In Hall Caine’s Recollections of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, he touches briefly on Lizzie’s exhumation to retrieve the manuscript of poems that DGR had placed in her coffin.
“Rossetti had buried the only complete copy of his poems with his wife at Highgate, and for a time he had been able to put by the thought of them; but as one by one his friends, Mr. Morris, Mr. Swinburne, and others, attained to distinction as poets, he began to hanker after poetic reputation, and to reflect with pain and regret upon the hidden fruits of his best effort. Rossetti—in all love of his memory be it spoken—was after all a frail mortal; of unstable character: of variable purpose: a creature of impulse and whim, and with a plentiful lack of the backbone of volition. With less affection he would not have buried his book; with more strength of will he had not done so; or, having done so, he had never wished to undo what he had done; or having undone it, he would never have tormented himself with the memory of it as of a deed of sacrilege. But Rossetti had both affection enough to do it and weakness enough to have it undone. After an infinity of self-communions he determined to have the grave opened, and the book extracted. Endless were the preparations necessary before such a work could be begun. Mr. Home Secretary Bruce had to be consulted. At length preliminaries were complete, and one night, seven and a half years after the burial, a fire was built by the side of the grave, and then the coffin was raised and opened. The body is described as perfect upon coming to light.
Whilst this painful work was being done the unhappy author of it was sitting alone and anxious, and full of self-reproaches at the house of the friend who had charge of it. He was relieved and thankful when told that all was over. The volume was not much the worse for the years it had lain in the grave. Deficiencies were filled in from memory, the manuscript was put in the press, and in 1870 the reclaimed work was issued under the simple title of Poems.”
In the next paragraph, he tells us that Rossetti’s book was quite successful and that during that time, ‘fresh poetry and new poets arose, even as they now arise, with all the abundance and timeliness of poppies in autumn.”‘
I find it interesting that Caine chose poppies as a descriptor. The poppy ( Papaver somniferum) is the source of opiates, from which laudanum is derived. Poppies, then, were at one time the source of Lizzie’s comfort during illness, eventually becoming the source of her addiction and death.
Rossetti painted Lizzie with open hands, waiting to receive a poppy from the dove in Beata Beatrix.
In symbolism related to Elizabeth Siddal, the poppy is indeed a poignant choice.
4 thoughts on “Hall Caine on Elizabeth Siddal’s Exhumation”
Hall Caine is so unintentionally hilarious! I love how scared he was of Fanny.
You’re not the only one! I’ve read this passage somewhere, but don’t recall pinging the poppy image then. But I’ve been playing with that thread a lot in my head since my recent visit to the Art Institute to finally see Beata Beatrix (the first oil replica) in person, so now I take notice every time they’re mentioned. Thanks for sharing this today!
And the things do pop up like crazy in England. One of my favorite childhood memories is of our lawn at RAF Lakenheath covered in tiny wild daisies in spring and early summer, and poppies in the late summer and fall. (Much prettier than dandelions, though I’m perhaps more kindly disposed toward those than most too!) A friend and I used to run through them over and over again, headed for an imaginary Emerald City!
I love the way he says “After an infinity of self-communions” Rossetti had the grave opened. Ah, I wish we all still spoke that way 😉
Very interesting about the poppies too.
It certainly is striking now, I wonder too about his choice of the word poppy.
“But Rossetti had both affection enough to do it and weakness enough to have it undone.” oh goodness and doesn’t this say so much!
Thank you for sharing!