The Poem
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| Within our happy Castle there dwelt One Whom without blame I may not overlook; For never sun on living creature shone Who more devout enjoyment with us took: Here on his hours he hung as on a book, On his own time here would he float away, As doth a fly upon a summer brook; But go to-morrow, or belike to-day, Seek for him,—he is fled; and whither none can say. Thus often would he leave our peaceful home, And find elsewhere his business or delight; Out of our Valley's limits did he roam: Full many a time, upon a stormy night, His voice came to us from the neighbouring height: Oft could we see him driving full in view At midday when the sun was shining bright; What ill was on him, what he had to do, A mighty wonder bred among our quiet crew. Ah! piteous sight it was to see this Man When he came back to us, a withered flower,— Or like a sinful creature, pale and wan. Down would he sit; and without strength or power Look at the common grass from hour to hour: And oftentimes, how long I fear to say, Where apple-trees in blossom made a bower, Retired in that sunshiny shade he lay; And, like a naked Indian, slept himself away. Great wonder to our gentle tribe it was Whenever from our Valley he withdrew; For happier soul no living creature has Than he had, being here the long day through. Some thought he was a lover, and did woo: Some thought far worse of him, and judged him wrong; But verse was what he had been wedded to; And his own mind did like a tempest strong Come to him thus, and drove the weary Wight along. With him there often walked in friendly guise, Or lay upon the moss by brook or tree, A noticeable Man with large grey eyes, And a pale face that seemed undoubtedly As if a blooming face it ought to be; Heavy his low-hung lip did oft appear, Deprest by weight of musing Phantasy; Profound his forehead was, though not severe; Yet some did think that he had little business here: Sweet heaven forefend! his was a lawful right; Noisy he was, and gamesome as a boy; His limbs would toss about him with delight Like branches when strong winds the trees annoy. Nor lacked his calmer hours device or toy To banish listlessness and irksome care; He would have taught you how you might employ Yourself; and many did to him repair,— And certes not in vain; he had inventions rare. Expedients, too, of simplest sort he tried: Long blades of grass, plucked round him as he lay, Made, to his ear attentively applied, A pipe on which the wind would deftly play; Glasses he had, that little things display, The beetle panoplied in gems and gold, A mailed angel on a battle-day; The mysteries that cups of flowers enfold, And all the gorgeous sights which fairies do behold. He would entice that other Man to hear His music, and to view his imagery: And, sooth, these two were each to the other dear: No livelier love in such a place could be: There did they dwell-from earthly labour free, As happy spirits as were ever seen; If but a bird, to keep them company, Or butterfly sate down, they were, I ween, As pleased as if the same had been a Maiden-queen. [Note] [Contents 1802] [Main Contents] | [1] [2] [3] [4] | [A] [B] [C] | 5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 |
| 1836 | |
| ... did ... | 1815 |
... did ...
| 1827 | |
| The beetle with his radiance manifold, | 1815 |
The beetle with his radiance manifold,
| 1827 | |
| And cups of flowers, and herbage green and gold; | 1815 |
And cups of flowers, and herbage green and gold;
| 1836 | |
| And, sooth, these two did love each other dear, As far as love in such a place could be; | 1815 |
And, sooth, these two did love each other dear,
As far as love in such a place could be;
Compare
'And oft he traced the uplands to survey,
When o'er the sky advanced the kindling dawn,
The crimson cloud.'
Beattie's Minstrel, book I, st. 20.
'And oft the craggy cliff he loved to climb
When all in mist the world below was lost.'
Book I. st. 21.
'
And of each gentle, and each dreadful scene
In darkness, and in storm, he found delight.'
Book I. st. 22. Ed.
Compare the stanza in A Poet's Epitaph (p. 77), beginning
'He is retired as noontide dew.'
Ed.
Many years ago Canon Ainger pointed out to me a parallel between Beattie's description of The Minstrel and Wordsworth's account of himself in this poem. It is somewhat curious that Dorothy Wordsworth, writing to Miss Pollard from Forncett in 1793, quotes the line from The Minstrel, book I. stanza 22,
"In truth he was a strange and wayward wight,"
and adds
"That verse of Beattie's Minstrel always reminds me of him, and indeed the whole character of Edwin resembles much what William was when I first knew him after leaving Halifax."
Mr. T. Hutchinson called the attention of Professor Dowden to the same resemblance between the two pictures. With lines 35, 36, compare in Shelley's Adonais, stanza xxxi.:
'And his own thoughts, along that rugged way,
Pursued, like raging hounds, their father and their prey.'
Ed.
Note:
There can now be no doubt that, in the first four of these Stanzas, Wordsworth refers to himself; and that, in the last four, he refers to Coleridge. For a time it was uncertain whether in the earlier stanzas he had Coleridge, or himself, in view; and whether, in the later ones, some one else was, or was not, described. De Quincey, quoting (as he often did) in random fashion, mixes up extracts from each set of the stanzas, and applies them both to Coleridge; and Dorothy Wordsworth, in her Journal, gives apparent (though only apparent) sanction to a reverse order of allusion, by writing of "the stanzas about C. and himself" (her brother). The following are her references to the poem in that Journal:
"9th May (1802).-After tea he (W.) wrote two stanzas in the manner of Thomson's Castle of Indolence, and was tired out.
"10th May.—William still at work, though it is past ten o'clock ... William did not sleep till three o'clock."
"11th May.—William finished the stanzas about C. and himself. He did not go out to-day. ... He completely finished his poem. He went to bed at twelve o'clock."
From these extracts two things are evident,
- who the persons are described in the stanzas, and
- the immense labour bestowed upon the poem.
In the Memoirs of Wordsworth, by the late Bishop of Lincoln, there is a passage (vol. ii. chap. li. p. 309) amongst the "Personal Reminiscences, 1836," in which the Hon. Mr. Justice Coleridge virtually decides the question of the identity of the two persons referred to, in his record of a conversation with the poet. It is as follows:
"October 10th.—I have passed a great many hours to-day with Wordsworth in his home. I stumbled on him with proof sheets before him. He read me nearly all the sweet stanzas written in his copy of the Castle of Indolence, describing himself and my uncle; and he and Mrs. W. both assured me the description of the latter at that time was perfectly accurate; and he was almost as a great boy in feelings, and had all the tricks and fancies there described. Mrs. W. seemed to look back on him, and those times, with the fondest affection."
I think "the neighbouring height" referred to is the height of White Moss Common, behind the Fir-Grove, where Wordsworth was often heard murmuring out his verses," booing" as the country folks said: and the
'driving full in view
At midday when the sun was shining bright,'
aptly describes his habits as recorded in his sister's Journal, and elsewhere. The "withered flower," the "creature pale and wan," are significant of those terrible reactions of spirit, which followed his joyous hours of insight and inspiration. Stanzas IV. to VII. of Resolution and Independence (p. 314), in which Wordsworth undoubtedly described himself, may be compared with stanza III. of this poem. The lines
'Down would he sit; and without strength or power
Look at the common grass from hour to hour,'
are aptly illustrated by such passages in his sister's Journal, as the following, of 29th April 1802:
"We went to John's Grove, sate a while at first; afterwards William lay, and I lay in the trench, under the fence—he with his eyes closed, and listening to the waterfalls and the birds. There was no one waterfall above another—it was a kind of water in the air—the voice of the air. We were unseen by one another."
Again, April 23rd,
"Coleridge and I pushed on before. We left William sitting on the stones, feasting with silence."
And this recalls the first verse of Expostulation and Reply, written at Alfoxden in 1798;
Why, William, on that old grey stone,
Thus for the length of half a day,
Why, William, sit you thus alone,
And dream your time away?'
The retreat where "apple-trees in blossom made a bower," and where he so often "slept himself away," was evidently the same as that described in the poem The Green Linnet:
'Beneath these fruit-tree boughs that shed
Their snow white blossoms on my head.'
On the other hand, the "low-hung lip" and "profound" forehead of the other, the "noticeable Man with large grey eyes," mark him out as S. T. C.; "the rapt One, of the god-like forehead," described in the Extempore Effusion upon the Death of James Hogg. The description "Noisy he was, and gamesome as a boy," is verified by what the poet and his wife said to Mr. Justice Coleridge in 1836. In addition, Mr. Hutchinson of Kimbolton tells me he "often heard his father say that Coleridge was uproarious in his mirth."
Matthew Arnold wrote me an interesting letter some years ago about these stanzas, from which I make the following extract:
"When one looks uneasily at a poem it is easy to fidget oneself further, and neither the Wordsworth nor the Coleridge of our common notions seem to be exactly hit off in the Stanzas; still, I believe that the first described is Wordsworth and that the second described is Coleridge. I have myself heard Wordsworth speak of his prolonged exhausting wanderings among the hills. Then Miss Fenwick's notes show that Coleridge is certainly one of the two personages of the poem, and there are points in the description of the second man which suit him very well. The profound forehead is a touch akin to the god-like forehead in the mention of Coleridge in a later poem.
"I have a sort of recollection of having heard something about the inventions rare, and Coleridge is certain to have dabbled, at one time or other, in natural philosophy."
In 1796 Coleridge wrote to his friend Cottle from Nether Stowey:
" ... I should not think of devoting less than 20 years to an Epic Poem: ten to collect materials and warm my mind with universal science. I would be a tolerable Mathematician, I would thoroughly know Mechanics, Hydrostatics, Optics, and Astronomy, Botany, Metallurgy, Fossilism, Chemistry, Geology, Anatomy, Medicine—then the mind of man—then the minds of men—in all Travels, Voyages, and Histories. So I would spend ten years—the next five to the composition of the poem—and the last five to the correction of it. So would I write, haply not unhearing of the divine and rightly whispering Voice," etc.
Mr. T. Hutchinson (Dublin) writes in
The Athenæum
, Dec. 15, 1894:
"I take it for granted these lines were written, not only on the fly-leaf of Wordsworth's copy of the Castle of Indolence, but also by way of Supplement to that poem; i. e. as an addendum to the descriptive list of the denizens of the Castle given in stanzas LVII-LXIX of Canto I.; that, in short, they are meant to be read as though they were an after-thought of James Thomson's. Their author, therefore, has rightly imparted to them the curiously blended flavour of romantic melancholy and slippered mirth, of dreamlike vagueness and smiling hyperbole, which forms the distinctive mark of Thomson's poem; and thus the Poet and the Philosopher-Friend of Wordsworth's stanzas, like Thomson's companion sketches of the splenetic Solitary, the bard more fat than bard beseems, and the little, round, fat, oily Man of God, are neither more nor less than gentle caricatures."
It has been suggested by Coleridge's grandson that Wordsworth was describing S. T. C. in all the stanzas of this poem; that he drew two separate pictures of him; in the first four stanzas a realistic "character portrait," and in the last four a "companion picture, figuring the outward semblance of Coleridge, but embodying characteristics drawn from a third person"; so that we have a "fancy sketch" mixed up with a real one. I cannot agree with this. The evidence against it is
- Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal;
- the poet's and his wife's remarks to Mr. Justice Coleridge;
- the fact that Wordsworth was not in the habit of "passing from realism into artistic composition," except where he distinctly indicated it, as in the case of the Hawkshead Schoolmaster, in the "Matthew" poems. Such composite or conglomerate work was quite foreign to Wordsworth's genius.
Ed.
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