Day: September 15, 2018

[Postmark: September 15, 1846]

Tuesday Morning,

My own Ba, could you think me capable of such a step ? I forget what I exactly said in the first letter, but in the second, which you have received by this, I know there is mention made of your account which is to accompany mine. You never quite understood, I think, my feeling about Mr. Kenyon and desire to tell him earlier. In the first place, at the very beginning, he seemed to stand (as he did) in closer connection with you than any other person I could communicate with, – therefore to represent, in some degree, your dear self in the worldly sense, and be able to impose on me any conditions &c. which your generous nature might be silent on, and my ignorance and excitement overlook : then there was another reason, the natural one, of our own . . his friendship, rather, for me, and the circumstance of his having in a manner introduced me to your acquaintance, – at all events, facilitated my introduction, – and so being after a fashion responsible in some degree for my conduct. These two reasons, added to a general real respect for his circumspection and sagacity, and a desire to make both of them instruct me in the way of doing you good. But you effectually convinced me that in neither case would the benefit derivable balance the certain injury, or at least, annoyance, to himself – while you showed me that I should not be so truly serving you, as I had intended, by the plans I used to turn over in my mind.

In brief, it was written that your proof of love and trust to me was to be complete, the completest – and I could not but be proud and submit – and a few words will explain the mere sin against friendship. I quite, quite feel as you feel, nor ever had the least intention of writing . . that is, of sending any letter, – till the very last. Be sure of it.

For the cards, I have just given orders, as you desire and as I entirely agree. The notion of a word about our not being in England was only a fancy for your family’s sake – just to save people’s application to them, to know what had become of us – and I had heard Mr. Kenyon commend the considerateness of those ‘ Lydian measures ‘ . . albeit there was . . or narrowly escaped being – an awful oversight of the traveller’s which would have made him the sad hero of a merry story for ever . . as I will tell you someday. If you will send the addresses, at any time, that trouble will be over. In all these mighty matters, be sure I shall never take the least step without consulting you – will you draw up the advertisement, please ? I will supply the clergyman’s name &c. &c.

I shall not see one friend more before I leave with you. So that nobody needs divine that since the 12th, we have not been at Margate – seeking ‘food for the mind’ –

11¾ A.M.

Dearest, I agree to all – I will not see you, for those reasons. I think, as you may, that it will be a point in excuse of the precipitancy that a removal was threatened for ‘ next Monday perhaps ‘ . . which, finding us unprepared, would have been ruinous. Say all you would have me say to your father, – no concession shall be felt by the side of your love. I will write a few words to Mrs. J. – her kindness is admirable and deserves the attention. For the date, – you will have seen the precautions I take, – I hope to see nobody now ; but I don’t know that it will be necessary to suppress it in the advertisement, if we can leave England by the end of the week, as I hope . . do you not hope, too? For I see announcements, in to-day’s Times, of marriages on the 8th and 9th and our silence on that particular might be only the beginning of some mystery . . as if it had happened half a year ago, for instance. Beside, your relations will examine the register. All rests with you, however – and will rest, Ba ! I shall ask you to do no more of my business that I can manage myself but where I can not manage . . why, then you shall think for me, – that is my command !

I suppose when a man buys a spinning-machine he loses dignity because he lets it weave stockings, – does not keep on with his clumsy fingers ! No, I will retain my honours, be certain, – you shall say, Ego et rex meus like Wolsey – or rather, like dear, dear Ba – like yourself I will ever worship ! See the good of taking up arms against me out of that service ! If you ‘ honour and obey ‘ me, ‘ with my body I thee worship ‘ – my best, dearest, sweetest Ba, and that I have avowed thus ‘ irrevocably ‘ – is the heart’s delight of your own R.

[Postmark: September 15, 1846]

Monday Evening.

First, God is to be thanked for this great joy of hearing that you are better, my ever dearest – it is a joy that floats over all the other emotions. Dearest, I am so glad ! I had feared that excitement’s telling on you quite in another way. When the whole is done, and we have left England and the talkers thereof behind our backs, you will be well, steadfastly and satisfactorily, I do trust. In the meantime, there seems so much to do, that I am frightened to look towards the heaps of it. As to accoutrements, everything has been arranged as simply as possible that way – but still there are necessities – and the letters, the letters ! I am paralysed when I think of having to write such words as . . ‘ Papa, I am married ; I hope you will not be too displeased.’ Ah, poor Papa ! You are too sanguine if you expect any such calm from him as an assumption of indifference would imply. To the utmost, he will be angry, – he will cast me off as far from him. Well – there is no comfort in such thoughts. How I felt to-night when I saw him at seven o’clock, for the first time since Friday, and the event of Saturday ! He spoke kindly too, and asked me how I was. Once I heard of his saying of me that I was ‘ the purest woman he ever knew,’ – which made me smile at the moment, or laugh I believe, outright, because I understood perfectly what he meant by that – viz – that I had not troubled him with the iniquity of love affairs, or any impropriety of seeming to think about being married. But now the whole sex will go down with me to the perdition of faith in any of us. See the effect of my wickedness ! –’ Those women ! ‘

But we will submit, dearest. I will put myself under his feet, to be forgiven a little, . . enough to be taken up again into his arms. I love him – he is my father – he has good and high qualities after all : he is my father above all. And you, because you are so generous and tender to me, will let me, you say, and help me to try to win back the alienated affection – for which, I thank you and bless you, – I did not thank you enough this morning. Surely I may say to him, too, . . ‘ With the exception of this act, I have submitted to the least of your wishes all my life long. Set the life against the act, and forgive me, for the sake of the daughter you once loved.’ Surely I may say that, – and then remind him of the long suffering I have suffered, – and entreat him to pardon the happiness which has come at last.

And he will wish in return, that I had died years ago ! For the storm will come and endure. And at last, perhaps, he will forgive us – it is my hope.

I accede to all you say of Mr. Kenyon. I will ask him for his address in the country, and we will send, when the moment comes, our letters together.

From Mrs. Jameson I had the letter I enclose, this morning, (full of kindness – is it not ?) and another really as kind from Miss Bayley, who begs me, if I cannot go to Italy, to go to Hastings and visit her. To both I must write at some length. Will you write to Mrs. Jameson, besides what I shall write ? And what are we to say as to travelling ? As she is in Paris, perhaps we may let her have the solution of our problem sooner than the near people. May we ? shall we ? Yet we dare not, I suppose, talk too historically of what happened last Saturday. It is like the dates in the newspaper – advertisements, which we must eschew, as you observe.

Other things, too, you observe, my beloved, which are altogether out of date. In your ways towards me, you have acted throughout too much ‘ the woman’s part,’ as that is considered. You loved me because I was lower than others, that you might be generous and raise me up : – very characteristic for a woman (in her ideal standard) but quite wrong for a man, as again and again I used to signify to you, Robert – but you went on and did it all the same. And now, you still go on – you persist – you will be the woman of the play, to the last ; let the prompter prompt ever so against you. You are to do everything I like, instead of my doing what you like, . . and to ‘ honour and obey ‘ me, in spite of what was in the vows last Saturday, – is that the way of it and of you? and are vows to be kept so, pray ? after that fashion ? Then, don’t put ‘ at home ‘ at the corner of the cards, dearest ! It is my command !

And forgive the inveterate jesting, which jests with eyes full of tears. I love you – I bless God for you. You are too good for me, as always I knew. I look up to you continually.

It is best, I continue to think, that you should not come here – best for you, because the position, if you were to try it, would be less tolerable than ever – and best for both of us, that in case the whole truth were ever discovered (I mean, of the previous marriage) we might be able to call it simply an act in order to security. I don’t know how to put my feeling into words, but I do seem to feel that it would be better, and less offensive to those whom we offend at any rate, to avoid all possible remark on this point. It seems better to a sort of instinct I have.

Then, if I see you – farewell, the letter-writing. Oh no – there will be time enough when we are on the railway ! – We shall talk then.

Ah – you say such things to me ! Dearest, dearestest ! And you do not start at that word, ‘ Irrevocable,’ as I have had fancies that you might, when the time came ! ‘ But you may recover, by putting out your hand, all you have given me, . . nearly all. I never, never, being myself, could willingly vex you, torment you. If I approach to it, you will tell me. I will confide in you, to that end also. Dearest.

And your father’s goodness, and the affectionateness of them all. When they shall have learnt most that I am not worthy of you, they will have learnt besides that I can be grateful to them and you. Certainly I am capable, I hope, of loving them all, well and with appreciation. And then . . imagine the comfort I take to the deepest of my heart from these hands held out to me ! For your sake ! Yes, for your sake entirely ! – and, so, the more dearly comforting to

Your very own BA.

There is still difficulty about the house. They think of Tunbridge Wells.