"THE MARTIAL COURAGE OF A DAY IS VAIN"
Composed 1810?[A]—Published 1815
The martial courage of a day is vain,
An empty noise of death the battle's roar,
If vital hope be wanting to restore,
Or fortitude be wanting to sustain,
Armies or kingdoms. We have heard a strain 5
Of triumph, how the labouring Danube bore
A weight of hostile corses: drenched with gore
Were the wide fields, the hamlets heaped with slain.
Yet see (the mighty tumult overpast)
Austria a Daughter of her Throne hath sold! 10
And her Tyrolean Champion we behold
Murdered, like one ashore by shipwreck cast,
Murdered without relief. Oh! blind as bold,
To think that such assurance can stand fast!
FOOTNOTES:
[A] I retain this Tyrolese sonnet amongst the others belonging to the same theme; but, as Hofer was shot in 1810, it was probably written in that year.—Ed.
I append to this series of sonnets on the Tyrol and the Tyrolese the translation of a paper contributed by Alois Brandl, a Tyrolean, to the Neue Freie Presse of October 22, 1880. Herr Brandl was for some time in England investigating the traces of a German literary influence on Coleridge, Wordsworth, and their contemporaries.
"It was in the year 1809; Napoleon was at the height of his career of victory; and England alone of all his opponents held the supremacy at sea. For years the English were the only representatives of freedom in Europe. At last it seemed that two fortunate allies arose to join their cause—the insurgents in Spain and in the little land of Tyrol. No wonder then that now British poets sympathised with the victors at the hill of Isel, and praised their courage and their leaders, and at last, when they were overcome by superior forces, laid the laurel wreath of tragic heroism on their graves.
"Thirty or forty years before, English poets would scarcely have shown such a lively interest in a war of independence in a foreign country. They stood under the curse of narrow-mindedness and one-sidedness both in politics and in art, so that their smooth-running verses neither sought nor found a response even in the hearts of their own fellow-countrymen. The poets who appeared before the public in the year 1798 with the famous 'Lyrical Ballads' were the first to strike out a new path. Although differing considerably from one another in other respects, they agreed in their opposition to the conventionality of the old school."
·······
"Wordsworth lived in a simple little house on the romantic lake of Grasmere, in the heart of the mountains of Westmoreland. He studied more in his walks over heath and field than in books, and entered with interest into the questions affecting the good of the country people around him. All this of necessity impelled him to take a warm interest in the herdsmen of the Alps.
"But the Tyrolese inspired him with still greater interest on political grounds. Like all the lake poets, he was an enthusiastic admirer, not of the French revolution, but of the republic as long as it seemed to desire the realization of the ideas of Liberty, Fraternity, Equality, and the rest of Rousseau's Arcadian notions; and it was a bitter disillusion for him, as well as for Klopstock, when this much-praised home of the free rights of man resolved itself into the empire of Napoleon. From this moment he took his place on the side of the enemies of France, and particularly on the side of the Tyrolese, since they had never lost the natural simplicity of their habits, and had regained the hereditary freedom, of which they had been deprived, with the sword. Thus arose the curious paradox, that a republican poet glorified spontaneously the cause of an exceedingly monarchical and conservative country.
"Wordsworth gave vent to his enthusiasm in six sonnets, which, as far as power of language and vigour of thought are concerned, form interesting companion-pieces to the poems of the contemporary Tyrolese poet Alois Weissenbach. In the first three sonnets the splendour of the Alpine world, which he knew from his journeys in Switzerland, forms the background of the picture. In the foreground he sees a band of brave and daring men, in whose hearts he thought he could find all his own moral pathos. Many of the features which he has introduced certainly show more ideal fancy than knowledge of detail; but it was not his purpose to compose a correct report of the war, but to give an exciting description of the heroes of this struggle for independence, in order that, even though they themselves should be overpowered, their spirit might arise again among his own fellow-countrymen. In the fourth sonnet, in his enthusiasm for the Tyrolese, he has treated the German universities with unnecessary severity; but this does not prove any intentional want of fairness on his part, for at that time our universities stood under general discredit in England as the hotbeds of the wildest metaphysics and political dreams. The events of the year 1813 would probably induce Wordsworth to view them in a more favourable light. Similarly the sixth sonnet is not quite just to Austria; in particular Wordsworth has made decidedly too little allowance for the fact that the Emperor Franz I. ceded the Tyrol quite against his own will under the pressure of circumstances. But in this case we must not simply impute all the blame to the poet; for as we see from the diary of his friend Southey, his information as to the doings of Austria was of a most vague and unfavourable character. We, however, cannot have any wish to impute to Austria the sins of ill-advised diplomacy."
The following are Herr Brandl's German translations of five of Wordsworth's sonnets:—
1
Andreas Hofer.
Von Sterblichen geboren sei der Held,
Der den Tirolern todeskühn gebeut?
Ist etwa Tell's Geist aus der Ewigkeit
Gekehrt, zu wecken die verlor'ne Welt?
Er kommt wie Phöbus aus dem Morgenzelt,
Wenn sich die Finsterniß der Nacht zerstreut,
Und doch, wie schlicht! Ein Falkenschweif nur dreut
Von seinem Hut und füllt sein Wappenfeld.
O Freiheit! Wie der Feind erbebt in Rücken
Und Front und gerne flöh' in einer Fluth,
Wär' er nicht halb bedeckt von Felsenstücken,
Gewälzt von dieses Kämpfers Göttermuth!
Geeint sind Berg, Wald, Wildbach, zu erdrücken
Hohnlachend den Tyrann und seine Wuth.
2[B]
Freiheit, ersteig aus deinem Heimatsland
Tirol! du Mädchen ernst und unzähmbar
Und lieblich doch, der Berge Kind fürwahr!
Ein Echo zwischen Fels und Alpenwand.
Und über Gletschern bist du festgebannt;
Ein Echo, das die Jagd im Morgengrau
Vom Schlaf' aufscheucht, daß Berg und Wald und Au
Und Höhle dröhnen, wo's unsichtbar stand,
Sein Spiel verkündend. So urplötzlich strahl',
Du hehre Macht, hervor im Siegeslauf
Durch Wolkenwust, von Klippenknauf zu Knauf,
Durch Almenhütten, durch das grüne Thal;
In dir dann jauchzen alle Alpen auf
Hier, dort und überall mit einem Mal!
3
Gefühle der Tiroler.
»Das Land ist uns vertraut vom Ahngeschlecht:
So sei's vererbt—und kost' es auch das Leben—
Den Kindern: das ist Pflicht und fromm und eben;
Natur und Gott, sie nennen es gerecht.
Wir müssen thun, was möglich, im Gefecht:
Sieh' dies Gebot im Kindesauge leben,
Von Frauenlippen, aus dem Aether schweben;
Ihr Väter selbst aus Grabesmoder sprecht
Es laut empor.—So kling' in Sangesbraus
Der alten Lieder herzliche Musik!
Einstimmen Hirt und Heerde in den Reihen!
Ein opferwillig' Häuflein zieh'n wir aus,
Die Waffen in den Händen, Muth im Blick,
Der Tugend treu, die Menschheit zu befreien.«
4
Was nützt, ach! langes sittenkluges Streiten,
Das man aus »gut« und »böse« preßt mit Müh';
Was dummer Fleiß, zu höh'n die Energie
Und zu transcendentaler Ruh' zu leiten,
Daß jede Leidenschaft sich lasse reiten
Von der Vernunft in Allsuprematie:
Ist das nicht seltsam eitle Theorie,
Wenn Deutschland trotz so viel Spitzfindigkeiten
Dem rohen Schwert erliegt? Erröthen sollen
Die hohen Schulen! Müssen wir nicht sagen:
Mehr wußten wenig Regeln, starkes Wollen
Durch schlichte Alpenhirten auszuführen
Für's Menschenwohl in diesen Unglückstagen,
Als alles stolze Metaphysiciren?
5
Auf die schließliche Unterwerfung der Tiroler.
Ist einer guten Sache galt ihr Schlagen;
Wie hätten bei der Throne Niederfahrt
Sonst sie, die armen Schäfer, sich bewahrt
Begeisternd hohen Sinn und kräftig Wagen?
Auch hat ihr Kampf für's Gute frucht getragen:
Weckt nicht ihr Ruhm, die große Denkungsart
Auch uns den Muth, mit Rechtsgefühl gepaart,
Der nicht zu kaufen ist, nicht zu zernagen?
Schlaft, Kämpfer! Unter euren Bergen ruht!
Dem strengsten Richter kann es nicht entgehen:
Nie kannte euer Herz das Retiriren.
Und bricht in höchster Pein und Rachewuth
Europa los, so sollt ihr auferstehen,
Ganz über euern Feind zu triumphiren!
FOOTNOTES:
[B] Sonette 2 und 4 sind unbetitelt.
"AND IS IT AMONG RUDE UNTUTORED DALES"
Composed 1809.—Published 1809[A]
This and the remaining sonnets of 1809 were placed among those "dedicated to Liberty."—Ed.
And is it among rude untutored Dales,[1]
There, and there only, that the heart is true?
And, rising to repel or to subdue,
Is it by rocks and woods that man prevails?
Ah no! though Nature's dread protection fails, 5
There is a bulwark in the soul.[2] This knew
Iberian Burghers when the sword they drew
In Zaragoza, naked to the gales
Of fiercely-breathing war. The truth was felt
By Palafox, and many a brave compeer, 10
Like him of noble birth and noble mind;
By ladies, meek-eyed women without fear;
And wanderers of the street, to whom is dealt
The bread which without industry they find.
Palafox-y-Melzi, Don Joseph (1780-1847), immortalized by his heroic defence of Saragossa in 1808-9. He was of an old Aragon family, and entered the Spanish army at an early age. In 1808, when twenty-nine years of age, he was appointed governor of Saragossa, by the people of the town, who were menaced by the French armies. He defended it with a few men, against immense odds, and compelled the French to abandon the siege, after sixty-one days' attack, and the loss of thousands. Saragossa, however, was too important to lose, and Marshals Mortier and Moncy renewed the siege with a large army. Palafox (twice defeated outside) retired to the fortress as before, where the men, women, and children fought in defence, till the city was almost a heap of ruins. Typhus attacked the garrison within, while the French army assailed it from without. Palafox, smitten by the fever, had to give up the command to another, who signed a capitulation next day. He was sent a prisoner to Vincennes, and kept there for nearly five years, till the restoration of Ferdinand VII., when he was sent back on a secret mission to Madrid. In 1814 he was appointed Captain-General of Aragon; but for about thirty years—till his death in 1847—he took no part in public affairs.—Ed.
VARIANTS:
[1] 1815.
... vales, 1809.
[2] The word "soul" was italicised in the editions of 1809 to 1832.
FOOTNOTES:
[A] In Coleridge's Friend, December 21.—Ed.
"O'ER THE WIDE EARTH, ON MOUNTAIN AND ON PLAIN"
Composed 1809.—Published 1809[A]
O'er the wide earth, on mountain and on plain,
Dwells in the affections and the soul of man
A Godhead, like the universal Pan;[B]
But more exalted, with a brighter train:
And shall his bounty be dispensed in vain, 5
Showered equally on city and on field,
And neither hope nor stedfast promise yield
In these usurping times of fear and pain?
Such doom awaits us. Nay, forbid it Heaven!
We know the arduous strife, the eternal laws 10
To which the triumph of all good is given,
High sacrifice, and labour without pause,
Even to the death:—else wherefore should the eye
Of man converse with immortality?
FOOTNOTES:
[A] In Coleridge's Friend, December 21.—Ed.
[B] Compare Aubrey de Vere's Picturesque Sketches of Greece and Turkey, vol. i. chap. viii. p. 204.—Ed.
In The Friend (edition 1812), the following footnote occurs—
"... universal Pan,
Knit with the graces and the hours in dance,
Led on the eternal spring.—Milton." Ed.
"HAIL, ZARAGOZA! IF WITH UNWET EYE"
Composed 1809.—Published 1815
Hail, Zaragoza! If with unwet eye
We can approach, thy sorrow to behold,
Yet is the heart not pitiless nor cold;
Such spectacle demands not tear or sigh.
These desolate remains are trophies high 5
Of more than martial courage in the breast
Of peaceful civic virtue:[A] they attest
Thy matchless worth to all posterity.
Blood flowed before thy sight without remorse;
Disease consumed thy vitals; War upheaved 10
The ground beneath thee with volcanic force:
Dread trials! yet encountered and sustained
Till not a wreck of help or hope remained,
And law was from necessity[1] received.[B]
See note to the sonnet beginning "And is it among rude untutored Dales" ([p. 222]). "Saragossa surrendered February 20, 1809, after a heroic defence, which may recall the sieges of Numantiaor Saguntum. Every street, almost every house, had been hotly contested; the monks, and even the women, had taken a conspicuous share in the defence; more than 40,000 bodies of both sexes and every age testified to the obstinate courage of the besieged." (See Dyer's History of Modern Europe, vol. iv. p. 496.)—Ed.
VARIANTS:
[1] The word "necessity" was italicised in the editions of 1815 to 1843.
FOOTNOTES:
[A] Compare a passage in Wordsworth's Essay Concerning the Convention of Cintra (1809, pp. 180-1), beginning "Most gloriously have the Citizens of Saragossa proved that the true army of Spain, in a contest of this nature, is the whole people."—Ed.
[B] The beginning is imitated from an Italian Sonnet.—W. W. 1815.
In 1837 Wordsworth put it thus, "In this Sonnet I am under some obligations to one of an Italian author, to which I cannot refer." But it is to be noted that in the edition of 1837, this note does not refer to the sonnet on Saragossa, but to that beginning "O, for a kindling touch from that pure flame," belonging to the year 1816. In subsequent editions the note is reappended to this sonnet beginning "Hail, Zaragoza!"—Ed.
"SAY, WHAT IS HONOUR?—'TIS THE FINEST SENSE"
Composed 1809.—Published 1815
Say, what is Honour?—'Tis the finest sense
Of justice which the human mind can frame,
Intent each lurking frailty to disclaim,
And guard the way of life from all offence
Suffered or done. When lawless violence 5
Invades a Realm, so pressed that in the scale[1]
Of perilous war her weightiest armies fail,
Honour is hopeful elevation,—whence
Glory, and triumph. Yet with politic skill
Endangered States may yield to terms unjust; 10
Stoop their proud heads, but not unto the dust—
A Foe's most favourite purpose to fulfil:
Happy occasions oft by self-mistrust
Are forfeited; but infamy doth kill.
VARIANTS:
[1] 1837.
A Kingdom doth assault, and in the scale 1815.
"BRAVE SCHILL! BY DEATH DELIVERED, TAKE THY FLIGHT"
Composed 1809.—Published 1815
Brave Schill! by death delivered, take thy flight
From Prussia's timid region. Go, and rest
With heroes, 'mid the islands of the Blest,
Or in the fields of empyrean light.
A meteor wert thou crossing a dark night:[1] 5
Yet shall thy name, conspicuous and sublime,
Stand in the spacious firmament of time,
Fixed as a star: such glory is thy right.
Alas! it may not be: for earthly fame
Is Fortune's frail dependant; yet their lives 10
A Judge, who, as man claims by merit, gives;
To whose all-pondering mind a noble aim,
Faithfully kept, is as a noble deed;
In whose pure sight all virtue doth succeed.
Ferdinand von Schill, a distinguished Prussian officer, born 1773, entered the army 1789, was seriously wounded in the battle of Jena, but took the field again at the head of a free corps. Indignant at the subjection of his country to Buonaparte, he resolved to make a great effort for the liberation of Germany, collected a small body of troops, and commenced operations on the Elbe; but after a few successes was overpowered and slain at Stralsund, May 31, 1809. On June 4, 1809, Wordsworth writing to Daniel Stewart, editor of The Courier newspaper, says, "Many thanks for the newspaper. Schill is a fine fellow." The sonnet was doubtless inspired by what he thus heard of Schill.—Ed.
VARIANTS:
[1] 1837.
... in a darksome night: 1815.
"CALL NOT THE ROYAL SWEDE UNFORTUNATE"
Composed 1809.—Published 1815
Call not the royal Swede unfortunate,
Who never did to Fortune bend the knee;
Who slighted fear; rejected steadfastly
Temptation; and whose kingly name and state
Have "perished by his choice, and not his fate!" 5
Hence lives He, to his inner self endeared;
And hence, wherever virtue is revered,
He sits a more exalted Potentate,
Throned in the hearts of men. Should Heaven ordain
That this great Servant of a righteous cause 10
Must still have sad or vexing thoughts to endure,
Yet may a sympathizing spirit pause,
Admonished by these truths, and quench all pain
In thankful joy and gratulation pure.
The royal Swede, "who never did to Fortune bend the knee," was Gustavus IV. He abdicated in 1809, and came to London at the close of the year 1810. Compare the earlier sonnet on the same King of Sweden (vol. ii. p. 338), beginning—
The Voice of song from distant lands shall call.
In the edition of 1827, Wordsworth added the following note:—"In this and a former Sonnet, in honour of the same Sovereign, let me be understood as a Poet availing himself of the situation which the King of Sweden occupied, and of the principles avowed in his manifestos; as laying hold of these advantages for the purpose of embodying moral truths. This remark might, perhaps, as well have been suppressed; for to those who may be in sympathy with the course of these Poems, it will be superfluous; and will, I fear, be thrown away upon that other class, whose besotted admiration of the intoxicated despot here placed in contrast with him, is the most melancholy evidence of degradation in British feeling and intellect which the times have furnished."—Ed.
"LOOK NOW ON THAT ADVENTURER WHO HATH PAID"
Composed 1809.—Published 1815
Look now on that Adventurer who hath paid
His vows to Fortune; who, in cruel slight
Of virtuous hope, of liberty, and right,
Hath followed wheresoe'er a way was made
By the blind Goddess,—ruthless, undismayed; 5
And so hath gained at length a prosperous height,
Round which the elements of worldly might
Beneath his haughty feet, like clouds, are laid.
O joyless power that stands by lawless force!
Curses are his dire portion, scorn, and hate, 10
Internal darkness and unquiet breath;
And, if old judgments keep their sacred course,
Him from that height shall Heaven precipitate
By violent and ignominious death.
The "Adventurer" who "paid his vows to Fortune," in contrast to the royal Swede "who never did to Fortune bend the knee," was of course Napoleon Buonaparte.—Ed.
"IS THERE A POWER THAT CAN SUSTAIN AND CHEER"
Composed 1809.—Published 1815
Is there a power that can sustain and cheer
The captive chieftain, by a tyrant's doom,
Forced to descend into his destined tomb—[1]
A dungeon dark! where he must waste the year,
And lie cut off from all his heart holds dear; 5
What time his injured country is a stage
Whereon deliberate Valour and the rage
Of righteous Vengeance side by side appear,
Filling from morn to night the heroic scene
With deeds of hope and everlasting praise:— 10
Say can he think of this with mind serene
And silent fetters? Yes, if visions bright
Shine on his soul, reflected from the days
When he himself was tried in open light.
This may refer to Palafox, alluded to in the sonnet ([p. 222]) beginning, "And is it among rude untutored Dales," and in the one next in order in the series ([p. 223]); although, from the latter sonnet, it would seem that Wordsworth did not know that Palafox was, in 1809, a prisoner at Vincennes.
In his edition of the poems published in 1837, Professor Henry Reed of Philadelphia said, "He must be dull of heart who, in perusing this series of Poems 'dedicated to Liberty,' does not feel his affection for his own country—wherever it may be—and his love of freedom, under whatever form of government his lot may have been cast—at once invigorated and chastened into a purer and more thoughtful emotion."—Ed.
VARIANTS:
[1] 1837.
Forced to descend alive into his tomb, 1815.
The text of 1815 was re-adopted in 1838; the text of 1840 returned to that of 1837.