The Complete Works of Robert Browning: Poems, Plays, Letters & Biographies in One Edition. Robert Browning
him stumble.” As has been seen, in Mrs. Browning’s letters, she always shared her husband’s enthusiasm for Milsand, and the latter had said that he felt in her “that shining superiority always concealing itself under her unconscious goodness and lovely simplicity.”
On Sundays at St. Aubin’s, Browning frequently accompanied Milsand to the little chapel of Château-Blagny, for Protestant worshipers. From his cottage Browning could gaze across the bay to the lighthouse at Havre, and he “saw with a thrill” the spot where he once passed a summer with his wife.
Italian recollections sometimes rose before his inner vision. To Isa Blagden, who had gone to Siena, he wrote that he could “see the fig-tree under which Ba sat, reading and writing, poor old Landor’s oak opposite.”
Of Milsand he wrote to a friend: “I never knew or shall know his like among men,” and to Milsand, who had assisted him in some proof-reading, he wrote acknowledging his “invaluable assistance,” and said:
“The fact is, in the case of a writer with my peculiarities and habits, somebody quite ignorant of what I may have meant to write, and only occupied with what is really written, ought to supervise the thing produced. I won’t attempt to thank you, dearest friend.... The poem will reach you in about a fortnight. I look forward with all confidence and such delight to finding us all together again in the autumn. All love to your wife and daughter. R. B.”
Milsand, writing of Browning in the Revue, revealed his high appreciation of the poet when he said: “Browning suggests a power even greater than his achievement. He speaks like a spirit who is able to do that which to past centuries has been almost impossible.”
It was St. Aubin that furnished Browning with material for his poem, “Red Cotton Night-cap Country,” the title of which was suggested by Miss Thackeray (now Lady Ritchie) who had a cottage there one summer, near those of Browning and Milsand. Browning and his sister occupied one of the most primitive of cottages, but the location was beautiful, perched on the cliff of St. Aubin, and commanded a changeful panorama of sea and sky. “The sitting-room door opened to the garden and the sea beyond—a fresh-swept bare floor, a table, three straw chairs, one book upon the table,—the only book he had with him. The bedrooms were as bare as the sitting-room, but there was a little dumb piano standing in a corner, on which he used to practice in the early morning. Mr. Browning declared they were perfectly satisfied with their little house; that his brains, squeezed as dry as a sponge, were only ready for fresh air.”[12] As all Browning readers will remember, “Red Cotton Night-cap Country” is dedicated to Miss Thackeray.
In the succeeding autumn Browning passed some weeks at Fontainebleau, where he was absorbed in reading Æschylus, and in making an especial study of the great dramatist. It was perhaps at this time that he conceived the idea of translating the Agamemnon, which, he says in his preface, “was commanded of me by my venerated friend Thomas Carlyle, and rewarded it will be if I am permitted to dignify it by the prefatory insertion of his dear and noble name.”
Bust of Robert Browning, by his Son,
Robert Barrett Browning.
In the possession of the sculptor at his villa near Florence.
Before the close of this year Browning had also complied with a request from Tauchnitz to prepare for publication a selection from the poems of Mrs. Browning. This Tauchnitz Edition of Mrs. Browning will always retain its interest as representing her husband’s favorites among her poems. “The Rhyme of the Duchess May,” with its artistic symmetry and exquisite execution, was of course included. This poem may be said to exhibit all Mrs. Browning’s poetic characteristics.
Encouraged by Millais, Robert Barrett Browning had seriously entered on the study of painting, his first master being M. Heyermans in Antwerp. In 1875 Frederick Lehmann had expressed high appreciation of a work of the young artist, the study of a monk absorbed in reading a book,—a picture that he liked so well as subsequently to purchase it. Another picture by Barrett Browning was entitled “The Armorer,” and found a place in the Royal Academy of that year, and was purchased by a Member of Parliament who was also something of a connoisseur in art. In this season was inaugurated the annual “private view” of the paintings of the poet’s son, which were exhibited in a house in Queen’s Gate Gardens and attracted much attention. In his son’s success Browning took great pride and pleasure. On the sale of the picture to the M. P., Browning wrote to Millais:
19, Warwick Crescent, May 10, 1878.
My Beloved Millais,—You will be gladdened in the kind heart of you to learn that Pen’s picture has been bought by Mr. Fielder, a perfect stranger to both of us. You know what your share has been in his success, and it cannot but do a world of good to a young fellow whose fault was never that of being insensible to an obligation.
Ever Affectionately Yours,
Robert Browning.[13]
In 1871 Browning had been appointed Life Governor of the University of London, an honor that he particularly appreciated as indicating the interest of students in his poetry. In the late winter of 1872, after an absence of thirty years, Alfred Domett again appeared. He had vanished
“like a ghost at break of day,”
and like a ghost he returned, calling at once on his friend in Warwick Crescent. A letter from Miss Browning to Domett explains itself:
19, Warwick Crescent,
Upper Westbourne Terrace, Feb. 1872.
My Dear Mr. Domett,—My brother was so sorry to miss you yesterday; he is a man of many engagements, and unfortunately is engaged every evening next week, or I would ask you to join our family dinner as soon as possible—but meanwhile, as he is impatient to see you, will you be very kind and come to lunch with us on Monday at one o’clock? We shall be delighted to meet you. If you cannot come on Monday, name some other morning.
Always Yours Truly,
Sarianna Browning.
The old friendship between Browning and Domett was renewed with constant intercourse and interchange of delightful letters. Milsand was in the habit of passing a part of every spring with Browning in his home in Warwick Crescent, and with the arrival of Domett a warm and sincere friendship united all three.
Once, in Scotland, as the guest of Ernest Benzon, when Browning missed part of a visit from Milsand, the poet said: “No words can express the love I have for Milsand, increasingly precious as he is.” The Benzons were at that time in the hills above Loch Tummel, where Jowett was staying, Swinburne also with the Master of Balliol. Had there been a phonograph to register the conversation of such a trio as Jowett, Browning, and Swinburne, its records would be eagerly sought.
A fragmentary record, indeed, remains in a note made by Edwin Harrison, who was with Jowett at this time. In his diary Mr. Harrison recorded:
“R. B. was in the neighborhood, staying at Little Milton, above Loch Tummel, where he was perpetrating ‘Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau’ at the rate of so many lines a day, neither more nor less. He walked over to see Jowett one afternoon, very keen about a fanciful rendering he had imagined for lines in the Alcestis. A few evenings later we met him and his son at dinner at Altaine House, by the foot of the loch. You may be sure that where Jowett and Browning were, the conversation was animated and interesting.”
In “Balaustion’s Adventure” the poet seemed to take captive the popular appreciation of the day, for more than three thousand copies had been sold within the first six months, and his sister told Domett that she regarded it as the most swiftly appreciated poem of all her brother’s works. Certainly it is one of the most alluring of Browning’s works,—this delightful treatment of the interwoven life of mortals and of the immortal gods.