The Lion visits The Dirty Monk: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow visits Alfred, Lord Tennyson: 15-18 July 1868

Home of Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Farringford House

Freshwater Bay, Isle of Wight, United Kingdom

American poet, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow nicknamed 'The Lion' visited Poet Laureate, Alfred, Lord Tennyson at his home Farringford House on the Isle of Wight in the United Kingdom during 15-18 July, 1868. He was accompanied by his two sisters, brother-in-law, 3 daughters, son, and daughter-in-law. The Longfellow clan stayed  at the Plumbly's Hotel and then Henry Ribbands' Bonchurch Hotel. 

On Thursday, July 16, 1868, Longfellow walked through the front entrance doors of Farringford House. Upon entering, the walls were lined with pictures including the length of the stairway. At the foot of the stairway was a bust of Dante on a table. Walking through a narrow passage that led to the breakfast room, you then continued on to The Drawing room filled with furniture; armchairs, sofa, desk in front of one oriel window. A small mask of Shakespeare hung  on the wall over the bookshelves. 

Lady Tennyson

wife of Lord Tennyson

Photograph by Oscar Rejlander

Mrs. Tennyson received Longfellow and family in the dining room. He describes Lady Tennyson:

A very lovely and attractive lady, exceedingly delicate looking in health - dressed in black silk deeply trimmed with crape - with a most simple bit of white lace edged with silk gimp falling from the front of her head back, and down to her shoulders - plain black hair tied behind at the neck with a broad black ribbon the ends trimmed with crape.

The Longfellow family had lunch with Alfred and Emily Tennyson. However, Alfred was the last to enter the room. As he passed each member of the Longfellow family, he shook each hand individually eventually making his way to take his seat at the head of the table next to his wife. They dined on mutton they raised themselves.

The following day, there was afternoon tea on the grounds of Farringford House with Longfellow and Tennyson seated next to Mrs. Tennyson. Around twenty women were invited to approach Longfellow to shake hands with him. Mrs. Tennyson held Longfellow's hand at one point thinking he was nervous but he was very agreeable and reportedly enjoyed the day. 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

photographed by Julia Margaret Cameron

July, 1868, Isle of Wight, UK

A funny story was reported by Mrs. Tennyson how neighbor to Tennyson, photographer, Julia Margaret Cameron residing within walking distance at her home, Dimbola Lodge, Isle of Wight, heard that Longfellow was visiting Tennyson that July week and came bounding up the road to Farringford House to talk to Alfred about having the American poet sit for her so she could photograph him. Alfred warned I mean told Longfellow that she was a friend and neighbor and he basically had no choice. Needless to say, they visited Dimbola Lodge with Tennyson departing with these words...

Longfellow, you will have to do whatever she tells you. I'll come back soon and see what is left of you!

Below is one surviving stanza of a poem Longfellow wrote to Tennyson.

Wapentake

To Alfred Tennyson 

1873

By Henry Wadsworth Longellow

Poet! I come to touch thy lance with mine;

  Not as a knight, who on the listed field

  Of tourney touched his adversary's shield

  In token of defiance, but in sign

Of homage to the mastery, which is thine,

  In English song; nor will I keep concealed,

  And voiceless as a rivulet frost-congealed,

  My admiration for thy verse divine.

Not of the howling dervishes of song,

  Who craze the brain with their delirious dance,

  Art thou, O sweet historian of the heart!

Therefore to thee the laurel-leaves belong,

  To thee our love and our allegiance,

  For thy allegiance to the poet's art. 

SOURCE

Anne Longfellow Pierce, 'A visit to Farringford,' Boston University Studies in English, (1955) 96-8.

Alfred Lord Tennyson's Farringford Estate is now open to the public on the Isle of Wight!

Farringford The Home of Tennyson on the Isle of Wight

Image belongs to Farringford Estate 2017 

I just wanted to share a quick post with you all.

On August 23rd, 2017, Farringford, the home of Victorian Poet Laureate, Alfred, Lord Tennyson, officially re-opened to the public after being restored in detail the way it was during the time Alfred Tennyson lived there with his wife Lady Tennyson and two sons Hallam and Lionel Tennyson.
The family occupied the house during the years 1853 up until his death in 1892. They were some of the happiest years spent in the home.

The Tennyson family gardens have been restored as well. The tour includes home and gardens.

According to the Farringford Estate,

"Admission to the house and grounds is PRE-BOOKED TIMED ENTRY ONLY! Tours of the house run twice a day, at 11 a.m. and 2 p.m., Wednesday to Saturday.

Please call 01983 752500 to reserve your place." 

For more information, please visit the website of Farringford House  

Since I live in the United States, I would be eternally grateful to anyone who tours Farringford and shares their experiences here with me!  I will visit the home but not for another few years.

Memories of Lord and Lady Tennyson by Bram Stoker

Henry Irving and Bram Stoker leaving the Lyceum Theatre

by the private entrance, The Irving Society

Bram Stoker known for writing the gothic novel Dracula adored the poetry of Alfred, Lord Tennyson. He could recite any poem by heart at any given moment. Bram Stoker was about to meet his master through the form of Henry Irving. Henry Irving was acting royalty in England during the nineteenth-century and acting at London’s Lyceum Theatre (which he owned) when their friendship began. Irving acted and performed on the Lyceum stage and Stoker became acting manager then business manager of the Lyceum Theatre; a post which he held for twenty seven years.They remained fast friends until Irving’s death in 1905. 

I was reading Bram Stoker’s vivid memories of his meetings with Lord and Lady Tennyson which developed into a short yet quite meaningful friendship. So, I hope you don’t mind if I share a few of Bram Stoker’s memories here with you. They are quite interesting reading while shedding some light on the later years of Alfred Tennyson’s life until his death on 6 October 1892.  

It was my good fortune to meet Tennyson personally soon after my coming to live in London. On the night of March 20, 1879, he being then in London for a short stay, he came to the Lyceum to see Hamlet. It was the sixty-ninth night of the run. James Knowles was with him and introduced me. After the third act they both came round to Irving’s dressing-room. In the course of our conversation when I saw him again at the end of the play he said to me: “I did not think Irving could have improved his Hamlet of five years ago; but now he has improved it five degrees, and those five degrees have lifted it to heaven!” I remember also another thing he said: “I am seventy, and yet I don’t feel old-I wonder how it is!” I quoted as a reason his own lines from the Golden Year: 

“Unto him that works, and feels he works,

The same grand year is ever at the doors.”

He seemed mightily pleased and said:  “Good!”

After this meeting I had a good many opportunities of seeing Tennyson again. Whenever he made a trip for a few days to London it was usually my good fortune to meet him and Lady Tennyson My wife and I lunched with them; and their sons, Hallam and Lionel, spent Sunday evenings in our house in Cheyne Walk. Meeting with Tennyson and his family has given us many many happy hours in our lives, and I had the pleasure of being the guest of the great poet both at Farringford and Aldworth. I am proud to be able to call the present Lord Tennyson my friend. My wife and I were lunching with the Tennysons during their stay in London when the first copy arrived from Hubert Herkomer now Von Herkomer R.A., of his fine portrait etching of the Poet Laureate. It is an excellent portrait; but there is a look in the eye which did not altogether please the subject.” 

(You can read more about Von Herkomer in my previous article), Hubert Herkomer

 Alfred Tennyson, Poet Laureate by Sir Hubert Von Herkomer R.A., 1879 (w/c on paper)

Aldworth (Tennyson's house) Haslemere, Surrey, England, UK

“In the autumn of 1890, in response to a kindly invitation, Irving visited Aldworth, the lovely home which Tennyson made for himself under the brow of Blackdown. It was nine years since the two men had had opportunity for a real talk. Sunday, October 19, was fixed for the visit. I was invited to lunch also, and needless to say I looked forward to the visit, for it was to be the first opportunity I should have of seeing Tennyson in his own home. 

On the Sunday morning Irving and  I made an early start, leaving Victoria Station by the train at 8:45 and arriving at Haslemere a little after half-past ten. Blackdown is just under mountain height one thousand feet. 

Hallam met us at the door. When we entered the wide hall, one of the noticeable things was quite a number of the picturesque wide-brimmed felt hats which Tennyson always wore. I could not but notice them. 

After a short visit to Lady Tennyson in the drawing-room we were brought upstairs to Tennyson’s study, a great room over the drawing-room, with mullioned windows facing south and west. We entered from behind a great eight-fold screen some seven or eight feet high. In the room were many tall bookcases. The mullioned windows let in a flood of light. Tennyson was sitting at a table in the western window writing in a book of copybook size with black cover. His writing was very firm. He had on a black skull-cap. As we entered he held up his hand saying:

“Just one minute if you don’t mind. I am almost finished!” 

When he had done he threw down his pen and rising quickly came towards us with open handed welcome.

I went with Hallam to his own study, leaving Irving alone with Tennyson. Half an hour later we joined them and we all went out for a walk. In the garden Tennyson pointed out to us some blue flowering pea which had been reared from seed. He stooped a little as he walked; he was then eighty-two, but seemed strong and was very cheerful sometimes even merry. 

Alfred Tennyson's wolf hound, Katerina

With us came his great Russian wolfhound which seemed devoted to him. We walked through the grounds and woods for some three miles altogether, Hallam and Irving walking in front. As I walked with Tennyson we had much conversation, every word of which comes back to me. I was so fond of him and admired him so much that I could not, I think, forget if I tried anything which he said. Amongst other things he mentioned a little incident at Farringford, when in his own grounds an effusive lady, a stranger, said at rather than to him, of course alluding to the berries of the wild rose, then in profusion:

“What beautiful hips!”

“I am so glad you admire ‘em, ma’am!” he had answered, and he laughed heartily at the memory. I mention this as an instance of his love of humour. He had intense enjoyment of it.

“When we go in I want to read you something which I have just finished; but you must not say anything about it yet!” 

“All right!” I said, “of course I shall not. But why, may I ask, do you wish it so?”

“Well, you see,” he said, “I have to be careful. If it is known that I am writing on a particular subject I get a dozen poems on it the next day. And then when mine comes out they say I palgiarised them!”

That talk was full of very interesting memories. This stanza of In Memoriam had always been a favourite of mine, and when I told him so, he said:

“Repeat it!” I did so, again feeling as if I were being weighed up. When I had finished:

“He told it not; or something seal’d

The lips of that Evangelist:”

He turned to me and said:

“Do you know that when that was published they said I was scoffing. But” here both face and voice grew very very grave “I did not mean to scoff!” 

When I told him of my wonder as to how any sane  person could have taken such an idea from such a faithful, tender, understanding poem he went on to speak of faith and the need of faith. But his finishing sentence I shall never forget. Indeed had I forgotten for the time I should have remembered it from what he said the last interview I had with him just before his death:

“You know I don’t believe in an eternal hell, with an All merciful God. I believe in the All merciful God! It would be better otherwise that men should believe they are only ephemera!”

When we returned to the house we lunched, Lady Tennyson and Mrs. Hallam Tennyson having joined us. Then we went up again to the study, and Tennyson, taking from the table the book in which he had been writing, read us the last written poem, The Churchwarden and the Curate. He read it in the Lincolnshire dialect, which is much simpler when heard than read. The broadness of the vowels and their rustic prolongation, rather than drawl, adds force and also humour. I shall never forget the intense effect of the last lines of the tenth stanza. The shrewd worldly wisdom which was plain sincerity of understanding without cynicism.

 

The Church-Warden And The Curate 

By Alfred Lord Tennyson

I.

 Eh? good daay! good daay! thaw it beant not mooch of a daay, Nasty, casselty weather! an mea Haafe down wi my haay!

II.

 How be the farm gittin on? noaways. Gittin on ideead! Why, tonups was Haafe on em fingers an toas, an the mare brokken-kneead, An pigs didnt sell at fall, an wa lost wer Haldeny cow, An it beats ma to knaw wot she died on, but wools looking oop ony how.

III.

An soa theyve maade tha a parson, an thoull git along, niver fear, Fur I bean chuch-warden mysen i the parish fur fifteen year. Wellsin ther bea chuch-wardens, ther mun be parsons an all, An if tone stick alongside tuther the chuch weant happen a fall.

IV.

Fur I wur a Baptis wonst, an agean the toithe an the raate, Till I fun that it warnt not the gaainist waay to the narra Gaate. An I cant abear em, I cant, fur a lot on em coomd ta-year I wur down wi the rheumatis thento my pond to wesh thessens theere Sa I sticks like the ivin as long as I lives to the owd chuch now, Fur they weshd their sins i my pond, an I doubts they poisond the cow.

V.

 Ay, an ya seed the Bishop. They says at he coomd fra nowt Burn i traade. Sa I warrants e niver said haafe wot e thowt, But e creeapt an e crawld along, till e feeald e could howd is oan, Then e married a great Yerls darter, an sits o the Bishops throan.

VI.

Now Ill gie the a bit o my mind an tha weant be taakin offence, Fur thou be a big scholard now wi a hoonderd haacre o sense But sich an obstropulous ladnaay, naayfur I minds tha sa well, Thad niver not hopple thy tongue, an the tongues sit afire o Hell, As I says to my missis to-daay, when she hurld a plaate at the cat An anoother agean my noase. Ya was niver sa bad as that.

VII.

But I minds when i Howlaby beck won daay ya was ticklin o trout, An keeaper e seed ya an roond, an e beald to ya Lad coom hout An ya stood oop naakt i the beck, an ya telld im to knaw his awn plaace An ye calld im a clown, ya did, an ya thrawd the fish i is faace, An e tornd as red as a stag-tuckeys wattles, but theer an then I coambd im down, fur I promised yad niver not do it agean.

VIII.

An I cotchd tha wonst i my garden, when thou was a height-year-howd, An I fun thy pockets as full o my pippins as iver theyd owd, (16) An thou was as pearky  as owt, an tha maade me as mad as mad, But I says to the keeap em, an welcome fur thou was the Parsons lad.

IX.

 An Parson e ears on it all, an then taakes kindly to me, An then I wur chose Chuch-warden an coomd to the top o the tree, Fur Quolotys hall my friends, an they maakes ma a help to the poor, When I gits the plaate fuller o Soondays nor ony chuch-warden afoor, Fur if iver thy feythered riled me I kep mysen meeak as a lamb, An saw by the Graace o the Lord, Mr. Harry, I ham wot I ham.

X.

 But Parson e will speak out, saw, now e be sixty-seven, Hell niver swap Owlby an Scratby fur owt but the Kingdom o Heaven: An thouII be is Curate ere, but, if iver tha means to git igher, The mun tackle the sins o the Wold,  an not the faults o the Squire. An I reckons thall light of a livin some-wheers i the Wowd or the Fen, If tha cottons down to thy betters, an keeaps thysen to thysen. But niver not speak plaain out, if tha wants to git forrards a bit, But creeap along the hedge-bottoms, an thoull be a Bishop yit.

XI.

Naay, but tha mun speak hout to the Baptises here i the town, Fur moast on em talks agean tithe, an Id like the to preach em down, Fur theyve bin a-preachin mea down, they heve, an I haates em now, Fur they leaved their nasty sins i my pond, an it poisond the cow.

Emily, Hallam and Alfred at Aldworth by Henry Cameron, late 1889. 

On September 25, 1892, my wife and I spent the day with Lord and Lady Tennyson at Aldworth. We were to have gone a week earlier, but as Tennyson was not well the visit was postponed.

We sat while Lady Tennyson, who was in the drawing room on a sofa away from the light. She had long been an invalid. She was perhaps the most sweet and saintly woman I ever met, and had a wonderful memory.

Once again Tennyson seemed troubled about the press, and was bitter against certain newspaper prying. He could not get free from it. It had been found out during his illness that the beggar man who came daily for the broken meat was getting ten shillings a week from a local reporter to come and tell him the gossip of the kitchen. Turning to me he said:

“Don’t let them know how ill I am, or they’ll have me buried before twenty four hours!”

Then after a while he added:

“Can’t they all let me alone. What did they want digging up the graves of my father and mother and my grandfather and grandmother. I sometimes wish I had never written a line!”

I said:

“Ah, don’t say that! Don’t think it! You have given delight to too many millions, and your words have done too much good for you to wish to take them back. And the good and the pleasure are to go on for all the future.” After a moment’s thought he said very softly:

“Well, perhaps you’re right!  But can’t they leave me alone!”

My review of two plays in one novel, The Sellwood Girls and When Queen Victoria Came to Tea by Margaret Crompton

'The Sellwood Girls': Emily, Anne and Louisa Sellwood were born and brought up in Horncastle, Lincolnshire. Their father was a solicitor. Their mother died soon after Louisa was born and an unmarried Franklin aunt came to care for the children. In 1827, the girls attended a boarding school in Brighton. Emily and Louisa married the Tennyson brothers Alfred and Charles, who grew up in Somersby in the Lincolnshire Wolds.  Anne married Charles Weld. Their stories are characterised by hope and anxiety, love and loss, delight and despair, illness, guilt and, eventually, reconciliation. These stories emerge throughout the play. Hallam Tennyson (son of Alfred and Emily) is completing a submission to a playwriting event at the University of The Wolds - 'Bring-along-a-script, ' In seeking to give a voice to his mother and aunts, he finds a voice for himself. Hallam imagines the 3 sisters together in the garden of their boarding school in Brighton, 1827. He becomes the involved narrator.  The girls reflect on their home life, then imagine future husbands (who appear silently to illustrate these visions). The girls are transformed into their adult selves and through narration, reflection and discussion, they review their lives. Eventually they address Hallam directly, so that he becomes not only writer and narrator but also involved in the interactions and emotional development.

'When Queen Victoria Came To Tea': Early autumn 1857. Emily and Alfred Tennyson are in residence at 'Farringford, ' their Isle of Wight retreat in Freshwater. This is not far from 'Osborne House, ' East Cowes, recently bought by Victoria and Albert. Events to which the play refers are actual, including Albert's unannounced visit in 1856, Victoria's never-realised intentions to visit, and her attitude to 'fun.' However, there is no evidence for the action which imagines secret, informal visits from Victoria to Emily, and Albert to Alfred, unique and precious opportunities for relaxation and revelation. Alfred is already Poet Laureate, and will not become 'Lord' until 1883. As far as possible, material is drawn from contemporary documents, including letters. 

Product Details

• Paperback: 78 pages
• Publisher: Magic Oxygen (November 5, 2015)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 191009434X
• ISBN-13: 978-1910094341

I just want to start by saying how much fun this was to read overall. Both authors did a wonderful job researching not only the well known poet and his immediate family but brother Charles Tennyson Turner and Emily's sisters Anne and Louisa Sellwood. Although, there were only one or two discrepancies I could find about The Tennyson's, it did not detract from how much I enjoyed reading both plays. How refreshing to read about various aspects of the lives and relatives of the most beloved poet of the nineteenth-century.  Having a grown Hallam Tennyson, Alfred Tennyson's first born narrate, 'The Sellwood Girls' is pure genius!  It made me want to learn more about Louisa and Charles Turner. 

On to Queen Victoria.  As noted above, throughout Tennyson's life he and his family were invited to Osborne House on two occasions that are well documented. In one visit Alfred went alone and in another visit, he, his wife and two boys went while the boys were still small. It is an enchanting visit to read about. There is also one documented visit of Prince Albert showing up at Farringford to see Alfred Tennyson without Queen Victoria. I have often wondered if Victoria herself did not summon a coach to drive her from Osborne House to Farringford House to speak with her beloved favorite poet and friend Alfred Tennyson. Especially, after Albert's death and her adoration for In Memoriam.  Well, imagine no more...Margaret Crompton has written a wonderfully humorous and engaging royal visit.  

I hope everyone who admires Queen Victoria and Alfred Tennyson will buy this novel and enjoy both plays.  The Sellwood Girls and When Queen Victoria Came to Tea is out now and was published on November 5, 2015.

Thank you very much to the author, Margaret Crompton and her husband co-author John Crompton along with publishing house Magic Oxygen for sending me a review copy.

To purchase your copy,  Amazon US  To purchase your copy, Amazon UK

A Moonlight Memoriam~Alfred, Lord Tennyson (August 6, 1809- October 6, 1892)

 Alfred Tennyson (1809–1892), 1st Baron Tennyson, Honorary Fellow (1869), Poet Laureate

by George Frederic Watts, Date painted: 1890, Oil on canvas, 64 x 51 cm, Collection: Trinity College, University of Cambridge

*Side Note:  In October of 1892, Lady Tennyson, Audrey Tennyson, was married to Alfred’s first born son, Hallam Tennyson. Hallam was his father’s companion during his illness and helped his aged mother care for him. They were living at ALDWORTH HOUSE, TENNYSON'S LANE, LURGASHALL, CHICHESTER, WEST SUSSEX, ENGLAND. The home of Alfred and Emily Tennyson. Alfred Tennyson was in bed in his upstairs bedroom during the days leading to his death. Also, Tennyson's grandchildren Lionel, Alfred, Charlie, and Aubrey will be mentioned. Grandpa Alfred Tennyson was called, 'Baba' by them.

 

 Lady Audrey Tennyson

**I want to say, I hesitate upon whether or not to share any of Audrey Tennyson’s Diary solely because the details of Alfred’s illness, his symptoms, his behavior while in bed being so very ill are well extremely intimate. Knowing how Alfred Tennyson felt about his privacy, I know he would not be happy about the world being able to read such things before, during, and after his death. However, I also understand that as Poet Laureate and as admirers of his work and curiosity about his personal life, these excerpts should be shared.  I only hope you can forgive me, Alfred! 

Aldworth painted by Helen Allingham, 1880

Aldworth as it looks today.

Excerpts from ‘The Audrey Tennyson Death Bed Diary’ (Including the days leading to the funeral) :

Tuesday: 4 a.m. (October 4):  H. went down and found him sleeping quietly with less fever. 7:30: Dr. Dabbs fetched H. from bed and said he was better, and he must give him some Eno, as he had had no action since Friday morning. He also asked for salicilate of quinine pills, which I gave him 9a.m. His fever rose and he became excited again and told H.: “They are trying to give me a passage.” H. Said: “They are quite right; it will do you good.” “What, a passage in a fast train?It is awful. How will they carry me to it?” 9:30: Nurse Saunders fetched an enema, and at 10, H. ran down for some castor oil, and Nurse Rusell massaged him with it and caused a slight action. Dr. Dabbs then ordered him complete quiet for 20 minutes, after giving him a little soda water and brandy. I heard him shout in swallowing and say: “That’s because I was not raised”; and Dr. Dabbs raised him and offered him more, but he refused. 

10:30:  Dr. Dabbs told me there was no hope, but he would possibly rally a good many times before the end. He did not dare give him sulphonal. H. says he looks round every time any one goes in. His mother went in about 10:30 and thought him worse. Bulletin was: “Lord Tennyson is worse since early morning. Debility increases,” which we placed outside the gate. I went in to see my Mother-in-Law (Emily Tennyson) and asked her if she would like me to sit in the room with her; but she said, though grateful, she would rather be alone. He told H.: “You have all been deceiving me about the time. Why is that?” 

12 a.m.: H. just been to see him. He said: “Where’s my Shakespeare? I must have my Shakespeare.” But Hallam told him he must not read. He is much quieter, and is in a nice warm perspiration. He said: “I must have the blinds up. I want to see the sky.” Such a glorious morning with warm sunshine, and he was allowed his window open; but it is clouding over now, and H. has gone down again to have it shut. 2 p.m.: Has been sleeping very quietly but very deeply since about 12. Is going to have some food. Is very sensible about taking it, and says he will if it is to do him good, and says he can swallow much better. His pulse now 98, his temperature 98.2, his breathing 40.  3 p.m. : He asked Dr. Dabbs to sit down and not stand by his bed. Asked him whether it was better for him to sleep or not sleep, and when asked whether he would like to lie on his side, said “No”-he would do very well as he was. Shortly before, when H. went in, he told him he must not take him on his journey today; he could not bear it. 4:15 p.m.:  Dr. Dabbs came up saying he seemed better than he had seen him in two days. He asked what his temperature was and was told the truth 97.6 under the arm. Dr. Dabbs told him he had no fever, and he asked if he had had. Dr. D. said: “Yes, yesterday. And now you have none.” He said: “They never told me. Why don’t they tell me things?” A little later he asked the nurse how long he had been ill, and she told him 4 days. 5:15: He roused again after a quiet sleep. He was quite collected and sensible, and talked to Dr. Dabbs. Said he would take anything he ordered. Had cup of tea made with milk and brandy. He told Dr. Dabbs, as the nurse put the thermometer under his arm, she scraped a nerve, and the most beautiful vision of blue and colours passed across his eyes. 7:00: Hallam and Dr. Dabbs went down and came back, saying he had been wandering again, and that Gladstone had been walking with him in his garden this morning. 8:45: Just as we had finished dinner, Nurse Saunders sent down for Dr. Dabbs, as he had started up all of a sudden; but they found him quiet and himself. Only Hallam who felt a strong presentiment at dinner that he would pass away tomorrow, as if he heard a voice saying so, became hopeless for first time, though his breathing, pulse, temperature, all are better. Thinks he has a far away, unearthly look on his face. It is the first time he says he has felt hopeless about him.  11:00: He asked if his books had come (H. thinks his proof books), as they ought to have, he said; and H. said “Yes, they arrived yesterday.” H. kissed his hand, and he said Sir Andrew did that. H., Dr. Dabbs, and the nurses all stayed up, H. and Dr. Dabbs in sitting room till 1, then down to Dr. D.’s bedroom. I went down at 6 and found him very quietly sleeping, looking most peaceful and calm and comfortable. He asked for his Shakespeare again in the night, and was not happy till he had it on his bed. Continued taking nourishment every hour till 11, then merely barley water, which he asked often for, and lifted it himself to his lips. About 10:30, Dr. Dabbs was sent for, and he and I went down, and I fetched Hallam who had taken his Mother down, and he went in, then left the room, and he said “Hallam.” And I again fetched H., and we thought the end was near; and he fetched his Mother and she lay on the sofa, the nurses and I watching through the door. H. asked him in the early morning if he felt calm, and he said: “Quite…but I shan’t get better.” 12:00: They gave him some quieting dose. The first kind burnt his throat, and he could not swallow it. A few minutes later they gave him some blank), which quieted his restlessness, not very severe but constant. He asked for me once, and I kissed him and put eau de cologne on his head. He said: “That’s nice.” Later, he said: “I’m no better.” But his speech…it is difficult to catch what he says. I heard him say “I hope,” but could not understand anything else. Slept, or rather dozed, quietly, constantly opening his eyes and gazing round till nearly 2. 

[Tuesday, 5 October] 1:55 p.m.: Again asked for his Shakespeare during the morning, and lies with his hand resting on it open, he having opened it and attempted to put it up to read; but Hallam told him he must not read. He said, “This is the worst attack I have had” quite distinctly. 

5:15: They saw a change was coming on, and Hallam fetched his Mother in that he might recognize her, and she went out again.

5:30: He was quite unconscious, and never gained it again, not speaking again. Hallam fetched his Mother in, as the doctors thought the end might be near; and just then the most glorious moon rose from above the horizon, the landscape looking more beautiful than I had ever seen it, with wonderful colouring, and the distant downs beyond Brighton showing quite distinctly. The morning began very badly, much rain and mist, and then turned into the most glorious afternoon one could have wished for, not a movement, as if nature knew what was happening and was trying to look its best, and also to look as calm and peaceful as it could. I could not help standing and gazing at it thinking how he would have admired it all. Nurse Saunders told me he several times said to her: “There, I am quite certain there is nothing so beautiful as that in Jamaica,” she being a native of the West Indies.

6:00: The moon which had been straight in front of him from the moment of rising, suddenly lit up the whole of his face and bed, and he looked grand and peaceful in a golden light. Hallam always sent the nurses out of the room whenever his Mother came in; but Dr. Dabbs asked that they might just be allowed to see him thus for a minute, and they came in and went again. William and Andrews were allowed to go in in the morning just to look at him.

6:45:  The moon still lighting up his face and bed, and continued doing so till nearly 8. Sir Andrew Clark suggested that Hallam should take his Mother out for 15 minutes, she having been lying on the sofa all the time since 5:45, except to kiss him. And I then went and sat on the floor at the side of his bed, and put my hand in his right hand. He closed his fingers and thumb tightly over it, and held it thus quite tightly, lifting it in his whenever he moved his arm up or down, till 9 o’clock when I went down for some soup. When I returned, he no longer grasped it; but I lay on the bed by his side, holding his left hand till 11:15, and then Hallam begged me to go up to bed. We had not lighting in the room whatever till at this hour, the whole room lit up by the splendid moon, though no longer shining on his bed. The nurses now lit the fire, and except a dim light from that, we had no light absolutely in the room, and all was clear with a beautiful solemn light. Instead of going up to bed after having been up to the sitting room for a few minutes, I went down and sat outside in the passage; and Nurse Russell soon came out to fetch me at 11:45. He had then a spasm going on, and Dr. Dabbs was holding chloroform over his face, which instantly soothed him. He thought the end would probably come after the spasm, and Hallam fetched his Mother in, and we all kissed the dear face we all so truly loved, and, soon after, Hallam took his Mother out of the room for fear there should be anything to pain her. 

12: The spasm passed, and though very weak, the pulse beat on. I knelt at the side of his bed, occasionally feeling the pulse, Nurse Russell sitting on the other side of the bed, and Nurse Saunders standing with bowed head in prayer. And we waited and watched thus, Hallam kneeling on the sofa at the foot of the bed where he could watch him, and Dr. Dabbs sitting at his head with the chloroform whenever he felt any spasms. 

12:57[leading to Thursday, Oct 6^th]:  We again thought the dear spirit was passing home, and Dr. Dabbs looked at his watch and said he thought his long journey must be near its end. But again the pulse revived, till 1:25 when several spasmodic gasps came, followed by long silences, and Dr. Dabbs could feel no more pulse, and Hallam said: “I can only say his own words: ‘God accept him. Christ receive him.” And both nurses fell on their knees in prayer; and I thought of his Lionel, my father, Mordie, Harry, and Eleanor all welcoming the one we so loved in their Heavenly Home, all in a solemn silence. And then Hallam asked: “Is it over?” and Dr. Dabbs said: “I think there is one more breath to come.” Then, after what seemed a long silence, came a little sharp short breath, at 1:35 a.m. by Dr. Dabbs’ watch. And our darling had entered his Eternal Home. And we rose and left him in the moonlit room.

 

 Lord Tennyson 1892 Death Bed Last Idyll Man by Forestier

 

Thursday, 11 o’clock.  Hallam took his mother in about 12; but I think the beautiful face has looked more and more beautiful each time I have been in, absolutely calm, happy, peaceful, and young. His hands crossed on his chest and his Shakespeare open on the bed. Hallam let all the servants and gardeners, etc, go in and look at him, and let me write to some of the neighbors, all of which came and were amazed at the beauty, calmness, and sleep-like appearance. Went in and looked at the dear figure before I went to bed, not knowing if I should see it again. Hallam took his mother in before dinner for the last time. 

 

 The Funeral of the Late Alfred Lord Tennyson, DCL, Poet Laureate. Illustration for The Graphic, 1892. Engraving by CJ Staniland

Monday [10^th]:  Sent for Macklin the carpenter to close the lid after breakfast. Enclosed in the coffin, Hallam had a tin box sealed in which he put one of my little green Shakespeare with Cymbeline in it, and on the fly-leaf wrote:  “Placed here by me Hallam Tennyson in memory of my Father’s devotion to Shakespeare, which showed itself up to the hour of his death by his having a copy of Shakespeare on his bed, so as to feel it when he was too weak to read it. One of his last acts was to open it half consciously and the corner of the page was turned down by my wife where he had opened it. On looking at the page afterwards I found that he had opened it at one of the 3 passages which he used to call the tenderest in Shakespeare: ‘Hang there like fruit my soul/’Till the tree dies.’ One of the last things that he said was ‘I opened it.’ Hallam Tennyson. Buried with him Wednesday October 12^th 1892.

Tuesday: 12 o’clock [Oct. 11]:  The plain unpolished oak coffin with plain brass slab, and on it: “Alfred Lord Tennyson. Born August 6^th 1809. Died October 6^th 1892,” and brass handles, was brought down from London and placed in the drawing room between the window and the door; and then the dear body was carried down without a sound, the men taking off their boots, and placed inside the outer coffin, and all the wreaths and crosses, and over it a lovely pall worked in the Keswick School and designed by Mrs. Rawnsley, with 42 pink roses as an emblem of his Laureateship and married life, the last verse in gold letters of “Crossing the Bar,” a coronet, and “A.T.” beautifully embroiderd. Mr. and Mrs. Rawnsely came for a short time. Graham Dakyns came up, and at 5 o’clock Maud Tennyson and Mr. Hichens arrived. At 5:45 William Knight brought the waggonette, which I had made the gardeners cover with ivy, stag moss, and red leaves, and line with moss, with “Firefly” in it. And the body was placed in it, and led by William. Close behind it Hallam and I walked, then Maud and Mr. Hichens, then Dumps and the children’s cart led by John with all the wreaths, then the two nurses, and all the servants and gardeners and villagers. All the shops were shut as we passed through Haslemere, the bell toll’d, and there was a great number of people to see it pass. A saloon carriage was there ready, and Graham Dakyns, William, the two nurses, and I went up in it attached to the 7 o’clock train. When we reached Waterloo, there were a good many people waiting, and Mr. Craik was there in his brougham and drove me to the Abbey. As we turned a corner, I saw that the wagon carrying the coffin was one with linen cover and linen curtains hung down at the back, so that nothing could be seen. I told Mr. Craik I did not think Hallam would like that; and he offered to stop, and his servant told them to raise the curtains at the back. And then was seen the coffin covered with the Union Jack which had met us at Waterloo (given by a brigade of guards and sent by Lord Metheun commanding the Home District.) When we got over Westminster, we heard the muffled peal of bells instead of tolling, and the moon was shining in the most glorious way. As soon as the coffin was lifted out of the van, we followed it Mr. Craik, Graham Daykns, and I, and the two nurses, and William to St. Faith’s Chapel; and there the Keswick pall was taken off, and the Union Jack replaced it. And then I laid on the coffin my mother-in-law’s cross of white roses, the wreath of red roses from Hallam and me, and the two small wreaths of scarlet Lobelia cardinalis one from our two boys and the other from Lionel’s boys, which I ordered as being his favourite flowers, the green of them all was the Alexandrian laurel. I made little Lionel write, with mother guiding his hand, on his: “To dear Baba in Heaven from his loving little Lionel and Aubrey.” Canon Duckworth then said a short prayer and I immediately left the beautiful little peaceful chapel, and all that was left to us of our darling, and caught the last train back to Haslemere with Graham Dakyns and Nurse Saunders. 

[Wednesday, Oct 12]:  Next morning Wednesday 12^th, Hallam, Maud, I, and the servants went up by the 9:56, and we drove straight to the Headmaster of Westminster’s house, Dr. Rutherford, which we found quite empty and to ourselves. And there little Lionel and his nurse Francis with Alfred and Charlie joined us. And we waited there till we were fetched to the Abbey, where Hallam and I walked together behind the pall bearers: Duke of Argyll, Lord Dufferin, Lord Roseberry, Lord Selborne, Mr. Jowett, Mr. Lecky, Mr. Froude, Lord Salisbury, Dr. Butler, United States Minister’s Secretary, Sir James Paget, Lord Kelvin. Behind us Alfred and Charlie with little Lionel all in white, taking their hands. Behind him Francis carrying his hat, then Eleanor and Mr. Birrell and the two nurses next, then, etc. etc. Little Lionel sat perfectly still during the whole of the lesson, and after the singing of “Crossing the Bar,” Francis took him out, as I did not want him to see the last part, even though he had no idea that it had anything to do with his Baba, as I did not like all the black being connected with him in any way.

 

Source:  The Audrey Tennyson Death Bed Diary, Letters to a Tutor: The Tennyson Family Letters To Henry Graham Dakyns (1861-1911) by Robert Peters, 1988, The Scarecrow Press, Inc. Metuchen, N.J. & London