Ellen Axson Wilson to Woodrow Wilson

Title

Ellen Axson Wilson to Woodrow Wilson

Creator

Wilson, Ellen Axson

Identifier

EAW06051904

Date

1904 May 5

Description

Ellen Axson Wilson writes to her husband, Woodrow Wilson, during a trip with her daughters to Italy.

Source

Library of Congress

Publisher

Woodrow Wilson Presidential Library & Museum

Subject

Wilson, Woodrow, 1856-1924--Correspondence

Language

English

Spatial Coverage

Florence, Italy

Text

(20)

Florence,

My own darling,

At last, at last we are really reaching the end. I fear it would be more correct to say the beginning of the end of this long separation! Only two more whole days before we start for Geneva! The last Sunday, the last letter! How delightful it is to dwell on these facts. And the morning has come at last and all is well with us in every respect. When I finally got it yesterday afternoon I just had $1.80 left! I should have been in a fine panic, but for Marguerite Walbridge! She stood ready to supply not only my immediate needs, but if the worst came to the worst to furnish the wherewithal for paying my bill here. I am reaching the steamer!. Of course I did not expect to call upon her but it was certainly a comfort to have someone in the background.

And the banks have been so extraordinarily dilatory that we did not know what to expect of them. I think I will celebrate with a wild shopping spree tomorrow afternoon. The Florentine shops are the most wonderful in Europe for their dainty artistic trifles suitable for gifts, and selling for a song; solid silver pins, for instance set with real turquoise for 20 cents, antique solid silver coffee spoons for 30 cents etc. The Smiths and even Mary Hoyt lost their hearts and almost their heads at them! Naturally I have not been into them yet! But there is still time to be even extravagant! I have had two busy delightful days since I last wrote you; in the evening revisiting the chief galleries, this time with dear Jessie in the afternoon going to various churches with Marguerite to see special masterpieces enshrined within them or perhaps a Donatello pulpit, or tomb, or a Luca della Robbia, or a wonderful antique "ambone." Yesterday I was especially interested in the Massacio chapel at the Carmine. Massacio, you know, was the "marvellous boy" who, dying long before he was thirty, had yet time to almost revolutionize art by his profound study of its underlying principles and his extraordinary deeds in their application. Giottos Chapel of Padua, this one in Florence, and the Raphaels and Michelangelos in Rome make the three great epochs in Italian painting. Such a manifestation of genius seems to me peculiarly wonderful in a young man, because it could not come by instinct; in the nature of the case it implies in the addition to "the seeing eye" the deepest investigations of scientific principles. It was rather thrilling to think that on the spot where I stood to see the pictures of Michelangelo, Raphael, all the later great masters of Italian art, had stood to study them day after day, week after week. Massaccio himself lies buried under the pavement, as is fitting, his own works forming his most noble monument.

Which reminds me of our last excursion of the afternoon, we all three drove, just before dinner, to the little Protestant cemetery to see Mrs. Browning's grave and to lay on it a sheaf of white lilies. It is the most beautiful little modern tomb I ever saw. The exquisite little capitals to the small columns are carved with lovely conventionalized white lilies. So I chose the right flower! Just beside it is the almost equally beautiful tomb to Holman Hunt's young wife who died in the first year of their marriage, and to whom, like Browning, he was forever faithful. The inscriptions upon it are most touching. "When thou passeth through the waters I will be with thee, and through the deep waters they shall not overwhelm thee;" and on the other side, "Many waters cannot quench love" etc. Altogether it is a most fitting place for a lover's pilgrimage.

I promised to tell about my trip to Venice today, but it seems almost too large a subject to begin upon now;- for of course I am already beginning to feel the impatience of pen and ink which always overtakes one when a separation draws near its end. But here is a brief outline;- I arrived at seven pm was met by the Smiths, jumped-oh no! gracefully glided!-into their gondola and proceeded up the Grand Canal, stopping a moment at their palace to wash my face. We then went to a little restaurant on a pier just outside the house Ruskin lived in, where we had our dinner and also a view over the lagoon. We meant of course to glide about and watch the moonrise, but a thunderstorm coming up cut the evening short; so I went to my hotel, which had, I think, the finest situation in Venice. It was on the Grand Canal, but just at its end, so that I could see at once up the canal and across the open waters of the lagoon. I had a front room and from my window watched first the magnificent storm effects over the city blending with its innumerable brilliant lights and still more brilliant reflections. I finally managed to go to bed but was too excited to sleep much. At two o'clock I was up again, for by that time, the moon was riding high in the velvety blue Italian sky;-all the lights were out and the scene was of course utterly indescribable. But I managed to go to bed and to sleep again,- until half-past four! Then I was aroused by the dawn, and watched the sunrise deepen from rose-to-gold, the moon still in the midst a globe of shining silver! Oh! I did have another nap however & I started out feeling perfectly fresh at nine o'clock. We, of course, saw the grand piazza first, then "did" the inside of the Ducal Palace-Bridge of Lights & all. After lunch we spent two hours inside of St. Mark's. (I shall make no further comments, not even exclamation points,-have neither the time nor "the languages",-this is a mere catalog.) Then we went to four churches - one for Palina Veechio's great St. Barbara, two for Bellini's, and one for Ruskin's; and, incidentally, Carpaccio's delicious St. George series. Then we rowed across the Lagoon to the Lido for dinner, which we had out of doors of course, with Venice just opposite us in a sunset glow looking like Turner's pictures, "only more so". Try to imagine the return to Venice in that sunset! If you "covet pleasure" for me, dearest, you surely have your desire. After that we glided about the lagoon until half-past ten watching the moon rise and listening to the singing in the boats. They have regular "concert boats" and "all the world" is crowded about them. The lagoon is almost too gay and spectacular on a clear night with its "flash lights," operative music, etc. I like best to watch, if from a long way off.

I was a good girl and actually slept that night, only getting up at sunrise for half an hour. The next day I was at the Bella Arti from nine until three when it closed, coming out 3/4 hour for lunch. Then we went to four more churches in each of which we saw perfectly glorious Titians, Bellinis or Tintorettos some of the greatest masterpieces of all. Then we had dinner at another charming place after which I went straight to the hotel and was in bed by nine. The next morning I returned to Florence as aforesaid!

Your dear dear letter of the 23rd reached me yesterday, - I wonder if it will be the last! I fear it will; but something sweeter than even your letters is soon to follow. The thought of it makes my heart flutter almost painfully. I hardly dare let myself dwell on it much but try to live in the present. Oh how I pray that never again we may have the ocean between us! - I don't need to "pray" that I may never again be on the wrong side of it without you! - But no more of this! - You may imagine how constantly my thoughts have been with you today reading and re-reading as I have done that precious letter, and feeling that it is the last message from my love until I am in his arms. How constantly I shall think of you on the steamer and of all you are about, and the baccalaureate, - and oh! how I shall groan in spirit that I shall be missing it. Next Sunday I shall be with you in spirit and in sympathy every moment. Give devoted love to darling Margaret and Nellie, to Stockton and Madge and all friends. - May God in his mercy, bless us all, dear one, and give us a happy home-coming. I love you with all my heart, my darling, my darling!

Your little wife,
Eileen

Original Format

Letter

To

Wilson, Woodrow, 1856-1924

Files

http://resources.presidentwilson.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/04/EAW06051904.pdf

Citation

Wilson, Ellen Axson, “Ellen Axson Wilson to Woodrow Wilson,” 1904 May 5, EAW06051904 , Ellen Axson Wilson Letters, Woodrow Wilson Presidential Library & Museum, Staunton, Virginia.