September 12 | Moments Almanac | Compatible?

Welcome to Moments Almanac. Today is September 12th, and on this day in 1846, two poets walked quietly into a church in London and got married. There was no grand celebration, no approving father giving away the bride. In fact, almost everything about the marriage of Elizabeth Browning and Robert Browning seemed unlikely. Elizabeth was forty years old, six years older than Robert. She was already one of England's most admired poets. She was also chronically ill, rarely left her family home and lived under the authority of a domineering father who had forbidden his children to marry. Robert Browning was a gifted but still struggling poet whose work could be so difficult to understand that William Wordsworth reportedly joked about the couple. I hope they understand each other. Nobody else would. It was meant as a jab, but maybe it was also one of the greatest compliments anyone could give a marriage, because Robert and Elizabeth did understand each other. Their stories began with words. Robert had read Elizabeth's poetry and wrote a letter in january eighteen forty five. He began boldly I love your verses with all my heart, dear Miss Barrett. Then he went even further. I do, as I say, love these books with all my heart, and I also love you too. Imagine receiving that piece of fan mail. What followed was one of literature's greatest correspondences. Hundreds of letters passed between them. Robert visited her, friendship deepened into affection and affection into love, and something began changing in Elizabeth. The woman who had lived much of her life secluded in an upstairs room began imagining another life. Her father would never approve, so Elizabeth and Robert married secretly on september twelfth. Elizabeth returned home afterward, and kept the marriage secret for several days. Then she left with Robert, and importantly, with her beloved dog Flush. Robert and Elizabeth eventually settled in Florence, Italy. Elizabeth's health improved considerably for a time. They had a son, they wrote, they traveled, they argued about politics and poetry, and for nearly fifteen years they shared the life that so many people thought could never work. Elizabeth's father never forgave her, but Robert never stopped loving her. And maybe, just maybe, that's what makes Wordsworth jokes so memorable and so beautiful. I hope they understand each other. Nobody else would. There are relationships that make perfect sense on paper and somehow fail. And then there are other people who seem separated by temperament, background, age, experience, even circumstance, and somehow love builds a bridge across all of it. Maybe that's one of the greatest gifts we can ever give another person is not simply to love them, but to see them, to recognize something beautiful that they had forgotten, to understand the words beneath the words, to know the fears, the peculiarities, the wounds, the peccadillos, the dreams, and remain. The world doesn't always have to understand. Sometimes it is enough to look across a room at one person and to know, you understand me. And perhaps that is one of love's quietest miracles. On September 12th, 1846, two poets made a promise that very few people understood. Fortunately, they understood each other, and sometimes that is enough.