After Emily

by Julie Dobrow

  Mabel and Millicent were not the only ones to share this view. In an article in the Saturday Review of Literature, poet, critic and editor Louis Untermeyer wrote, “Readers waited for Emily Dickinson’s niece to affirm, amplify, or repudiate; to say six definite sentences that would clarify the situation; to explain the too-mysterious discovery of the Further Poems, variously stated to have been suppressed or buried or withheld by Sister Lavinia. But not a phrase was forthcoming . . . Martha Dickinson Bianchi contented herself with a few generalities by way of introduction to the 1930 edition of the Poems, adding nothing and subtracting nothing from her vaguely outlined story.” Untermeyer concluded, “We should have an accurate Emily Dickinson, and we should have her complete.”11 Mabel, of course, was thrilled by this proclamation. In her journal she noted, “indifferent people are starting up, with intent to suppress Mattie, who had been smiling in lordly intent to remain Emily’s grand relative . . . Louis Untermeyer . . . is of course a very important literary writer, and [his] words will be at least arresting, if not more.”12

  Mabel also firmly believed that Mattie’s work had set in motion a series of off-the-mark speculations about Emily and her life. As she wrote in her introduction to the second edition of Letters: “For several years, it seems, a feeling has been growing among students of Emily’s life that something is wrong. Their picture of her in her setting is not altogether true. They have been coming to me, with increasing insistence as time goes on, begging me to speak.”13 She felt that the images of Emily promulgated by others (principally Mattie) portrayed an otherworldly sprite, not someone with a grounded and profound understanding of the natural world and human nature. She pointed to “a widely used picture” of Emily in a ruffled dress as also giving a false impression of the woman who, at least throughout the last part of her life, wore simple white dresses. Mabel believed that “the careful reader” would look back to her earlier works “to find the real Emily.” But since her earlier books were out of print, Mabel—with Millicent’s very able assistance—resolved to step back into the world of Dickinson publishing and present the version of Emily she believed more accurate.

  MABEL AND MILLICENT ON HOG ISLAND, WORKING ON THE NEW EDITION OF EMILY DICKINSON’S LETTERS.

  Millicent and Mabel set to work sorting the Dickinson family letters from the camphorwood chest and preparing for a reissue of the 1894 book of Emily’s letters with expanded content. They had two goals: first, to correct the errors in Mattie’s 1924 edition of Life and Letters of Emily Dickinson and restore the original quotes and context to the previously published letters, and second, to add in additional letters that had not been included in her original edition. “We assumed that the original text was sufficiently accurate to be followed without attempting to change the sequence within the different letters to the various correspondents.”14Among the never before published letters were some regarding Reverend Charles Wadsworth in Philadelphia, one of the men later speculated to be the object of Emily’s so-called Master letters. (Wadsworth, minister of the Arch Street Church, maintained an active correspondence with Emily for two decades, until his death, even after he moved to San Francisco in 1862.) Mabel and Millicent also chose to identify some people whom the previous edition of letters had left anonymous, mostly at Austin’s behest, or out of deference to those who at the time were still living and who “wanted their identity disguised, or reference to their personal sorrow omitted.” As Mabel wrote in her preface to the 1931 book, she believed it important to include these letters and names because “now, after thirty-seven years . . . her life is revamped to suit the taste of the times, and Emily herself has all but vanished in the process.”15 In one version of this preface in her collected papers at Yale, Mabel added handwritten edits suggesting “a second edition affords the opportunity to supply missing parts, thereby giving a more complete impression of Emily.”16

  As Elizabeth Horan points out, “Martha Dickinson Bianchi’s editing and memoirs restore[d] Susan’s name,”17 while systematically removing Mabel’s. It’s also interesting to note that Mattie chose to edit out the Todds with her scissors. In the Martha Dickinson Bianchi papers at Brown University, there’s a copy of the “tear sheet” from Millicent’s book Ancestors’ Brocades, describing her mother’s efforts to gather and publish Emily’s letters. It is literally torn from the book. Similarly, Harvard’s Houghton Library Dickinson family collection holds a copy of Mabel’s 1894 Letters of Emily Dickinson with the title page bearing Mabel’s name cut out.

  MARTHA (MATTIE) DICKINSON BIANCHI.

  Though Mabel didn’t write in her journal very often after her 1913 stroke, a few entries document aspects of her work on this project. In November of 1930 she wrote, “Another whole summer passed without any record here. But this summer I have been especially busy with Emily Dickinson. I have looked over my volumes of her printed letters with reference to re-publishing and re-copywriting, and I have examined my own journals to get out material for that possible book, and I have written a lot of stuff which may be used later.” She noted “dear Millicent” spent two months at Hog Island, assisting her with these endeavors.18

  As she had with her other volumes of Emily’s poems and letters, Mabel knew that the best way to publicize them was to create prepublication chatter by injecting herself back into the world of Emily Dickinson authorities. Her 1930 article in Harper’s Magazine, “Emily Dickinson’s Literary Debut,” signaled Mabel’s return to this particular public arena. Harper’s invited her to write additional articles, and she had several in the works. For example, among Mabel’s papers at Yale is a draft of one article Mabel titled “The Story of Emily Dickinson,” which is really the story of her reediting and reissuing of the Letters. Mabel wrote of how “those poignant letters, some of which rank among the greatest ever written, tell a story of herself second in importance only to that of her poetry.”19

  Mabel intrinsically understood the value of a publicity stunt to promote her work. In December of 1930 she threw a large party at Matsuba to mark the centenary of Emily’s birth—and made certain that this event got written up in all the society pages. In her journal she recorded that over two hundred people attended despite what was for Florida “an intensely cold night.” The party “was exceedingly successful,” she wrote. “I gave a truly brilliant talk, about which I have heard continually since then.”20

  Mabel was back.

  Harper & Brothers in New York scheduled the “new and enlarged” edition of Emily Dickinson’s letters for publication in the fall of 1931. “I have added much new information in the notes connecting them, and there are many letters omitted in the first edition,” wrote Mabel. “Millicent has practically spent her whole winter in all this work, and has made all the arrangements with the publishers. I can never be grateful enough to her, and never do enough to show it. I could never have conducted the whole thing to so triumphant a finish by myself.” With some chagrin, she admitted, “Although I appear to be a whole person I am far from it. I have to rest, and stupidly must look out for this silly person. The sun stroke which so nearly finished me still take [sic] toll; but I do not wish to die until I have published dear Austin’s memorable letters to me, and until I have written most of my autobiography.”21

  But of course, Mabel and Millicent’s volume would not be published without igniting further controversy. Mattie Dickinson Bianchi wrote to her attorney, “It is in regard to these ‘new’ letters—and any other unpublished letters in the possession of Mrs. Todd or anyone else—that I feel my rights must absolutely and definitely be established in order to prevent confusion and litigation in the future.”22

  “As soon as it was announced Harpers received a protest from Theodore Frothingham, Mrs. Bianchi’s lawyer,” Millicent recounted. “He stated that for the past seventeen years since the death of her mother in 1913, Mrs. Bianchi had been the sole heir of Emily Dickinson and that she claimed exclusive right to publish anything written by her aunt and that the proposed book was being published
without her knowledge or consent.” But, Millicent added, Harper’s legal counsel “agreed that assertion of such exclusive rights was not in the public interest and advised going ahead. So the book was published in 1931. Nothing further was heard from Mr. Frothingham.”23

  Contemporary scholar Elizabeth Horan notes, “The 1931 comeback of Mabel Loomis Todd, aided by her daughter Millicent Todd Bingham, was a nightmare for Bianchi, for it was the first sign of an alliance between publishers and critics who viewed Bianchi’s claims as an obstacle to overcome. Todd’s success in publishing her reedited letters without obtaining permissions from Bianchi or her publishers led the interested parties to work behind Bianchi’s back.”24

  Mabel and Millicent’s reissue of Emily’s letters was still far from a complete rendering. Not surprisingly, they did not include any of the correspondence with Susan Dickinson. They also omitted several letters that were in their possession that Mabel judged too private to present to the world just yet.

  Critical reaction to Mabel and Millicent’s 1931 edition was generally positive. Writing in the New York Times, Edna Lou Walton stated the book was “important,” although she noted that in the years since Mabel’s 1894 edition was published, “much water has flowed under the bridge” with the publication of Mattie Dickinson Bianchi’s books, including her 1924 biography Life and Letters of Emily Dickinson and Genevieve Taggard’s 1930 The Life and Mind of Emily Dickinson, and suggested “there is doubtlessly much data still missing.” She also castigated Mabel for not including any of the correspondence between Emily and Sue, and for not shedding light on the mystery of Emily’s loves.25

  But the scholarly community was more enthusiastic, focusing on how this new edition illuminated the context of Emily Dickinson’s life and helped to create a sharper image of both the poet and the poetry. Wrote poet Marianne Moore in the January 1933 edition of Poetry, “If we care about the poems, we value the connection in which certain poems and sayings originated. The chief importance of the letters, however, is their establishing the wholesomeness of the life.” In an unpublished master’s thesis on the critical reception to publication of Emily Dickinson’s poetry and letters in the early twentieth century, emerging Dickinson scholar Ruth Corrigan concurred, concluding about the importance of Mabel and Millicent’s 1931 work: “the new edition brought forth a new Emily Dickinson.”26

  Historian and radical political activist Morris Schappes pointed out that because Mabel’s edition still did not contain any of Emily’s letters to Sue Dickinson, and the 1924 edition by Mattie did, both volumes should be considered together as a way of seeing the full spectrum of Emily’s correspondence. Schappes devoted most of his article to correcting the errors in Mattie’s version of the Letters, citing Mabel’s versions of the letters as the accurate and definitive source in almost every instance.27

  Amherst College English professor George Whicher wrote an extended review of the 1931 volume of Letters in the journal American Literature, in which he praised all of Mabel’s work on editing and publishing Emily’s poems and letters over the years: “That we have an adequate selection from her correspondence in a transcription that can be trusted and with a large number of items at least approximately dated is due to Mrs. Mabel Loomis Todd, whose pioneer services in editing the Emily Dickinson papers have not always been sufficiently acknowledged,” he wrote. Though he suggested Mabel and Higginson’s groupings and editing of the poems “may fairly be challenged,” he called the new edition of Letters “the definitive edition,” adding, “we may thank fortune that Emily Dickinson fell into the hands of an editor who did not attempt to change her fairy wine into lemonade.”28

  Mabel recounted the achievement of this book in her journal: “Well, I got out the new edition of Emily Dickinson’s Letters, and it was an immediate and really overwhelming success, the first edition being completely sold out on the first day, November fifth, 1931. And people have asked me for talks.” But she concluded this entry by opining that the book wasn’t just about her own success, it was also about Emily’s legacy: “and she is adored for the genius she is.”29

  Mabel spent the summer of 1932 on Hog Island, as she had spent so many of the summers that preceded it—socializing with those who lived in nearby towns on the mainland and those who came to visit her on the island, passing great amounts of time with Howard Hilder, walking through the woods, and working on a rock garden. Millicent and Walter spent most of the summer with her, Millicent assisting Mabel by getting her scrapbooks more up to date, and helping her to organize other materials in preparation for further Dickinson work.

  Mabel wrote only one entry in her journal during the summer season on Hog Island. As ever, Mabel found it important to record how industrious she had been and what she still wished to accomplish. “I really want to finish many important pieces of work before I go,” she wrote. “And I have three volumes in progress.”30 But it was work that Mabel was never able to complete.

  On October 14, Millicent was in Poughkeepsie, visiting a friend. Walter called her to read her two telegrams, one informing her that her mother had fallen ill, and the other, that she had died.

  Millicent did not record in her diary or journal anything of her feelings that day, or the several days following Mabel’s death. Three days later she noted that she had called her father to tell him about Mabel’s death: “From ‘Mr. Todd speaking’ to ‘no’ in response to my query whether he had anything to say, his voice betrayed no emotion,” she wrote. But Millicent couldn’t cry yet, either.31

  “Our dear friend Mabel Loomis Todd died suddenly at her camp Mavooshen soon after noon on Friday last,” Howard Hilder wrote to Arthur Curtiss James.

  We had planned to start the drive South next Wednesday, and she was sorting out bureau drawers for packing as I was at my Studio just a mile off the northeast corner of the island and due to return at noon. I was within a couple of hundred yards . . . so dropped my things and ran. She was on the verandah hammock groaning terribly, she just recognized me, then began retching violently. I held her in my arms and tried to ease her. Occasionally she tried to speak and indicated a violent headache, although she could not pronounce distinctly.

  The doctor came after 1 p.m. “Cerebral hemorrhage! Not so good!” . . . I followed instructions and watched. The breathing got calmer and calmer and by 3 I could detect no sign of life. At 4:30 he returned with the nurse and pronounced her dead. I telegraphed Millicent who came with Walter the next morning. . . . It will always be a joy to me that I left her in the morning radiant and happy.32

  On the evening of Mabel’s funeral, Millicent wrote in her journal:

  Dear, precious little mamma! Oh, the thing that I can’t bear—that I can never bear is that I left her. Part of me is gone—perhaps most of me. She is entertwined with every little flitty leaf and bird note . . . she is a part of every memory—since my earliest childhood, nothing apart from her has ever happened. The bond is the closest on earth—I never knew it before, because of alien points of view because I disapproved of many things, because I didn’t understand. She got on my nerves. . . . I could work my fingers to the bone for her, do chores, attend to errands, write books till I dropped in my tracks.

  She reflected on the day: “Oh, that beautiful wilderness and the brilliant foliage and now and then a falling leaf on her flower-laden casket creaking down, down into the deep grave, and the mist-laden air and the poignant notes of the white-throated sparrows that filled the trees—trembling, sweet. . . . The woods were aflame with red and yellow.”33

  MABEL’S ENGRAVING OF THE ETHEREAL INDIAN PIPE WILDFLOWERS; SHE GAVE A PANEL TO EMILY DICKINSON IN 1882. THIS BECAME THE COVER OF THE FIRST BOOK OF DICKINSON’S POETRY IN 1890, AND REMAINED SUCH A POWERFUL SYMBOL IN MABEL’S LIFE THAT MILLICENT HAD IT ENGRAVED ON HER MOTHER’S TOMBSTONE.

  Mabel’s tombstone reads:

  IN LOVING MEMORY OF

  Mabel Loomis Todd

  10th November 1856–14th October 1932

  Daughter of
<
br />   Eben Jenks and Mary Alden Wilder Loomis

  Wife of David Todd

  That such have died enables us

  The tranquiller to die;

  That such have lived, certificate

  For immortality.

  The verse, of course, is an Emily Dickinson poem.34

  As was her habit, Millicent made a scrapbook after Mabel’s death. It begins with the two telegrams. The rest of the album, perhaps five or six inches thick, its bindings now broken and leather chipping, is filled with hundreds of condolence notes and letters. They came from around the world: from relatives and friends, neighbors from Amherst and Florida and Maine, colleagues of David’s and Millicent’s and Walter’s. They came from publishers and poets and people in the literary world. The last note Millicent glued into this album came from someone whose name she somehow chose not to record or preserve. But the sentiment it expressed seemed so universally held among those who wrote to Millicent that its authorship almost does not matter. It read in part, “I like to remember her as living. She was so well made for living. She lived so much and so completely, last year at this time, what a ravishing picture, the pink dress, the jewels, the eyes more shining than the jewels. She was carrying forward the beautiful pure spirit of Emily Dickinson.”35