The Complete Works of Robert Browning: Poems, Plays, Letters & Biographies in One Edition. Robert Browning
He would whistle softly to the lizards basking on the low walls which border the roads, to try his old power of attracting them.
On the 15th of October he wrote to Mrs. Skirrow, after some preliminary description:
Then — such a view over the whole Lombard plain; not a site in view, or approximate view at least, without its story. Autumn is now painting all the abundance of verdure, — figs, pomegranates, chestnuts, and vines, and I don’t know what else, — all in a wonderful confusion, — and now glowing with all the colours of the rainbow. Some weeks back, the little town was glorified by the visit of a decent theatrical troop who played in a theatre inside the old palace of Queen Catharine Cornaro — utilized also as a prison in which I am informed are at present full five if not six malefactors guilty of stealing grapes, and the like enormities. Well, the troop played for a fortnight together exceedingly well — high tragedy and low comedy — and the stage-box which I occupied cost 16 francs. The theatre had been out of use for six years, for we are out of the way and only a baiting-place for a company pushing on to Venice. In fine, we shall stay here probably for a week or more, — and then proceed to Pen, at the Rezzonico; a month there, and then homewards! …
I delight in finding that the beloved Husband and precious friend manages to do without the old yoke about his neck, and enjoys himself as never anybody had a better right to do. I continue to congratulate him on his emancipation and ourselves on a more frequent enjoyment of his company in consequence.* Give him my true love; take mine, dearest friend, — and my sister’s love to you both goes with it. Ever affectionately yours Robert Browning.
* Mr. Skirrow had just resigned his post of Master in Chancery.
The cry of ‘homewards!’ now frequently recurs in his letters. We find it in one written a week later to Mr. G. M. Smith, otherwise very expressive of his latest condition of mind and feeling.
Asolo, Veneto, Italia: Oct. 22, ‘89.
My dear Smith, — I was indeed delighted to get your letter two days ago — for there are such accidents as the loss of a parcel, even when it has been despatched from so important a place as this city — for a regular city it is, you must know, with all the rights of one, — older far than Rome, being founded by the Euganeans who gave their name to the adjoining hills. ‘Fortified’ is was once, assuredly, and the walls still surround it most picturesquely though mainly in utter ruin, and you even overrate the population, which does not now much exceed 900 souls — in the city Proper, that is — for the territory below and around contains some 10,000. But we are at the very top of things, garlanded about, as it were, with a narrow line of houses, — some palatial, such as you would be glad to see in London, — and above all towers the old dwelling of Queen Cornaro, who was forced to exchange her Kingdom of Cyprus for this pretty but petty dominion where she kept state in a mimic Court, with Bembo, afterwards Cardinal, for her secretary — who has commemorated the fact in his ‘Asolani’ or dialogues inspired by the place: and I do assure you that, after some experience of beautiful sights in Italy and elsewhere I know nothing comparable to the view from the Queen’s tower and palace, still perfect in every respect. Whenever you pay Pen and his wife the visit you are pledged to, * it will go hard but you spend five hours in a journey to Asolo. The one thing I am disappointed in is to find that the silk-cultivation with all the pretty girls who were engaged in it are transported to Cornuda and other places, — nearer the railway, I suppose: and to this may be attributed the decrease in the number of inhabitants. The weather when I wrote last was ‘blue and blazing — (at noonday) — ’ but we share in the general plague of rain, — had a famous storm yesterday: while to-day is blue and sunny as ever. Lastly, for your admonition: we have a perfect telegraphic communication; and at the passage above, where I put a * I was interrupted by the arrival of a telegram: thank you all the same for your desire to relieve my anxiety. And now, to our immediate business — which is only to keep thanking you for your constant goodness, present and future: do with the book just as you will. I fancy it is bigger in bulk than usual. As for the ‘proofs’ — I go at the end of the month to Venice, whither you will please to send whatever is necessary… . I shall do well to say as little as possible of my good wishes for you and your family, for it comes to much the same thing as wishing myself prosperity: no matter, my sister’s kindest regards shall excuse mine, and I will only add that I am, as ever, Affectionately yours Robert Browning.
A general quickening of affectionate impulse seemed part of this last leap in the socket of the dying flame.
Chapter 22
1889
Proposed Purchase of Land at Asolo — Venice — Letter to Mr. G. Moulton-Barrett — Lines in the ‘Athenaeum’ — Letter to Miss Keep — Illness — Death — Funeral Ceremonial at Venice — Publication of ‘Asolando’ — Interment in Poets’ Corner.
He had said in writing to Mrs. FitzGerald, ‘Shall I ever see them’ (the things he is describing) ‘again?’ If not then, soon afterwards, he conceived a plan which was to insure his doing so. On a piece of ground belonging to the old castle, stood the shell of a house. The two constituted one property which the Municipality of Asolo had hitherto refused to sell. It had been a dream of Mr. Browning’s life to possess a dwelling, however small, in some beautiful spot, which should place him beyond the necessity of constantly seeking a new summer resort, and above the alternative of living at an inn, or accepting — as he sometimes feared, abusing — the hospitality of his friends. He was suddenly fascinated by the idea of buying this piece of ground; and, with the efficient help which his son could render during his absence, completing the house, which should be christened ‘Pippa’s Tower’. It was evident, he said in one of his letters, that for his few remaining years his summer wanderings must always end in Venice. What could he do better than secure for himself this resting-place by the way?
His offer of purchase was made through Mrs. Bronson, to Count Loredano and other important members of the municipality, and their personal assent to it secured. But the town council was on the eve of re-election; no important business could be transacted by it till after this event; and Mr. Browning awaited its decision till the end of October at Asolo, and again throughout November in Venice, without fully understanding the delay. The vote proved favourable; but the night on which it was taken was that of his death.
The consent thus given would have been only a first step towards the accomplishment of his wish. It was necessary that it should be ratified by the Prefecture of Treviso, in the district of which Asolo lies; and Mr. Barrett Browning, who had determined to carry on the negotiations, met with subsequent opposition in the higher council. This has now, however, been happily overcome.
A comprehensive interest attaches to one more letter of the Asolo time. It was addressed to Mr. Browning’s brother-in-law, Mr. George Moulton-Barrett.
Asolo, Veneto: Oct. 22, ‘89.
My dear George, — It was a great pleasure to get your kind letter; though after some delay. We were not in the Tyrol this year, but have been for six weeks or more in this little place which strikes me, — as it did fifty years ago, which is something to say, considering that, properly speaking, it was the first spot of Italian soil I ever set foot upon — having proceeded to Venice by sea — and thence here. It is an ancient city, older than Rome, and the scene of Queen Catharine Cornaro’s exile, where she held a mock court, with all its attendants, on a miniature scale; Bembo, afterwards Cardinal, being her secretary. Her palace is still above us all, the old fortifications surround the hill-top, and certain of the houses are stately — though the population is not above 1,000 souls: the province contains many more of course. But the immense charm of the surrounding country is indescribable — I have never seen its like — the Alps on one side, the Asolan mountains all round, — and opposite, the vast Lombard plain, — with indications of Venice, Padua, and the other cities, visible to a good eye