Henry’s mouth was suddenly dry. He turned the brim of his hat in his hands and looked around as though he’d never stood there before. Fanny faced him, her hands clasped in front and her head cocked to the side.
“Did you . . . walk?” Fanny asked, a laugh in her voice.
“I did.” In two long strides he stood before her, close enough to raise his hand, tentatively at first, and touch her cheek. She swallowed at his touch while he relished the warmth spreading through his body. To be so near to her. To touch her soft skin and hear her gentle breath. “I could not contain the energy I felt upon receipt of your letter.”
“I’m sorry it took me so long to respond to yours.” She sounded nervous. “I wanted to be sure. I needed to be certain.”
He held her eyes. “And you are certain now?”
She raised her own hand, pressing it against his hand cradling her face. She smiled and tears rose in her eyes. “To think you knew all along,” she whispered. “And never turned away from me.”
“I tried,” he said, thinking of Germany and how certain he’d been that he was through pining for her. “My heart would not allow it.”
“Bless your beautiful heart,” she whispered. “Can it ever forgive me, Henry, for taking so long to recognize my own?”
Sweeter words had never sounded in his ears, and Henry could not resist the desire to seal such sentiment with the sweetness of a kiss. He lowered his face, and she stepped close enough that every one of his senses was filled with her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. Her cheeks colored, but not once did she look away from him. She clasped her hands behind his neck and touched the hair at the base of his neck. He lowered his face to hers.
Henry had imagined Fanny’s kiss a thousand times, and yet the moment their lips met, he realized he could never have adequately imagined
this.
He had known, almost from when they first met, that his life would have no meaning without Fanny in it. She had healed him and haunted him and nearly driven him mad, and yet now she was in his arms, returning every beat of his heart with her own until he could scarcely believe there had ever been less than this wholeness between them.
She pulled back, a bit breathless, and looked at him with an expression of surprised satisfaction. “I thank God you did not give up on me.”
The husky quality of her voice nearly undid him while the future—something that so often was heavy and guarded—began to blossom, unfurling possibilities and grandeur he could scarcely comprehend. “Some part of me must have known that holding you in my arms would feel exactly like this.”
Their lips met again, at first with tenderness, then passion, and then promise.
The Past and Present here unite
Beneath Time’s flowing tide,
Like footprints hidden by a brook,
But seen on either side.
—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, “A Gleam of Sunshine”
Chapter Notes
Henry and Fanny had six children—Charles, Ernest, Fanny, Alice, Edith, and Anne—though Little Fanny (their third child and first daughter) died at sixteen months of age from an unknown illness. Fanny herself made medical history when she gave birth to Edith while unconscious due to the use of ether after Henry had found a dentist willing to help her avoid the pain of childbirth. It had always distressed him how difficult childbirth was for women. Longfellow’s posterity continued to live in “Craigie Castle” until 1950. In 1972, the Longfellow house became a national park.
In 1861, Fanny died following a tragic accident when her dress—a Victorian hoopskirt design—caught fire and could not be extinguished before she sustained fatal injuries. Henry attempted to put out the flames and was left with facial scars that became the reason he wore a beard for the rest of his life. Fanny succumbed to her injuries and was buried in the Mount Auburn cemetery on the couple’s eighteenth wedding anniversary. Henry was not present as he was still recovering from his own injuries.
In a letter to Fanny’s sister written a month following Fanny’s death, Henry wrote: “I never looked at her without a thrill of pleasure;—she never came into a room where I was without my heart beating quicker, nor went out without my feeling that something of the light went with her.” One could say that when she died, much of the light in Henry’s life went with her as well.
Henry remained unmarried and became increasingly solitary for the rest of his life. Although he continued to write, and, in his later years, undertook the auspicious translation of Dante’s
Divine Comedy
, he was never quite the same after Fanny’s death. He was cared for by his daughter Alice and lived in Craigie House until his death in 1882 at the age of seventy-five. He passed away in the same bed where Fanny had died more than two decades earlier.
While it is impossible to separate the tragedy from the love story, the love Henry and Fanny shared, with each other and their children, was profound and moving. Through exploring their lives and the abiding love they shared, I can imagine that, if given the choice of eighteen years of love with a tragic end, or nothing at all, both Fanny and Henry would have chosen the years they had together. They truly brought out the best in one another, and they loved one another fully to the end of their days.
I tried to keep to the facts as much as possible in telling this story, but there were a lot of blanks in need of filling and motivations in need of understanding that necessitated some fictional license on my part. The following notes break down what I knew to be true and what I admit to being fictional.
Chapter One
A European Grand Tour was a popular journey through several European countries that, in the 1830s, was a new adventure for families—especially American families—to embark upon. Before then, it had been something that young men used as a tool of education, as Henry had done a decade earlier.
The Appletons left for their tour rather spontaneously, three weeks after Charlie’s death and a year and a half after Fanny’s mother, Theresa Maria Gold Appleton, had died. The assumption is that Nathan was overcome with grief at the loss of his son, who he believed would take over his business interests, and felt he had to get out of Boston and distract himself from all the loss that had happened in such a short time. Both Maria Gold and Charles died of consumption, also known as tuberculosis, which would not have a cure for another hundred years.
For the Appletons to have taken such a trip is evidence of the family’s wealth, and they spared no expense. Halfway through the Appletons’ Grand Tour, Henry Longfellow’s own tour intersected theirs. Longfellow was seeking respite from a long, dark winter spent in Germany following the death of his first wife, Mary Potter. In June or July 20, 1836 (there are varying accounts, but I chose July for the sake of the story), Fanny recorded that Henry Wadsworth Longfellow had left a card for them in Thun. She expected a “veritable gentleman” and hoped he would not call on them, though she did record that she liked
Outré-Mer,
which had been published a few years earlier. Henry was traveling the other direction through Thun, toward Berne, and did not meet up with the family at this time.
It was not uncommon for people on tour to meet others from their own country or city, as a Grand Tour was all the rage among the upper classes in the 1830s. As Henry did not yet live in Cambridge, nor was of the same social class, the Appletons would not have known him beyond his writing.
Mary Appleton, Fanny’s older sister by almost four years, is most commonly referred to as “Mary” in the resources I studied, however I found reference that the family’s nickname for her was Molly, just as Frances was called Fanny. In an attempt to avoid confusion between Mary Appleton and Mary Potter Longfellow—Longfellow’s first wife—as well as the smattering of other
Mary
s that appear in the book, I chose to reference her as Molly throughout the work, even from those people outside of her family who would likely not have addressed her so informally.
William Sullivan Appleton was the son of Nathan Appleton’s cousin, William Appleton, making him a second cousin to Tom, Molly, and Fanny. “Willie” was very close to the family and invited on the tour even though he was known to have a sickly constitution. He had enjoyed the trip until he became ill in Italy, thus prompting the family to seek out the mountain airs of Switzerland in hopes it would revive his health. That he would have anticipated the turn of his illness enough to make arrangements for an early return from the start is of my own creation.
Chapter Two
Nearly a year before meeting the Appleton family in Interlaken, another Appleton, John James Appleton, had assisted one of Mary Potter Longfellow’s traveling companions, Mary Goddard, to return to Portland after her father had died unexpectedly. I used that connection as an excuse for Henry to have sought out the Appleton family, though I am unsure it was the case and do not know for certain if or how John James was related to Nathan Appleton.
The facts regarding Mary Potter’s death are consistent with what I learned in my research, and though I found it surprising that Henry and Clara Crowninshield would continue the tour following Mary’s death, I came to understand that such tours—especially for Americans—were a trip of a lifetime. Deposits were made in advance and a great deal of work went into making the arrangements. To leave early would lose the investment of both time and money. It was not unusual for those parties who experienced a death to continue forward as Henry did.
It was also reasonable for him to fear that he would not receive the position at Harvard if he did not have recent European credential, as faculty was often based on family connection, and Henry’s was not equal to that of Harvard’s expectations. Without the education of his trip to Europe, he had little recommendation.
In his journals following Mary’s death, Henry wrote of experiencing a heavy depression. He wrote, “What a solitary, lonely being I am. Why do I travel? Every hour my heart aches with sadness.”
Henry met up with the Appleton party in Interlaken on July 31, 1836. Fanny recorded in her journal that he was not an old man after all, unless perhaps he was the poet’s son.
Outré Mer
was first published anonymously in America in 1833. It was common at that time for unknown authors to leave their name off their works until and unless those works became popular, but the identity was often known through whisperings and speculation. The British publication took place after Henry had left for Europe, and he saw the first copies in London. An American editor working in Denmark criticized the book when Henry asked after it during a meeting, not realizing Henry was the author.
Chapters Three through Five
After meeting the Appleton family, Henry traveled with them for some time, another common aspect of the Grand Tour. He certainly spent time with Fanny, but he was especially attentive to William, and the friendship he established with Tom Appleton would last throughout his life. Though he did not specifically comment on it at the time, in later years he said that he first fell in love with Fanny during this time they spent together. For Fanny’s part, she found much to admire in Henry but did not identify her feelings as love for another six years.
Chapter Six
Henry was progressive in his thoughts on equality and education but not particularly outspoken this early in his life. I combined several of his sentiments shared throughout his life to create the conversation he and Fanny have regarding his thoughts on education as a whole but, specifically, the education of women. I found no indication that Fanny would have been surprised by his feelings, but I chose for her to be so as to show how Henry’s opinions differed from the prevailing belief of the time. Henry was always very complimentary toward Fanny’s intellect; he often said it was what first attracted him to her.