Tennyson, Alfred Tennyson, Baron, 1809-1892 -- Friends and associates
My first personal acquaintance with him was in the autumn of 1866, when I
was staying at Freshwater. I felt that I must call upon him and offer him
my respects and thanks before I left, but put it off through shyness until
the day before my holiday was to end. Then I took my courage in both hands
and went to Farringford. "Mr. Tennyson was out walking, but Mrs. Tennyson
was at home and would be happy to see me." It was a disappointment, but
Mrs. Tennyson received me most kindly and graciously, and begged me to
return later in the evening if I could, and see her husband who would like
to meet me. When I did return I was shown upstairs to the top of the house
and into an attic which was the Poet's own study, and presently, with my
heart in my mouth, I heard his great steps as he climbed up the little
wooden stairs. His bodily presence seemed as kingly as I felt it ought to
be, though a little grim and awful at first; but he made me very welcome,
and then groped about for and lighted a pipe, and sat down and began to
speak of King Arthur as being a subject of common interest and sympathy.
This soon thawed the chill of my spirits and I began to feel more at home,
until I felt I could make the request I was longing to do--would he read
to me one of his Poems, as I desired earnestly to hear from his own lips
what I already knew and loved? Then came a great surprise and delight, for
it was not reading as usually understood, but intoning on a note, almost
chanting, which I heard, and which brought the instant conviction that
this was the proper vehicle for poetry as distinguished from prose. I was
so enchanted that I begged for more and more; and then I suppose may have
begun a personal sympathy which grew and lasted always afterwards till his
death. For when I made to go he took me all about the house, showing me
the pictures and drawings with which his walls were lined, peering into
them so closely with a lighted candle that I thought he would set them or
himself on fire. This was, perhaps, another common ground,--I having been
all my life interested in art and in a small way a collector of drawings
and pictures.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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