Sunday, May 19, 2024
Part 2 of a 2-part series
M. J. Wofford grew up in Graham, Texas, earned her BA at Baylor University and her MA at the University of Texas, specializing in secondary education with majors in English and history. The English Department at Baylor was formerly located in the basement of the beautiful Armstrong Browning Library, which houses the largest collection of Robert and Elizabeth Barrett Browning manuscripts and memorabilia in the world. Majoring in English, along with taking “The Browning Course” under Dr. Jack Herring, no doubt placed M. J. Wofford in that building many times, leaving a profound influence and attraction to the love story of these two Victorian poets. She recently shared their story with members of Coryell Retired School Personnel.
Part II: A Victorian Love Story Comes Alive
The relationship between Elizabeth Barrett and Robert Browning began with his admiring her two volumes of Poems, published in 1844. His first letter to her was dated January 10, 1845, and opened with the line, “I love your verses with all my heart, dear Miss Barrett…” Later in the letter, he repeated those lines and added “…and I love you, too.” Thus began their courtship, whose daily progress was recorded in their letters – all 574 of them – preserved and available in book format or by a digital collaboration project between Baylor University, Wellesley College (where the actual original letters are located), The University of Texas at Austin, and others. They corresponded for about five months, and Browning finally asked a mutual friend, John Kenyon, to arrange a meeting between the two. The date was set for May 20, 1845, in her room at the house on 50 Wimpole Street in London. Browning knew where the house was located; he had walked down that street past the house many times, hoping just to get a glimpse of her outside or even in a window.
Elizabeth was a writer better known at that time than Robert. However, her health was at a low. She had almost become a recluse, seeing only a couple of her sisters in her room on occasion. Her willingness to participate in conversation about social or aesthetic issues which had been strong in youthful days had diminished, as had her overall health. She did not leave her room. She knew of Browning, had a high regard for his writing, and even had a picture of him (along with those of other writers) in her room. She was a little surprised at the remark in the first letter (“and I love you, too.”) However, five months of correspondence eased any apprehensions, and they shared so much in common. Her father, of course, had no liking for Robert Browning and thought he was up to no good.
So, Elizabeth had her maid, Elizabeth Wilcox, curl her hair and help her prepare to meet Mr. Browning. He assured her that he just wanted to meet her and have a friendship. They found many things in common: their intelligence, their love of reading and poetry, love of Italy, love of the Greek language and history, and a passion for reading and learning. (Browning’s father had a library of over 7,000 volumes). They found they could talk to one another very easily and about any topic.
Eventually, Robert began to talk with Elizabeth about her health. Didn’t she want to get out of her room, go outside, ride in a carriage, laugh, and get stronger? Her response was, “Why should I do that?” To which he replied, “Don’t you know by now?” (meaning he was now interested in building a relationship). And…Elizabeth became hopeful! However, the next day when he came by, she had been crying because she didn’t think they could ever have a relationship. Why? She was older than him (Six years older); she was an invalid and that would hold him back from doing things he wanted to do; she had doubts about love (had been hurt once before when one she cared for had no feelings for her, and what about her father’s “love” when he squelched the idea of moving elsewhere to save her life and told her she would probably die a recluse and an invalid in her room in London?); and her father would say “no.” Robert asked her what she wanted to do. Would she stay there the rest of her life because her father said “no”? Wouldn’t she prefer to travel, to move to Italy, to enjoy life? She began to see good things and to believe their love would last. But she was still a bit “conflicted.” Yet, she said, “If I’m not sick and we have good weather, then I will do as you say.”
Secretly, she asked for a sign. Well, the weather that winter was unusually mild. In the spring, Robert brought her flowers -- purple violets (her favorite). With Robert’s help, her health improved. She learned to stand up on her own, then to take a few steps on her own, to walk out of her room, and even to walk down the stairs on her own, and to sit in the living room for the first time in years. She even went outside and walked with Robert, laughed, and enjoyed nature.
On September 12, 1846, Robert and Elizabeth eloped, taking her maid along as a witness. Robert declared he would never call her “Miss Barrett” again, but she told him that he would have to do so for another week because she would return home. Her family would be away from home the following week, and that was when the couple left. They took with them the maid, Elizabeth Wilcox, the spaniel, Flush (even though he had bitten Robert more than once out of jealousy), and the 574 love letters exchanged during their courtship. They honeymooned in Paris, then moved to Italy, where they made their home. Elizabeth’s father did disinherit her (as he said he would do to any of his children who married). He died in 1857, but he never saw or spoke to her again, not even after his grandson was born. Elizabeth expected her father to cut her off, but she did not anticipate the rejection by some of her siblings. However, they came back around after a while.
Between 1845 and 1846, Elizabeth wrote a series of 44 love sonnets, which were written for Robert during their courtship. The content and tone of the sonnets changed as their relationship grew, expressing initial doubts and fears about beginning a relationship, then showing overcoming of anxieties, and gradually becoming more accepting and passionate. She had kept these to herself and never intended to publish them because of their deeply personal nature, and her husband did not even know they existed. After sharing them with Robert, he insisted that they needed to be published because he felt that they were “the best sequence of English sonnets written since Shakespeare’s day.” He tried to disguise the title in order to protect their privacy by making people believe they were translations from foreign sonnets. Originally called Sonnets from the Bosnian, the title was changed to Sonnets from the Portuguese at her husband’s suggestion, perhaps because his nickname for Elizabeth was “my little Portuguese.” The Portuguese could also refer to Catarina from a poem by Camoens, considered Portugal’s greatest poet. Regardless of the origin of the name, most people were not fooled by who wrote them and in what context. The sonnets are some of the most famous love poems of the Victorian Age, or any other. They are probably Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s best-known works, especially “Sonnet 43” which begins, “How do I love thee, let me count the ways…”
Life for the Brownings was wonderful in Italy. Both poets continued to write, and they often critiqued and encouraged one another with comments and suggestions. Elizabeth grew stronger and at age 43, even after three miscarriages, at age 43, they had a son, born in Florence in 1849 at their Casa Guidi. He was named Robert Wiedeman Barrett Browning. Wiedeman was his paternal grandmother’s maiden name, but the child’s pronunciation of the name came out as “Penini,” so “Pen” became his name. That her pregnancy with Pen was successful was attributed to the fact that Elizabeth discontinued the use of laudanum, which had been prescribed for her illness. She described him as “so fat and rosy and strong that almost I am skeptical of his being my child.”
By the late 1850s, Elizabeth’s health was beginning to deteriorate again. In 1857, she published Aurora Leigh: A Novel in Verse, her most ambitious undertaking. It was highly popular, but it also drew criticism for its sympathetic treatment of an independent woman, an artist, and an unmarried mother. She had taken an interest in the cause of Italian unity. She had published Casa Guidi Windows, a work about Italy, including political reflections, and in 1860 she published a book called Poems before Congress, a collection of political poems, which was not well-received. The death of her father in 1857 and the death of her sister, Henrietta, in 1860 grieved her much. The Brownings spent the cold winter of 1860-61 in Rome, where Elizabeth became gradually weaker and used more morphine to ease her pain. They returned to Florence in June 1861. On June 29, her sleep was very restless, and Robert sat on her side of the bed in the early morning hours, holding her in his arms. She woke briefly and he asked her how she was feeling. Her answer, her last word, was simply, “Beautiful.” Unknown at the time, she had an abscess on her lung that had ruptured, and that was the cause of death. She was buried in the Protestant English Cemetery of Florence.
The issue of dress for Pen was one of the few points of contention between the Brownings, so one of the first things Robert did was to have Pen’s long golden curls cut and have him dressed in proper boy’s clothing. He published a book of Elizabeth’s last Poems that were left and made an effort to gather up belongings in Casa Guidi. He did not sell the place, but he no longer felt like he could live there without Elizabeth. So, he and 12-year-old Pen moved back to London. He continued to write, never remarried, and died on December 12, 1889. Robert Browning was buried at Westminster Abbey, in London.
