The rising pang to smother.
The persuasion here expressed was not groundless. The first human consolation that the afflicted Mother felt, was derived from this tribute to her son's memory, a fact which the author learned, at his own residence, from her Daughter, who visited Europe some years afterwards.—Goldau is one of the villages desolated by the fall of part of the Mountain Rossberg.—W. W. 1837.
References to Young Goddard occur in Mrs. Wordsworth's Journal, as follows:—"Lucerne, Aug. 16.—... In bounded Henry Robinson, ... with two young men he has picked up on the road...." "Aug. 17.—The two young Gentlemen, Mr. R.'s companions, called upon us to walk at 7 o'clock; and very pleasing youths we found them, one an American, the other a Scotsman, by birth, students from Geneva, come out on foot for a month's excursion." "Top of Righi, Sat. 19th.—Our pleasant ingenuous companions gone. We parted immediately after breakfast." "Lausanne, Sept. 20.—Our joy was damped by hearing from Mr. Mulloch, of the melancholy fate of that very interesting youth, Mr. Goddard, with whom we parted on the top of the Righi. He, with Mr. Trotter, descended to pursue their way to Zurich, in which lake he was unfortunately drowned two days afterwards; we towards Lauritz, but all in the hope of meeting again at Altorf.... Mr. G.'s mother is in America.... Seldom have I seen so promising a youth." "Sat. 23rd. Geneva.—Met Mr. Trotter. The loss of poor Goddard was occasioned by a sudden squall, which upset one of the worthless boats, made of thin planks, flat bottomed. Mr. T. being a good swimmer, and on the side nearest the shore, reached land, when looking for his companion, he had disappeared, had been sucked under the boat, and was never seen from the first moment. Great humanity was shown by the people in the neighbourhood on this melancholy occasion. The body was found, and afterwards buried in the churchyard at Küsnacht, a village on the east shore of the lake of Zurich. A discourse in German was delivered by an old Priest, after the interment, a copy of which Mr. T. showed us; and which Mr. R. and W. were much pleased with, for the pathetic simplicity of the expression. It was intended to be sent to the poor mother of the deceased."
The reference towards the close of the poem to the
Flowers 'mid Goldau's ruins bred;
and the concluding passage of the prefatory note to the edition of 1822, suggest another passage in Mrs. Wordsworth's Journal. "Aug. 19.—Dined at Goldau. This cottage-inn is built, as several other houses are, on the side of the road surrounded by masses of fallen rock: chapel close by: all walked to the ruins: sate for a long time upon an immense mass of the fallen mountain. It is an awful and an affecting place. We were surprised at the extent of the desolation, especially when we looked up to the mountain whence it had proceeded. The rent, high above us, appeared so trifling that we could not but wonder how all those mighty blocks had ever been piled upon so narrow a space. Huge masses of rock on every side of us. It is aptly called "the valley of Stones." A river had thridded this once lovely and still interesting valley; but this, with the green meadows which it fertilized, is buried; and the lake of Lawerz below driven into narrower compass.... Three villages, with their inhabitants, had been completely destroyed."
"Wednesday, 19th September. Lausanne.—We met with some pleasant Englishmen, from whom we heard particulars concerning the melancholy fate of our young Friend, the American, seen by us for the last time on the top of the Righi. The tidings of his death had been first communicated, but a few hours before, by Mr. Mulloch. We had the comfort of hearing that his friend had saved himself by swimming, and had paid the last duties to the stranger, so far from home and kindred, who lies quietly in the churchyard of Küsnacht on the shores of Zurich." (From Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal, vol. ii.)
On the 24th Nov. 1821, Dorothy Wordsworth wrote to Henry Crabb Robinson:—"... Amongst the Poems (the Tour on the Continent) is one to the memory of poor Goddard, which probably never would have been written but for your suggestion. How often do I think of that night when you first introduced that interesting youth to us! At this moment I see in my mind's eye the lighted Salon, you in your great-coat, and the two slender tall figures following you!"—Ed.
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