Thackeray_ + +Rome, 126 Via Felice: [May 21, 1861]. + +Dear Mr. Thackeray,--I hope you received my note and last poem. I hope +still more earnestly that you won't think I am putting my spite against +your chastening hand into a presumptuous and troublesome fluency. + +But Hans Christian Andersen is here, charming us all, and not least the +children. So I wrote these verses--not for 'Cornhill' this month, of +course--though I send them now that they may lie over at your service +(if you are so pleased) for some other month of the summer. + +We go to Florence on the first of June, and lo! here is the twenty-first +of May. + +With love to dear Annie and Minny, + +I remain, most truly yours, +ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. + + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss I. Blagden_ + +Rome: Saturday, [about May 1861]. + +Ever dearest Isa,--Now that Robert's letter is gone, I am able for shame +to write. His waiting did not _mean_ a slackness of kindness, but a +tightness of entanglement in other things; and then absolutely he has +got to the point of doing without reading. Nothing but clay does he care +for, poor lost soul. But you will see, I hope, from what he has written +(to judge by what he speaks), that he is not so lost as to be untouched +by Agnes.[102]... + +I send you, dear, two more translations for Dall' Ongaro. You will have +given him my former message. I began that letter to him, and was +interrupted; and then, considering the shortness of our time here, would +not begin another. You will have explained, and will make him thoroughly +understand, that in sending him a verbal and literal translation I never +thought of exacting such a thing from _him_, but simply of letting him +have the advantage of seeing the _raw, naked poetry as it stands_. In +fact, my translation is scarcely Italian, I know very well. I mean it +for English rather. Conventional and idiomatical Italian forms have been +expressly avoided. I have used the Italian as a net to catch the English +in for the use of an Italian poet! Let him understand. + +We shall be soon in our Florence now. I am rather stronger, but so weak +still that my eyes dazzle to think of it. Povera me! + +Tell Dall' Ongaro that his friend M. Carl Gruen had enough of me in one +visit. He never came again, though I prayed him to come. I have not been +equal to receiving in the evening, and perhaps he expected an +invitation. I go to bed at eight on most nights. I'm the rag of a Ba. +Yet I _am_ stronger, and look much so, it seems to me. Mr. Story is +_doing_ Robert's bust, which is likely to be a success.[103] Hatty +brought us a most charming design for a fountain for Lady Marion Alford. +The imagination is unfolding its wings in Hatty. She is quite of a mind +to spend the summer with you at Florence or elsewhere. The Storys talk +of Switzerland.... + +Andersen (the Dane) came to see me yesterday--kissed my hand, and seemed +in a general _verve_ for embracing. He is very earnest, very simple, +very childlike. I like him. Pen says of him, 'He is not really pretty. +He is rather like his own ugly duck, but his mind has _developed_ into a +swan.' + +That wasn't bad of Pen, was it? He gets on with his Latin too. And, Isa, +he has fastened a half-franc to his button-hole, for the sake of the +beloved image, and no power on earth can persuade him out of being so +ridiculous. I was base enough to say that it wouldn't please the Queen +of Spain! And he responded, he 'chose her to know that he _did_ love +Napoleon'! + +Isa, I send these two last poems that Dall' Ongaro may be aware of my +sympathy's comprehending more sides than one of Italian experience. + +We have taken no apartment yet!!! + + * * * * * + + +_To Miss Browning_ + +Florence: June 7, 1861 [postmark]. + +I can't let Robert's disagreeable letter go alone, dearest Sarianna, +though my word will be as heavy as a stone at the bottom of it. I am +deeply sorry you should have had the vain hope of seeing Robert and Pen. +As for me, I know my place; I am only good for a drag chain. But, dear, +don't fancy it has been the fault of my _will_. In fact, I said almost +too much at Rome to Robert, till he fancied I had set my selfwill on +tossing myself up as a halfpenny, and coming down on the wrong side. +Now, in fact, it was not at all (nearly) for Arabel that I wished to go, +only I did really wish and do my best to go. He, on the other hand, +before we left Rome, had made up his mind (helped by a stray physician +of mine, whom he met in the street) that it would be a great risk to +carry me north. He (Robert) always a little exaggerates the difficulties +of travelling, and there's no denying that I have less strength than is +usual to me even at the present time. I touched the line of vexing him, +with my resistance to the decision, but he is so convinced that repose +is necessary for me, and that the lions in the path will be all asleep +by this time next year, that I yielded. Certainly he has a right to +command me away from giving him unnecessary anxieties. What does vex me +is that the dearest nonno should not see his Peni this year, and that +you, dear, should be disappointed, _on my account again_. That's hard on +us all. We came home into a cloud here. I can scarcely command voice or +hand to name _Cavour_.[104] That great soul, which meditated and made +Italy, has gone to the Diviner country. If tears or blood could have +saved him to us, he should have had mine. I feel yet as if I could +scarcely comprehend the greatness of the vacancy. A hundred Garibaldis +for such a man. There is a hope that certain solutions had been prepared +between him and the Emperor, and that events will slide into their +grooves. May God save Italy! Dear M. Milsand had pleased me so by his +appreciation, but there _are_ great difficulties. The French press, tell +him, has, on the whole, done great service, except that part of it under +the influence of the ultramontane and dynastic opposition parties. And +as to exaggerated statements, it is hard, even here, to get at the truth +(with regard to the state of the south), and many Italian liberals have +had hours of anxiety and even of despondency. English friends of ours, +very candid and liberal, have gone to Naples full of hope, and returned +hoping nothing--yet they are wrong, unless this bitter loss makes them +right-- + +Your loving BA-- + +Robert tears me away-- + + * * * * * + + +With this letter the correspondence of Mrs. Browning, so far, at least, +as it is extant or accessible, comes to an end. The journey to Paris had +been abandoned, but it does not appear that there was any cause to +apprehend that her life could now be reckoned only by days. Yet so it +was. For the past three years, it is evident, her strength had been +giving way. Attacks of physical illness weakened her, without being +followed by any adequate rally; but more than all, the continuous stress +and strain of mental anxiety wore her strength away. The war of 1859, +the liberation of Sicily and Naples, the intense irritation of feeling +in connection with English opinion of Louis Napoleon and his policy, the +continual ebb and flow of rumours concerning Venetia and the Papal +States, the illness and death of her sister Henrietta--all these sources +of anxiety told terribly on her sensitive, emotional mind, and thereby +on her enfeebled body. The fragility of her appearance had always struck +strangers. So far back as 1851, Bayard Taylor remarked that 'her frame +seemed to be altogether disproportionate to her soul.' Her 'fiery soul' +did, indeed, with a far more literal truth than can often be the case, +fret her 'puny body to decay, and o'er-informed its tenement of clay.' +Her last illness--or, it may more truly be said, the last phase of that +illness which had been present with her for years--was neither long nor +severe; but she had no more strength left to resist it. Shortly after +her return to Casa Guidi another bronchial attack developed itself, to +all appearance just like many others that she had had before; but this +time there was no recovery. + +Of the last scene no other account need be asked or wished for than +that given by Mr. Browning himself in a letter to Miss Haworth, dated +July 20, 1861.[105] + +My dear Friend,--I well know you feel, as you say, for her once and for +me now. Isa Blagden, perfect in all kindness to me, will have told you +something, perhaps, and one day I shall see you and be able to tell you +myself as much as I can. The main comfort is that she suffered very +little pain, none beside that ordinarily attending the simple attacks of +cold and cough she was subject to, had no presentiment of the result +whatever, and was consequently spared the misery of knowing she was +about to leave us: she was smilingly assuring me that she was 'better,' +'quite comfortable, if I would but come to bed,' to within a few minutes +of the last. I think I foreboded evil at Rome, certainly from the +beginning of the week's illness, but when I reasoned about it, there was +no justifying fear. She said on the last evening 'It is merely the old +attack, not so severe a one as that of two years ago; there is no doubt +I shall soon recover,' and we talked over plans for the summer and next +year. I sent the servants away and her maid to bed, so little reason for +disquietude did there seem. Through the night she slept heavily and +brokenly--that was the bad sign; but then she would sit up, take her +medicine, say unrepeatable things to me, and sleep again. At four +o'clock there were symptoms that alarmed me; I called the maid and sent +for the doctor. She smiled as I proposed to bathe her feet, 'Well, you +_are_ determined to make an exaggerated case of it!' Then came what my +heart will keep till I see her again and longer--the most perfect +expression of her love to me within my whole knowledge of her. Always +smilingly, happily, and with a face like a girl's, and in a few minutes +she died in my arms, her head on my cheek. These incidents so sustain me +that I tell them to her beloved ones as their right: there was no +lingering, nor acute pain, nor consciousness of separation, but God +took her to Himself as you would lift a sleeping child from a dark +uneasy bed into your arms and the light. Thank God! Annunziata thought, +by her earnest ways with me, happy and smiling as they were, that she +must have been aware of our parting's approach, but she was quite +conscious, had words at command, and yet did not even speak of Peni, who +was in the next room. The last word was, when I asked, 'How do you +feel?' 'Beautiful.'... + +So ended on earth the most perfect example of wedded happiness in the +history of literature--perfect in the inner life and perfect in its +poetical expression. It was on June 29, 1861, that Mrs. Browning died. +She was buried at Florence, where her body rests in a sarcophagus +designed by her friend and her husband's friend, Frederic Leighton, the +future President of the Royal Academy. At a later date, when her husband +was laid to rest in Westminster Abbey, her remains might have been +transferred to England, to lie with his among the great company of +English poets in which they had earned their places. But it was thought +better, on the whole, to leave them undisturbed in the land and in the +city which she had loved so well, and which had been her home so long. +In life and in death she had been made welcome in Florence. The +Italians, as her husband said, seemed to have understood her by an +instinct; and upon the walls of Casa Guidi is a marble slab, placed +there by the municipality of Florence, and bearing an inscription from +the pen of the Italian poet, Tommaseo:-- + + QUI SCRISSE E MORI + ELISABETTA BARRETT BROWNING + CHE IN CUORE DI DONNA CONCILIAVA + SCIENZA DI DOTTO E SPIRITO DI POETA + E FECE DEL SUO VERSO AUREO ANELLO + FRA ITALIA E INGHILTERRA. + PONE QUESTA LAPIDE + FIRENZE GRATA + 1861. + +It is with words adapted from this memorial that her husband, seven +years later, closed his own great poem, praying that the 'ring,' to +which he likens it, might but-- + + 'Lie outside thine, Lyric Love, + Thy rare gold ring of verse (the poet praised), + Linking our England to his Italy.' + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[77] This refers to the 'Curse for a Nation.' + +[78] See note on p. 387. [Transcriber's note: Reference is to Footnote +[87].] + +[79] Mrs. Jameson died on March 17, 1860. + +[80] The surrender to France of Savoy and Nice, which, though propounded +by Napoleon to Cavour before the war, was only definitely demanded at +the end of February 1860. + +[81] Rome, it will be remembered, was still under Papal government. + +[82] The French general appointed by the Pope in April, 1860, to command +the Papal army. + +[83] The Italian poet. + +[84] So in the original, but probably a slip for 'goes abroad.' + +[85] The _Cornhill Magazine_, the first number of which was published, +under Thackeray's editorship, in December 1859. Mrs. Browning's poem, 'A +Musical Instrument' (_Poetical Works_, v. 10), was published in the +number for July 1860. + +[86] His 'Framley Parsonage' was then appearing in the _Cornhill_. + +[87] The championship trophy of the prize ring. The great fight between +Sayers and Heenan had just taken place (April 17, 1860), and had +engrossed the interest of all England, to say nothing of America. + +[88] It is not clear what this can be. Browning published nothing +between 1855 ('Men and Women') and 1864 ('Dramatis Personae'), and there +is no long poem in the latter, unless 'A Death in the Desert' and +'Sludge the Medium' may be so described. The latter is not unlikely to +have been written now, when Home's performances were rampant. His next +really long poem was 'The Ring and the Book,' which certainly had not +yet been begun. + +[89] A novel by Miss Blagden. + +[90] Garibaldi was now engaged in his Neapolitan campaign. Sicily +(except Messina) had been cleared of the Neapolitan troops by the end of +July, and on August 19 Garibaldi had landed in Calabria. + +[91] Now in the National Portrait Gallery. A reproduction of it is given +as the frontispiece to vol. v. of the _Poetical Works_. + +[92] 'A Musical Instrument'; see p. 377, above. + +[93] Gaeta, the last remaining stronghold of the Neapolitan Government, +was besieged by the Italian forces from November to January. During the +first two months of the siege the French fleet prevented the Italians +from operating against it by sea, and it was ultimately through the +intervention of the English Government that Napoleon was persuaded to +withdraw his ships. + +[94] Viterbo had declared for the Italian government, but had been +occupied by French troops on behalf of the Pope. Many of the inhabitants +left it, and a body of Italian volunteers entered the country in support +of them. It is presumably to this movement that the passage in the text +refers. + +[95] _Poetical Works_, v. 3. The poem evidently refers to the loss of +her brother Edward, but might be supposed (being published at this +moment) to refer to the death of her sister Henrietta, shortly after +which this letter was evidently written. + +[96] Gaeta fell on January 15, 1861. + +[97] Mr. Val Prinsep, R.A. + +[98] Mrs. Orr's _Life_ shows that this was only a temporary phase. In +later life, especially, he was very regular in his hours of poetical +work. + +[99] It is curious that these are the very words which (as a translation +from the Greek) Robert Browning used ten years later as the motto of his +study of Louis Napoleon in 'Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau'; but the +'crowning' was of a very different kind then. + + 'Attempting one more labour, in a trice, + Alack, _with ills I crowned the edifice_.' + +[100] _Poetical Works_, iv. 252. + +[101] _Poetical Works_, v. 6 + +[102] 'Agnes Tremorne,' Miss Blagden's novel. + +[103] After Mrs. Browning's death, Mr. Story made a companion bust of +her, and both busts were subsequently executed in marble on the +commission of Mr. George Barrett, who presented them to Mr. R. Barrett +Browning, in whose possession they have since remained. + +[104] Cavour died on June 6, 1861. + +[105] Mrs. Orr's _Life and Letters of Robert Browning_, p. 249. + + + + +INDEX + + +Abd-el-Kader, i. 388 + +Aberdeen, Lord, ii. 109 + +About, E., ii. 226 + +AEschylus, i. 118, 168, 210; + Translation of his 'Prometheus Bound,' i. 244 + +Agassiz, Miss, i. 458, 467, 468 + +Alexander, Sir William, i, 106 + +America, literary piracy in, i. 451; + appreciation of Mrs. Browning's poetry, i. 118, 120, 131, 177, 178, + 218, ii. 253, 364, 387; + of Robert Browning, ii. 436; + the slavery question, ii. 111, 411, 417, 419, 439 + +Anacreon, translation from, i. 263 + +Ancona, i. 381 + +Andersen, Hans Christian, ii. 446, 448 + +Andrea del Sarto, i. 121 + +Appleton, Mr., ii. 133 + +Apuleius, translations from, i. 249, 250 + +Arnold, Dr. Thomas, i. 206, 207 + +Arnold, Matthew, i. 429 + +Arnould, Mr., ii. 16 + +Arqua, ii. 9 + +'Athenaeum,' the, i. 37, 64, 69, 71, 91, 93, 95, 117, 120, 133, 180, 193, + 207, 227, 256, 446, 469, ii. 171, 242, 243, 334, 366 + +'Atlas,' the, i. 64, 69, 181, 194, 199, ii. 370 + +Austen, Jane, ii. 217 + +Austria, war with France and Italy, ii. 305 ff. + +Azeglio, Massimo d', ii. 308, 312, 389 + + +Baillie, Joanna, i. 230 + +Balzac, H. de, i. 319, 363, 375, 428, 442, 462, ii. 71 + +Barnes, William, i. 223 + +Barrett, Alfred, brother of E.B.B., i. 2, 20, 121, ii. 18; + marriage, ii. 207 + +Barrett, Arabel, sister of E.B.B., i. 2, 10, 19, 20, 39, 52, 70, 71, 76, + 77, 81, 82, 124, 242, 270, 294, ii. 12, 18, 172, 180, 210, 235, 237, + 264, 292 + +Barrett, Charles John ('Stormie'), brother of E.B.B., i. 2, 29, 86, 121, + 151, 152, 189, 242, 251 + +Barrett, Edward ('Bro'), brother of E.B.B., i. 2, 11, 14, 29, 42, 47, + 53, 55, 74, 76, 77; + his death, 83 + +Barrett, Edward Moulton, father of E.B.B., i. 1, 2, 11, 27, 76, 82, 86, + 179, 291, 407, 435, 438, 439, ii. 18, 20, 178, 180, 237; + death, 263 ff. + +Barrett, afterwards Browning, Elizabeth Barrett, birth, i. 1; + childhood and youth at Hope End, 3-6; + removal to Sidmouth, 10; + to London (74 Gloucester Place), 31; + failure of health, _ib._; + removal to 50 Wimpole Street, 56; + publication of 'The Seraphim,' _ib._ 63; + breaking of a blood-vessel, _ib._; + removal to Torquay, 74; + death of her brother Edward, 83; + return to London, 91; + publication of the 'Poems' of 1844, 180-188, 193 ff.; + proposed journey to Italy in 1845, 266 ff.; + love and marriage, 280 ff.; + departure from England, _ib._; + at Pisa, 302 ff.; + Florence, 325; + expedition to Vallombrosa, 332 ff.; + settlement at Casa Guidi, 365, 372; + birth of a son, 395; + her name suggested for the Laureateship, 449, 452; + illness, 456, 458; + travels, ii. 1 ff.; + publication of 'Casa Guidi Windows,' 2; + visit to England, 13 ff.; + residence in Paris, 22 ff.; + the _Coup d'etat_ in France, 30 ff.; + second visit to London, 76; + verses by, 81; + return to Paris, 89; + to Florence, 91; + first visit to Rome, 146; + severe illness, 202; + visit to England, 205 ff.; + to Paris, 215 ff.; + last visit to England, 235 ff.; + publication of 'Aurora Leigh,' 240; + carnival in Florence, 256 ff.; + visit to Bagni di Lucca, 267 ff.; + last visit to France, 280 ff.; + winter in Rome, 292 ff.; + the war with Austria, 305 ff.; + summer at Siena, 319 ff.; + severe illness, 325; + winter in Rome, 352 ff.; + publication of 'Poems before Congress,' 363; + last summer at Siena, 400; + last winter in Rome, 408 ff.; + death, 450 ff. + Portraits: + by Reade, ii. 144; + by Miss Fox, ii. 151; + by Leighton, ii. 310; + by Field Talfourd, ii. 404; + bust by Story, ii. 448 _note_. + Her knowledge of Greek literature, i. 101, 102, 242; + opinions on religion, i. 115, 127, 159, 247, ii. 156, 420 ff.; + on Roman Catholicism, ii. 5; + on versification, i. 140, 156, 183; + on female poets, i. 229-233; + on Greek scholarship, i. 260; + on mesmerism, i. 255-259; + on marriage, i. 339, ii. 72, 73, 222 ff.; + on communism, i. 363; + on socialism, i. 467; + protest against publication of juvenile performances, i. 454, 455, + ii. 139; + views on spiritualism, ii. 92, 104, 117, 125, 157 ff. (and see + _s.v._); + on women's work and position, ii. 189, 254, 255; + on poetry and the public, ii. 200; + on slavery, ii. 220; + on growing old, ii. 140; + on death, ii. 177, 289, 291; + on English self-satisfaction, ii. 351. + Works: + 'Aurora Leigh,' ii. 91, 195, 205, 228, 229, 240 ff., 302; + 'Battle of Marathon,' i. 3, 5; + 'Bertha in the Lane,' i. 247; + 'Casa Guidi Windows,' i. 348, ii. 1-3, 5, 7, 12, 13; + 'Catarina to Camoens,' ii. 200; + 'Chaucer Modernised,' i. 84, 88; + 'Child's Death at Florence,' i. 437; + 'Crowned and Buried,' i. 82, 161, 222; + 'Cry of the Children,' i. 153, 156; + 'Cry of the Human,' i. 120, 125; + 'Curse for a Nation,' ii. 364, 366, 378 ff.; + 'Dead Pan,' i. 109, 127-131, 136, 177; + 'De Profundis,' ii. 414; + 'Drama of Exile,' i. 164, 168, 170, 171, 177, 181, 185, 186; + 'English Poets,' i. 97, 105-107; + 'Essay on Mind,' i. 4, 5, 70, 94, 187; + 'Flush,' i. 153; + 'Greek Christian Poets,' i. 96-105; + 'Hector in the Garden,' i. 123; + 'House of Clouds,' i. 89, 153, 462; + 'The Island,' i. 49; + 'Isobel's Child,' i. 73, 200; + 'Lady Geraldine's Courtship,' i. 177, 181, 199, 201, 204, 211; + 'Lay of the Brown Rosary,' i. 149, 150, 161; + 'Lay of the Rose,' i. 82; + 'Lord Walter's Wife,' ii. 443; + 'Lost Bower,' i. 124, 195, 200; + 'A Musical Instrument,' ii. 377, 406; + 'My Doves,' i. 461; + 'New Spirit of the Age,' i. 163; + 'North and the South,' ii. 446; + 'Poems,' of 1844, i. 164, 165, 180; + 'Poems,' collected edition, i. 427, 436; + 'Poems before Congress,' ii. 356, 361, 362, 363 ff., 368, 374, 399; + 'Poet's Vow,' i. 36-39, 43, 49; + 'A Portrait,' i. 190; + 'Prometheus Bound,' i. 16, 18, 21, 135, 188; + 'Psyche Apocalypte,' i. 84; + 'Rhyme of the Duchess May,' i. 186, 247; + 'Romance of the Ganges,' i. 52; + 'Romaunt of Margret,' i. 36, 49, 64; + 'Romaunt of the Page,' i. 61, 62; + 'Runaway Slave,' i. 315, 462; + 'Seamew,' i. 38, 461; + 'The Seraphim,' i. 38, 39, 44, 45, 49, 56, 62-73, 110, 185, 188, + 193; + 'Song for the Ragged Schools,' ii. 185; + 'Sonnets from the Portuguese,' i. 316, 317; + 'Sounds,' i. 73; + 'Stanzas on Mrs. Hemans,' i. 33; + 'Tale of Villafranca,' ii. 333 ff.; + 'Vision of Poets,' i. 157; + 'Wine of Cyprus,' i. 178, 183 + +Barrett, George, brother of E.B.B., i. 2, 29, 32, 33, 35, 37, 78, 151, + 166, 242, ii. 19, 263, 264 + +Barrett, afterwards Cook, Henrietta, sister of E.B.B., i. 2, 15, 17, 18, + 19, 20, 21, 28, 33, 41, 46, 52, 53, 55, 75, 76, 77, 242, 294, 338, + 443 ff., ii. 18, 207, 210, 239, 376, 400; + illness and death, ii. 401, 405, 414 ff. + +Barrett, Henry, brother of E.B.B., i. 2, 27, 55, 189, 242, ii. 18 + +Barrett, Octavius, brother of E.B.B., i. 2, 8, 15, 20, 173, 271, 275, + ii. 18 + +Barrett, Septimus ('Sette'), brother of E.B.B., i. 2, 11, 14, 20, ii. 18 + +Bate, Miss Gerardine (Mrs. Macpherson), i. 285, 310 + +Bayley, Miss, i. 262, 362, ii. 232, 233, 240 + +Bellosguardo, ii. 125, 259 + +Beranger, ii. 49, 230, 231 + +'Blackwood's Magazine,' i. 181, 210, 213, ii. 253, 255, 387; + poems by Mrs. Browning in, i. 304, 307, 314 + +Blagden, Miss Isa, i. 456, ii. 266, 267; + letters to, i. 456, 467, ii. 3, 98, 124, 144, 243, 283, 290, 302, 308, + 320, 339, 365, 371, 373, 375, 389, 411, 414, 418, 428, 431, 447 + +Bowring, Sir John, ii. 410, 412, 440 + +Boyd, Hugh Stuart, i. 9, 17, 20; + death, i. 368; + letters to, i. 23, 24, 29, 32, 37, 38, 39, 44, 45, 57, 60, 61, 68, 69, + 70, 72, 73, 77, 79, 81, 88, 89, 91, 93, 95-107, 109, 114-120, 124, + 125, 138-142, 152, 154, 171, 173, 175, 176, 179, 183, 184, 192, 200, + 225, 242, 246, 250, 264, 270, 279, 314, 330 + +Boyd, Mrs. H.S., letter to, i. 8; + death, i. 29 + +Boyle, Miss, i. 347, 352 + +Bracken, Miss A., ii. 267, 271 + +Braun, Dr., ii. 195 + +Braun, Mdme., _see_ Thomson + +Brizieux, Auguste, ii. 101 + +Bronte, Charlotte, her 'Jane Eyre,' i. 360, 384, 432, 435; + 'Shirley,' i. 429, 430, 442; + 'Villette,' ii. 139, 142 + +Brotherton, Mrs., medium, ii. 157 + +Browning, Miss, ii. 121; + letters to i. 321, 369, 396, 397, 402, 408, 432, 477, ii. 93, 142, + 161, 167, 179, 202, 239, 241, 250, 256, 267, 268, 294, 295, 297, + 307, 310, 313, 317, 319, 341, 352, 368, 396, 433, 440, 448 + +Browning, Mrs., senior, her death, i. 396 ff. + +Browning, R., senior, ii. 162, 314 + +Browning, Robert, i. 2, 5, 84, 104, 131, 133, 143, 150, 161, 163, 214, + 236, 238, 246, 254, 275, 278 and _passim_ thereafter; + letters from, i. 334, 356, 379, 417, 423, 470, ii. 263, 267, 295, 302, + 450; + portrait, by Reade, ii. 143; + by Fisher, ii. 160, 163; + by Page, ii. 171, 233, 316; + by Leighton, ii. 310; + bust by Story, ii. 448; + early engraving, i. 335; + American appreciation of his work, ii. 436; + want of appreciation in England, ii. 370. + Works: + 'Bells and Pomegranates,' i. 320; + 'A Blot in the 'Scutcheon,' i. 391, 393; + 'Christmas Eve and Easter Day,' i. 427, 432, 446, 449; + 'Colombe's Birthday,' i. 264, ii. 91, 103, 112, 115, 116, 119; + 'A Guardian Angel,' i. 380; + 'In a Balcony,' ii. 121; + Introduction to Shelley's 'Letters,' ii. 52; + 'Men and Women,' ii. 205, 209, 218; + 'Pippa Passes,' i. 264; + 'Poems,' new edition, 1849, i. 361, 391; + 'Sordello,' i. 264, ii. 228; + 'Strafford,' ii. 436 + +Browning, Robert Wiedeman Barrett ('Penini'), i. 5, 395, and _passim_ + thereafter + +Brunnyng, Robert, i. 371 + +Bulwer, Edward Lytton, afterwards first Lord Lytton, i. 16, 17, 36, 212, + ii. 103, 145, 207 + +Burges, George, i. 102, 168 + +Byron, Lord, his poetry, i. 113, 115 + + +Calvinism, thoughts on, i. 115 + +Carlyle, Thomas, i. 99, 136, 194, 199. 315, 338, ii. 16, 25, 27, 210 + +Carlyle, Mrs., ii. 78 + +Cartwright, W.C., ii. 346 + +Casa Guidi, i. 365, 372 + +Castellani, ii. 354 + +Cavour, ii. 360, 384; + death, ii. 449 + +Chalmers, Dr., i. 53 + +Chambers, Dr., i. 57, 61, 68, 69, 71, 72, 269 + +Chasles, M. Philaret, ii. 43 + +Chaucer, Geoffrey, i. 128 + +Chorley, H.F., i. 71, 180, 187, 207, 307, 311, 320, 453-455, ii. 137, + 173, 183; + his 'Pomfret,' i. 271; + 'Roccabella,' ii. 350; + letters to, i. 191, 229, 230, 234, 255, 257, 271, 375, 393, 420, 432, + 446, ii. 79, 127, 334, 350, 378, 380 + +Clive, Mrs. Archer, ii. 154 + +Clough, A.H., i. 426, 429 + +Cobbe, Miss, ii. 377, 398 + +Cobden, R., i. 223, 327, ii. 356, 387 + +Cocks, Lady Margaret, i. 43 + +Coleridge, S.T., i. 110, 141 + +Coleridge, Mrs., i. 145 + +Commeline, Miss, letters to, i. 7, 26, 53, 240 + +Como, ii. 9 + +Cook, Surtees, i. 338, 443 + +Cook, Mrs. Surtees, _see_ Barrett, Henrietta + +'Cornhill Magazine,' ii. 377, 423, 443 ff. + +Corn Law League, i. 220, 223, 239, 240 + +Correggio, ii. 9 + +Crimea, war in the, ii. 179, 181, 183, 186, 189, 203 + +Crosse, Andrew, i. 72 + +Crystal Palace, the, ii. 24 + +Cumming, Dr., ii. 194 + +Cushman, Miss, i. 320, ii. 90, 128 + +Cyprus, wine of, i, 175, 179, 248, 250, 315 + + +Dacre, Lady, i. 51, 68, 72 + +'Daily News,' the, i. 275 + +Dall' Ongaro, ii. 374, 375, 430, 447 + +Da Vinci, Leonardo, ii. 9 + +Dawson, Mr., ii. 429 + +De Quincey, i. 161 + +Dickens, Charles, i. 121, 123, 275, ii. 32, 229, 395 + +Dilke, C.W., editor of the 'Athenaeum,' i. 97, 107, 117, 134, 228, 446 + +Disraeli, Benjamin, his 'Coningsby,' i. 203, 205 + +Dryden, John, i. 107, 110 + +'Dublin Review,' the, i. 242 + +Dumas, Alexandre, i. 2, 319, 357, 419, 425, 462, ii. 40, 64, 86, 99, + 182; + his 'Monte Cristo,' ii. 301, 304 + +Dumas, A., fils, 'La Dame aux Camelias,' ii. 66, 106 + + +Eagles, Mr., i. 201, 211 + +Eastlake, Lady, ii. 27 + +Eckley, Mrs., ii. 150, 296, 298 + +Elgin, Lady, ii. 24, 26, 221, 286, 290, 368 + +Eliot, George, ii. 338, 388, 400 + +England, politics in, ii. 278, 316 + +'Essays and Reviews,' ii. 427 + +Eugenie, Empress, ii. 101 + +'Examiner,' the, i. 64, 70, 180, 199, 204 + +Exhibition of 1851, the, i. 466 + + +Fano, i. 380 + +Fanshawe, Miss, i. 464 + +Faraday, Professor, on spiritualism, ii. 122 ff., 128, 247 + +Faucit, Helen (Lady Martin), ii. 103, 119 + +Fauveau, Mdlle. de, i. 360, 378 + +Ferdinando IV., Duke of Tuscany, ii. 340 + +Ferucci, Professor, i. 303 + +'Finden's Tableaux,' i. 52, 61 + +Fisher, A., artist, ii. 160, 163 + +Flaubert, G., 'Madame Bovary,' ii. 151, 304 + +Florence, i. 326, 331, 343, ii. 96; + the Tuscan National Guard, i. 344, 346; + revolutions, i. 400 ff., 405 + +Flush, Miss Barrett's dog, i. 100, 105, 107, 149, 154, 155, 207, 224, + 298, 307, 324, 342, 346, 357, 382 + +Forster, John, i. 180, 204, 329, ii. 16, 186, 286; + letter to, ii. 383 + +Fox, Miss, ii. 151 + +France, the _Coup d'etat_, ii. 32 ff.; + politics in, i. 363, 368, 374, 383, 386, 389, 400, ii. 42, 48, 61, 70, + 230; + war with Austria, 305 ff. + +Fuller, Margaret (Mme. Ossoli), i. 428, 445; + death, i. 459 ff.; + her character, ii. 59 + + +Gaeta, siege of, ii. 413, 418 + +Garibaldi, Giuseppe, ii. 318, 338, 398, 402, 416, 441 + +Gaskell, Mrs., ii. 259; + her 'Mary Barton,' i. 471, 472; + 'Ruth,' ii. 139, 141 + +Genoa, ii. 94, 95 + +Ghirlandaio, i. 448 + +Gibson, J., artist, ii. 148 + +Girardin, Emile de, ii. 30, 38 + +Goethe, i. 474 + +Graham-Clarke (afterwards Barrett), Mary, + mother of E.B.B., i. 2, 6, 7 + +Gregory Nazianzen, i. 45, 92, 94, 97, 98, 100, 104, 146; + his 'De Virginitate,' i. 78, 92 + +Gresonowsky, Dr., ii. 321, 326, 341, 355 + +'Guardian,' the, ii. 13 + +Guercino, i. 380, 441 + + +Hanford, Mrs., i. 33, 87 + +Harding, Dr., i. 401, 458, 462, ii. 183 + +Havre, ii. 287 ff. + +Haworth, Miss E.F., i. 322, ii. 21, 242; + letters to, ii. 21, 118, 135, 149, 222, 234, 266, 272, 273, 281, 285, + 322, 348, 354, 386, 393, 405, 408, 420, 424, 450 + +Hawthorne, Nathaniel, ii. 132, 304, 307, 310 + +Haydon, B.R., i. 146; + his portrait of Wordsworth, i. 112; + suicide, i. 278, 279; + biography, ii. 161 + +Hazard, Mr., ii. 355 + +Heaton, Miss, ii. 150, 151 + +Hedley, Mr., i. 359 + +Hemans, Mrs., i. 232, 234 + +Hesiod, translations from, i. 262 + +Hillard, Mr., i. 378 + +Homer, i. 118, 125 + +Hook, Theodore, i. 44, 161, 253 + +Hope End, home of Mrs. Browning, i. 3 + +Horne, R. II., i. 3, 5, 36, 74, 78, 80, 81, 84, 85, 104, 133, 153, 174, + 182, 199, 214, 308, 339, 345, 353, 368, 431, 452, ii. 31; + his 'Orion,' i. 145, 148, 150; + 'The New Spirit of the Age,' i. 163 + +Hosmer, Miss, ii. 166, 168, 344, 388, 392 + +Howe, Mrs., ii. 166, 170 + +Howitt, Mary, i. 320 + +Howitt, William, i. 216, ii. 403, 406 + +Hugo, Victor, i. 123, ii. 90, 230, 260-262 + +Hume (_al._ Home), spiritualistic medium, ii. 196, 201, 226, 266, 280 + +Hunt, Leigh, i. 84, 216, 452, ii. 253 + + +Italian Literature, i. 309, 312 + +Italy, politics in, i. 348, 357, 359, 373, 383, 386, 388, 400, 409, 416, + 439, ii. 96, 114, 311, 326 ff., 340, 346, 361, 367, 372, 382, 389, + 402, 413 + + +Jameson, Mrs., i. 104, 194, 199, 216, 217, 226, 238, 239, 284, 285, 296, + 298, 299, 301, 307, 326, 327, ii. 16, 196; + her 'Legends of the Monastic Orders,' i. 440; + death, ii. 365; + letters to, i. 227, 273, 328, 354 376, 414, 421, 440, 448, ii. 32, 57, + 65, 80, 107, 109, 146, 187, 208, 220, 227, 228, 232, 236, 245, 251, + 258, 269, 270, 345, 360, 364 + +Jerrold, Douglas, i. 203, 239 + +Jewsbury, Miss, i. 465, ii. 27 + +John Mauropus, i. 103 + +John of Damascus, i. 97 + +John of Euchaita, i. 104 + + +Keats, John, i. 188 + +Kemble, Fanny (Mrs. Butler), i. 466, ii. 16, 154, 158, 159, 167, 196 + +Kenyon, John, i. 2, 32, 51, 58, 67, 68, 102, 104, 112, 121, 153, 166, + 172, 173, 202, 203, 205, 233, 265, 288, 290, 295, 297, 308, 310, 311, + 353, 375, 420, 426, ii. 16, 77, 87, 197, 223, 224, 232, 233, 235, 238, + 239; + death, ii. 241, 245; + legacy to Mr. and Mrs. Browning, ii. 241, 246, 248; + letters to, i. 58, 59, 108, 127, 129, 136, 143, 145, 167-169, 187, + 203, 207, 209, 211, 223, 239, 245, 248, 249, 361, ii. 7, 52, 89, 95, + 115 + +Kinglake, A.W., ii. 186, 210, 429; + his 'E[=o]then,' i. 216 + +Kingsley, Charles, ii. 83, 85, 86, 134 + +Kinney, Mr. W.B., ii. 126 + +Kinney, Mrs. W.B., letter to, ii. 244 + +Kirkup, Mr., i. 440, 448, ii. 253, 395 + +Knowles, Sheridan, i. 43, 47, 48 + +Kossuth, ii. 115 + + +Lamartine, i. 375, 425, ii. 30, 57, 64, 71, 133 + +Lamoriciere, General, ii. 368, 372, 377, 393 + +Landon, L.E., i. 232 + +Landor, Walter Savage, i. 43, 47, 55, 117, 137, ii. 78, 186, 286, 323, + 324, 336, 343, 349, 353, 395, 397, 403; + verses to Robert Browning, i. 275 + +Langland, W. (Piers Plowman), i. 105 + +Leighton, Frederic, ii. 197, 210, 233, 452 + +Lever, Charles, i. 413, 417, 465, 473 + +Lockhart, J.G., ii. 154, 159, 163 + +London, residence of the Barretts in, i. 31-56 (74 Gloucester Place), + 56-74, 91-279 (50 Wimpole Street) + +Longfellow, H.W., i. 454 + +Louis Philippe, King of the French, i. 203, 206 + +Lowell, J.R., i. 251 + +Lucca, Bagni di, ii. 121 ff., 267 ff., 411 ff. + +Lucerne, ii. 10 + +Luther, ii. 426 + +Lynch, Miss, ii. 144 + +Lytton, Sir Edward, _see_ Bulwer + +Lytton, Robert, ii. 97, 99, 103, 113, 125, 126, 142, 145; + illness, ii. 267 ff. + + +Macauley, T.B., i. 209, 408 + +Maclise, D., i. 119 + +Macpherson, James, and Ossian, i. 118, 126 + +Macready, W., ii. 229, 393 + +MacSwiney, Mr., i. 9, 73 + +Mahony, F., _see_ Prout + +Manning, Dr. (afterwards Cardinal), ii. 410 + +Mario, Jessie (_nee_ White), ii. 277, 321, 338, 347, 442 + +Marlowe, Christopher, i. 107 + +Marsh, Mr., American Minister at Constantinople, ii. 102, 105 + +Martin, James, letters to, i. 122, 219. (_See also_ Martin, Mrs., + letters to) + +Martin, Mrs. James, letters to, i. 6, 10, 13, 16, 18, 21, 27, 33, 41, + 46, 50, 75, 85, 86, 110, 120, 137, 143, 147, 165, 189, 193, 196, 202, + 205, 215, 216, 221, 236, 237, 251, 266, 267, 274, 276, 277, 286, 300, + 325, 335, 371, 387, 404, 437, 475, ii. 13, 17, 19, 34, 41, 74, 83, + 113, 140, 180, 184, 192, 211, 212, 225, 236, 248, 254, 263, 264, 277, + 324, 357, 400, 415, 438 + +Martineau, Harriet, i. 59, 151, 161, 169, 194, 196, 199, 200, 202, 205, + 212, 217, 219, 220, 225, 227, 256, 276, 352, 355, 387, ii. 403 + +Mathew, Mrs., i. 25 + +Mathews, Cornelius, letters to, i. 132, 198, 213 + +Maurice, F.D., ii. 177 + +Maynooth, the grant question, i. 252 + +Mazzini, G., ii. 78, 109, 115, 277, 279 + +Mesmerism, i. 196, 200, 202, 205, 212, 217, 219, 220, 236, 238, 255-259 + +'Metropolitan Magazine,' the, i. 243, 245, 248 + +Milan, ii. 9 + +Mill, John Stuart, i. 467 + +Milnes, Monckton, i. 217, 308, ii. 79, 84, 134, 230, 376 + +Milsand, M. Joseph, ii. 29, 43, 108, 173, 242, 250, 275, 284, 314, 399, + 449 + +Mitford, Miss M.R., i. 32, 43, 46, 47, 50, 51, 52, 55, 66, 78, 83, 104, + 108, 111, 131, 137, 153, 154, 161, 167, 205, 220, ii. 12; + death, ii. 191; + character and genius, ii. 216, 217; + her 'Otto,' i. 47, 48; + 'Recollections,' i. 453, 464, ii. 43, 45 ff., 58, 60; + 'Atherton,' ii. 165, 171, 173, 175; + dramas, ii. 175; + letters to, i. 67, 297, 304, 311, 318, 339, 345, 349, 356, 358, 365, + 373, 379, 384, 399, 410, 423, 427, 430, 434, 443, 450, 453, 458, + 463, 470, ii. 5, 25, 28, 38, 45, 49, 62, 69, 76, 77, 84, 87, 100, + 105, 122, 132, 152, 159, 164, 169, 171, 174, 176 + +Mohl, Mme., ii. 24, 42, 66, 221 + +Montgomery, Robert, i. 265 + +Moore, Thomas, ii. 102, 141 + +Mulock, Miss, letters to, ii. 44, 67, 72; ii. 79 + +Murray, Miss, i. 253 + +Musset, Alfred de, ii. 64, 100 + + +Napoleon, Louis (Napoleon III.), i. 375, 386, 389, 400, 406, 419, 428, + 429, ii. 22, 30, 33 ff., 51, 54, 90, 110, 114, 181, 219, 230, 276, + 306, 307, 309, 317, 323, 326, 327, 331, 335, 339, 373, 383 ff., 393, + 413, 429, 433, 440; + letter to, ii. 261 + +Napoleon, Prince, ii. 437 + +Napoleon Buonaparte (Napoleon I.), i. 82 + +Newman, J.H., i. 210 + +'New Monthly Magazine,' i. 36, 37, 40, 44, 49 + +'New Quarterly,' the, i. 229 + +Nightingale, Florence, ii. 188 + +Nonnus, translations from, i. 261 + +'North American Review,' i. 109 + +Novara, battle of, i. 409 + + +O'Connell, Daniel, i. 50, 195 + +Ogilvy, Mr. and Mrs., i. 440, 445, ii. 4 + +Orsay, Count d', i. 222 + +Orsini, his attempt on Napoleon III., ii. 276 ff. + +Ossian, i. 117-120, 125, 126 + +Ossoli, Mme., _see_ Fuller + + +Padua, ii. 9 + +Page, W., artist, ii. 128, 148, 155, 171, 307, 315, 388 + +Pantaleonie, Diomed, ii. 389, 432 + +Paris, i. 299, ii. 11, 23, 65, 281, 284, 285 + +Parker, Theodore, ii. 355, 388 + +Patmore, Coventry, ii. 112, 134, 138, 184, 255 + +Paulus Silentiarius, i. 103, 104 + +Petrarch, ii. 9 + +Phelps, S., i. 391, 393 + +Phillpotts, Henry, Bishop of Exeter, i. 50, 74 + +Pisa, i. 302, 330 + +Pisida, George, i. 103 + +Pius IX., Pope, i. 344, 391, 392, 420 + +Plato, i. 101, 119, 170 + +Poe, E.A., i. 249 + +Pope, Alexander, i. 107 + +Powers, Hiram, sculptor, i. 334, 347, 378, ii. 97, 120, 131 + +Procter, Mr. (Barry Cornwall), ii. 16 + +Prout, Father, i. 355, 385, 392, ii. 286 + +'Punch,' i. 203 + + +'Quarterly Review,' i. 65 + +Quinet, Edgar, ii. 101 + + +Ravenna, i. 381 + +Reade, Charles, ii. 271, 357 + +Reynolds, Mrs., i. 351 + +Ristori, Mme., ii. 228 + +Rogers, Samuel, i. 190, 221, 222, ii. 16 + +Romagnoli, Ferdinando, ii. 208, 251 + +Rome, ii. 154, 165, 352 ff. + +Rossi, Count Pellegrino, i. 392 + +Rousseau, J.J., ii. 293 + +Ruskin, John, i. 384, 386, ii. 87, 169, 170, 210, 253, 268, 414; + letters to, ii. 190, 198, 214, 216, 299, 302, 315 + +Russell, Lord John, ii. 109 + +Russell, Odo, ii. 309, 332, 339, 359, 376 + + +Ste.-Beuve, C.A., ii. 101 + +Salvini, ii. 319 + +Sand, George, i. 233, 357, 363, 425, 428, ii. 26, 29, 39, 50, 51, 55-57, + 59, 60, 63, 66, 70, 76, 222, 230 + +Sardinia, war with Austria, i. 374, 409 + +Sartoris, Mrs. (Adelaide Kemble), ii. 154, 159, 167, 179, 182 + +'Saturday Review,' ii. 365, 375, 387, 403 + +Sayers, Tom, ii. 365, 387, 400 + +Scott, Sir Walter, i. 126 + +Scully, Dr., i. 76, 86, 87, 90, 111 + +Seward, Anna, i. 231 + +Sewell, Miss, ii. 429, 430 + +Sidmouth, residence of the Barretts at, i. 10-30 + +Siena, i. 456 ff., ii. 319 ff., 342 + +Sigourney, Mrs., i. 251 + +Slavery, abolition of, in West Indies, i. 21, 23 + +Smith, Alexander, ii. 112, 120, 134, 138, 161 + +Soulie, Frederic, i. 387, 466; + his 'Saturnin Fichet,' i. 318 + +Southey, Mrs., i. 138 + +Southey, Robert, i. 170 + +Spiritualism, ii. 92, 99, 102, 117, 120, 121, 122, 125, 133, 137, 149, + 157, 158, 193, 247, 356, 395, 421 ff. + +Stanhope, Lord, ii. 79 + +Story, Mr. and Mrs. W.W., ii. 130, 132, 143, 294, 334, 411, 446; + death of their child, ii. 147, 152 + +Stowe, Mrs. Beecher, ii. 107, 110, 183, 258, 408, 409, 421, 424 + +Stuart, Mr., i. 416, 422, 441, 448 + +Sue, Eugene, ii. 31, 40, 41 + +Sumner, Charles, ii. 286 + +Swedenborg, ii. 21, 145, 156, 424 + +Synesius, i. 96, 100, 104 + + +Talfourd, Serjeant, i. 133, 197, 393, ii. 31; + his 'Ion,' i. 43, 47, 48 + +Tennyson, Alfred, i. 84, 150, 157, 160, 161, 215, 264, 324, 339, 345, + 434, 456, ii. 15, 84, 86, 88, 205, 213, 419; + his 'Poems,' of 1842, i. 108, 109; + 'Locksley Hall,' i. 204; + 'The Princess,' i. 361, 367, 429, 431; + 'In Memoriam,' i. 453, 465, 471, 472; + 'Maud,' ii. 209, 213 + +Tennyson, Frederick, ii. 99, 112, 113, 123, 125, 126 + +Terni, ii. 152, 295, 296 + +Teynham, Lord, i. 243 + +Thackeray, W.M., ii. 148, 154, 253, 377, 391, 408; + his 'Vanity Fair,' i. 401; + letters from, ii. 444, 446; + letter to, ii. 445 + +Thierry, M., ii. 75 + +Thiers, M., ii. 33 + +Thomson, Miss (Mme. Braun) i. 58, 431; + letters to, i. 260, 261, ii. 195, 288 + +'Times,' the, ii. 279, 317, 319, 329 + +Tommaseo, N., inscription in honour of Mrs. Browning, ii. 452 + +Torquay, Miss Barrett's residence at, i. 74-90 + +Trollope, Anthony, ii. 377, 391 + +Trollope, Mrs., i. 17, 476, ii. 173, 177, 226 + +Tyndal, Mrs. Acton, i. 351 + + +Vallombrosa, i. 332 ff. + +Vaucluse, i. 285, 323 + +Venice, ii. 6, 8 + +Ventnor, ii. 236, 239 + +Viardot, Mme., ii. 75, 76 + +Victoria, Queen, i. 222, 253 + +Villafranca, conference of, ii. 319, 320, 323, 324, 330 + + +Wales, H.R.H. the Prince of, ii. 309, 312 + +Ware, Mr., i. 378 + +Webbe, General W., i. 451 + +Wellington, Duke of, ii. 163 + +'Westminster Review,' the, i. 194, 199, 215 + +Westwood, Thomas, i. 94, 473; + letters to, i. 94, 114, 149, 150, 157. 159, 160, 162, 174, 175, 185, + 190, 224, 244, 253, 264, 323, 342, 468, ii. 138, 155 + +Wetherell, Elizabeth, her 'Queechy,' ii. 134 + +Wilde, Mr., ii. 344 + +Wilson, Mrs. Browning's maid, i. 283, 319, &c. + +Wiseman, Mrs., i. 380 + +Wordsworth, William, i. 43, 47, 55, 60, 84, 160, 161, 252, 253, 267; + death, i. 449; + letter from, i. 113; + his poetry, i. 110, 113, 119, 138, 141, 201; + his portrait by Haydon, i. 112, 113; + Miss Barrett's sonnet on it, i. 113 + + +PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE LONDON + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Letters of Elizabeth Barrett +Browning, Volume II, by Elizabeth Barrett Browning + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LETTERS OF ELIZABETH *** + +***** This file should be named 16646.txt or 16646.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/6/4/16646/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Lisa Reigel and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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