850.1864.Defrauded I a Butterfly –

Defrauded I a Butterfly –
The lawful Heir – for Thee –

ED is still fuming about Wadsworth walking with her at dusk in the Dickinson apple orchard (at her suggestion), and then plying her with honeyed words of love until, after dark in a remote corner of the orchard, she gave in. After their walk, he took his departure, and as they said goodbye, in ED’s words, they looked deep into each other’s eyes:

“Most—I love the Cause that slew Me.
Often as I die
Its beloved Recognition
Holds a Sun on Me—

“Best—at Setting—as is Nature’s—
Neither witnessed Rise
Till the infinite Aurora
In the other’s eyes.”

I interpret these last two stanzas of ‘Struck, was I, not yet by Lightning—’ [Stanzas 5-6, Fr841] as:

5. And the strangest thing is that I still love Wadsworth, even though he seduced me. I die of shame each day that passes, but at the same time his recognition of me is the Sun of my life.

6. Just as a sunset is most inspiring as the Sun sinks behind the horizon, the best part of our summer day was as he was leaving. Neither spoke, but we peered deep into each other’s eyes and saw an infinite sunrise.
……………………………………………………………….

The Amherst train station was one block east of “Homestead” on Main Street, which made Wadsworth’s escape easy. No doubt, he hopped on the night train to Northampton, MA, 12 miles SW of Amherst, where he was visiting his old seminary roommate, James Clark, and I suspect the next morning he caught the Philadelphia train for the 250-mile trip south to home. Judging from the many poems ED wrote after her summer 1860 seduction in which she wonders if Wadsworth is alive or dead, I suspect he never again responded to her letters. By many, I mean 931 poems, 52% of her lifetime productivity, were composed during 1861-1865.Here’s one example:

F349, ‘He touched me, so I live to know’, “about summer 1862” (Franklin 1998)

He touched me, so I live to know
That such a day, permitted so,
I groped upon his breast –

It was a boundless place to me
And silenced, as the awful Sea
Puts minor streams to rest.

And now, I’m different from before,
As if I breathed superior air—
Or brushed a Royal Gown—
My feet, too, that had wandered so—
My Gypsy face—transfigured now—
To tenderer Renown—

Into this Port, if I might come,
Rebecca, to Jerusalem,
Would not so ravished turn—
Nor Persian, baffled at her shrine
Lift such a Crucifixial sign
To her imperial Sun.

Well, almost “never”:
That 1860 evening at Homestead was not the last time ED saw Wadsworth. He visited her again during summer 1880 after receiving her four-line invitation (F1485, late 1878):

“Spurn the temerity —
Rashness of Calvary —
Gay were Gethsemane
Knew we of Thee —”

This time he did not RSVP but simply showed up at her front door after giving an invited sermon at James Clark’s church in Northampton, MA. This visit took courage, both for ED when she invited him and for Wadsworth when he knocked on her door without sending an RSVP:

“The last time he came in Life, I was with my Lilies and Heliotropes, said my Sister to me, “the Gentleman with the deep voice wants to see you, Emily,” hearing him ask of the Servant.

“Where did you come from,” I said, for he spoke like an Apparition. “I stepped from my Pulpit from to the Train” was [his] simple reply, and when I asked “how long”, “Twenty Years” said he with inscrutable roguery – but the loved Voice has ceased.”

Letter JL1040 to Charles Clark, April 15, 1886, one month before ED died. Wadsworth died on April 1, 1882.
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PS. “Calvary” was ED’s codeword for Wadsworth and “Gethsemane” was her codename for herself

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After commenting on Poems 1-763 (Franklin) on The Prowling Bee’, I am convinced that (virtually) all of Emily Dickinson’s (ED’s) poems have a factual historical level in addition to their various poetic levels of meaning. The reason for her instant and continuing public adulation (1890 - present) was and is, by far, poetic. She is one of the "Greats" that she always dreamed to be, despite her lifelong refusal to publish. That refusal freed her from criticism and allowed her to explore the outer boundaries of poetic power.

More than a century of scholarly research has resulted in somewhere between 10,000 and 100,000 books and published academic papers about ED. A large majority of these publications focus only on the “poetic levels” of one or more of ED’s poems. Publications that consider both the “historic level” and “poetic levels” comprise a small minority. Publications that focus only on the factual history of her life probably number less than 100. (All numbers in this paragraph are my estimates.)

Unfortunately for ED’s universe of readers, these two basic levels (historical and poetic) cannot be separated into two ivory towers. Every history-level publication that I know of includes at least some discussion of the poetic level(s).

The reverse is not true. In fact, authors of the “poetry-level” school seem to avoid commenting on the historical level, sometimes admonishing that a poem must stand on its own, without concern for its historical roots. To my knowledge, there are (virtually) no published “history-level” books or articles that totally ignore ED’s poems and their poetic levels.

Of course, ED’s refusal to publish her poems was only possible because of lifelong financial and daily social/housekeeping support by her family, especially her father and sister, respectively. In addition, throughout her life, the Dickinsons hired servants, first Negro and later Irish, some of whom became much more than housekeepers for ED.

My point is that our appreciation of ED's poems can be enhanced by understanding both poetic and historical levels of her sound and sense. We impoverish ourselves if we ignore their historical base.