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Taylor. 1880.

      Browning Society Papers. 1881, &c.

      Six Months in Italy. By G. S. Hillard. 1853.

      Recollections of a Literary Life. By M. R. Mitford. 1859.

      Benjamin Robert Haydon. Correspondence. 1876.

      Notes and Queries, Magazines, Newspapers, Vills, &c.

      ​

BORN 6 MARCH 1806

       Table of Contents

ELIZABETH BARRETT

       BROWNING

       Table of Contents

       This Volume has long been recognized as

       THE BEST POPULAR BIOGRAPHY

       of the celebrated Poetess: it has run through

       Five Editions in

       THE EMINENT WOMEN SERIES

      LONDON

      SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON & COMPANY

      Limited 15a, Paternoster Row, E.C.

      ​

CHAPTER I.

       Table of Contents

      HOPE END.

      The Barretts were wealthy West Indian land-owners. Edward Barrett Moulton, a member of the family, assumed the additional surname of Barrett in accordance with his grandfather's will. Edward Moulton-Barrett, as he now styled himself, had not attained his majority when he married Mary, daughter of J. Graham Clarke, at that time residing at Fenham Hall, Newcastle-on-Tyne. Of Mrs. Moulton-Barrett our records are scanty; it is known that she was several years older than her husband and that, despite their disparity in age, she was tenderly loved by him.

      In 1806 the Moulton-Barretts were residing at Coxhoe Hall, Durham, and there, on the 6th of March, the future poetess was born. Three days later she was privately baptized in the names of Elizabeth Barrett Moulton-Barrett.

      Soon after the birth of their daughter the family removed to Hope End, near Ledbury, Herefordshire. Hope End, an estate recently acquired by Mr. ​Barrett, had previously been the country seat of Sir Henry Vane Tempest, and was not unnoted for the beauty of its situation. It was located in a retired valley, a few miles distant from the Malvern Hills, and the Rev. J. Barrett, in a description he gave of the place some years previous to the birth of Elizabeth, says: "It is nearly surrounded by small eminences, and therefore does not command any distant prospect, except to the southward, nor is that very extensive; but this defect is compensated by the various and beautiful scenery that immediately surrounds this secluded residence. In front of the house are some fine pieces of water; on their banks are planted a variety of shrubs and evergreens, which, in conjunction with the water, look very ornamental. The Deer Park," says the reverend gentleman in the pedantic phraseology of the period, "lies on the ascent of the contiguous eminences, whose projecting parts and bending declivities, modelled by nature, display much beauty. It contains an elegant profusion of wood, disposed in the most careless yet pleasing order. Much of the Park and its scenery is in view from the house, where it presents a very agreeable appearance."

      The residence belonging to this charming estate was modern, and in keeping with the grounds; but it was not of sufficient grandeur to suit the semi-tropical tastes of its new proprietor. Mr. Barrett had the house pulled down and on its sight erected an oriental-looking structure, bedecked with "Turkish" windows and turrets.

      A large family of sons and daughters sprang up rapidly around the wealthy West Indian, and the quaint residence and its pleasant environments ​re-echoed daily to the prattle of little tongues and the patter of little feet. Foremost of the band was Elizabeth. She was her father's favourite child, and he, who was proud of her intelligence, spared no pains to cultivate it. Although one of a large family, and presumably the sharer in the sports of her brothers and sisters, she appears to have been fond of solitude and solitary amusements. She was allowed a little room to herself, and thus describes it:—

      I had a little chamber in the house

       As green as any privet-hedge a bird

       Might choose to build in. …

      The walls

       Were green, the carpet was pure green, the straight

       Small bed was curtained greenly, and the folds

       Hung green about the window, which let in

       The out-door world with all its greenery.

       You could not push your head out and escape

       A dash of dawn-dew from the honeysuckle.

      A member of Mr. Barrett's family, who is said to remember Hope End as it was in those days, speaks of "Elizabeth's room" as a lofty chamber with a stained glass window casting lights across the floor, and upon little Elizabeth as she used to sit propped against the wall, with her hair falling all about her face, a child-like fairy figure. "Aurora Leigh's" recollections, however, are probably accurate, and it may be assumed that her record of childish rambles in the early summer mornings when she would—

      Slip down-stairs through all the sleepy house

       As mute as any dream then, and escape

       As a soul from the body, out of doors,

       Glide through the shrubberies, drop into the lane

       And wander on the hills an hour or two,

       Then back again before the house should stir—

      faithfully represents little Elizabeth's own doings.

      ​Of Hope End and the surrounding scenery "Aurora Leigh" furnishes many glimpses, but whether the heroine's father, "who was an austere Englishman" who taught his little daughter Latin and Greek himself, is intended for Mr. Barrett, is more than doubtful. Indulgent as her father was in some things, he was sternly despotic in others, and although, as she grew up, Elizabeth evidently revered him, it is certain that he would never allow himself to be thwarted. There is evidence that the gentle wife, who flits like a colourless spirit across the early life-track of her celebrated child, had often to soothe the anger of the wealthy West Indian slave-owner against his own offspring.

      Although little Elizabeth found some things "as dull as grammar on an eve of holiday," as a rule she took more kindly to grammars than children of her age generally do. At nine—she herself is the authority—the only thing the mystic number nine suggested to the little girl was that the Greeks had spent nine years in besieging Ilium! Pity for her lost childhood's pleasures rather than admiration for her precocity would arise were it not palpable that infant necessity for play caused her to mingle frolic with her classical endowments. In the poem of "Hector in the Garden," Elizabeth Barrett tells that a device for amusement she invented when she was only nine years old was to cut out with a spade a huge giant of turf and, laying it down prostrate in the garden, style the creation of her childish fancy "Hector, son of Priam." Then, she says—

      With my rake I smoothed his brow,

       Both his cheeks I weeded through.

      ​Then she made her plaything—

      Eyes of gentianellas azure,

      Staring, winking at the skies:

      Nose

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