Coleridge and Wordsworth S Ome Amusing If Not Quite Authentic Anecdotes About the Spy Will Be Found in ’ 1 Io R a H Ia Iter a R Ia a Coleridge S B G P L

C OLE R I D GE A N D WO R D S WO R TH

C O L E R I D G E A N D W OR D S W OR T H

Th e We s t C o u n t r y

Th e i r Fr i e n dsh i Wo rk an d p , , Su r r o u n di n gs

PROFES S OR KN I GH T

I L LU S TRATE D B Y H N EW EDMUN D .

ELKI N M ATH E WS OR K S T R EET LO D O C , N N 1 91 3

T O M Y FRIE N D H E Y W OOD C A NN THI S BOO K ON C OLERIDG E AND W ORDS W ORT H T H E W ES T C U T IN O N RY , T FR E S P W R K S U R U S HEIR I ND HI , O , AND RO NDING , w K I s S C E U . . IN RIB D BY THE A THOR , U 1 91 . J LY , 3

PR E FAC E

H E t w o r i e n an d r o h r — o e s f ds , b t e p t W i W ill am o r dswo r th an d Samuel Taylo r — C o le ridge lived w ith th eir h o u seh o lds i n D o r s e t an d S o me r s e t d u r i n r O h e e r s 1 — 1 8 , g pa t ft y a 7 95 7 9

W o r w o r h R ac e d o w n i n o r e an d t r ds t at D s t, af e w ar ds a t Alfo xd e n i n S o mer s e t ; Co le r idge at

c n h re h e N e th e r S to w e y i n th e latte r o u ty . T e t y

n h r mmo r o c w o r fo r th e w o r bega t ei i tal p eti k ld ,

- b o th as c o n s c io u s an d u n c o n sc i o u s c o o per ato r s

m n u r i n o f i n o n e o f th e gr eatest a n d o st e d g

m o me n h r i n h as n o w n e fo re literar y ve ts t at B ita k , b

h o r m th ey le ft th e i r n ati ve lan d fo r a s t ti e .

f 1 8 h o h V To wa r ds t h e c lo se o 7 9 t ey b t isited th e c o n n n o f E u ro o i n i n ff r n ti e t pe, g g di e e t — Wo r di r e c ti o n s an d stayi n g at vario u s plac e s ds w o r h an d h i s i e r Go s r an d C o e r e t s st at la , l idg at

z e u r a n d Go n n b u t h e w e r e o n Rat b g tti ge , t y ly

h I i s h o w e r t o w h s e n fo r fe w m o n . t ab t a t s , ev , at th ey ac c o mpli s h e d i n th e year s th ey S pe n t i n th e s o u h -w e c o r n r o f E n n an d o to th e t st e gla d , als g e n e ro u s aid give n to th e m by o n e o r tw o s y m

i o a h e c fr n s h a h i s m o o s e e . p t ti ie d , t t t s all b k d v t d I n i t I h ave e n d e avo u r e d to fo c u s th e e x i s t i n m a e r i w h i c h h as e n e a w i h m o r e g t al , be d lt t

a i r r e s m p r t c ula ly by th e late M . Dyk Ca pb e ll i n h i s L i e O C aler id e an d th e n o e t o h i s f f g , t s e i o n o f th e Po ems I h av n fe r e . o t r e r e xc e dit e d , pt wh e n u e n e c e s r t o m o w n L i e o Wor ds q it sa y, y f f w o r t/z t o th e tw o e i i o n o f h i s Po ems d t s ,

— vi z . t h e Po e ti c a l Wo r ks i s ue i n 1 8 8 2 6 , s d by

Wi i a m Pa e r s o n E n u r h a n d th e s u s e u e n ll t , di b g , b q t

Ev e r s e e o n o f h e m u i s h e M e s r s l y diti t , p bl d by s .

M c m i an i n 1 — l a ll 8 96 7 . A l th at I h ad th e n to s ay viii — e h r to W — as it e as o rdsw o r th o r Co leridge w

n c u e i n h e o i l d d t se v lumes . I n th i s o n e I e n de avo u r s h o rtly to r ec o r d s o me o f t h e m o r e r emar kable fe atu r e s o f th at m o ve m n wh i c h r o fr o m th e h e r o f th e An o e t, a se a t gl

S x o n r c e o w r s n e w u n e r n n an d a a , t a d a d sta di g, a m o r e c o r r c r c o n o f w h I h n u r e t app e iati , at ave ve t ed “ t o c all th e Ph ilo so ph ic al U n d e r t o n e s o f M o d e rn P o et ry an d wh ic h I h ave t rie d t o e x plai n o rally

to m n u i e n c e s o h i n E n a n an d Am r i c . a y a d , b t gl d e a A t p r e s e n t 1 limi t my s e lf m ai n ly t o th e d aw n i n g ge n i u s o f th e t wo m e n w h o were th e c h i e f e x

o n e n t s o f h n ﬂ u n c e i n th e o c r e n i s n c e p t at i e , p eti a s a o f E n gla n d at th e begi n n i n g o f th e n i n ete e n th

h h ad m n u r o u r c c e n u r . e e e o r s t y T y a y ill st i s p ed ss , w h o s o wed so me seed i n s c atte r e d plac e s : b u t “ th eir s is th e ever lasti n g h o n o u r o f h avi n g be gu n a n d c o n tin u e d alth o ugh h appily th ey did n o t e n d t h e mo st r e ma r k able r e vival o f t h e id e al

[ i X ] o o s to th e r o s c c u i n th e o c as pp ed p ai a t al , p eti

r o f r a n w o k B it i .

I m a h Ch r I wh i c h w h y add t at apte , deals it “ th e ﬁr m n o f Wo r s w o r h an d Co e r e st eeti g d t l idg , w c o n r u e t o Tb e Ac a de m o f M a 2 0 th as t ib t d y y ,

’ W Al ox n 1 90 5 an d th at D o r o th y o r dsw o r th s f de Jo ur n al was p ubli sh e d i n th e Ever s ley edi tio n

’ o f h e r r o h r s w o r i n th e r 1 8 . b t e ks , yea 97 Pe r h ap s mo st r ead e r s o f th i s b o o k w ill be c h i e ﬂy i n te r e ste d i n th e r e c o r d o f th at marve llo u s fr n s h w h c h e n R ac e do w n an d d e ie d ip , i b ga at ve l o e d Alfo xd e n e w n W m an d D o ro th p at , b t ee illia y

Wo o r h fr e n h i o f r o h r an d e r r d s w t a i ds p b t e sist w h ic h h as me udi ce n o r i n th e r e c o r , j , pa allel ded

W e r e e s e i s h e r lite rary h isto ry o fth e w o rld . h l t e

th e r e c o r o f a ti e s o i n e n e s o i i n e r s s o d t s , d s t e ted , — m utually h e lpful u n b r o ke n by a s i n gle d o mestic — i n c id e n t o r ac c i de n t s o full o f r estful s o lac e a n d i n s i r n im u u s w i h an n e n e s th e p i g st l , t i d bted s

[ X ] o n e t o t h e o h e r h w as c r c e c o n s c o u t , t at s a ly a i s

o i o n b ut e r m n n i n r e u r ? p ssess , a p a e tly abid g t as e — Th e ir c o n temp o r aries Ch arle s an d M ar y

L m w h H n r e a n d E r n e n n — ar e th e a b , it e i tta est R a o n ly o n e s th at app r o ac h th e m b u t th e y fo llo w

at a v e r y e asily m e asu rable di s ta n c e .

C ON TEN TS

C HA PT E R P A GE

TH E F S M W S H IR T EETING OF ORD WORT AND CO LERIDGE

I I W S . ORD WORTH AT R ACED OW N I N THE

1 F YEAR 7 95, AND A TER

’ I I I . COLER I E GE S V HI S ARRI AL AT S TOWEY .

S P N E C E ET C CORRE O D N , .

I V AN D W S T . COLERIDGE ORD WORTH OGETHER I N S OMER S ET COLERIDGE A N D T HOMAS POOLE COL E RIDG E AND S OU THEY T H E Q UA N TOCK HILL S T HE COLERIDGE COTTAGE AT NETHER S TOWEY

’ W I X D O W S W S U , . OR THY ORD ORTH JO RNAL RIT 8 T EN AT ALFOXD EN IN 1 7 9

x iii THE AN CI EN T M A RI N ER AND S OME

T P S O HER OEM .

S OME R EMINIS CEN CES OF 1 798

LAS T DAY S IN S OMERS ET

APPEN D I CES

I T H E F W CK T S T o P S W T T . EN I NO E OEM RI EN

A T A LEOX D EN

P T T S M E S E E I I . OEM S WRI EN IN O R T BY COL RIDGE

I I I P S T T E W S W T . OEM WRI N BY ORD OR H C HI E FLY IN SOM ER S ET

I ND EX LI ST OF I LLU STR ATI ON S

’ S P C T H E V C COLERIDGE BIRTH LA E, I ARAGE ,

OT T S T M ERY . ARY Fr o n ti sp l e c e D aw n a t a b w e b k n r from pho ogr ph orro d y Mr. El i a s M rs W s n h e a t e a at e t e w . t M h from il o , d ugh r of l C a a n P e s t t h e a s s w n th e t s e th e h pl i ri of p ri h , ho i g ou id of b n i n w c S . T C w as . room hi h . . or PA GE M V W C YRTLE COTTAGE , CLE EDON , IN HI H THE ’ COLERIDGES HONEYMOON WAS S PENT

N o T E S T T B S 1 0 6 . 7 GREA GEORG REE , RI TOL , 9

N o L S T T ST 1 0 6 . . 54 CO LEGE REE , BRI OL , 9

R A CEDOWN NETHER S TOWEY ' h e f s t e e t t h e v a e as Po c l e s s e Th e c i r of ill g . Thom hou n o n th e h t—h a n s e i s t h e l as t b ut o e rig d id .

’ O S T S W C LERIDGE COTTAGE , NE HER TO EY e n e n t a t e at n s A s i t w a s b e fore t h e N i n e t e t h C ury l r io . h o i ve h i e c t n . . . e w Dr aw n u n d e r t e d r io of Mr M J Moor , l d s i n e t ai t e e a s a b o an d e s c b e i t t o th e a t i t . h r y, d ri d r d l ALFOX DEN PAR K [ X V ] T HE HOL FORD COOMBS

’ I R OF S 1 0 6 NTE IOR COLERIDGE COTTAGE , 9

’ W T S T HE ELL A COLERIDGE COTTAGE

TH E A LFOXDEN P K GLEN , AR

PﬁOR LOCK BAY

M INEHEAD BAY KIL V E CL E V EDON CH U R CH ABO V E BRO C K LEY COOMB S HU R T ON BARS

C o le ridge an d W o rds w o r th i n t h e W e st C o u n t ry

CHAPTER I

T HE FI RS T M EETI N G OF WORDSWORT H AN D C OLERI DG E

T seems strange that a doubt should still

exist as to the exact date , and place of the ﬁrst meeting of these poets ; Whether it occurred at R ac e do w n or at Bristol (for

a n d nowhere else could it have happened) ; , W if it was in the latter , here and when in M that City it took place . uch has been surmised , and a good deal written on the subject : but neither point has as yet been determined with accuracy . In T/Je Ly? of S a muel Tayl or Cole r idge by

3 J ’ ‘ Coleri dge a a a W0 r olr w o r z a

James Gillman (Vol . I , p . the writer says

S ome years since the late Charles M w athe s , the comedian (or rather , as Cole ‘ ridge used to observe , the comic poet acting his own showed me an autograph

’ M r M letter from . Wordsworth to athews

brother , who was at that time educating for B r a w w . the , and ith hom he corresponded In this letter he made the following o b se r

‘ vation To -morrow I am going to Bristol

to see those two extraordinary young men , S ’ outhey and Coleridge .

Gillman does not gi ve the date of this

i n letter , and his story contains several “ M r u . acc racies ; for he goes on to say , ” w Alfo xde n Words orth was then residing at ,

whereas when he ﬁrst met Coleridge , and

w as for nearly two years afterwards , he

R ac e do w n the tenant of . If the letter of Wordsworth to his friend M athews was i fﬁ extant and access ble , the di culty could be [ 4 ] TAeir Firsi ‘ M eeting cleared up at once ; but all that we can gather from this extract is the fact that he

B R ac e do w n went to ristol from , on a par t i c ul ar S day , to see both outhey and Cole ridge , presumably to see them together , and that these t w o extraordinary you n g men were already acquainted Cole ridge ’ s own statements on the subject are ambiguous , and in later years his memory failed him ; so that it is i mpossible to say W w hether , in hat he then wrote , he refers w to a ﬁrst intervie , or to the beginning of intimacy and friendship . Fortunately we have two more explicit — W vi z M r s . witness bearers , . ordsworth and

1 8 S . ara Coleridge ( I ) On November 7 , 4 5, S r M r s . Wordsworth wrote to ara Cole idge ,

C . S . the daughter of T . , as follows

’ With my husband s tender love to you , — he bids me say i n r eply to a question you have put to him through M iss Fenwick that he has n o t as distinct a remembrance as [ 5 ] ’ Coleridge ari a Wo r ds w o r té he could W ish of the time when he ﬁrst saw S your father , and your uncle outhey ; but the impression upon his mind is that he ﬁrst saw them both , and your mother and aunt l Edith at the same time , in a odging in B ristol . This must have been about the

1 year 7 95. Your father , he says , came

d R ac e do w n W afterwar s to see us at , here I

W e was then living with my sister . have a both a distinct remembrance of his rrival .

He did not keep to the high road , but leapt over a gate , and bounded down a pathless

W c u t ff W e ﬁeld by hich he o an angle . both retain the li veliest possible image of his appearance at that moment . M ff ost a ectionately yours ,

W W R H R S T . M . O D O

2 M r s — ( ) . Henry Nelson Coleridge the — same daughter S ara i n the biographical supplement t o the B i og r apli za L ite r a r ia -6 Vol . II , pp . 3 4 5 , writes

“ Th e whole spring and summer of this [ 6 ] Tneir Firr t M ee ti n g

' i e h e r v year he , . . father , de oted to B public lectures at ristol , making in the S intervals several excursions in omersetshire , one memorial of which remains in the L in e r e omp o red w h il e e l imoing B r o c kley Co omo

M a ( y , It was in one of these

M r M r excursions that . Coleridge and .

W M r ordsworth ﬁrst met , at the house of . P ” inney . This statement would doubtless be made

M r s S on the authority of her mother , . amuel

Taylor Coleridge . Now we know , from

’ W M r s M ar Dorothy ordsworth s letter to .

o f S 2 1 shall , eptember , 7 95, that she and her brother were with the Pinneys at Bristol

A 1 u about the end of ugust , 7 95, previo s to their receiving the loan of the farmhouse

’ R ac e do w n L in er w r itten a t at . Coleridge s ' ‘ A 0 1 Cle vea on 2 . are dated ugust , 7 95 He

m 1 was arried in October , 7 95 ; and , if Wordswor t h came in from R ac e do w n to Bristol to see h i m an d S outhey (as he tells [ 7 ] Coleridge and Wo r ds w o r tn W M rs . us he did) , and if ordsworth was

’ correct in reporting her husband s r e c o ll e c B tion of meeting the two young ristol poets , and the two M iss Prickers whom they

a t toe sa me time in toe s a me b on re married , S and if, in addition , ara Coleridge is correct in her report that her father and Coleridge

’

i n M r . P ﬁrst met inney s house , it is almost v pro ed that the meeting took place , not during a country excursion out of Bristol S (as her daughter ara suggests) , but in the

n vi z city itself, and in the early autum , .

A S 1 ugust or eptember , of the year 7 95. I have only recently found out W here

’ M r P n B r . in ey s house in istol was , and now is ; for it is still standing . It is a large ,

i — n commodious , e ghteenth ce tury mansion , S B No . 7 Great George treet , randon Hill ,

Clifton . Wordsworth could not possibly have in ven ted a meeting with Coleridge and

S t w o M P outhey , and the iss rickers , in the lodgings which the poets then occupied in

An d 2 5 College Street . as we know that it [ 8 ]

Coleridge a n d Wo r ds w o r td at the lodging of Coleridge and S outhey in S A m College treet . nother ite of evidence ’ C s S T . . may be gathered from . poem ,

L in es w r itte n a t Sb n r ton B a r s n ea r B r id , g w a ter S 1 , which was dated eptember , 7 95, B ” in answer to a letter from ristol . It is

’ a n c ee S evidently addressed to his ﬁ , arah Fricker ; and it contains the ﬁrst printed reference to Wordsworth which Coleridge

. w made He mentions the glow orm , moving “ ” with green radiance through the grass , and in a footnote tells us that the phrase is “ W w M r . borrowed from ords orth , a poet

ve r s i ﬁc at i o n i o whose is occas nally harsh , and his diction too frequently obscure but whom I deem unrivalled among the writers of the present day in manly sentiment , i ” novel magery , and vivid colouring . The only poems at that time published by Wordsworth were A n E ven ing Wa lk and

r ket li e D e s c iptive S c s . Little could Coleridge the n forecast their joint literary work

L r ic a l ﬂ a l/a ds Bu t manship in the y .

I 1 0 l Tdeir First W c eti ng the above note was probably written in

1 L in es 7 95, when the were composed , and 6 A 1 . it was certainly published in pril , 7 9

Th e S house in College treet , where Cole S ridge and outhey lived together , was then 8 numbered 4 . It is now No . 54, is built

h as — of stone , a single shop window and

door , but no shop on the ground ﬂoor . It has two windows on each side of the upper

stories , and of the attic . It is in a street of — some eighty modest , well built , eighteenth

century houses ; most of them of brick , but — some of ashlar free stone , all three stories

high . No . 54 is now marked by a tablet S with the inscription , amuel Taylor Cole

1 . P , , 94 ridge , oet lived here 7

It may be of use to mention t h e places in which Coleridge lived during these eventful

W . years , ith approximate dates In the sum

1 mer of 7 94 , at the close of a pedestrian W B tour in ales , he reached ristol ; and walked S S thence with outhey into omerset , to see

[ I l l Coleridge and Wo r ds w o r td their common friend Burnett at his father ’ s house , and discuss the recently formed scheme of Pantisocracy and emigration to

A A 1 8 T merica . On ugust he met homas P S oole at Nether towey and , returning to S ’ ’ B outhey s mother s house at ath , met and S F W became engaged to arah ricker , to hose

S . sister , Edith , outhey became engaged He B stayed thereafter at ristol for several weeks , writing and lecturing ; then went to Cam

L i n bridge , which he left for ondon Decem

1 S ber Early in January , 7 95, outhey went L up to ondon , and brought him back to 8 S B S 4 College treet , ristol , where he ( outhey) lodged with Burnett ; and there Coleridge S remained with outhey , sh aring rooms with his two friends , writing and lecturing till

u S r e s mmer . Then they separated , outhey B turning to ath , and Coleridge going alone

2 S into rooms at 5 College treet , a house

n o S which longer exists . In eptember he S P went down to Nether towey to visit oole .

R n B eturni g to ristol , he was married to

[ 1 2 ]

Tdeir First M eeting

S F S t M arah ricker , in the Church of . ary

R e dc li ﬁe 1 , on October 4 , 7 95, and at once settled in a cottage at Clevedon . This he B soon found too far from the ristol library , R ff and removed to rooms on edcli e Hill . In F 1 6 S ebruary , 7 9 , he went to Nether towey to visit Thomas Poole ; but returned to B K T ristol , to a house at ingsdown . hence

i n S they went to reside Nether towey , on

1 1 6 December 3 , 7 9 , where they stayed till

8 0 0 A I . narrow pathway communicated with P ’ T oole s garden . here was no quiet possible , P ’ and there were almost always visitors . oole s “ library was near , and the jasmine arbour close at hand Yet here Coleridge ’ s ﬁnest poetic w ork was done ; and hither came L the Wordsworths , Charles amb , Hazlitt ,

w . Thel all , and others During the same period of their early

R ac e do w n genius Wordsworth was at ,

1 arriving with his sister in October , 7 95 where he began his tragedy of Tb e

ed o tta e o r de r er s R uin C . B , and also the g In [ 1 5 ] Coleridge and Wordsw o r td

I 6 - S P oems 7 9 when . T . C . published his , f — and S outhey his Joa n (y d r c Wordsworth

ﬁnished his tragedy , and began to write lyrics Coleridge went out to see him R ac e do w n 1 6 1 6 at on June , 7 9 , again

2 8 th 2 on the , and on July ; returning on S w that day to towey with the Words orths ,

who remained there a fortnight , before they

Alfo x de n settled at . It should be mentioned that both the R ac e do w n fa r mhouse and the Nether Stowey cottage are still very m uch as they were at the close of the eighteenth cent ury

R ac e do w n entirely so , with the exception of a porch ; and S towey with the addition of an ugly projecting wing on the right-hand

R ac e do w n side of the old cottage . still P belongs to the inney family , and their tenant is glad to S ho w the house and grounds to

R e v G r e sw e ll— visitors . The . William late R B — of Dodington ectory , ridgwater did m S uch for the towey cottage , and Charged himself with its upkeep but it is greatly to [ 1 6 ]

CH APTE R II

WORDSWORT H AT RAC EDOWN I N THE EAR 1 AN D A FTER Y 7 95,

HE R E Wordsworth spent the entire summer of 1 7 95 is not now know E able in detail . arly in that year he was P m at enrith , and he probably acco panied his sister thence to Halifax . He afterwards L travelled up to ondon , where part of the

S Th autumn was pent . ereafter , he went

B M r P down to ristol , on a Visit to . inney , m a rich erchant there , who had also a

R ac e do w n residence at , in Dorset , which became Wordsworth ’ s abode towards the close of the year . What led him to make R ac e do w n his ﬁrst lo o me in England is told us in one of

’ h i s h e r P sister s letters to friend , Jane ollard , who was married on the 5th of A ugus t to

[ 1 8 ]

Wo r ds w o r tn at R a cedo wn M r . M M M ar L . r s John arshall , of eeds . ’ sh all s Br i st o l t o brother had gone to . visit

M r P . inney , who had handed over the country house at R ac e do w n to his son ; and

' s o n o fI e re d i t— - the furnished and rent free , with garden and orchard-ground attached W to ordsworth , on the sole condition that its owner should come down occasionally and stay for a few weeks when he desired a

h M r M c ange of air or scene . ontagu

’ Wordsworth s friend- then wished him to

k B ff 0 ta e charge of his boy asil , o ering J£5 a year for his board ; and Wordsworth ex ’ e d M r P p e c t to have . inney s son (aged thirteen) as a second pupil ; while Dorothy ’ was asked to superintend and teach a co u sin s

child , three and a half years of age . Th e following is an extract from Dorothy Wordsworth ’ s letter to M iss Pollard

M LLH U S Se tember 2 1 . I O E , p , 7 95

r I am going to live in Dorse tshi e . You know the pleasure I have always attac h e d

[ 2 1 ] Coleridge and Wo r ds w o r td — to the idea of home a blessing I so early

. o r M lost I think I told y u that M . ontagu

had a little boy , who , as you will perceive ,

v could not be ery well taken care of, either

’ uh in his father s Chambers , or under the certain management o f various friends of

M r M h as . . , with whom he frequently

. A M r stayed daughter of . Tom

M v yers , a cousin of mine , is coming o er to

England by the ﬁrst ship , which is expected Sh e in about a week , to be educated . is , I

believe , about three or four years old ; and T M ’ . yers brother , who has charge of her , has suggested that I should take her under W my care . ith these two children , and R ’ the produce of aisley Calvert s legacy , we shall h ave an income of at least £ 7 0 or W £ 8 0 per annum . illiam ﬁnds that he can get nine per cent for the money upon h the best security . He means to sink alf

of it upon my life , which will make me always comfortable and independent . Living in the unsettled way in which my

[ 2 2 ] Wo r ds w o r td at R a ce do w n brother h as hitherto lived in Lond o n is always unfavourable to mental exertion . He has had the offer of ten guineas for a work which has not taken up much time and half the proﬁts of a second edition , if it should be called for . It is a little sum ,

i s but it one step . I am determined to

u work with resol tion . It will greatly contribute to my happiness , and place me in such a situation that I shall be doing some W thing . I shall have to join illiam at B ristol , and proceed thence in a Chaise with ” n Basil to R ac e do w . It is ﬁfty miles .

— — In this R ac e do w n house half w ay b e S L tween Crewkerne in omerset , and yme in Dorset — Wordsworth began what was to continue till his death to be the one supreme aim and object of his life . h Th e following is a description of t e 8 i n 1 8 . house , as seen the summer of 7

We approached the old farmhouse , over meadows bright with yellow iris and purple

[ 2 3 ] d Coleridge and Wo r ds w o r t foxglove , through lanes lined on either side with fern , and hung with honeysuckle and L wild rose . arge beech trees shade the - entrance gate the house , and its clustering B farm buildings , stand on the slope of lack down ; open grass ﬁelds surround them . From the terrace-garden on the western h side of the house , wide Views of ill and B valley are obtained . elow , in meadows

ff Ci n dre fo rd famous for da odils , winds

Th e brook . hollow is well wooded , the remains of an avenue of Scots ﬁrs being a prominent feature . On the opposite side

G r e of the valley rises ggy , with quaint

th e clumps of fi r trees on the ridge of hill . B L ’ eyond , a glimpse of ambert s Castle is to be had , and of another hill locally known as Golden Cap , from the brilliance of the gorse when in bloom , which is said

Th e to serve as a beacon to ships . sea itself is visible from the top of the house , and its reviving breezes m ay be felt in the

o f b garden . The house , built dull red rick ,

I 24 l

Coleridge and Wo r ds w o r td

M r s M sister ; and she , writing to . arshall , said that her brother handled the spade ” Th e with great dexterity . post brought them letters only once a week , and they had no society to distract them . Never t h e l e ss — , four years later after they had ex p e r i e n c e of Alfo xde n and of Germany Dorothy wrote of R ac e do w n as the place dearest to her recollections upon the whole f sur ace of the island ; it was the ﬁrst fzome “ she had ; and she described the lovely meadows above the tops of the coombs ,

Pi l sde n Le w i sde n and the scenery on , , and

B V lackdown Hill , with the iew of the sea f L ’ rom ambert s Castle . It is somewhat strange that the ﬁrst literary venture which Wordsw orth attempted at R ac e do w n was to make experimental essays S in both atire and Tragedy , the two kinds of poetical composition in which , of all others , he was least ﬁtted to excel . To his “ M : friend William athews , he wrote Not entirely to forget the world , I season my

[ 26 ] W o r ds w o r td at R a ce do wn recollection of some of its objects with a

- ! little ill nature . I attempt to write satires

m a and in all satires , whatever the authors v say , there will be found a spice of malignity . Neither Juvenal nor Horace were without it ; an d what shall we say of Boileau and Pope He sent h i s imitations of Juvenal to his

W r a n h am 1 friend g in November , 7 95, and on the 2 0 th of that month he wrote

S oon after I left you , I completed some

n thi g like an imitation , though extremely periphrastic , from Juvenal . I will transcribe it for you to correct , in some future letter .

In the meantime , the following verses are at your service to insert in the poem , if T you th ink them worth it . here is not a ” syllable correspondent to them in Juvenal .

- He ﬁrst quotes twenty eight lines , and then adds ' The two last verses of this extract were [ 2 7 ] Coleridge and Wo r ds w o r td

S . given me by outhey , a friend of Coleridge “ He continues : I have said nothing of R ac e do w n an d . It is an excellent house , the country far from unpleasant ; but , as for society , we must manufacture it our W h . ? W e selves ill you Come , and elp us M expect ontagu at Christmas , and would be very glad if you could come along with him . Have you any interest with the book sellers ? I have a poem which I wish to dispose of, provided I could get anything for it . I recollect reading the ﬁrst draught of L But si n c e it to you in ondon . I came to R ac e do w n I have made alteratio n s and additions so material that it may be looked on almost as another w ork . He refers to ” an d S his verses on Guilt orrow .

N 1 On the 3 oth of ovember , 7 95, Dorothy

M rs M wrote to . arshall I never more fully intended anything in my life than to write to you very soon after W m y arrival at R ac e do w n . e are n o w [ 2 8 1 Wo r ds w o r td at R a ce do wn surrounded with winter prospects without

an d W h doors , ithin ave only winter occupa — r tions books , solitude , and the ﬁ eside yet , B I may safely say , we are never dull . asil is a Charming boy he affords us perpetual entertainment . Do not suppose from this that we make him our perpetual plaything

n far otherwise . I thi k that is one of the modes of treatment most likely to ruin a

’ Child s temper and character ; b u t I do n o t think there is any pleasure more delightful than that of m arking the development of

’ n a child s faculties , and observi g his little

occupations . W e found everything at R ac e do w n much more complete with respect to house

hold conveniences than I expected . You may judge of this when I tell you that we have not had to lay o u t ten shilli n gs on the

house . We were a whole month without

n o w a servant , but we have got one of the

S h e nicest girls I ever saw . suits us exactly , and I have all my domestic concerns so

[ 29 ] Coleridge and Wo r ds w o r td arranged that everything goes on with the utmost regularity . We walk about two h W e ours every morning . have many very pleasant roads about us and , what is a great advantage , they are of a sandy soil , and

dr We almost always y . can see the sea , if we go two hundred yards from the door ;

and , at a little distance , we have a very

extensive View terminated by the sea , seen through different openings of the unequal

W e v hills . ha e not the warmth and

r luxu iance of Devonshire , although there is no want either of wood or cultivation ; but the trees appear to suffer from the sea

We h — f blasts have ills , which seen rom a distance— almost take the Character of mountains ; some cultivated nearly to their

summits , others in a wild state covered with T furze and broom . hese delight me the most , as they remind me of our native wilds . “ Ou r common parlour is the prettiest little room that can be , with very good furniture ,

[ so ] W o r ds wo r td at Ra cedo wn a huge box on each side of the ﬁre , a marble - - Chimney piece , with stove and an oil Cloth fl for the oor . The other parlour is rather l S arger , has a good carpet , has ideboards in the recesses on each side of the ﬁre , and has ,

upon the whole , a better appearance ; but we do not like it half so well as our little break - fast room . A little brook which runs at the distance

of one ﬁeld divides us from Devonshire . [Sh e added that the peasants were miserably “ poor ; theircottages being shapeless struct u res ” w of ood and Clay , not at all beyond what might be expected in savage

M r M . ontagu intended being with us a

e t month ago , but we have not seen him y . I have the satisfaction of thinking that he B will see great improvements in asil .

1 M 1 6 On the 9th arch , 7 9 , Dorothy

M r s M wrote again to . arshall

W N S un da m b t R A CED O . , y g

You ask to be i n formed of our system [ 3 1 ] Coleridge and Wo r ds w o r tn B respecting asil . It is a very simple one , so

o f ' simple that , in this age systems , you will

W e hardly be likely to follow it . teach him nothing at present , but what he learns from the evidence of his senses . He has an insatiable curiosity , which we are always

careful to satisfy . It is directed to every M ” thing . ary Hutchinson (afterwards “ M r s ,“ Wordsworth) is staying with us .

Sh e i n is one of the best girls the world , and we are as happy as human beings can be , that is , when William is at home for you cannot imagine how dull we feel when he is away . He is the life of the whole ”

house .

B F 1 s h e efore this (on ebruary ,

M r s M had written to . arshall , giving an P ’ account of the inneys visit , thus

Th e Pinneys have been wi th us ﬁve weeks , one week at Christmas , and a month

We since . They left us yesterday . all enjoyed ourselves very much . They seemed

[ 3 2 ]

household , in such a cold country as this ; for it produces warmth both without and

We within doors . have had snow upon the

o gr und this week past . Had we not seen this sight we should h ave been almost u m conscious that we had lived our winter in

We h t h e the country . ave had mildest W weather I ever remember . Till ithin the

last week , we have never wished for a larger ﬁre than prudent people might think them selves authorized to have in a country where l c oa s are expensive . “ o B I have not spoken f asil yet . He is

my perpetual pleasure , quite metamorphosed - from a shivering , half starved plant to a lusty ,

b o blooming , fearless y . He dreads neither

cold nor rain . He has played frequently

for an hour or two , without appearing sensible that the rain was pouring down

upon him , or the wind blowing about him . Our life affords little incident for

We letters . had our neighbours to dine , while our friends— the Pinneys— were with

[ 3 4 ] Wo r ds w o r td at R a cedo w n us . William is going to publish a 1 Th e P v poem . inneys ha e taken it to the booksellers . I am studying my Italian very hard . A W little later in the year , ordsworth “ wrote to his friend M athews : I am going B - to ristol to morrow , to see those two ex t rao r di n ar y young men , Coleridge and

’ S At d outhey . this period ates are some

difﬁc ul t what to determine . Correspondents did not always date their letters and , when they did , their entries were often erroneous , and many of those they gave are now per

l e x i n S o 1 8 p g . late as November , 4 5, four

and a half years before his death , Words worth said to S ara Coleridge that her father came to see them at R ac e do w n in 1 7 95 ; and Dorothy wrote to a friend in 1 7 97 :

You had a great loss in not seeing Coleridge .

He is a wonderful man . His conversation At teems with soul , mind , and spirit . ﬁrst

I thought him very plain , that is for about

1 Tbe B o r der er s M o s t p r o b ably . E3 5 l Coleridge and Wo r ds w o r td

three minutes . He is pale , thin , has a wide

mouth , thick lips , not very good teeth , - - longish , loose growing , half curling , rough

Bu t black hair . , if you hear him speak for

ﬁve minutes , you think no more of them .

an d f His eye is large ull , and not very dark ,

but grey , such an eye as would receive from a heavy soul the dullest expression ; but it

speaks every emotion of his animated mind .

’ It has more of the poet s eye , in a ﬁne

H e frenzy rolling , than I ever witnessed .

has ﬁne dark eyebrows , and an overhanging

forehead . “ Th e ﬁrst thing that was read after he

’ came was William s new poem T/o e R uin ed

1 Co tta e de g , with which he was much

lighted ; and , after tea , he repeated to us two

Os or i o . acts and a half of his tragedy , The

Tb e next morning William read his tragedy , ” B or der e r s .

It was fortunate , both for the brother and

S R ac e do w n the ister , that this farmhouse

1 ft rw ar s a Tbe Ex cur si n A e d p r t o f o . [ 3 6 ] Wo r ds w o r td at R a ce do w n — was at the time of their entrance

S tocked with books .

n 1 Duri g the autumn of 7 95, the winter — 1 6 1 h e of 7 95 , and the summer of 7 97 ,

b e or de r e r s T B . ﬁnished his one tragedy , w It is extremely probable , as his nephe and biographer suggests , that the subject occurred P to him when he lived at enrith , or visited Keswick— where many ruined castles carry

t h e V i z t h e us back to period of the drama , . reign of Henry III— and Wordsworth him

’ self tells u S that he read R e dp at h s His tory of tb e fB o r de r s , in order that he might under

u stand the local historical all sions . I t is even more note w orthy that during

R ac e do w n that ever memorable time at , his sister ’ s inﬂuence over the poet developed in

A s d many ways . he wrote afterwar s at Grasmere

S h e a e me e e s s h e a e me e ar s . g v y , g v He said that before they came to live together [ 3 7 ] n Cok r MQe cn n l l Pa mmwm

I t o o e x c us i e e s te e me t h at o e l v ly d l v , An d s o u h t th at e aut w h i c h as Mi to n s a s g b y , ( l y ) ath t e r r o r i s t s ft e n o w n H i n i t . T h o u d d o d Th i s o e r-s te r n n e v s s .

’ i n He wrote that , but for his sister s

ﬂ ue n c e -c o n ﬁde n c e , the self of his nature would have kept him like

A ro c w i th t o r r e n t s r o ar i n w i th t h e c o u s k g , l d a mi i a r an d a fa o u r i te o f t h e s t ar s F l , v Bu t t h o u i s t an t i t s c r e i c e s w i th ﬂ o w e r s d d pl v , an i t w i th s h r ub s t h at tw i n e i n t h e b r e e e H g kl z , A n d t e ac h th e li tt l e bi r d s t o b uild t h e i r n e s t s A n d w ar b e i a 1 l n i t s c h mb e r s . M ore than this . In the autobiographic

an d analysis of himself, of the state of mind F he passed through when in rance , and after his ret urn to England— which he n arrates in the eleventh book of Ti re P r e l ude — i n the period of unsettlement which

followed , when the scrutinizing intellect was w at ork and he lost all sense of conviction , giving up for a time every moral problem in

despair , and was on the verge of becoming ” t h e S m like olitary , who he afterwards de

1 TlJe r e ud V — P l e o o XI . 2 1 2 6 , B k , ll 5 5 . [ E ] Wo r ds w o r tn at R a cedo wn scribed in Tb e E xc ur s ion then it was li that , travel ng together on foot through

Yorkshire dales and Cumbrian valleys , his h i s sister corrected despondency , brought him m back fro what was almost misanthropy , and— as he put it

M ai n tai n e d fo r me a s avi n g i n t e r c o ur s e W i th my t r ue s e l f ; S h e w h i s p e r e d s ti ll th at bri gh t n e s s w o uld r e tur n ; S h e i n th e mi s t o f a ll r e s e r e me s t i d , p v d ll A o e t ma e me s e e b e n e ath t h at n ame p , d k , h l A n d th at a o n e m o ffi c e u o n e ar t . l , y p Elsewhere he writes of her

He r v o i c e w as like a h i dd e n b r o o k th at san g ; Th e th o u h t o f h e r w as i e a ﬂ as h o f i h t g l k l g , 2 n s h i Or an u n s e e n c o mpan i o p .

Again

i r s i n th e o w e r an d am s i n t h e r e e n fie B d b , l b g ld , o u th e h a e n o w n h e r w o u h a e o e ; C ld y v k , ld v l v d me th o ugh t He r e r r e s e n c e s uc h a s w e e t n e s s r e ath e v y p b d , Th at fl o w e r s an d t re e s an d e e n t h e si e n t h i s , , v l ll , — XI 1 8 . Tbe P r elude o o . , , 34 3 4 B k ll — Tbe R eclus e o o I Par t I 11. 1 . , B k , , 9 93 [ 3 9 ] ' Cb énwégc a n d h V o n dmuw md An d e v e ryth i n g s h e lo o ke d o n s h o uld h ave h ad A n i n ti matio n h o w s h e b o r e h e r s e lf 1 To w ar d s t h e m an d t o all c r e at ure s . It was all a process of gradual develop d ’ f ment . Nothing in Wor sworth s li e was abrupt . He learned by slow degrees that ” peace settles where the intellect is meek ; w ’ and the rene ed influence of Nature s voice ,

’ along with that of his sister s , l e d h im bac k th r o ugh o p e n i n g day To th o s e s w e e t c o u n s e l s b e tw e e n h e ad an d h e ar t Wh e n c e r e w t h at e n ui n e n o w e e fr au h t w i th g g k l dg , g e ac e 2 p . No poet in the world ’ s history was ever

W u n so happy as ordsworth was , in the selfish and continuous ministry of a devoted sister . Nay , from Chaucer downwards , we find none in the annals of English literature who w as so fortunate in the service rendered by all the women who surrounded him . T — his rare devotion , however with all its — unselfish tenderness could not have don e

be r elude o o X I — 1 I I . T P I , . 6 7 , B k ll 5 Tlae P r e lude o o XI 2— , B k , ll . 3 5 3 54 . [ 40 ]

CHA PTE R III

COLE RI G E’ S AR RI V AL AT S T OWE D Y . HI S C ORR ES PON EN C E ET C D , .

OLE R I D GE ’ S correspondence with P Thomas oole , before he settled at

S 1 6 w towey in December , 7 9 , and hile negotiations were proceeding for the acq u isi ” tion of the wayside cottage there , cannot

u be reproduced in f ll . It can scarcely even be summarized in this book ; but one of the letters (December 1 I ) in which he tried to meet Poole ’ s objections to his taking the cottage , has an autobiographic value . In “ : it he wrote I mean to work very hard , — as cook , butler , scullion , shoe cleaner , d - occasional nurse , gardener , hin , pig pro tector , Chaplain , secretary , poet , reviewer ,

omn i um-é otne r um - and shilling scavenger .

l f I S c a n live at towey , you indeed serve

[ 4 2 ]

’ Coleridge s Arrival at Stowey me effectually by assisting me in the acquire

ment of agricultural practice . If you can instruct m e to manage an acre and a half of

land , and to raise on it (with my own

hands) all kinds of vegetables and grain , f enough for myself and my wife , and su ﬁcient

to feed a pig or two , you will have served ff me most e ectually , by placing me out of the

necessity of being served . In the name

E stli n of Heaven , what can Cottle or do for me ? They do nothing who do not teach me to be indepe n dent of any except the A S lmighty Dispenser of ickness and Health . M y habits and feelings have suffered a

total alteration . I hate company , except

that of my dearest friends , and systematically

avoid it , and when in it keep silence , so far as social humanity will permit me Lloyd ’ s father inquired how I should live without any companions P I answered him I shall

: S have six companions my ara , my babe ,

S my own haping and disquisitive mind , my P books , my beloved friend Thomas oole , 45 J Coleridge and Wo r ds w o r td a n d lastly Nature , gazing at me in a B thousand looks of eauty , and speaking to L me with a thousand melodies of ove . If I were capable of being tired with all

V these , I should then detect a ice in my

u nature , and wo ld ﬂy to habitual solitude to ’ M eradicate it . y objects (assuredly wise ones) are to learn agriculture (and where should I get inst ruction except at Stowey and to be where I can communicate in a literary way . God bless you , and

“ S L R G . T . CO E ID E .

h r T is was his ﬁ st letter . In the evening

1 2 he wrote a second (endorsed December , which he continued on t h e 1 3 th I heard from Birmingham that Lloyd ’ s father should insist on his son ’ s returning

to him at the close of one twelvemonth . What am I to do then ? I shall be again

u u n aﬂoat on the wide sea , npiloted and

provisioned . I determined to devote my w b o le day to the acquirement of practical

[ 46 ] ’ Coleridge s Arrival at Stowey L horticulture , to part with loyd imme di at e l W y , and live ithout a servant . “ If Charles Lloyd and the servant were with me , I must have bought new furniture

0 0 if n o t to the amount of £ 4 or £ 5 , which ,

’ impossibility in person , was impossibility s ﬁrst cousin We determined to live by

. a ourselves We rranged our time , money ,

W e and employment . found it not only

W n practicable , but easy . ith o ly two — i rooms , and two people the r wants severely — simple there c an be no great labour in their waiting upon themselves . I should have devoted my whole head , heart , and — body to my acre and a half of garden land , L W and my evenings to iterature . hat had

I to ask of my friends Not money , not their

c an S interest . I accept no place in tate ,

n M Church , or dissenti g eeting . Nothing S remains possible but a chool , or Writer to a newspaper , or my present plan . I could not love the man who advised me to

a keep a school , or write for a newsp per .

[ 4 7 ] Coleridge and Wo r ds wo r td

T o pass across my garden once or twice

m e a day for ﬁve minutes , to set right and ’ cheer me with the sight of a friend s face ,

would be more to me than hundreds .

But L n iterature , though I shall ever abandon

it , will always be a secondary object with

me ; and I would rather be an expert , — M self maintaining gardener , than a ilton , if

I could not unite both . A fe w days afterwards he wrote to John Thelw all : I am not ﬁt for p ul lic life : yet the light shall stream to a far distance from

the taper in my cottage window .

' 0 th 1 6 On the 3 of December , 7 9 , Cole f B ridge le t ristol with his wife and child , to S live in the humble cottage at Nether towey , which soon afterw ards became closely asso d c i at e with his poetic prime .

The ﬁrst literary thing he did , after his - arrival at that cottage home , was to add to the poems he had already written , and which had been published by Cottle ; and to plan out a second edition , for which

- u n he was carrying on much self imposed , toward , unremunerative , and resultless work , by preach ing in Unitarian chapels near — at hand at Bridg w ater and Taunton without any arrangement or offer of r e ward . Th e most helpful thing that befell and befriended him , during these early months at S h towey , was the free access w ich he had at all times to the excellent library of Thomas P oole close at hand , of which he made almost daily use w hile in the mornings he

s L taught his pupil , Charle loyd . Gradually , however , his funds got very low ; and in

1 P June , 7 97 , oole saw that something of a

d fo r very practical kind must be one him .

I n the realization of this , he obtained the

tw o r help of one or f iends , whose names are

n u recorded . It is needless to enter on par t i c ul ar s Fo r as to these sad days . details ,

M r the reader must consult . Dykes Camp ’ f L e Th e bell s g of the poet . chief events to Coleridge in the earlier half of the year

[ 50 ] ’ Coleridge s Arrival at Stowey 1 7 97 were h i s visit to Wordsworth at R ace down , and the publication of a new edition

P oems of his . Th e volume was issued under the title

P o ems é S T Co le r id e s e d dit w li ic b . . c o n e i o n to y g , , a r e a dded P oems éy Cb a r l e s L a mé a n d Clza r les

L l o d B y (printed by N . iggs for J . Cottle , B M R L A ristol , and essrs . obinson , ondon) . great deal that was in the ﬁrst edition was

very prudently left out . The new pieces included a dedicatory poem to his brother

h i s Ode to tb e George , a revised version of

D e a r tin Tea r n e w o n p g , two sonnets the

n birth ofhis child Hartley , and the compa ion

l Eo li an R e poem on The Harp , entitled ﬂ e c tio n s o n li a ving lef t a pl a c e of r etir eme n t

n R e li io us (which was Clevedo ) , and the g us in s B u t M g in an altered form . as his

M r best biographer , . Dykes Campbell ,

1 h u m points out , Not ing in the vol e gives the least hint that Coleri dge was already on the latch of the magic casements

1 i s L e e e 6 . S h . i , p 9

I S I which were to Open on the perilous seas sailed ” Th e A n c ie n t M a r in e r an d Kual a Kb a n by . S The small house at towey , to be let at P seven pounds a year , which oole advised him to take , although it was in a somewhat unsatisfactory state , is referred to in a letter to his friend and benefactor , endorsed Dec

: W e ember , In it he said might

R u m fo r di z e c an one of the chimneys . I endure cold , but not a cold room . If we can contrive to make two r ooms warm and whole some we will laugh in the faces ofgloom and ” i ll—l o o k i n n e ss g . The cottage was entered

t h e 1 6 in Christmas week of 7 9 .

F 6 1 On ebruary , 7 97 , he wrote to his

r T We f iend helwall are very happy , and my little David Hartley grows a sweet boy . I raise potatoes and all manner ofvegetables ; h have an orc ard , and shall raise corn (with

fo r We v the spade) enough my family . ha e A two pigs , and ducks and geese . cow would not answer to keep , for we have whatever

i w e P m lk want from T . oole .

[ 52 ] ’ Coleridge s Arrival at Stowey

M r S “ s . M r s andford writes , however , that . Coleridge was n o t altogether wrong when she remembered the house as a miserable cottage ; and , indeed , the day was not far distant when Coleridge himself could write of it as the old hovel . It was afterwards - transformed into a small public house , and even then was a better and larger ho use than it was when Coleridge inhabited it ; for its size was in creased by the addition ofa mis c e ll an e o u s block of buildings at the back . In Coleridge ’ s time it would seem to have consisted of two small and rather dark parlours , one on each side of the front door , looking stra ight into the street ; with a small kitchen behind , wholly destitute of modern conveniences , and where the ﬁre was made on the hearth in the most primitive manner T conceivable . here cannot have been more d h . t an three , or at most four be rooms above Th e back door gave access to a long strip of - kitchen garden , along the bottom of which was the lane through which was the means [ 53 ] Coleridge and Wo r ds w o r td

’ T o m P of access into oole s garden , which

ran down from another part of it . It is said that Coleridge— after preaching a remarkable sermon at Bridgwater— walked to R ac e do w n to see Wordsworth and it is reported that he wrote from R ac e do w n two

Estli n letters to his friend , who had been

made the treasurer of a fund , organized by “ T P M rs homas oole , asking him to give .

F M r s ﬁve ricker and . Coleridge guineas

each out of the subscription money . h It is pleasant , along wit the record of t hese slight ﬁnancial details , to remember

how Coleridge wrote to Cottle , telling him W that ordsworth admired his tragedy , which , ” he added , gives me great hopes ; and that ,

in a ﬁt of rather extravagant eulogy , he con ’ “ tin n ed that Wordsworth s drama is ab so l t l T u e y wonderful . here are in it those profound truths of the human heart , which I ﬁnd three or four times in Tb e R o dder s S S of chiller , and often in hakespeare , but in W ordsworth there are no inequalities . [ 54 ] ’ Coleridge s Arrival at Stowey — It is v ery diffi cult I fear quite impossible for anyone now to follo w and trace out

’ the dates of all Coleridge s visits from Sto w ey R ac e do w n 1 to in the early summer of 7 97 . I do not myself think that there w as more than one of them [already recorded in de

B ut tail] . it is certain that on the 2 n d of July in that year he returned from R ac e do w n S h i m to towey , bringing back with both W ordsworth and his sister Dorothy . They stayed in the Stowey cottage for a fortnight

Alfo x de n before they went on to , there to settle as tenants in that somewhat remark

’ I t able home . had been Coleridge s wish , a n d was now his realized achievement , to have his friend and brother-bard li v ing so near to him that they could have frequent , if not daily , meetings . It was this that led Wordsworth— doubtless on Coleridge ’ s sug gestion— to migrate from R ac e do w n to Alfo x de n and it was doubtless the impres ’ sion produced on the latter , during his friend s

- le d ever memorable ﬁrst visit , which him [ 55 ] to write that wonderful description o f Dorothy Wordsworth and his exquisite sister are

Sh e d l— i n with me . is a woman in eed

: mind , I mean , and heart for her person is such that , if you expected to see a pretty woman , you would think her rather ordi nary ; i f you expected to see an o r di n arv ! woman , you would think her pretty but her manners are simple , ardent , impressive . In every motion her most innocent soul out beams so brightly that who saw would say

i s s e t o h e r G uilt w as a th i n g mpo ibl .

Her information is various ; her eye watch ful in min utest observation of Nature ; and

her taste a perfect electrometer . It bends ,

protrudes , and draws in at the subtlest

beauties , and the most recondite faults .

[ 56 ]

CHA PTE R IV

S A M U EL TA YLOR C OLE RI DG E A N D WI L LI AM WORD SWORT H T OGETHER I N S OM E R S ET

OLER I D GE t h R e e v . P wrote to J . . li n “ Es t from S towey in 1 7 97 : Our T house is better than we expected . here is a comfortable bedroom and sitting-room L for C . loyd , and another for us , a room for B Nanny , a kitchen and outhouse . efore our

1 door a clear brook runs , of very soft water ; and in the back yard is a nice well of ﬁn e W w . e d n spring ater have a very pretty gar e , large enough to ﬁnd us vegetables and employment ; and I am already an expert

c an gardener , and both my hands exhibit a 2 callum as testimonials for their industry .

h w h an d We ave likewise a s eet orc ard ; , at

1 T n e r s h i s o l o n g e x i s t . 2 A i e c e o f h ar s i n p d k . [ 59 ] Coleridge and PV o r ds w o r td

i t T P the end of , . oole has made a gate ,

which leads into his garden , and from thence either through the tan-yard into his

house , or else through his orchard over a

w M r ﬁne meado into the garden of a s .

w h o Cruikshank , an old acquaintance d marrie on the same day as I did , has now ” r a little gi l younger than David Hartley .

F 6 1 On ebruary , 7 97 , he wrote to John Thelwall

’ D ar i n i ll Dr . w w no doubt excite your

u respectf l curiosity . On the whole , I think

lite r a r he is the ﬁrst y character in Europe , - and the most original minded man . I B F - never go to ristol . rom seven till half past

r F eight I wo k in my garden . rom breakfast till twelve , I read and compose ; then read again , feed the pigs , poultry , etc . , till two ’ d o clock ; after inner , work again till tea ;

r e vie w S o from tea till supper , . jogs the day ,

am . v and I hap py I ha e society , my friend

1 Th e fath e r f a e s o Ch r l Dar w i n . I 6 0 l I n Somerset P T . oole , and as many acquaintances as I can dispense with . Th ere are a number of very pretty young S women in towey , all musical , and I am an immense favourite , for I pun , conundrum

lis ten wise , , and dance . The last is a recent acquirement . God bless you , and your ff a ectionate , T C o LER I D E . S . . G

’ In Joseph Cottle s E a r ly R e c o lle c ti on s we ﬁnd the following letter from Coleridge to

o i n him , of which the date was pr bably “ 1 correctly given as June , 7 97

M Y A R T T L DE CO E , I a m sojourning for a few days at

R ac e do w n W , the mansion of our friend ords W worth . ordsworth admires my tragedy , which gives me great hopes He has written a tragedy himself. I speak with heartfelt sincerity , and (I think) unbiassed judgment , when I tell you that I feel myself a little ma n [ 6 1 ] Coleridge and Wo r ds wo r td

éy lzis side and yet I do not think myself the less man than I formerly thought myself.

His drama is absolutelywonderful . You know that I do not commonly speak in such abrupt f and unmingled phrase , and there ore will the T P ’ more readily believe me . . oole s opinion of Wordsworth is that he is the greatest man

he ever knew I coincide . God bless you . ”

S T L R G . . . CO E ID E

T 1 Coleridge was at aunton on June 5, 7 97 , “ and on the evening of that , or the next

R ac e do w n day , he arrived on foot at , some

f M r orty miles distant , says . Ernest

Coleridge .

W S 1 riting to outhey in July , 7 97 , Cole “ ridge said : I had been o n a visit to ’ W w R ac e d o w n ords orth s , at , near Crewkerne ,

h i s S and I brought him and ister with me ,

s e ttl ed tli em B and here I have . y a combina

’ tion of curious circumsta n ces a gentleman s

seat , with a park and woods , elegantly and

completely furnished , with nine lodging

[ 6 2 ] I n Somerset

, rooms three parlours , and a hall , in the most beautiful and romantic situation by the sea S — side , four miles from tow ey this we have — got for Wordsworth a t tne r a te of tw en ty tb r ee ! pounds a year , taxes included The park a d n woods are lzis for all purposes b e wants them , and the large gardens are altogether and entirely his . Wordsworth is a very

a t a ll great man , the only man to whom , time s a n d in a ll modes o ex c elle n c e f , I feel myself inferior t h e only one I mean w b om

I na ve e t me t w itb L liter a ti y , for the ondon appear to me to be very much like little

t i e n o pota oes , . . great things , a compost of nullity and dullity . Charles Lamb has been with me for a 1 F n week . He left me riday morni g . The f W second day a ter ordsworth came to me , dear S ara emptied a skillet of boiling milk on my foot , which conﬁned me during the L ’ whole time of C . amb s stay , and still pre 1 ’ Ch ar l e s Lamb s vi si t to S t o w e y l as t e d fr o m J uly 7 t o u 1 1 . J ly 4 , 7 97 [ 6 3 ] Coleridge and Wo r ds w o r td vents me from all walks longer than a furlong .

While Wordsworth , his sister , and Charles L o ut amb were one evening , sitting in the

’ T P c o m arbour of . oole s garden , which m u n i c at e s with mine , I wrote these lines , ”1 with which I am pleased . I quote most of them , because they contain the best poetic description that exists of Coleridge ’ s cottage garden , and of what was to be seen in it and from it

- Th i s lime t r e e b o w e r my p ri s o n ! I h av e lo s t e auti e s an d fe e i n s s uc h as w o u h a e e e n B l g , ld v b M n e o s t s w e e t t o my r e me mb r an c e e v e n w h e ag Had imme mi n e e e s to b i n n e s s Th e me an w h i e d d y l d y , l , r i e n s w h o m I n e e r mo r e ma me e t a ai n F d v y g , On s r i n h e ath a o n th e h i -t o e e p gy , l g ll p dg , W an e r i n a n e s s an d W i n o w n e r c h an c e d gl d , d d p , T o t h at s ti r o ar i n e o f w h i c h I t o ll g d ll , ld ’ Th e r o ar i n e o e r w o o de d n ar r o w e e g d ll , , , d p , - And o n ly s p e c kl e d b y t h e mi d day s un ; W n as h fr o r o c t o r o c k h e r e i t s s li m t r u k th e m k i n s ar c h i n i e a b r i e t h at b ran c h e s s as h Fl g g l k dg ; l , U n s un n e an d am w h o s e fe w o o r e o w e a e s d d p , p y ll l v

1 - T h e li n e s w e r e e n ti tl e d TIsis L ime Tr ee B o w e r my “ P r is on b e i n n i n We t h e ar e o n e an d h e r e I , g g , ll , y g , ” m s t e mai n u r .

[ 64 ]

Coleridge a n d Wo r ds wo r td A d e ligh t o m e s s u e n o n m h e ar t an d I am a C dd y , gl d As I m s e f w e r e t h e re ! N o r i n th i s b o w e r y l , Th i s i t t e ime -t r e e b o w e r h a e I n o t mar e l l l , v k d h at h as s o o th e me Pa e e n e ath t h e b a e M uc h t d . l b l z Hun g t h e t r an s par e n t fo li ag e ; an d I w at c h e d S o me b r o a an d s un n e af an d o e t o s e e d y l , l v d Th e s h a o w o f t h e e af an d s t e m a o e d l b v , - Dapplin g i t s s un s h i n e ! an d t h at w al n ut t r e e W as r i c h t in e an d a e e r a i an c e l a ly g d , d p d y u o n th e an c i e n t i v w h i c h u s ur s F ll y , p T h o s e fr o n ti n e ms an d n o w W i th b ac e s t mas s g l ; , l k M ake s t h e i r d ar k b r an c h e s gl e am a ligh t e r h ue Th r o ugh th e lat e tw i ligh t an d th o ugh n o w t h e b at Wh e e s s i e n t b an d n o t a s w a o w t w i t t e rs l l y , ll , Y e t s t ill t h e s o li tar y h u mbl e -b e e - S i n g s i n t h e b e an ﬂ o w e r H e n c e fo r t h I s h all kn o w ’ T h at Natur e n e e r d e s e r t s t h e W i s e an d p ur e ; N o o t s o n ar r o w b e b ut at ur e th e r e pl , N N o w as t e s o ac an t b ut ma w e e m o v , y ll pl y Eac h fac u t o f s e n s e an d e e t h e h e ar t l y , k p Aw ake t o Lo ve an d B e aut y an d s o me t ime s ’ Ti s w e t o b e e r e ft o f r o mi s e o o ll b p d g d , Th at w e ma ift t h e s o u an d c o n t e m at e y l l , p l Wi th i e o t h e o s w e c an n o t s h ar e l v ly j y j y .

He adds , after quoting the poem

“ I would make a shift , by some means or other , to visit you , if I thought that you [ 66 ] I n Somerset S and Edith outhey would return with me . I have driven back M iss Wordsworth d over forty miles of execrable roa s , and have

u always been very cautio s , and I am now no

A n d inexpert whip . Wordsworth , at whose

c o m house I am for change of air , has missioned me to offer you a suite of rooms at — — this place which is called Alfo x de n and so divine and wild is the country that I am sure it wo uld increase your stock of ima ges

’ and three weeks abse n ce from Christch urch S will endear it to you . Edith outhey and S ara may not have another opportunity of seeing one another , and Wordsworth is very M W solicitous to know you . iss ordsworth i s a most exquisite young woman in her i m mind and heart . I pray you write me

affe c mediately . God bless you , and your

i at e t o n ,

L R G S . . . T CO E ID E

R eference has been already made to

’ Wordsworth s toil over his tragedy , and [ 67 ] Coleridge and Wo r ds w o r td

’ ’ his friends appreciation of it . Coleridge s admiration , although most genuine , was

1 6 P excessive . In 7 9 he wrote to oole to come to hear it read under the trees at Nether Stowey ; and he afterwards wrote t ff to the publisher Cot le thus , o ering his

’ own tragedy and Wordsworth s together : “ I am requested by Wordsworth to put to you the following question : What could W you conveniently and prudently , and hat ﬁ would you give , rst , for our two tragedies , with small preface . (The tragedies are to

ﬁve gether thousand lines , which when - printed in dialogue form , with directions respecting actors and scenery , are at least S equal to six thousand . ) econd , Words worth ’ s ‘ Salisbury Plain ’ and ‘ Tale of a W oman , with a few others which he will 3 add , will make a volume ff Cottle writes that he replied to this , o er “ i M r W M r . ing . Coler dge and ordsworth thirty guineas each , as proposed , for their

1 Hi s Guilt a n d S o r r o w . I 68 l I n Somerset

; two tragedies but this , after some hesita tion , was declined , from the hope of intro du c i n g one or both upon the stage . The volume of poems was left for future arra n ge ” ment .

B u t , as time went on , Coleridge managed

T o m P either through oole , orhis brother

l e o r de r r s r to get B e introd uced to M .

Harris , the manager of Covent Garden T L heatre , ondon , who promised to give his

answer immediately ; and , if he accepts it , to put it in preparation without an hour ’ s ” 1 delay .

2 0 t h 1 On the November , 7 97 , Dorothy “ ’ Wordsworth wrote : William s play is ﬁ nished , and sent to the managers of the

W e v Covent Garden Theatre . ha e not the ” faintest expectation that it will be accepted .

2 1 1 W On December st , 7 97 , Dorothy ords worth wrote from Bristol to a correspondent u n known : W e have been in Lo n

don ; our business was the play , and the

1 V o l I . 2 I . Ea r R ecollection s . ly , , p 5

6 9 Coleridge and Wo r ds w o r td play is rejected . It was sent to one of the principal actors at Covent Garden , who expressed great approbation , and advised William strongly to go to London to make

’ certain alterations . Coleridge s play is also ” rejected .

It must never be forgotten , however , that in that lowly abode— now happily secured for posterity and for the nation— Coleridge

r did his best and most endu ing poetic work .

B u t fo r his residence there , the world would never have received Tne A n c ie n t M a r in er and many other poems of his literary man A hood . nother point may be noted . 1 “ As M r S a m : A . l on writes characteristic that links the Q uan t o c k s with the farther W est is the presence of pixies . The pixy is the special Celtic variant of the ordina ry fairy or elf, and it only lingers now in the W E est of ngland . Its Chief homes are on

Dartmoor , and in Cornwall ; but its presence

E r ua n t o c k s on xmoo , and the Q proves con

1 L ite r a r R a mdles in tbe Wes t o En la n d . 26 1 y f g , p .

I 7 0 l I n Somerset t i n u an c e T of Celtic tradition . hey are not — seen nowadays , for the pixy folk do not

u manifest themselves to the incredulo s but , within living memory , a farmer is said to have seen some threshing his corn in a barn

’ near Holford village . This is quoted not as an accredited fact , but as an instance of the survival of old and widespread belief i n younger and le ss cre dulous days . CHAPTER V C OLE RI DG E A ND T HOMA S POOL E HE modern literary world has come S to associate Nether towey , and the last decade of the eighteenth and the ﬁrst

of the nineteenth century , almost exclusively with two “ twin brethren ” in the poetic primacy ; but it cannot help remembering

their allies and coadjutors . The chief of P these assuredly was Thomas oole . He ff o ered , or secured for , Coleridge the tiny “ cottage in the village at a nominal rent ,

c an although no one say if it was ever paid ,

or asked for . His recognition of the poet is easily under

’ stood , but Coleridge s friendship with him was due to several things his appreciation of the union of inborn intelligence with a thoughtful and discrim inative study of I 7 25]

Coleridge and Tdomas Poole books , and the spectacle of an industrious life , in which the common necessities of existence could be met a n d paid for by hard labour , without the expenditure of a great sum of money . The combination of literary

— a sympathy knowledge of, and love for Literature— with the toil of an expert handi craftsman , had a great fascination for Cole

at ridge . Other friends this period of his life were more one-sided men than Thomas P L oole . Charles loyd , who lived with him

Es tli n for a time , was a recluse invalid . was a schoolmaster and a preacher . Charles — Lamb t h e best friend he (p r obably) ever — ffi - had was only an o ce Clerk , although one — of the rarest letter writers of his own , or of any other time ; but Thomas Poole was a w r ke r w ita li is o w n lza n ds o , a practical pro

’ - du c e r of what all I l l S fellow men needed

every day of their lives . He was thus one

of the best examples of helpful industry , combined with continuous and devoted study

of what transcends all industrial success .

[ 7 5 ] Coleridge and Wo rds w o r td

’ All M r s n S an dfo r d s who have read . He ry

Tb oma s P o o le a n d bis Fr ien ds book , entitled , know this right well but few perhaps can realize completely what it w as for Coleridge to escape betimes from his tiny cottage into that ﬁne old house behind his garden , and the w P tannery , in hich oole kept his books , and there to read at leisure as he liked . He

P 1 6 wrote to oole on November 5, 7 9

‘ To u live in a beautif l country , and to enure myself as much as possible to the labours of the ﬁeld , have been for this year m i d part my dream of the day , my sigh at n b ut n ea r o u ight to enjoy these blessings y ,

u to see you daily , to tell you all my tho ghts in their ﬁrst birth and to hear yours , to be ! mingling identities with you , as it were the vision-weaving fancy has often pictured such

lzo e n things , but p ever dared whisper a promise . Envy me not this immortal

u e r se c u dra ght , and I will forgive all thy p ” tions . I 7 6 l Coleridge and Tnomas Poole Wordsworth wrote of Poole as follows

“ Alfo x de n During my residence at I used.

h ad to see much of him , and frequent occa

sions to admire the course of his life , espe c i ally his conduct to his labourers and poor neighbours . Their wishes he carefully e n c o u r a e d g , and weighed their faults in the scales of charity . He was much beloved

M r by distinguished persons , . Coleridge , ” M r S . Si r outhey , H . Davy , and many others .

De Quincey described him as a stout ,

- n plain looking farmer, leadi g a bachelor life — in a rustic old fashioned house ; the house , however , proving to be amply furnished with modern luxuries , and especially with b a good li rary , superbly mounted in all departments , bearing on political philosophy ; and the farmer turning out a polished Eng lishman , who had travelled extensively , and had so entirely devoted himself to the ser — vice o f his humble fellow-countrymen the hewers of wood and drawers of water in 7 7 Coleridge and Wo r ds w o r td this southern part of S omersetshire— that for many miles round he was the general arbiter of their disputes , the guide and fﬁ counsellor of their di culties , besides being appointed executor and guardian to his Children by every third man who died in ” t h e S or about town of Nether towey .

The letters addressed to Poole by Cole ridge before he went to Stowey are n o t

s . quoted , or referred to , in thi book They will be fo u nd in the two volumes of his

’ M r E grandfather s letters , edited by . rnest

u u Coleridge . In s bseq ent chapters of this o n e P many other references to oole occur .

That ever kind and most generous , as well

u as caref l man , soon found out that Cole

i h ridge was a mass of ﬁnancial troubles , and was himself thinking of many possible exits

e I from them , . g . ( ) the founding of a fresh newspaper ; (2) becoming the minister in a Unitarian pulpit ; b u t was n ever thinking “ either of supplying h i s wife with a home

[ 7 8 ] Coleridge and Tdomas Poole

o w n i that she could call her , or of do ng anything for his own permanent m ai n t e n ance . There is no doubt that the Stowey cottage was a refuge— and in some respects a real home to him— mai nly because of the kind ness of Thomas Poole and as they lived so near they could if they wished see each

other almost daily . Coleridge wrote

A n d n o w b e o e S t o w e I e h o , l v d y b ld T h c h u r c h -t o w e r an d me th i n s th e fo ur h u e e ms y , k g l u s t e r i n w h i c h mar t h e man s i o n o f m fr i e n Cl g , k y d A n d c o s e e h i n th e m h i e n fr o m m i e w l b d , dd y v , I s m o w n o w c o tt a e W h e r e m b ab e y l ly g , y ’ An d my b ab e s mo th e r dw e ll i n p e ac e ! The chief interest to posterity in the S towey cottage is doubtless due to the fact that here

the long preliminary musings , which gave

Tb c A n c ie n t M a r i n e r Cb r i s ta oe l birth to and ,

T/ze began , and that in it were composed

N igb ting a l e and other poems of his prime . What Wordsworth wrote at Alfo x de n was not equal to what Coleridge wrote S W or planned o ut at towey . ordsworth

[ 7 9 ] Coleridge and Wo r ds wo r td S gathered the material in omerset , which he afterwards worked up into poe tic form but neither in l e D a n is b B oy nor in

Simo n L ee di d he do his best , and in the later poem he took the scene away from

S W Tb e T/zor n omerset to ales . He wrote and the far less successful I diot B oy at

Alfo x de n P e ter B e ll ; also , which is far

h i s A from best poem of its class or kind . far better , though a somewhat trivial poem , based on a small incident which occurred during an earlier V isit to the ruins of Good

i n M rich Castle , onmouth , was written (but left unﬁnished) at Alfo x de n .

We should remember , however , that both the I dio t B oy and P e ter B e ll by Words w L in es to a Y o un A s s orth , and the g by

Coleridge , were the outcome of the some

o what erratic poetic the ry , elaborated by

h n o s ué ec t the two poets at t at time , that j

’ w a s to o tr ivia l o r th e oe t s to uc l) f p , and that an ignoble theme might even glorify a poem taken from a very humble episode in

[ 8 0 ]

Coleridge and Wo r ds w o r td S T of his friend . . Coleridge being already S W settled at Nether towey . ithout some intermediary ofunimpeachable respectability , Wordsworth had already received practical proof of the hopelessness of being suitably T An housed in that high ory district . application for Alfo x de n had been indeed

already made by him , and refused on the

ground of his seditious sympathies . Thomas Poole brought forward evidence of his

’ friend s real innocence and harmlessness . Eventually the poet secured the tenancy of 1 - Alfo x de n 0 . for £ 4 a year , deer park and all The place thus became as important a land mark as R ydal itself in the evolution of the

L At Alfo x de n W ake poets . itself, as ords

’ worth s guest , Coleridge wrote both his

L ibe r t Fe a r s in S olitude and his Ode to y .

Wordsworth desired to contin ue his tenancy . S t A b The . lbyn owners had een plied with

1 W d rt h I t w ill b e se e n t h a t Co l e ridge w ro t e t o o r s w o “ u 1 t h at t h e ra t e w as t o b e t w e n t -t h re e (J ly , 7 95) y ” in o un s a e a r t ax e s c u e . p d y , l d d [ 8 2 ] Coler idge and Tnomas P oole renewed reports of the poet ’ s revolutionary

. B associations efore renewing the lease , they w sent do n a detective to make inquiries . This offi cer of the law happened to possess F W a very long nose . ollowing ordsworth and Coleridge in one of their frequent walks , he heard them talk about the philosopher

S Bo w S pinosa . To the keen ear of the treet

ffi u m o cial , the strange word implied some complimentary comment on his nasal organ .

T r e hus wounded at a sensitive point , he ported so unfavourably of the poets that the non-renewal of the lease prevented Words worth from prolonging his residence beyond

’ the year .

[ 8 3 ] CHAPTE R VI

COL E R I DG E A N D S OUTH EY

HI S is of necessity , like the last a short S — Chapter . outhey although born in B — S ristol was not much in the omerset group , of which Wordsworth and Coleridge were

En the chiefs , who made that district of g W land poetically famous . He was a est minster boy , and went from his school to B alliol College , Oxford . He became a friend Pan ofColeridge , and was captivated by the ” t i s o c r ac y scheme . In his youth he was much P A in ortugal . lthough one ofthe three poets who were afterwards erroneously grouped to “ E L ” gether as those of The nglish akes , h i s permanent fame— and it is a lasting one —w as based not on his poems , but on his vast literary output in miscellaneous dirc e tions (in which he had no superior) and on

[ 84 ]

Coleridge and Wo r ds w o r td

A A 1 e ar h e gain , on ugust 9th ofthe same y , Be d wrote to another friend , Grosvenor C . “ : S T o ford I love the outh . England I have no strong tie the friends whom I love live so widely apart that I never see two in

a place ; and , for acquaintance , they are to be found everywhere . Thus much for the future for the present I am about to move

w h o L to Coleridge , is at the akes . If you have not seen the second volume of

’ W L r ic a l B a lla ds ordsworth s y , I counsel you to buy them and to read a l o ud the poems

Tli e B r o tb er s M ic b a el entitled and , which ,

especially the ﬁrst , are to me excellent . I h ff ave never been so much a ected , and so

w e ll . , as by some passages there God bless

you . Yours as ever ,

R O BE RT S OU T HEY .

He wrote again to his friend Grosvenor C . “ ! 6 th 1 8 0 1 S . B d K . e ford eswick , ept , M y dreams incline to Lisbon as a resting

place . I am really attached to the country ; [ 8 6 ] Coleridge and So utdey

— o dd — and as it may seem to the people . Cintra is my paradise the heaven on earth of my hopes . Al th o ugh I am not putting into this volume any reminiscences of Wordsworth and Cole S ridge after they left omersetshire , I may S include part of a letter from outhey , who h was afterwards Closely associated with t em .

M B n It is addressed to iss arker , and is writte from

K SW CK Feb 1 8 0 E I , , 4 . 0 M a r ia S a n c tis s ima M ount Horeb , with the glory upon its summit , might have been more glorious , but not more beautiful , than old Skiddaw in his winter pelisse of

n ermi e . I will not quarrel with frost , though the fellow has had the impudence to take

u me by the nose . The lakeside has s ch ten thousand Charms ; a ﬂeece of snow , or of the — boar frost , lies on the fallen trees , or large - stones the grass points , that just peer above the water , are powdered with diamonds ; the ice on the margin with chains of crystal , [ 8 7 ] Coleridge and Wo r ds w o r td and such veins and wavy lines of beauty as

al l w all C o l e r i d e mock art and , to cro n , g and I have found out that stones thrown upon the

m n lake when frozen , ake a noise like si ging birds ; and , when you whirl on it a large

flake of ice , away the shivers slide , chirping and warbling like a flight of finches . This extract from a letter of S outhey ’ s

h i m me udic e puts , j , almost on the level of the two Wordsworths , and of Coleridge , as a delineator of Nature . A nother extract from a later letter , sent by

S F 1 6 outhey from Greta Hall on ebruary th ,

1 8 0 u i n 4 , may be added here , as it is a f rther stance o f his rare felicity as a letter-writer

A R R SV N R -I DE G O E O , have seen a sight more dreamy and wonderful than any scenery that fancy ever yet devised for fairyland . We had walked down to the lakeside : it l h was a de ightful day , the sun s ining , and a few white clouds hanging motionless in the

Th e sky . opposite shore of Derwentwater [ 8 8 ]

Coleridge and Wo r ds wo r td

ﬁrm am e n t s S between the . hut your eyes , and dream of a scene so unnatural and so l beautifu . What I have said is most strictly and scrupulo usly true ; but it was one o f

c an those happy moments that seldom occur , for the least breath stirri ng would have

un shaken the whole vision , and at once realized it . I have before seen a partial

n appearance , but before ever did , and per haps never again may lose sight of the lake entirely ; for it literally seemed like an abyss of sky before me , not fog or clouds from a mountain , but the blue heaven spotted with a few ﬂ e e c y billows of clo u d that looked ” placed there for angels to rest upon them .

This passage has no connection with Somer d set , and it is only inserte here from its being an apt illustration of S outhey ’ s descriptive power , and from the close relation in which he stood to the other poets of the Cumbrian district .

Coler idge and Wo r ds w o r td residents in all the towns that lie near the main track of the railway to the south-west of England . It can never be forgotten by the students of English literature that it was in this district that the monumental Ly r ic a l B a ll a ds of Wordsworth and Coleridge were born ; but I have already written so much about both of these two pioneers , that I prefer to put into this book the w ords of other appreciative men .

M r A L S . rthur . almon writes in his L ite r a ry R a mél e s in tb c We s t of E ngla n d The spirit of Wordsworth was experiencing the soothing inﬂuences of Nature , and of

’ R ac e do w n r e his sister s society at , and was d covering its tone , which had been impaire by the disappointments of the French R evo l u ti o n . In no narrow sense , the poet was

‘ ’ being born again . It was here that he

Guilt a n d S or r o w r wrote his , his t agedy

Tb c B o r der er s far R of , and the ﬁner uined

1 2 0 p . 5 . ’ Cottage , which became incorporated in the l e E x c ur s io n ﬁrst book of . Th e perfect solitude of the place , and its rusticity , entirely delighted the poet and his ‘ : sister ; indeed , the sister wrote later I think R ac e do w n is the place dearest to my recollections upon the whole surface of the

’

[ island . It was the ﬁrst home I had . When Coleridge came in 1 7 97 the three were ripe

Th e for mutual friendship . young men

’ compared notes , shared each other s literary i ’ asp rations and ideals , read each other s poems : Dorothy Wordsworth added the gracious touch of femininity .

n M r S I thi k that . almon is justiﬁed in saying of Wordsworth that h i s genius was as fully at home in S omerset as among the L ” 1 grander hills of the ake Country . Although these Quantock Hills have a rare sylvan beauty of their own , and their coombs (which are pastoral valleys) are — unique in their way , they now are and

1 P 2 53

95 Coleridge and Wo r ds wo r td — will probably continue to b e more famous with posterity as the temporary resting—place of the two illustrious men connected wi th L the iterature of England . These kindred spirits were drawn to the district by profound

fﬁ . mutual a nity , and by corresponding ideals It was a happy magnetism that brought m W Coleridge fro Clevedon , and ordsworth S R ac e do w n . from , to the district of towey Thomas Poole— one of the veteran states men o f Stowey— was the chief resident in it , and he attracted both men ; but many L visitors , from Charles amb downwards n S i cluding outhey , De Quincey , Hazlitt ,

T . Humphry Davy , helwall , etc were drawn to them , and were detained as associate guests . S ome time in the autumn of 1 7 99 (the date is unascertainable) Coleridge wrote to — John Thelwall who h ad asked him if S possible to procure him a cottage at towey , or near i t— that he had received an answer from his frie n d Chubb that he would under

Coleridge and Wordsworth S ome amusing if not quite authentic anecdotes about the spy will be found in ’ 1 io r a h ia iter a r ia A Coleridge s B g p L . lthough

’ therefore Th e l w all s visit to the district brought both of the poets into transient trouble , it was not serious , and soon passed away . A t M r s . S the same time , as Henry and

i n Th oma s P o o le a n d h is Fr ien ds ford says her , Wordsworth ’ s sister was as great a mystery to the rustic imagination as he was himself.

The profound seclusion in which they lived , the incomprehensible nature of their o c c u

u patio , their strange habit of frequenting

-o f— - out the way and untrodden spots , the very presence of an unexplained child th at was no relation to either of them , all combined to produce an impression of awe

M r s S t A and mistrust . . . lbyn became

r e alarmed , and ﬁnally Wordsworth

c e i ve d 1 8 . notice to quit in June , 7 9

1 1 V l I 2 0 . h a te r X. o . C p , p 4

[ 98 ]

Coleridge and Wordsworth intending a local committee for the p r o te c tion of the building .

G e sw e ll M r . r has written a valuable paper for the Trust on the history of the cottage , which it is impossible for me to reproduce in full . It is procurable , however , without difﬁculty by all who are interested i n the subject . I quote from it

Inscribed on the tablet afﬁxed to the

S t h e Nether towey cottage are words , Here

S . . 1 T Coleridge made his home , 7 97 The one reason which induced him to settle at Nether Stowey was his desire to be near

P We his friend Thomas oole . have it on his own authority that to be ‘ in the sight of this friend ’ s face ’ was the desire of his heart , and that if this wish could be realized life would go well with him .

A t A Gl o u c e s one time cton , a village in t e r sh i re P , was suggested to Coleridge by oole C himself as a place of abode , but oleridge

Th e rejected it with scorn . country round

[ 1 0 2 ] The Coleridge Cottage A cton was too ﬂat and monotonous , and the poet declared that he ‘ would as soon live on

’ the banks of a Dutch canal .

In words already quoted , Coleridge wrote

Si x S I shall have companions my ara , my babe , my own shaping and disquisitive mind , T P my books , my beloved friend homas oole , and lastly , Nature looking at me with a thousand looks of beauty and speaking to me in a thousand melodies of Love All this S was to be got at Nether towey , and at S Nether towey alone . “ At ﬁrst it was not easy to ﬁnd a home T for Coleridge in the village itself. here was a place called Adsc o mb e in the neigh b o ur i n S g parish of Over towey , at the entrance of the romantic coomb of S even

uan t o c k s Wells under the Q . Here , centu

B n A ries ago , the monks ofthe e edictine bbey A K A ’ of thelney , ing lfred s foundation , had

Adsc o mb e a small lodgment , and the ruins of

Chapel still survive . “ Th e Adsc o m b e ll plan , however , fe

I 1 0 3 l ( o l er i a ? al fﬁan ﬁt vo rt hi Z gn can .h a

a through , and probably it was fortun te that such was the case ; for , notwithstanding its — romantic situation , and old world associa tions of monks and friars (for Franciscan Friars as well as Athelney Benedictines were to be found there , and gave a name to

‘ ’ Fr yarn and Fryar n Wood up Seven

Wells) , Coleridge would have been too far ” o ﬂ' from h i s friend Poole for s uch daily and

B u t fo rt u hourly intercourse as he desired . n ate ly the cottage in Lime Street became available , being the last house on the west

S o side of Nether towey , with a go d garden T ’ and orchard attached to it . his is the poet s own account of his abode , in a letter written

R e v P Estli n S to his friend the . J . . [ towey , 1 7 97 ]

Our house is better than we expected . There is a comfortable bedroom and sitti ng L room for C . loyd , and another for us , a room B for Nanny , a kitchen and outhouse . efore our door a clear brook runs , of very soft water ; and in the back yard is a nice well of

[ 1 94 ]

Coleridge and Wordsworth which must have been running down Lime S T treet . his must not be confused with the brook which ﬂowed , and still ﬂows , down

’ i n P Castle Street front of oole s doors . It - must have been a continuation of a mill leet , - or mill race , on the west side of the Cole ridge Cottage gardenand orchard , and dividing his little place from the present glebe ground ,

n o w At used as allotment grounds . that date neither the western annexe of the Coleridge

u Cottage , nor the house and gro nds , now

M r M r occupied by . oore , and formerly pa t of the orchard with the garden plot adjoin ing , were built and the western and south B western views towards incombe , and the

u ridges of Quantock , were nobstructed .

’ ‘ A n d now , writes one , I will give you n a short accou t of the house . It is very small

and very simple . Three rooms below and

three above , all small . The window to my room has no opening , but a pane of glass is

made to slide in and out by a piece of wire .

B u t simple as the structure is , it shelters us

[ 1 0 6 ] The Coleridge Cottage

well and I have delightful society , and am

c an therefore quite content . Here you be

s u e r ﬂ ui t i e r happy without p s . Cole idge has a ﬁne little boy about nine or ten months old , whom he has named David Hartley — for B B Hartley and ishop erkeley are his idols , and he thinks them two of the greatest men

that ever lived . This child is a noble , healthy

looking fellow , has strong eyebrows and

beautiful eyes . It is a treat , a luxury , to see Coleridge hanging over his i nfant and talk l ing to it , and fancying what he wi l be in

’

future days . William and Dorothy Wordsworth were guests before and after they settled at Alfo x

den , and , doubtless , frequent visitors during

1 — their year of residence (July , 7 97 July ,

‘ ’ 1 7 98) in the large mansion in a large park 2 which they rented for £ 3 per annum . In

1 L w - July , 7 97 , Charles amb was a fello guest

with the Wordsworths , and enjoyed a

few pleasant holidays after , and in spite of, A much tribulation . In the ugust of the [ 1 0 7 ] Coleridge and Wordsworth T same year John helwall , republican lecturer S and elocutionist , made his way to towey and

um slept at the cottage , an unbidden but not welcomed guest .

A A — S 1 year later ( ugust eptember , 7 99) R S obert outhey and his wife , who was sister

M r s to . Coleridge , passed some weeks with

-i n — f his brother law , once more his riend . “ ’ Once , too , came Coleridge s publisher ,

u Joseph Cottle , a kind friend if an nwise biographer , who has left us a pleasant picture — — ’ o f the summer house perhaps in Poole s

‘ n garde , perhaps in the orchard with its tripod table laden with delicious bread and Cheese and surmounted by a brown mug of

’ the true Taunton ale . “ It was , indeed , as Coleridge might have

h a r h o ur o us - said , a , that is , guest loving , and hospitable abode . “ In pleasant contrast to the obscurity which hangs over the cottage at Clevedon , occupied by C o l e r i dge just before the Nether S towey period , there is a great deal of trust

[ 1 0 8 ]

The Coler idge Cottage worthy evidence available about his abode L S in ime treet . Originally it was a small thatched cottage (it is now tiled) with four — rooms two bedrooms and two sitti n g-rooms — n o w looking out into the village street , as . The S ide window of the left-hand sitti n g room was a later addition . The back kitchen , - W the well with its old fashioned indlass , the back premises , and the outhouses are there Th . e as formerly bay tree , sheltering what

‘ ’ B a T P may be called the y ree lot , has ﬂourished as far as the memory of man c an take us back . The original garden and orchard have been divided , and the western portion of them came to be occupied by

1 0 another house and garden , owned in 9 9

M r M B ut by . oore . a good strip of what was the old orchard (boasting perhaps three or four survivin g apple trees) is still attached to the Coleridge Cottage , and leads right up to the gateway that was originally made by Thom as Poole to facilitate the visits of the

Th e n o w . poet , but is built up and stopped

[ 1 1 1 ] P ’ original oole property , which in Coleridge s time probably included a block of land to the w est of Castle S treet and adjoining the present Castle House boundaries as they now

exist , has fallen into the hands of various

Th e c an owners . tannery be traced , as can - the stream and mill leet , together with an

ancient barn or outhouse . The village school ,

close by , stands upon a portion of land given by Poole for the purposes of village i n st r u c

h e tion , where himself taught . It is still a standing memorial , in its altered modern aspect , to the worth and piety of its founder

c and benefa tor . His gift was made when there was but small general interest in what may be called public or elementary educa tion . “ On the west of the original Coleridge

Cottage itself, and abutting it as a separate

x i n building , is a new cottage or anne e , all

n cluded in the ational purchase .

“ ‘ ’ Th e l B vil age itself was a small orough , with a market of its own , for centuries .

[ 1 1 2 ]

Coleridge and Wordsworth

“ It is certain , of course , that Coleridge

R e v preached for the . Joshua Toulmin , the

a T Unit rian minister at aunton , and that he took the trouble to walk all the way from — Nether Stowey to Taunton a distance of

— B n eleven miles over i combe ridge , to do so . A ‘ S lay sermon from . T . Coleridge must n have been welcome on all and every occasio . About the work done at Nether S towey — nothing n eed be said or repeated here only Wi this , that in conjunction with lliam

W Alfo x de n ordsworth , who came to live at , it became in time a landmark in English literature Th e volume known as Ly r ic a l B a ll a ds ( 1 7 98) best explains the meaning and signiﬁcance of this landmark . Yet the attention of most readers has been mainly ‘ L S ’ directed to the ake chool , as it was ‘ L ’ termed , not to the and of Quantock or S the county of omerset . Nevertheless , with the S outhey family sprung from Lydeard S t L . awrence on the west side of the Quan

T o m P tocks , with Coleridge and oole

[ H 4 ] The Coleridge Cottage S W resident at Nether towey , and illiam and

Alfo x de n Dorothy Wordsworth resident at , W L B (to say nothing of . . owles , born at

Uphill) , a further acknowledgment might have been made to S omerset and the Quan tock Hills as the cradle of genius and the fountain of poetical and literary inspiration . It is needless to observe that the birth of a new poetical era was hardly noticed at the S time in the county of omerset . Nor was i it much apprec ated outside . The neigh b o ur h o o d long entertained unworthy sus pi c i o n s of the doings of Coleridge and especially of Wordsworth (who was fond

K — a of ilve beach , in old days a landing pl ce

’ u and sm gglers resort) , notwithstanding their friendship with such a w ell-known man as Poole Th e story of these suspicions is told

x ia c a . Bi o r a h ia L iter a r . in the g p , p , and

Th o ma s P o o le a n d h is Fr ien ds , and the fact that a spy was actually sent by the Govern ment to report the doings and sayings of l the dangerous c on spir a to r s has recen t y been [ 1 1 5 ] Coleridge and Wordsworth established by the discovery of papers pre served i n the Home Ofﬁce . “ Yet it was felt by some who had a wider patriotism and a fuller appreciation of lit e rary work that this neglect could not be per d T m i t t e to go on . ime had exposed the shallowness of hasty local suspicion , and had proved the good and sturdy citizenship of R obert S outhey (a staunch supporter of S W W Church and tate) , of illiam ordsworth a n d Sam uel Taylor Coleridge ; and time had published and consecrated the honour able friendships and unblemished life of

T P S e homas oole , who , when he died ( p 8 tember th , was followed to his grave by all the most important men of the coun t r si de y . “ In 1 8 90 the original volume entitled

L r ic a l B a lla ds Pr o y , revised and edited by fe sso r Dowden , and a second issue of the T same work , edited by homas Hutchinson ,

1 8 8 S in 9 , aroused fresh interest in the towey ’ 1 8 M r period of Coleridge s life : in 93 . [ 1 1 6 ]

Coleridge and Wordsworth for the preservation and , ﬁnally , the pur f chase o the cottage itself. Canon Ainger had visited the Q uan t o c k s in the autumn of

a that ye r , and lent the movement the sup

f n an d port o his ame inﬂuence . Together

M r M with . Ernest Hartley Coleridge and r .

n Dykes Campbell , he was prese t at the cere ffi mony that attended the a xing of the tablet . Th e cottage itself had fallen upon some what evil days . It had been converted into - a public house , and boasted of a ﬂying sign

‘ ’ Th e board labelled Coleridge Cottage Inn . The owner was reluctantly persuaded to forego his licence , take down his signboard , and lease the cottage to a Committee for a

1 term of ﬁfteen years , at J£ 5 a year , with option of purchasing it for £ 6 0 0 at the end

1 0 8 of the lease in 9 . The sounds of rustic mirth and revelry disappeared from the pre mises , and there was no further use for the Cider House and Bowling Alley which had At been attached to it . what precise date the cottage had become a village inn is u n

1 1 8 The Coleridge Cottage

’ certain , but at one time after Coleridge s departure a grave Congregationalist minister , P ’ known locally as arson Cave , had dwelt within its walls , and had served the Chapel

. A M just below fter him an old lady , a iss

Newton , lived there . “ The ﬁrst Com mittee of Preservation con R e W v . G re s w e ll R sisted of the illiam , ector

M r E of Dodington ; . rnest Hartley Cole

o f M r ridge , grandson the poet ; . Dykes

P oetic a l Wo r h s Campbell , the editor of his ; R R e V . . S . B . . M r t the J Vernon , and H . arbe

Goldsmith , who became joint lessees of the cottage and garden . New tenants were ff found for the cottage , and an e ort was L made to collect public subscriptions . ord E Coleridge , the Chief Justice of ngland , took much interest in the scheme of preser vation and purchase but his death in 1 8 94 unfortunately deprived the Committee of his

Si r A support . The late Thomas Dyke cland also sympathized with the movement , and

But subscribed to it . , on the whole , the

[ 1 1 9 ] Coleridge and Wordsworth

s upport given was disappointing ; and in

1 8 6 Th e A th en 9 a fresh appeal was made , in

ce um M 2 1 st review of arch , for subscriptions to be deposited in aid of the Purchase F S ’ B B und at tuckey s ank , ridgwater ; the manager of which had kindly consented to

a c t L Th e as one of the ocal Committee .

result , however , was again disappointing ;

and it was clear that , under existing circum

stances , the only course open to the Com

m i t te e was to keep the cottage tenanted , and

in good repair, for the term it was rented ,

Th e and trust to fortune . responsibility

M r G r e sw e ll rested chiefly with . during the ’ diffi fifteen years lease , and at times the c ulti e s of keeping the whole scheme , even

c o n in a state of suspended animation , were

s i de r abl e Th e . preservation of the cottage

must be regarded as his work . P K rofessor William night , the editor of Wordsworth ’ s Poems— who had already done so much in the North for Dove Cottage found his way to Nether S towey in the

[ 1 20 ]

Coleridge and Wordsworth

M r P M r . . G . W . rothero , Ernest Hartley

M r S Coleridge , . J . H . Etherington mith , W r e ll R e v G e sw . and the . illiam His M ajesty King Edward VII sent a message expressing his approval of the scheme , and wishing the movement success . Her R oyal Highness the Princess Louise also gave valuable aid by allowing a meeting to K P be held in her rooms at ensington alace ,

th 1 0 8 in support of the fund , on June 7 , 9 , at which she herself presided . On this occasion , and previously at Taunton , on

I st 1 0 M October , 9 7 , and at alvern , lectures

M r in aid of the fund were delivered by .

Ernest H . Coleridge . “ B F y the kindness of M r . rederick H arrison , the owner of the Haymarket é Theatre , a matin e was given for the beneﬁt

1 of the purchase fund on November 3 th ,

1 0 8 Th e A n c ie n t 9 . On this occasion

M a r in er Ch r is ta h el , , and other poems M L A M were recited by iss ena shwell , iss B B R L Honor rooke , the ishop of ipon , ord

[ 1 22 ] The Coleridge Cottage

M r A . ndrew Carnegie , of New York ,

2 0 0 contributed the sum of £ to the fund , and a grant of £ 50 was made by the National Trust for Places of Historic B Interest or Natural eauty . “ As the result of these gifts , and of the P K fund raised by rofessor night , the Com m i t t e e were able to purchase the property in the summer of 1 90 8 and in the autumn of

1 0 w as 9 9it transferred to the National Trust . “ In the course of a letter read at the - K P drawing room meeting at ensington alace , P which he was unable to attend . rofessor Knight wrote : ‘ It is my belief that these outward and visible signs of the life that was led by our greatest poets , in the places

ar e where they wrote their immortal works , valuable natio n al assets : and that they will be welcomed by posterity as amongst its ’ most precious heirlooms . [ 1 2 3 ] Coleridge and Wordsworth “ It was to secure and preserve the Cole ridge Cottage as a national possession that it was bought and conﬁded to the care of the T National rust . “ In the cottage are several portraits and pictures given by Lord Coleridge and other members of the Coleridge family , and by P K A rofessor night . mongst them are ﬁve R e v . portraits of the poet , and one of the S L George Coleridge , ara Coleridge , and ord

Coleridge , together with a framed original letter of the poet , and a photograph of some M ‘ P Coleridge emorials , and of the ixies P S t M T arlour at Ottery . ary . here are also T P portraits of homas oole , Joseph Cottle , L A and Charles amb , of lbert Goodman and T F M homas anshawe iddleton , as well as

’ M r photographs of . Gillman s house at

Hampstead , where Coleridge died , and one of Heidelberg Castle from a sketch made by W Dora ordsworth , when she sailed up the R hine with her father and Coleridge in June ,

1 8 2 9. The above may be regarded as the

[ 1 24 ]

CH APTE R I X

OROT WOR S WOR T ’ S O R N AL D HY D H J U , WR I TT EN A T AL FOXD EN I N 1 7 98 1

ALFOXDEN

n T Ja ua r 2 0 th 1 8 . h e y , 7 9 green paths - down the hill sides are channels for streams . Th e young wheat is streaked by silver lines of water run ning between the ridges ; the sheep are gathered together on the slopes . A fter the wet dark days , the country seems

u more populo s . It peoples itself in the

Th e sunbeams . garden , mimic of spring , — is gay with ﬂowers . The purple starred hepatica spreads itself in the sun , and the clustering snowdrops put forth their white heads , at ﬁrst upright , ribbed with green ; and like a rosebud when completely opened , hanging their heads downwards , but slowly

1 I n th e o r i i n a MS th e r e i s n o ti t e . Th e a o e i s g l . l b v a e s c ri t i e o n e i e n t h e e i to r d p v , g v by d . [ 1 2 6 ]

Coleridge and Words worth and tongues or points of sand ; on our r e f Th e o . turn a gloomy red . sun gone down

Th e Th e . crescent moon , Jupiter and Venus sound of the sea distinctly heard on the tops

of the hills , which we could never hear in summer . We attribute this partly to the bareness of the trees , but chieﬂy to the

absence of the singing of birds , the hum of insects , that noiseless noise which lives in the ’l ai r Th e summer . villages marked out by f beauti ul beds of smoke . The turf fading into the mountain road . The scarlet ﬂowers of the moss . 2 4th Walked between half-past three

— ﬁve and half past . The evening cold and Th . e b clear sea of a so er grey , streaked by the deeper grey Clouds . The half dead

1 ’ “ Co mp ar e i n Ke at s M i s c e llan e o u s Po e ms Th e r e c r e p t A li ttl e n o i s e l e s s n o i s e amo n g s t t h e l e av e s o r n o f th e e r s i h th at s i e n c e h e a e s B v y g l v .

An d o e r i e i n Th e E olia n Ha r C l dg , p T h e s tilly mu r mur o f th e di s tan t s e a ” T e s us o f s i e n c e ll l . [ 1 3 9 ] ’ Dorothy Wo r ds w o r th s Journal — sound of the near sheep bell , in the hollow of the sloping coomb , exquisitely sooth

I n g . h ’ 2 t . P 5 Went to oole s after tea . The d sky spread over with one continuous Clou ,

o f whitened by the light the moon which ,

n o t though her dim shape was seen , did throw forth so strong a light as to chequer A t the earth with shadows . once the clouds

seemed to Cleave asunder , and left her in the

- Sh e centre of a black blue vault . sailed

along , followed by multitudes of stars , small , T and bright , and sharp . heir brightness - seemed concentrated (half moon) .

2 6 th W - . alked upon the hill tops ; fol lowed the S heep tracks till we overlooked

S at . the larger coomb . in the sunshine — Th e t h e n distant sheep bells , sou d of the stream ; the woodman winding along the half-marked road with his laden pony locks

of wool , still spangled with the dewdrops ; - the blue grey sea , shaded with immense

masses of clouds , not streaked ; the sheep

[ 1 3 1 ] Coleridge and Wordsworth R glittering in the sunshine . eturned through Th e the wood . trees skirting the wood being exposed more directly to the action of - - the sea breeze , stripped of the net work of ff their upper boughs , which are sti and erect , like black skeletons ; the ground strewed with the red berries of the holly .

’ S e t R forward before two O clock . eturned

a little after four .

’ 2 th 7 . Walked from seven o clock till - half past eight . Upon the whole an interest

ing evening . Only once while we were in the wood the moon burst through the i n visible veil which enveloped her , the shadows Of d the oaks blackene , and their lines became l more strong y marked . The withered leaves w were coloured with a deeper yello , a brighter gloss spotted the hollies ; again

u n her form became dimmer , the sky ﬂat ,

a marked by distances , white thin cloud .

’ The manufacturer s dog makes a strange ,

u unco th howl , which it continues many minutes after there is no noise near it but

[ 1 3 2 ] without concealing her . The sound of the pattering shower , and the gusts of wind , L d very grand . eft the woo when nothing remained of the storm but the driving wind , P and a few scattering drops of rain . resently

c l e ar V e n u s all , ﬁrst showing herself between the str u ggling clouds ; afterwards Jupiter

d Th e d appeare . hawthorn he ges , black and pointed , glittering with millions of diamond drops ; the hollies shining with broader patches of light . The road to the village of

Holford glittered like another stream . On

u n our ret r , the wind high ; a violent storm of hail and rain at the Castle of Comfort 1 All the heavens seemed in one perpet u al motion when the rain f ceased ; the moon appearing , now hal veiled , and now retired behind heavy clouds , the stars still moving , the roads very dirty .

s t A Fe h r ua ry 1 . bout two hours before

M r B dinner , set forward towards . artholo

1 An i n n n e ar at h an d .

[ 1 34 ] ’ Dorothy Wo r ds w o r th s Journal

’ 1 mew s . Th e wind blew so keen in our faces that we felt ourselves inclined to seek

T h ad the covert of the wood . here we a warm shelter , gathered a burthen of large rotten boughs blo w n down by the wind of

Th e the preceding night . sun shone Clear , but all at once a heavy blackness hung over

. Th e the sea trees almost roared , and the ground seemed in motion with the multi tudes of dancing leaves , which made a rust

n ling sound , disti ct from that of the trees .

S t h e till , asses pastured in quietness under the hollies , undisturbed by these forerunners of the storm . The wind beat furiously

h e F . S against us , as we returned . ull moon rose in uncommon majesty over the sea ,

S at ascending through the clouds . with the window open an hour in the moonlight . W 2 n d . alked through the wood , and on to the Downs before dinner ; a warm plea

Th e sant air . sun shone , but was often

1 M r ar th o o me w r e n te Alfo xd e n an d s u e t th e . B l d , bl h o us e to Wo r d sw o r th . [ 1 3 5 ] Coleridge and Wordsworth

Th e r d obscured by straggling clouds . e breasts made a ceaseless song in the wood .

Th e wind rose very high in the evening . Th e room smoked so that we were obliged

i n to quit it . Young lambs a green pasture in the coomb , thick legs , large heads , black staring eyes .

r d A 3 . mild morning , the windows open

f n at break ast , the redbreasts singi g in the W garden . alked with Coleridge over the b hills . The sea at ﬁrst obscured y vapour that vapour afterwards slid in one mighty m ass along the seashore ; t h e islands and one

Th e n point of land clear beyond it . dista t country (wh ich was purple in the clear dull air) overhung by straggling clouds that sailed i t over , appeared like the darker clouds , which are Often seen at a great distance ap are n tl e p y motionless , whil the nearer ones pass quickly over them , driven by the lower

n e wi ds . I nev r saw such a union of earth ,

Th e sky , and sea . clouds beneath our feet spread themselves to the water, and the clouds [ 1 3 6 ]

Coleridge and Wordsworth

th W . S 5 alked to towey with Coleridge , returned by Woodlands a very warm day . In the continued singing of birds distin

u i sh e d g the notes of a blackbird or thrush .

Th e sea overshadowed by a thick , dark mist , the land in sunshin e . The sheltered oaks w and beeches still retaining their bro n leaves .

Observed some trees putting out red S hoots . Query what trees are they P 6 th W S . alked to towey over the hills , returned to tea ; a cold and clear evening ,

Th e the roads in some parts frozen hard . h i d sea by mist all the day .

th P ﬁn d 7 . Turned towards otsdam , but ing the way dirty , changed our course .

Cottage gardens the object of our walk . W W ent up the smaller coomb to oodlands ,

’ ’ to the blacksmith s , the baker s , and through S the Village of Holford . till misty over W . e the sea . The air very delightful saw

i n e w noth ng very , or interesting . 8 th P . Went up the ark , and over the tops

n e w of the hills , till we came to a and very

I 3 8 ’ Dorothy Wo r ds w o r th s Jour nal

delicious pathway , which conducted us to

S a t the coomb . a considerable time upon

the heath . Its surface restless and glittering with the motion of the scattered piles of

’ S withered grass , and the waving of the piders

threads . On our return the mist still hang

ing over the sea , but the opposite coast clear ,

c l iﬂ' S and the rocky distinguishable . In the

t h e deep coomb , as we stood upon sunless

hill , we saw miles of grass , light and glitter

an d ing , the insects passing . W h . 9t illiam gathered sticks .

l o th W W . alked to oodlands , and to the

’ Th e - waterfall . adder s tongue , and the

n ferns , gree in the low , damp dell . These plants now in perpetual motion from t h e current of the air ; in summer only moved A by the drippings of the rocks . cloudy day

1 l th W . alked with Coleridge near to

S Th e . towey . day pleasant , but cloudy S R 1 2 th . . Walked alone to towey eturned A in the evening with Coleridge . mild , l pleasant , C oudy day .

[ 1 3 9 ] Coleridge and Words worth

1 th W th e 3 . alked with Coleridge through A wood . mild and pleasant morning , the

n ear prospect clear . The ridges of the hills

w t h e fringed with wood , sho ing sea through

them like the white sky , and still beyond the

dim horizon of the distant hills , hanging as it were in one undetermined line between

sea and sky .

1 th W 4 . Gathered sticks with illiam in the

wood ; he being unwell , and not able to go

u Th e f rther . young birch trees of a bright

o f red , through which gleams a shade purple .

S o ate down in a thick part of the wo d .

The near trees still , even to their topmost

boughs , but a perpetual motion in those that

Th e skirt the wood . breeze rose gently ;

its path distinctly marked , till it came to the

very spot where we were .

1 th 5 . Gathered sticks in the further wood .

Th e dell green with moss and brambles , and the tall and slender pillars of the unbranching

r e oaks . I crossed the water with letters W B A turned to illiam and asil . shower

[ 1 40 ]

Coleridge and Words worth was beautiful . The branches of the holly pendent with their white burden , but still showing their bright red berries , and their glossy green leaves . The bare branches of w the oaks thickened by the sno .

1 8 th W . Walked after dinner beyond ood 1 A lands . sharp and very cold evening ; ﬁrst observed the crescent moon , a thready bow , attended by Jupiter and Venus in their palest hues . 1 th S 9 . I walked to towey before dinner ; R Wm . unable to go all the way . eturned

Th e alone a ﬁne sunny , clear , frosty day . sea still , and blue , and broad , and smooth .

2 0 th W W . alked after dinner towards ood lands .

2 1 s t . Coleridge came in the morning , Wm which prevented our walking . . went through the wood with him towards Stowey ; a very stormy night .

1 ’ T h i s h o us e w as aft e r w ar s o h n Ke n o n s — to d J y , Wh o m A ur or a L ei h i s e i c at e —an d w as s ub s e ue n t g d d d , q ly t h e r e s i e n c e o f th e R e v . Wi i am i c h o s aut h o r o f Th e d ll N l , u t ch d h i As s ociati o — D an o s a n t e r n s . E Q .

[ 1 42 ] ’ Dorothy Wo r ds w o r th s Journal

2 2n d . Coleridge came in the morning to dinner . Wm . and I walked after dinner to Woodlands the moon and two planets

M e t - sharp and frosty . a razor grinder w ith

’ a soldier s jacket on , a knapsack upon his back , and a boy to drag his wheel . The sea v ery black , and making a loud noise as we came through the wood , loud as if disturbed , and the wind was silent .

2 r d 3 . William walked with Coleridge in

the morning . I did not go out .

2 th - S at c o n 4 . Went to the hill top . a

si de r ab l e time , overlooking the country to Th e wards the sea . air blew pleasantly round

u s Th e . The landscape mildly interesting . Welsh hills capped by a huge range of

tumultuous white clouds . The sea , spotted W with hite , of a bluish grey in general , and

streaked with darker lines . The near shores - clear ; scattered farmhouses , half concealed

by green mossy orchards , fresh straw lying at - B the doors ; hay stacks in the ﬁelds . rown l fa lows , the springing wheat , like a shade of [ 1 43 ] Coleridge and Wordsworth green over the brown earth , and the choice - meadow plots , full of sheep and lambs , of a soft and vi vid green ; a fe w wreaths of blue smoke , spreading along the ground ; the oaks and beeches in the hedges retaining their yello w leaves ; the distant prospect on the — land side , islanded with sunshine ; the sea , like a basin full to the margin ; the dark , - fresh ploughed ﬁelds ; the turnips of a lively

R . rough green . eturned through the wood

2 th 5 . I lay down in the morning ; though

the whole day was very pleasant , and the

W e evening ﬁne . did not walk . 2 6 th . Coleridge came in the morning , and 1 M r M r s . and . Cruikshank walked with S A Coleridge nearly to towey after dinner .

o W e u very clear aftern on . lay sidelong pon

the turf, and gazed on the landscape till it

melted into more than natural loveliness .

Th e sea very uniform , of a pale greyish blue , i only one distant bay , br ght and blue as a sky ;

had there been a vessel sailing up it , a perfect 1 Of e th e r S to w e th e a e n t o f t h e Ear o f E mo n t . N y, g l g 1 44

Coleridge and Wordsworth

A . wood . very bright moonlight night L Venus almost like another moon . ost to us at Alfo x de n long before she goes down into the large white sea .

M a r c h 1 s t A . We rose early . thick fog obscured the distant prospect entirely ; but the shapes of the nearer trees , and the dome of the wood , dimly seen and dilated . It cleared away between ten and eleven The shapes of the mist , slowly moving along , ex

ui si t e l P q y beautiful . assing over the sheep they almost seemed to have more of life than those quiet creatures . The unseen birds sing 1 ing in the mist . z ud Went a part of the way home with

Coleridge in the morning . Gathered ﬁr apples afterwards under the trees .

’ r d W 3 . I went to the shoemaker s . illiam A lay under the trees till my return . fter wards went to the secluded farmhouse in

1 o m ar e Th e R ec luse i . 1 C p , 9

He r o i c e w as i e a h i e n b i r th at s an v l k dd d g . [ 1 46 ] ’ Dorothy Wo r ds w o r th s Journal search of eggs , and returned over the hill . A Th e very mild , cloudy evening . rose trees in the hedges and the elders budding . th 4 . Walked to Woodlands after dinner , a pleasant evening .

th ﬁr— . A 5 Gathered apples . thick fog W ’ came on . alked to the baker s and the

’ an d shoemaker s , through the ﬁelds towards

Woodlands . On our return , found Tom P oole in the parlour . He drank tea with us . 6 th A . pleasant morning , the sea white

t h e and bright , and full to brim . I walked

n W to see Coleridge in the eveni g . illiam went with me to the wood . Coleridge very ill . It was a mild , pleasant afternoon , but the evening became very foggy . When I

b e was near Woodlands , the fog overhead came thin , and I saw the shapes of the S A Central tars . gain it Closed , and the whole sky was the same . th W 7 . illiam and I drank tea at Cole

’

A . ridge s . cloudy sky Observed nothing particularly interesting , the distant prospect

1 47 obscured . One only leaf upon the top of a tree— the sole remaining leaf— danced round 1 and round , like a rag blown by the wind . 8 th P . Walked in the ark in the morning .

u I sate nder the ﬁr trees . Coleridge came k A after dinner , so we did not wal again .

u foggy morning , but a clear , s nny day .

th A n 9 . clear , sunny morni g , went to M M r rs . meet . and . Coleridge The day very warm .

1 0 th . Wm Coleridge , . and I walked in

We the evening to the top of the hill . all passed the morning in sauntering ab o u t P the ark and gardens , the children playing t o about , the old man at the p of the hill gathering furze ; interesting gro u ps ofh u man

u creatures , the yo ng frisking and dancing in the sun , the elder quietly drinking in the life a n d s u n soul of the and air .

1 ? Did th i s s ugge s t t h e li n e s i n Ch r is ta be l Th e o n e r e d e af th e as t o f i t s c an l , l l , Th at an c e s as o ft e n a s an c e i t c a n d d ,

an i n s o i h t an d h an i n s o h i h H g g l g , g g g , On t h e to mo s t t w i t h at o o s u at t h e s k p g l k p y . [ 1 48 ]

Coleridge and Words worth

way . On our return , sheltered under the — hollies , during a hail shower . The withered W leaves danced with the hailstones . illiam 1 wrote a description of the storm .

1 th B 9 . Wm . and asil and I walked to the - hill tops , a very cold bleak day . We were met W on our return by a severe hailstorm . illiam 2 n wrote some lines describing a stunted thor .

th W e 2 0 . . Coleridge dined with us went more than half-way home with him in the

b u t . A v evening ery cold evening , clear .

The spring seemingly very little advanced .

0 N green trees , only the hedges are budding ,

and looking very lovely .

’ t W 1 s e . A 2 . drank tea at Coleridge s quiet shower of snow was in the air during

At t u more than half our walk . our re rn

Th e the sky partially shaded with Clouds . S horned moon was set . tartled two night birds from the great elm tree .

1 — S e e A Wbi r l blas t f r om be h i n d th e Hill i n th e P oeti c a l

Wor bs . 2 S e e Th e Th o r n i n th e P oeti c a l Wo r bs .

[ 1 50 ] ’ Dorothy Wo r ds w o r th s Journal d z 2u . I spent the morning in starching , and hanging out li nen walked through the wood in the evening , very cold .

r d 2 . i 3 Coler dge dined with us . He

1 ﬁn i sh e d We brought his ballad . walked w M ’ A ith him to the iner s house . beautiful evening , very starry , the horned moon .

th — ' 2 . r 4 Coleridge , the Cheste s , and Ellen

We Cruikshank called . walked with them

u W t thro gh the wood . en in the even ing into the coomb to get eggs ; r e

n tur ed through the wood , and walked in

P A u the ark . d ller night than last night

S k a sort of white shade over the blue y .

The stars dim . The spring continues to advance very slowly , no green trees , the hedges leaﬂess ; nothing green but the bram bles that still retain their old leaves , the evergreens , and the palms , which indeed are S o b not absolutely green . ome branches I

1 T h i s b a a w as ﬁn i s h e e r uar 1 8 1 8 . ll d d by F b y , 7 9 V I 0 S e e E a r l R ecollectio n s o s e h o t t e o l . . 7 , ( y , by J p C l , , p 3

1 51 Coleridge and Words worth

- served to day budding afresh , and those have

shed their old leaves . The crooked arm of the old oak tree points upwards to the

moon .

’ th W . 2 5 . alked to Coleridge s after tea

’ A Th e rrived at home at one o clock . night

Cloudy but not dark .

2 6th W W . ent to meet edgwood at Cole ’ R ridge s after dinner . eached home at half

past twelve , a ﬁne moonlight night ; half

moon .

’ th P A 2 7 . Dined at oole s . rrived at home

a little after twelve , a partially Cloudy , but light night , very cold .

2 8 th u o u t . H ng the linen .

2 th d u s 9 . Coleridge dine with .

o th W 3 . alked I know not where .

1 s t W 3 . alked .

r il 1 s t W Ap . alked by moonlight .

2 n d A . very high wind . Coleridge came to avoid the smoke stayed all night W e

walked in the wood , and sat under the trees .

Th e d half of the woo perfectly still , while

I I S Z I

Coleridge and Wordsworth up the lesser coomb , with an intention of

t h e going to the source of brook , but the

Th e evening closing in , cold prevented us . S pring still advancing very slowly . The - horse chesnuts budding , and the hedgerows beginning to look green , but nothing fully expanded . 7 th Walk ed before dinner u p the coomb , to the source of the brook , and came home by the tops of the hills ; a

- V showery morning , at the hill tops the iew opened upon us very grand . 8 th E S W . aster unday . alked in the d morning in the woo , and half way to Stowey ; found the air at ﬁrst oppressively warm , afterwards very pleasant . th W S 9 . alked to towey , a ﬁne air in going , but very hot in returning . The sloe in blossom , the hawthorns green , the larches in the park changed from black to green in

M e t r e two or three days . Coleridge in turning .

1 0 th o ut . I was hanging linen in the

[ 1 54 ] ’ Dorothy PV o r ds w o r th s Journal evening . We walked to Holford . I turned ’ o ff to the baker s , and walked beyond Wood lands , expecting to meet William , met him on the hill ; a close warm evening in bloom .

1 1 th i n . In the wood the morning , walked to the top of the hill , then I went

A v down into the wood . pleasant e ening ,

a ﬁne air , the grass in the park becoming

green , many trees green in the dell .

1 2th . Walked in the morning in the

wood . In the evening up the coomb , ﬁne

Th e S walk . pring advances rapidly , multi

- tudes of primroses , dog violets , periwinkles ,

stitchwort .

1 th 3 . Walked in the wood in the morn S ing . In the evening went to towey . I

M r stayed with . Coleridge . Wm . went to

’

P S M r l . oole s . upped with . Co eridge t 1 4 h . Walked in the wood in the morn

Th e s tai e d ing . evening very stormy , so we M ’ within doors . ary Wollstonecraft s life ,

e t c . , came .

[ 1 55 ] 1 th S e t 5 . forward after breakfast to

Crookham , and returned to dinner at three

’

A . o clock . ﬁne cloudy morning Walked

’ about the squire s grounds . Quaint water falls about , around which Nature was very successfully striving to make beautiful what — a r t . . had deformed ruins , hermitages , etc etc

In spite of all these things , the dell

u romantic and bea tiful , though every

u where planted with unnat ralized trees .

u Happily we cannot shape the h ge hills , or carve out the valleys according to our

fancy . th N W 1 6 e w . . moon illiam walked in

the wood in the morning . I neglected to

W e follow him . walked in the park in the

evening .

1 th W 7 . alked in the wood in the morn

ing . In the evening upon the hill . Cow

u slips plentif l .

1 8 th W . n alked in the wood , a ﬁne su ny

r morning , met Coleridge returned f om his ’

. W e brother s He dined with us . drank

I 1 56 I

Coleridge and Wordsworth

2 th 7 . Coleridge breakfasted and drank tea , strolled in the wood in the morning , went with him in the evening through w the wood , after ards walked on the

: - hills the moon , a many coloured sea and sky .

2 8 th S a tur da A , y . very ﬁne morning , warm weather all the week . 1 M a 6th S un da y , y . Expected the painter , A — and Coleridge . rainy morning very

M e t pleasant in the evening . Coleridge as

o u t W we were walking . ent with him to Stowey heard the nightingale saw a glow worm . th W 7 . alked in the wood in the morning . S In the evening , to towey with Coleridge who called . 8 th . Coleridge dined , went in the after S A noon to tea at towey . pleasant walk home . th W 9 . rote to Coleridge .

Wedn es da 1 6 th M a . W y , y Coleridge , illiam , 1 W h . S ut e r .

I 1 58 l and myself set forward to the Cheddar rocks ; B slept at ridgwater . ’ 2 n d Th r 2 u s da . , y . Walked to Cheddar S lept at Cross .

1 I t i s t e 2 2 n d Ma h u s w r i t t e n n h e M . b u t t h i t S , y ,

1 8 w as a T u e s a I f t h e e n t r r e fe r s t o a Th u r s 7 9 , d y . y

da th e d a o f th e mo n th s h o u h a e b e e n w r it t e n 2 t h . y , y ld v 4

W a as t o at e s . D o r o th y o r d s w o r th w as n o t e x c t d

[ 1 59 ] CH APTE R X

THE A N CI E N T M AR I NER A ND S OM E OTH E R POEM S

Y far the most important event , in the lives both of Coleridge and of Words worth towards the close of their residence in S omerset , was what they did during that

an d ever memorable , it may be called

d Alfo x de n episo ical , walk from along the ” - L “ sea coast to ynton . It was episodical , because du ring it was mentally arranged and poetically constructed (altho u gh not written out in its ﬁnal form till long afterwards)

’ Th e A n c ien t Coleridge s greatest poem ,

M a r in er . It should be remembered that the poem

’ is Coleridge s . Wordsworth contributed only a few lines to it ; but the dis e ussions which the two poets had on the

[ 1 6 0 ]

The Ancient M ariner subject— before the remarkable walk of the trio began , during its continuance , and after their return to S omerset— were such that it may legitimately be thought of as a

o m t P j production . oetic friends such as they were do not measure their work , or count up their debt to one another , by the

number of words , sentences , or paragraphs which they respectively contribute to the result . Wordsworth dictated the following to M iss Fenwick In the autumn of 1 7 97

1 th it was on November 3 Coleridge , my

Alfo x de n sister , and myself, started from

pretty late in the afternoon , with a View to L n S Visit y ton , and the Valley of tones near

to it ; and , as our united funds were very

small , we agreed to defray the expense of the tour by writing a poem to be sent to the

w o th l a a z in e A N e M n y M g . ccordingly we

o ff set , and proceeded along the Quantock hills towards Watchet and in the course of this walk was plan n ed the poem of Th e

I 1 6 3 l Coleridge and Wordsworth

A n c ien t M a r in er , founded on a dream , as

M r C r uik Coleridge said , of his friend . M shank . uch the greatest part of the story

’ was Coleridge s invention , but certain parts

I myself suggested for example , some crime was to be committed , which should bring upon the old Navigator— as Coleridge after wards delighted to call him— the spectral per se c u t i o n as a consequence of that crime , and his own wanderings . I had been reading in ’ Sh e lvo c k s Vo a es y g , a day or two before , that while doubling Cape Horn , they frequently saw albatrosses in that latitude , the largest

- n sort of sea fowl , some extending their wi gs S ’ twelve or fourteen feet . uppose , said

‘ I , you represent him as having killed one

d S S e a of these bir s on entering the outh , and that the tutelary spirits of these regions

’ Th e take upon them to avenge the crime . incident was thought ﬁt for the purpose , and adopted accordingly . I also suggested the navigation of the ship by the dead men , but do not recollect that I had anything more to

[ 1 64 ]

Coleridge and Wordsworth h pleasant , and some of t em droll enough recollections . We returned by Dulverton

Alfo x de n Th e A n c ien t M a r in er to . grew and grew till it became too important for

our ﬁrst object , which was limited to our expectation of ﬁve pounds ; and we began to talk of a volume which was to consist ,

M r as . Coleridge has told the world , of poems chieﬂy on natural subjects taken from

b u t common life , looked at , as much as might be , through an imaginative medium .

A Th e I di ot B o Her ccordingly I wrote y ,

E e s a r e Wild We a r e Se ve n Th e Th or n y , , , and some others .

We a r e Se ven To return to , the piece that called forth this note , I composed it

Alfo x de n while walking in the grove at . M y friends will not deem it too trifling to r e late that I composed the last stanza first , W having begun with the last line . hen it was all but finished , I came in and recited ‘ A it to Coleridge and my sister , and said , prefatory stanza must be added , and I [ 1 6 6 ] Th e Ancient M ariner should sit down to our tea-meal with greater

’ pleasure if my task was ﬁnished . I men t i o n e d in substance what I wished to be expressed , and Coleridge immediately threw o ff the stanza thus

A i tt e c h i e ar r o th e r e m l l ld , d b J . I objected to the rhyme ‘ dear brother ’ Jem as being ludicrous ; but we all e n joyed the joke of hitching in our frie n d ’ 1 s James T name , who was familiarly called Jem . He was the brother of the

m e dramatist , and this reminds me of an a e dote which it may be worth while here to n Th e otice . said Jem got a sight of the Ly r ic a l B a ll a ds as it was going through t h e B press at ristol , during which time I

was residing in that city . One evening he

came to me with a grave face and said ,

n Wordsworth , I have see the volume that

you and Coleridge are about to publish . There is one poem in it which I earnestly

entreat you will cancel ; for , if published ,

1 ame s To i n J b . [ 1 6 7 ] Coleridge and Wordsworth

’ it will make you everlastingly ridiculous . I answered that I felt much obliged by the interest h e took in my good name as a

writer , and begged to know what was the

u unfortunate piece he all ded to . He said ,

‘ ’ ’ We a r e Seven It is called . Nay , said I ,

‘ ’ that shall take its chance however , and he

left me in despair .

I have only to add that , in the spring of

1 8 1 r 4 I evisited Goodrich Castle , not having seen that part of the Wye since I met t h e little girl there in It would have given me greater pleasure to have found in the neighbouring hamlet traces of one who

had interested me so much , but that was

un fo r t u n at e l I impossible , as y did not even know her name . The ruin , from its posi

tion and features , is a most impressive object . I could not but deeply regret that its solemnity was impaired by a fantastic n e w castle set up on a projection of the same ridge , as if to show how far modern art c an go in

1 S e e th e o e m We a r e Seven p .

[ 1 6 8 ]

Coleridge and Words worth wind towards the south , with sloping masts - and dipping prow ; the iceberg covered sea ; - the great snow fog over the ocean , dark by day , glimmering white in the moonshine ; the belt of calms with its dreadful rolli n g

‘ ’ swell , and water that like a witch s oils ,

’ burnt green , and blue , and white ; the sea in the tornado ; the gentle weather of the tem E perate seas , and the quiet nglish harbour . L ooking at the shortness of the poem , the range is very great ; while its accuracy of description— not the dull accuracy of mere

i n portraiture , but poet cal accuracy , the thi g itself described but lit up with a glory of feeling , or of association with other things ” is very remarkable .

It is known , from his own testimony , that during his residence at Alfo x de n Words

P eter B e ll worth wrote not only , but part of the ﬁrst book of Th e E x c ur s ion -that section of it which describes the ” a ruined cott g e on a common , where he “ W ” met with The anderer , although the

[ 1 7 9 ] The Ancient M ariner most part of that book had been written at

R ac e do w n Go od e . y B l a h and Ha r ry Gill and the A n e c dote f or Fa th e r s were also

Alfo x de n written at . In the following year William Hazlitt S came on a visit to towey ; and , after hearing

W P e te r B e ll ordsworth read his , he and Coleridge took the same journey that the L former had made with his sister to ynton . “ He wrote : W e passed Dunster on our

t h e right , a small town between brow of a hill and the sea . I remember eyeing it wistfully as it lay below us contrasted with the woody scene around , it looked as clear , as pure , as embrowned and ideal as any land P scape I have seen since , of Gaspar oussin

’ ’ o m e n i c h i n o s We or D . had a long day s march— our feet kept time to the echoes of Coleridge ’ s tongue— through M inehead by B A L the lue nchor , and on to ynton , which

n we did not reach till ear midnight , and where we had some difﬁculty in making a lodgment .

[ 1 7 1 ] Coleridge and Wordsworth

“ Th e View in coming along had been S We plendid . walked for miles and miles on dark brown heaths overlooking the W Channel , with the elsh hills beyond , and at times descended into little sheltered

valleys close by the seaside , with a smug

’ l e r s g face scowling by us , and then had to ascend conical hills with a path winding up

through a coppice to a barren top , like a m ’ onk s shaven crown , from one of which I pointed out to Coleridge ’ s notice the bare masts of a vessel on the very edge of the — d horizon , and within the red orbed isk of - the setting sun , like his own spectre ship in Th e A n c ien t M a r in er At Lynton the character of the coast becomes more marked

and rugged . There is a plac e called the R Valley of ocks , bedded among precipices

overhanging the sea , with rocky caverns

an d beneath , into which the waves dash , where the seagull for ever wheels its scream A ing ﬂight . thunderstorm came on while we were at the inn , and Coleridge ran out

[ 1 7 2 ]

Coleridge and Wordsworth

’ Gessner s D ea th of A be l was to deal W i th th e wanderings of Cain after the murder , and the two poets were to collaborate . Coleridge o ff dashed a prose sketch of his portion , but W m ordsworth did nothing , and the sche e lapsed . “ ’ M r S . almon adds that Coleridge s stay amongst the Q uan to c k s was longer than that W of ordsworth , and he returned to his friend

P 1 8 0 oole in 7 , when he received a visit from

Hi s De Quincey . connection with the dis

’ e W tri t was more fruitful than ordsworth s , for it embraces his best poetry . Not

Th e A n c i e n t M a r in e r only , but the ﬁrst part Ch r is ta be l of was written there . “ Kubla Kh a n was the result of a dream in a lonely farmhouse between Porlock and L - ynton ; the poet , who was in ill health ,

a W having fallen sleep in his Chair . hen he

b e awaked , rapidly penned such lines as he could recollect ; but unhappily he was i n t e r r u t e d p by a visitor , and when again free he found that the dream-poem had slipped

1 74 ] The Ancient M ariner

At R emor s e from his memory . Stowey also - was written , and his ﬁnest blank verse poems , Th e N i h tin a le Fr o s t a t M idn i h t g g and g . This was the ‘ green and silent spot amid the ’ hills where he experienced his Fea r s in S o litude and here the exquisite L o ve was T born . hese are the things by which

as Coleridge is remembered a poet , and ”

their birthplace was the Quantock Hills . ’ ‘ B io r a h ia Coleridge s own words , in the g p L ite r a r ia (chapter abo ut his work in “ the Quantock district are remarkable . I had considered it a defect in Th e Ta s h that throughout the poem the connections

are frequently awkward , and the transitions

abrupt and arbitrary . I sought for a subject that should give equal room and freedom fo r

r e description , incident , and impassioned

ﬂ e c ti o n s M e n S on , Nature , and ociety , yet supply in itself a n atural connection to the S parts , and unity to the whole . uch a subject

i n I conceived myself to have found a stream , traced from its source in the hills among the

[ 1 7 5 ] Coleridge and Wordsworth yellow -red moss and conical glass -shaped tufts of bent , to the ﬁrst break or fall , where its drops became audible , and it begins to form a channel ; thence to the peat and turf barn , itself built of the same dark squares as it sheltered , to the sheepfold , to the

ﬁrst cultivated plot of ground , to the lonely cottage and its bleak garden won from the heath ; to the hamlet , the villages , the market

a n d town , the manufactories , the seaport . M y walks therefore were almost daily on the top of Quantock , and among its sloping W coombs . ith my pencil and memorandum

ma h in s tudie s book in my hand , I was g (as the

artists call them) , and often moulding my

thoughts into verse , with the objects and

imagery immediately before my senses . M any Circumstances , evil and good , inter

t h e vened to prevent the completion of poem ,

h Th e B r o oh w ich was to have been entitled .

Had I ﬁnished the work , it was my purpose in the heat of the moment to have dedicated it to our then committee of public safety as

[ 1 7 6 ]

CHAPTER XI

S O M E R EM I N I S C ENC ES OF 1 7 98 A N D PR E V I OU S Y EA RS BY W I L L I A M HAZ L I TT A N D OT H E R S N the afternoon Coleridge took me to

Alfo x de n . Wordsworth was from home , but his sister kept house , and set

W e before us a frugal repast . had free

’ L r ic a l access to her brother s poems , the y

B a lla ds , which were still in manuscript . I dipt into a few of them with great satis faction , and with the faith of a novice . I slept that n ight in an old r oom with blue

n - ha gings , and covered with the round faced family portraits of the age of Georges I and II ; and from the wooded declivity of the adjoining park that overlooked my win

‘ u dow , at the dawn of day co ld hear the ” h n n loud stag speak . T at mor i g , soon

1 Th e uo t ati o n i s fr o m Be n o n s o n q J . [ 1 7 8 ]

Coleridge and Wordsworth

ma tte r -o - a c tn ess a something corporeal , a f f , a clinging to the palpable (and often to the

h i s petty) in poetry . His genius was not a spirit that descended to him through the

n air . It spra g out of the ground , like a

ﬂower ; or unfolded itself from a green spray ,

ldﬁn c h o . on which the g sang He said , however , if I remember right , that this objection must be conﬁned to his descriptive poems . His philosophical poetry had a grand and comprehensive spirit in it , so that his soul seemed to inhabit the Universe like a palace , and to discover truth by intuition rather than by deduction . The next day Wordsworth arrived from B ’ ristol at Coleridge s cottage . I think I see him now . He answered in some degree

’ to his friend s description of him , but was — more gaunt and Don Quixote like . He was quaintly dressed in a brown fustian jacket and striped pantaloons There was some Of thing a roll , a lounge in his gait , not

P e ter B ell T unlike his own . here was a

1 8 2 Some Reminiscences severe worn presence of thought about his — temples , a ﬁre in his eye as if he saw some thing i n objects more than the outward — appearance an intense high narrow fore 1 e R h ad , a oman nose , Cheeks furrowed by strong purpose and feeling , and a convulsive

a inclination to laughter about the mouth , good deal at variance with the solemn stately

’ Ch an tr e s expression of the rest of his face . y bust wants the marking traits , but he was teazed into making it regular and heavy .

’ 2 Haydon s head of him , introduced into his ‘ E n tr a n c e o Ch r is t in to er us a lem f j , is the most like his drooping weight of thought and

expression . He sat down and talked , very

x l naturally and freely , with a mi ture of C ear

v gushing accents in his oice , a deep guttural

’ 1 M o f arr o n i e s Wo r s w o r th w h o r e a th e S . d , d B F ld

o Wor ds w or th — s ti un ub li s h e d ﬂ w r o t e o n th e L y! f ll p “ I e n t th ro u h th r e e si e o f i t ar ro w o r e h e a . w d , N F d g lar ge maga zi n e s o f h at s i n Par i s b e fo re I c o u ld ﬁn d o n e ar e e n o u h an d e t m s u l i s a mo s t c ut aw a l g g , y y k l l y ” b e h i n d ! 2 Pai n te d i n 1 8 1 5. [ 1 8 3 ] Coleridge and Wordsworth

intonation , and a strong tincture of the

n northern burr , like the crust in wi e . He instantly began to make havoc of the half

of a Cheshire Cheese on the table , and said triumphantly that ‘ his marriage with ex p e ri e n c e had not been so unproductive as ’ M r S . outhey s in teaching him a knowledge

’ of the good things of this life . He had

‘ ’ Ca s tle S ec tr e M n been to see the p , by o k L B ewis , while at ristol , and described it

‘ very well . He said , It ﬁtted the taste of ’ lik e a l o ve W the audience g . ordsworth , - looking out of the low latticed window ,

‘ s its o n th a t said , How beautifully the sun

’ ell o w ba n h y . I thought with what eyes

these poets see Nature ; and , ever after , when I have seen the sunset streaming on

the objects facing it , conceived I had made M r . W a discovery , and thanked ordsworth

a for having m de one for me . “ We went over to Alfo x de n the follow

W S ing day , and ordsworth read us the tory of P eter B ell in the open air ; and the [ 1 84 ]

Coleridge and Wordsworth walking up and down on a straight gravel

walk , or in some spot where the continuity of his verse met with no collateral interrup ”

tions .

Th e n reminisce ces by Hazlitt , in refer

ence to this period, are of much value to — posterity ; and those of Cottle the publisher ‘ L r ic a l B a lla ds— of y are of equal , if not of

n e o ti a greater , interest . His record of the g tions which led to the publication of that vol u me is as follows

A M r i S visit to . Coler dge at towey had

M r been the means of my introduction to . W ordsworth , who read me many of his

L P r yrical ieces , when I pe ceived in them a

peculiar but decided merit . I advised him

to publish them , expressing a belief that they

would be well received . I further said that h e would be at no risk ; that I would give i M him the same sum wh ch I had given r .

M r S Coleridge and . outhey ; and that it would be a gratifying Circumstance to me [ 1 8 6 ] Some Reminiscences — to usher into the world by becoming the — publisher o f the ﬁrst volumes of three such s S W poet as outhey , Coleridge , and ords — worth a distinction that might never again ” occur to a provincial publisher .

1 2 th A 1 8 W On the of pril , 7 9 , ordsworth wrote thus to th e publisher

M Y A R T T L DE CO E , You will be pleased to hear that I have gone on very rapidly adding to my stock of poetry . Do come and let me read it to you , under the

P We m old trees in the ark . have a little ore than two months to stay in this place . Within these few days the season has ad va n c e d with greater rapidity than I ever remember, and the country becoming almost every hour more lovely . God bless you . ff Your a ectionate friend ,

W R SW R T H W . O D O . S oon afterwards Coleridge invited Cottle to see Wordsworth and himself : and on the 9t h of M ay Wordsworth wrote from Alfo xde n : [ 1 8 7 ] Coleridge and Wordsworth

AR T T L We DE CO E , look for you with S a lis bur great impatience . I say nothing of y

n P la i till I see you . I am determined

to ﬁnish it , and equally so that you shall

publish . Y ours sincerely ,

W W W R T H R S . . O D O Then Coleridge wrote to Cottle as follows

M Y A R T T L DE CO E , “ Neither Wordsworth nor myself could have been otherwise than u ncomfort able i f any but yourself had received from ff us our ﬁrst o er of our tragedies , and of the

’ At volume of Wordsworth s poems . the

same time we did not expect that you could ,

with prudence and propriety , advance such a sum as we should wish at the time we

speciﬁed . In short , we both regard the pub

li c at i o n o ur of tragedies as an evil . It is

not impossible but that , in happier times , they may be brought on the stage ; and to throw away this chance for a mere triﬂe

[ 1 8 8 ]

Coleridge and Wordsworth

; night of July , you may have them but remember I now write to you merely as a bookseller , and entreat you , in your answer , to consider yourself only . Wordsworth has been caballed against so i m long and so loudly , that he has found it possible to prevail on the tenant of the Alfo x den estate to let him the house after the

ﬁrst agreement is expired , so he must quit it M at idsummer . Whether we shall be able to procure him a house and furniture near S towey we know not , and yet we must for

th e the hills , and woods , and the streams , and

u d the sea , and the shores wo l break forth

i u s into reproaches aga nst , if we did not strain every n erve to keep their poet among ” them . Cottle added In consequence of their conjoint invita

M r . tion , I spent a week with Coleridge and

M r W Alfo xde n . ordsworth at house ; and

r SS during this time (besides the eading of M .

1 99 Some Reminiscences

Li n m o uth Li n poems) they took me to , and S ton , and the Valley of tones .

At this interview it was determined that the volume would be published under the

L r ic a l Ba ll a ds s ti u title of y , on the terms p lated in a former letter ; that this volume shoul d n o t contain th e poem of S a lis bury

P la in , but only an extract from it ; that it

P eter B ell should not contain the poem of , but consist rather of sundry shorter poems and , for the most part , ofpieces more recently

h ad written . I recommended two volumes , but one was ﬁxed on , and that to be pub li sh e d anonymously . It was to be begun

Th e A n c ie n t M a r i n e r immediately , and with , which poem I h ad brought with me to B ristol .

R e v P. Th e following letter to the . J . Estli n B t , Unitarian minister at ris ol , written by Coleridge at the same time that his — Kubla Kh a n w as composed has a special

[ 1 91 ] Coleridge and Wordsworth interest , in its disclosure of what lay deep within the nature of both of the poets ’ - Coleridge s latent and under working belief,

’ and Wordsworth s reluctance to discuss r e li gi o us matters even with a specially intimate friend if their data were dissimilar Cole ’ ridge s testimony is very memorable , that it ’ “ W r ac ti c e an d was his ( ordsworth s) p , almost his nature , to convey all the truth he knows without any attack on what he supposes f falsehood , if that alsehood be interwoven ” r with virtues or happiness . It dese ves to be written within his biography in letters of h gold , for few men knew better t an he did

when to keep silence , and when to speak R on the arcana of eligion .

M a 1 8 y , 7 9 .

I write from Cross , to which place I

M r W d accompanied . or sworth , who will give you this letter . We visited Cheddar , but his main business was to bring back poor Lloyd . But Lloyd (as we found by a letter that met us on the road) is o ff for I 92

Coleridge and Wordsworth — - — to me except in fate a-tdcc breaks forth in conversational eloquence . “ Believe me with ﬁlial and fraternal friend ship , your grateful ,

S T . L R G . . CO E ID E Two paragraphs from another letter of Coleridge ’ s to Joseph Cottle— written from

S M 8 th 1 8— towey on arch , 7 9 should have had an earlier place chronologically ; but “ they are relevant anywhere : The Giant W — ordsworth God love him . Even when I speak in terms of admiration due to his intellect , I fear lest those terms should keep out of sight the amiableness of his manners . He has written more than 1 2 0 0 lines of blank verse ; superior , I hesitate not to aver , to anything in our language which any P way resembles it . oole (whom I feel so consolidated with myself that I seem to have no occasion to speak of him out of myself) thinks of it as likely to beneﬁt mankind much more than anything Wordsworth h as yet written .

[ 1 94 ] Some Reminiscences

With regard to my poems , I shall preﬁx M a id o Or lea n s 1 0 0 0 the f , lines , and three blank-verse poems— making all three about — z o o and I shall utterly leave out perhaps a

: larger quantity of lines and , I think , it woul d answer you in a pecuniary way to

print the third edition humbly and cheaply . M y alterations on the R e ligio us M us ing s will

be considerable , and will lengthen the poem . S T ” God bless you and . . C . Th e N i h tin a le a Co n ver s a ti on a l P oem g g , A ( pril , is an obscure mirror of the “ ” three people with one soul , as Coleridge

so happily put it .

I am of opinion that , during these proliﬁc ’

years , Wordsworth s inﬂuence over Coleridge

was stronger , and in its results more endur ’

ing , than was Coleridge s over his great

poetic brother . It was not so alert and nimble-witted as Coleridge ’ s was over all with whom he came into contact ; but it

was deeper and more permanent . The rapid assimilative (as well as creative) genius of

[ 1 95 ] Coleridge and Wordsworth

Coleridge seized , and took in with avidity , the earliest touches ofWordsworth ’ s imagina tive insight ; but the latter received , and

b e brooded over what he received , before fully assimilated , or took it in . But everyone who is even remotely familiar t with this literary period , and wi h the Quan S B tock district of outh ritain , must know that Coleridge led in it a tentative and somewhat anxious existence ; notwithstanding his own frequent allusions to happiness . His rare genius was maturing in many and various directions ; b ut as to such urgent practical m in s ta r omn i um atters as his own , and his

’ family s maintenance— while there was no thing to provide for them , either from — himself o r from others the case seemed desperate . It must be owned with sadness that Coleridge had not , at that or at any future time , a real insight into the existing ff state of a airs , or the requisite practical sagacity to cope with it .

[ 1 96 ]

Coleridge and Wordsworth least be able to trace the spring and early

Alfo x de n summer at with you ; and that , - wherever your after residence may be , it is probable that you will be within reach of my tether , lengthened as it now is . The S country round hrewsbury is rather tame . M y imagination has clothed it with all its summer attributes : but I still can see in it the possibility beyond that of be a uty . The S ociety here were sufficiently eager to have me as their minister ; and , I think , would have behaved kindly and respectfully ; but I perceive clearly that without great courage and perseverance in the use of the mono syllable N o I should be plunged in the

ma el s tr om — very of visiting whirled round , — and round , and round never changing yet

n always moving . Visiti g , with all its pomps and vanities , is the mania of the place ; and many of the congregation are

$ 3 both rich and expensive .

1 8 On the 3 oth of January , 7 9 , Coleridge

’ wrote in a great hurry , in Cottle s bookshop I I 98 L ast Days in Somerset “ at Bristol : I received an invitation from S hrewsbury to be the Unitarian minister , and at the same time an order for £ 1 0 0 T from homas and Josiah Wedgwood . I accepted the former , and returned the latter

in a long letter explanatory of my motive , an d o ff S went to hrewsbury , where they were on the point of electing me unani

m o u sl ff y , and with unusual marks of a ection , ff T when I received an o er from . and J . Wedgwood of an annuity of £ 1 50 to be A legally settled on me . stonished , agitated ,

and feeling as I could not help feeling , I ff accepted the o er in the same worthy spirit ,

I hope , in which it was made , and returned S ” from hrewsbury . S hortly afterwards Wordsworth wrote to James Tobin h 6 8 ALFOXD EN M a r c 1 . , , 7 9

— M Y A R T B N I DE O I , have long wished to thank you for your letter and Gus ta vus

V s a Th e n a . tragedy is a strange compositio I 1 99 Coleridge and Wordsworth T of genius and absurdity . here is little need to advise me against publishing : it is a thing which I dread as much as death itself. This may serve as an example of the

ﬁgure by rhetoricians called hyperbole , but privacy and quiet are my delight . No doubt you have heard of the m u n iﬁc e n c e of the W edgwoods towards Coleridge . I hope the

W e fruit will be good , as the seed is noble .

Alfo x de n Th e u leave at midsummer . ho se

C r e w k sh an k S is let to , of towey , so our W departure is decided . hat may be our

n r destination I ca not say . If we can aise

u : the money , we shall make a to r on foot

W n probably through ales , and orthwards . I am at present utterly unable to say where we shall be . We have no particular reason to be attached to the neighbourhood of S towey , but the society of Coleridge and P the friendship of oole . News we have n : n one our occupatio s continue the same , only I rise early in the mornings . I have written 1 3 0 0 lines of a poem in

[ 20 0 ]

Coleridge and Wordsworth from my mind that you may be induced to

We join in the party . have come to a

— M r s resolution Coleridge , . Coleridge , my —o f sister , and myself going into Germany , where we purpose to pass the two en suing

years , in order to acquire the German lan

guage , and to furnish ourselves with a tolerable stock of information in Natural S cience . Our plan is to settle , if possible ,

in a village near a University , in a pleasant

— i f n — a and we c a mountainous country . I t will be desirable that the place should be

as near as may be to Hamburgh , on account W of the expense of travelling . hat do you say to this ? I know that Cecilia Baldwin has gr eat activity and spirit ; may I venture to whisper a wish to her that she would consent to join this little colony ? I have not forgotten your apprehensions from sea sickness : there may be many other obstacles

which I cannot divine . I cannot , however , s uppress wishes which I have so ardently felt I have been tolerably industrious

[ 20 2 ] L ast Days i n Somerset

within the last few weeks . I have written 7 0 6 lines of a poem which I hope to make of considerable utility . Its title will be

‘ Th e R M a n ecluse , or Views of Nature , , and S ociety ff Your a ectionate friend , “ W W R SW R T H . O D O .

A 1 8 In pril , 7 9 , Coleridge wrote to his

R e v ! brother , the . George Coleridge

a n d I love ﬁelds , and woods , moun tains with almost a visionary fondness and “ R e v P E stli n M a : to the . J . . , in y I have now known Wordsworth for a year and

n — I some mo ths , and my admiration might — say my love for his intell e ctual powers h as increased even to this hour and , what is of more importance , he is a tried good man . ”

S T L R G . . . CO E ID E There is both a personal and a literary pathos in the last book of Wordsworth ’ s

P r e l ude , in which he refers to that ﬁnal [ 20 3 ] l l l 779rz lkt t u9rvbh (Sha ernhigpe czrua . 2 season which the two poets spent in their - S much loved omerset retreats . Helped by L C the loyd legacy , the genius of oleridge sprang up , joyous in its work , elastic in its expression , jubilant in its tone , original in its outcome , and even triumphant in its results . They were the very happiest days in his troublous and at times tempestuous life . The Wordsworths left Alfo x de n on the

2 6 th 1 8 of June , 7 9 , and stayed with the S T Coleridges at towey for a week . hence B they travelled on foot to ristol , were the

’ guests of Cottle , the poets publisher , for another week , arranging details as to the

L r ic a l B a ll a ds F B issue of y . rom ristol they S crossed the evern ferry , and walked ten miles to Tintern Abbey on the banks of the

W e da y . The next y they walked along the banks of the river to M onmouth and Good i rich Castle , going back on the follow ng T morning to intern , thence to Chepstow , and from Chepstow by boat back to Ti n

294

Coleridge and Wordsworth B down till I reached ristol . It was pub l i sh e d almost immediately after in the little volume of which so much has been said in ” these notes . It is quite unnecessary for me to char ac te r i z e the poems minutely in this book ; and I wish to refer all who are interested in

M r E them to the detailed estimates by . rnest

M r s S d Coleridge , . an ford , and myself, written elsewhere .

W e When the visit to the y had ended, Wordsworth took rooms in Bristol with his sister to superintend the printing and issue

a s of the Ly r i c a l B ll a d . Coleridge visited — them during that time the latter par t of

A 1 8 ugust , 7 9 . On the 2 7 t h of that month they reached

L n ondo , having passed through Oxford and

B 1 6 S e visited lenheim . On the th of p tember they left Yarmouth for Hamburgh , but what they did in Germany cannot be recorded in this small volume .

[ 20 6 ]

Coleridge and Wordsworth year . Had it been the work of a later period of life , the plot would have been something more complex ; and a greater variety of characters introduced to r e lieve the mind from the pressure of inci M dents so mournful . y care was almost exclusively given to the passions and the

Characters , and the position in which the perso n s in the drama stood relatively to each other , that the reader (for I had then no thought of the stage) might be moved , and to a degree instructed , by lights penetrating

n somewhat into the depths of our ature .

u In this endeavo r I cannot think , upon a

As very late review , that I have failed . to the scene and period of action , little more was required for my purpose than the absence of established law and government , so that the agents might be at liberty to act on their own impulses .

2 A N i h t P iec e . g Composed on the road between Nether Stowey and ” Alfo x de n , extempore .

[ 2 1 0 ] The Fe n wi ch N otes

e a r e 3 . W S e ve n Written at

Alfo x de n 1 8 Th e in the spring of 7 9 . little girl who is the heroine I met within the area of Goodrich Castle in the year

1 7 93 . I composed it while walking in

Alfo x de n the grove at . I composed the last stanza ﬁrst , having begun with the W last line . hen it was all but ﬁnished , I

M r came in and recited it to . Coleridge and ‘ A my sister , and said , prefatory stanza must be added , and I should sit down to our little tea-meal with greater pleasure if my

’ i m m e di task was ﬁnished . Coleridge

o ff ately threw the stanza , thus

A i t t e c h i e ar r o th e r e m l l ld , d b J . I objected to the rhyme ‘ dear brother Jem as being ludicrous but we all enjoyed the joke of hitching i n our friend James T ’ obin s name , who was familiarly calledJem . He was the brother of the dramatist ; and this reminds me of an anecdote which it

1 M uc h o f t h i s n o t e ( al r e ady q uo t e d) d e al t w i th Th e An cie M a r i n e n t r .

[ 2 1 1 ] Coleridge and Wordsworth

Th e may be worth while here to notice . said Jem got sight of the Lyr ic a l B a lla ds as B it was going through the press at ristol . One evening he came to me with a grave ‘ face and said , Wordsworth , I have seen the volume that you and Coleridge are about to T publish . here is one poem in it which I earnestly entreat you will cancel ; for , if published , it will make you everlastingly ’ We a r e S e ven ridiculous . It is called , .

‘ ’ ‘ Nay , said I , that shall take its chance

’ however , and he left me in despair . “ te r a th e r s 4 . A n e c do f o F This

u r Alfo x de n was s ggested in f ont of . The

B M u boy was a son of my friend asil ontag , who had been two or three years u n der K our care . The name ilve is from a B village on the ristol Channel , about a mile

Alfo x de n Li sw n from , and the name of y Farm was taken from a beautiful spot on the

W e M r r y , where . Coleridge , my siste , and I

‘ had been visiting the famous John Thelwall . The visit of this man to Coleridge was

[ 2 1 2 ]

Coleridge and Wordsworth

Go od Bl a h e a n d Ha r r Gill 7 . y y

W Alfo x de n Th e ritten at . incident is

’ ' ’ Z oon omia from Dr . Darwin s . It is founded on a well-authenticated fact which ” happened in Warwickshire .

8 He r E es a r e Wild W . y ritten

Alfo x de n Th e at . subject was reported to B me by a lady of ristol , who had seen the ” poor creature .

Simon L ee th e Old H un ts ma n 9. , This old man h ad been huntsman to

Alfo x de n the squires of , which , at the time we occupied it , belonged to a minor . The old man ’ s cottage stood upon the com mon , a little way from the entrance to

lfo x de n P B u t A ark . it had disappeared . Improvements but rarely appear such to

r e those who , after long intervals of time , visit places they have had much pleasure in . Th e expression when the hounds were

‘ ’ out , I dearly love their voice , was word for m ” word fro his own lips .

1 0 L in es w r itte n in E a r l S r in . y p g

2 1 4 The Fe n wi ch N otes Actually composed while I was sitting by the side of the brook that runs down

c o omb th e from the , in which stands village Alf o x de n . of It was . a chosen resort of T mine . h e brook ran down a sloping

rock , so as to make a waterfall , considerable for that county a n d across the pool below — an r e had fallen a tree ash , if I rightly member— from which rose perpendicularly boughs in search of the light intercepted by

S the deep hade above . The boughs bore

leaves of green , that for want of sunshine had faded into almost lily-white and from the underside of this natural sylvan bridge

u depended long and beautif l tresses of ivy ,

which waved gently in the breeze , that

might , poetically speaking , be called the T breath of the waterfall . his motion varied ,

of course , in proportion to the power of W water in the brook . hen , with dear friends ,

I revisited this spot , after an interval of 1 more than forty years , this interesting 1 M a 1 1 8 1 I t w as o n . y 3 , 4 [ 2 1 5 Coleridge and Wordsworth

To feature of the scene was gone . the owner of the place I could not but regret that the beauty of this retired part of the grounds had not tempted him to make it

more accessible by a path , not broad or f n obtrusive , but su ﬁcie t for persons who love such scenes to creep along without f ” di ﬁculty .

To m Sis ter I I . y Composed in Alfo x de n M front of House . y little boy messenger on this occasion was the son of Basil M ontagu . The larch mentioned in the ﬁrst stanza was standing when I r e visited the place , more than forty years after . I was disappointed that it had not improved in appearance as to size , nor had it acquired anything of the majesty of age which , even though less perhaps than any other tree , the A larch sometimes does . few score yards h from this tree there grew , w en we inhabited

Alfo x de n , one of the most remarkable beech

Th e trees ever seen . ground sloped both

n toward and from it . It was of imme se

[ 2 1 6 ]

Coleridge and Wordsworth It was composed for the volume of Ly r ic a l ” B a lla ds .

1 Th e L a s t th e Fl oc h Pr o 5. of

‘ d uc e d at the same time as Th e Com

’ Th e th e . plaint , and for same purpose

incident occurred in the village of Holford , f ” close by Al o x de n . “ 1 6 Th e I diot B o . y The last

‘ - stanza , The cocks did crow , to whoo , - ’ to whoo , and the sun did shine so cold , was the foundation of the whole The words were repeated to me by my dear friend Thomas Poole ; but I have since heard the

L e t same repeated of other idiots . me add that this long poem was composed in the

Alfo x de n quarry of , almost extempore not a word , I believe , being corrected , although one stanza was omitted . I mention this in gratitude to those happy moments ; for , in truth , I never wrote anything with so

3 , much glee .

1 Th e Old umbe r la n d B e a r 7 . C gg

Observed , and with great beneﬁt to my

[ 2 1 8 ] The Fe n wi ch N otes

own heart , when I was a Child . Written at — R ac e do w n and Alfo x de n in my twenty third

’ y e ar f

1 8 A n ima l Tr a n uil lit a n d D ec a . q y y

If I recollect right , these verses were an overﬂowing from Th e Cumbe r l a n d

[ 2 1 9 ]

Coleridge and Words worth

To c h r r n S h e r n an . 2 Ri a d B i sley ida (J 9, 1 7 95)

To Lo r S n h o an 1 d ta pe (J . 3 ,

To h . . H o r 1 t e Rev W J . t ( 7 95 Ch arity ( 1 7 95 To th e Nigh ti n gale ( 1 7 95 Li n e s c o mp o sed w h ile c li m bi n g th e las t asc e n t o f r o c e Co o m S o me r e s h r e M a B kl y b, s t i ( y , 1 7 95)

Li n e w r e n S h u r to n ar s n e r Br i d s itt at B , a g

w e r S e e m e r 1 i n n s w r to a at , pt b , 7 95, a e r f i le tt e r o m B r sto l .

Th e JE o li an H r c o m o e C e e o n a p , p s d at l v d , S o m r s s h ir e e t e .

To t h e Au h o r o f Po e m o s e h Co e t s , J p ttl , p u bli s h e d a n o n ym o u s ly at B r i s t o l i n S e p m r e 1 . te b , 7 95 Th e S ilve r Th i mble R e ﬂ e c ti o n s o n H avi n g L e ft a Plac e o f R e ti r e m e n t i A e o u s M u s i n . e s u o r o e m R l gi gs d lt y p , w r i e n o n th e Ch r i s m E v e o f 1 tt t as 7 94 . O O n b s e r vi n g a Blo s s o m o n t h e Fi r st o f

e r u r 1 6 . F b a y , 7 9 Co u n t R u mfo r d [ 2 2 2 ] r m n fr o m an u n u i h o m F ag e t, p bl s ed p e

V e r r s t o H o u n ses add e sed J . m e To o ke (J e

S o n n o n r e c n e e r i n fo r m n m e et , eivi g a l tt i g

o f th e r h o f a s o n S e 2 0 bi t ( pt . ,

S o n n e c o m o e o n o u r n e h o m e w ar t, p s d a j y d th e au th o r h avi n g r e c e i ve d i n te llig e n c e o f th i h o f e r a s o n S e . 2 0 b t ( pt , S o n n e t o r e n w h o e h o w I fe t , a F i d ask d lt w h e n th e n u r s e ﬁr st p r e s e n te d my i n fan t t o m e To a Y o u n g Fr i e n d (Ch arl e y Llo yd) o n h i s p r o p o si n g to d o m e sti c ate w i th t h e a u th o r . Co m o e i n 1 p s d 7 96 . S o n n e to Ch r e L o t, a l s l yd To r e n Ch ar e L m w h o h ad d e a F i d ( l s a b) , c l ar e d h i s i n te n ti o n o f w r iti n g n o m o r e p o e tr y On a late Co n n u bial R u pt u r e i n High Life ( 1 7 99)

Th e e n o f N i o n A i s i o n D sti y at s . v Od e o n t h e D e par ti n g Y e ar [ 2 2 3 ] Coleridge and Wordsworth

T h o r o r o f O r o t e . G C 3 9 Rev e ge le idge , tte y M r o n e h r S o w e S o m r S t . N a y , Dev . t e t y, e

M a 2 6 set ( y , ’ On th e Ch ri s te n i n g o f a Frien d s c h ild ( I f e Tran slatio n o a Lati n i n s c riptio n by th e R v . W L o w s i n N h r S o w e P r i s h . . B le et e t y a

Ch u rc h

’ h e o r M o h A r m c fr T F ste t er s Tale . d a ati ag m e n t Th e D u n ge o n

Th e r r A r m n o f Th e e G aves . f ag e t a ’ — S e xt o n s tale ( 1 7 97 1

h i s Li m - r w r P A T e T ee B o e my r iso n . d d re s sed to Ch a rle s Lamb Ku b l a Kh a n Th e Ri me o f th e A n c i e n t M ar i n e r ( 1 7 97 1 7 98 ) S o n n et s attempted i n t h e man n er o f c o n m o r r te p rary w ite s . To S implic ity . On H o a Ruin ed use i n a r o man ti c c o u n t ry ( 1 7 97)

1 mi n r n . a d S u h r 5 Fa e, Fi e, la g te

2 Ch r i s 5 . tab e l Th e c o n c l u s i o n t o par t th e s e c o n d ( 1 8 0 1 1 2 24 1

I n t h e L n es c o m os ed w h le c l mb n th e l t a sc en t o B r c c h l Co o mb S o me r s ets h r e i p i i i g ef f qy , i i n M a 1 t h e w n c c s y, 7 95, follo i g o ur Ah w h at a luxury of l an d sc a p e m e e t s az e P t w e s an d c t s e c e a t o m e My g roud o r , o mor l r , Elm- a w e ﬁe s an d s e c t-b n n s e a s h do d ld , pro p ou di g

— - i s e e s t o t h e v e w th e c as t We s t n s e a e t o C e ve n Th r f r i of o from o up r M r l do , h e e n H s alon g th e n orthe rn l pe s of t M dip ill . A PPENDI X III

POEM S WRI TT EN BY WORD SWORT H CHI EFLY I N SOM ER S ET

I Th e r . B o der e r s ( 1 7 95 an d 2 A N i h Pi . g t e c e

W e ar 3 . e S e ve n

A n e c f 4 . d o te o r Fath er s A Wh — 5. i rl blast fr o m b e h i n d t h e H ill Th e r 6 . Th o n

o o n H r r i 7 . G dy Blake a d a y G ll 8 H e r e s ar e Wil . E d y ,

Si m o n L e e t h e Old H u n m n 9. , ts a

1 0 Li n e w r i e n i n E r S r n . s tt a ly p i g

1 I T o m i e r . y S st

1 2 E x o u i o n an d e . p st lat R ply

1 Th e e u r n e 3 . Tabl s t d 1 Th e Co m ai n o f o r e n I n n Wo m n 4 . pl t a F sak dia a

Th e L o f th e o c 1 5. ast Fl k 1 6 Th e I o B o . di t y Th e Ol Cu m r n e r 1 7 . d be la d B gga 1 A n m r n u i i a n d c 8 . i al T a q ll ty De ay

1 P e r 9. et Bell

[ 2 2 7 ] I n t h e L n es w i tte n a t S h ur to n B a s w h c I s n e a B w at e i n S e t e m b e i r r ( i h r ridg r) , p r 1 I n a n sw e t o a e t t e B st th e w n c c s 7 95, r l r from ri ol, follo i go ur

A n d a k ve T h e s e a -b e e z e an s h r , my lo r mo Through y o n r e ft hou s e

S h u rt o n B a s i s a n an c e n t an d e s e t e s e a t i n B d w at e B a . r i d r d por , ri g r y T h e d raw m s w s t h e I s an s S t e e h o l m an d Fl ath o lm a e t o I n g ho l d of p , llud d h e t e po m .

e L o rd 1 2 2 B ett Fo 1 8 1 Co e rid , 1 , 3 , 4 y y , l g , I 9 I i id e a id art e B o ra h i a Liter ari a 6 8 C o e r , , 4 5, g p , , 9 , l g D v H l y 1 2 1 0 1 0 1 0 , 3 , , 7 II 5 I 7 5 5 , 5 , 5 B or de rer s Th e 1 an d C o e rid e Ern e st Hart e 6 2 , , 5, 3 5 l g , l y, , n ote 6 6 — 0 2 0 8 1 1 8 1 1 1 2 2 1 2 , 3 , 3 7 , 7 7 , 94, 7 7 , , 9, , 3 ,

B o e s W w . L . 1 1 2 0 6 l , , 5 Brid 6 e R v e o r e w ate r ri th e e . , I , 0 , s C o e d , g , g 5 5r l g G Bri sto — , 3 1 , 6 0 2 0 6 l 5 , B ro o e S to fo rd 1 6 C o e rid e S amue T a o r an k , p , 9 l g , l yl , W B r oth er s Th e 8 6 un it fro m .I . an d T . e d , , y g

B r c e ame s 1 2 1 w o o d to 1 —2 0 1 y , J , , 97

B ur ne tt fri e n d o f C o e rid e at A lfo x de n 8 2 , l g , an d S o uth e 1 2 an d h i s b ab -b o 1 0 y, y y , 7

at Bri sto —1 l, 3 5 at C e e do n I 1 0 8 l v , 5, h i s fri e n dsh ip fo r Th o mas

C a e rt R ai s e 2 2 Po e — , y , o 2 8 3 lv l l , 7 C am b e l e s iii 0 1 — fun d o r an i e d b Po o e p l , Dyk , v , 5 , 5 , g z y l 1 1 —1 fo r 0 7 9 , 5 , 54

Carn e ie A n dre w 1 2 an d arde n i n 2 2 g , , 3 g g, 4 , 4 3 , 5 ,

Castle S ectre Th e b M o n 6 9 p , , y k 59. L e w i s 1 8 , 4 at o tti n e n V I I I G g , C a e Pars o n Ca e 1 1 Ha itt o n 1 8 v , v , 9 zl , 5 Ch r i s tabel 1 1 2 2 1 8 th e marri a e o f , 7 , 7 9, , 4 g , 1 5

n ote 1 , 7 4 Ch ar e s M ath e w s l , 4 C e e do n I 1 0 8 , 5, th e o e rt o f 0 8 l v p v y , 5 , 54 , 7 Com lai n t o a Po r I n a p f o di n pre ac h e d i n U n itari an Wo man 1 1 , 8 , 2 1 7 , 2 1 8 Ch a e s 0 1 1 p l , 5 , 54 , 4 C o e rid e C o tta e I n n Th e g g , , ub i sh e d h i s Poe ms in 1 6 l p l 7 9 , 1 1 8 1 6

2 3 9 I ndex

o e rid e at R ac e do w n 6 g , , C o e rid e S ara Mrs . e n r C l , l g , ( H y 6 1 — 3 59 3 2 5 2 2 5 6 1 5 6 2 N e so n C o e rid e 8 , 54 55 l l g ) , 5 at Rat e b ur viii 1 2 z g, 3 59 4 — ’ at S to w e V I I 1 2 1 1 C o e rid e s S to w e c o tta e ao y, , , 5 7 , l g y g — — 2 6 0 2—8 6 ui re d b th e n ati o n 1 0 1 4 5 2 59 7 2 7 3 2 9 9 q y , ,

1 0 1 —8 1 1 — 97 , , 4 1 1 7 2 5

’ i n i te d to b e n itari an Coleri d e s Poeti cal Worbs 1 v U g , I 7 mi n i ste r at S h re w sbur C o tt e o se h 8 y , l , J p , 4 , 49, 54, 1 8 1 6 2 6 6 1 0 8 1 2 9 , 99 1 , 6 , 8 , 9, , 4 ,

w a e d t o L n to n w i th 1 1 n ote 1 8 6— 1 I lk y 5 , 9 , 94 2 H a itt 1 1 — 1 2 0 zl , 7 3 952 4 w a e d t o L n to n w i th Cre w e th e M ar ui s o f 1 2 1 lk y , q , Wo r sw o rth an d h i s s i s te r C re w k sh an k see C rui sh an d , ( k k) — ’ 1 6 0 6 C rui sh an L o rd E mo n t s k k, g w a e d i n to S o me rse t wi th a e n t 8 1 1 0 1 an d lk g , , 5, 44 S o uth e 1 n ote 1 6 2 0 0 y, I , 4,

W o rds w o rth c ri ti c i e d b C rui sh an M rs . 1 0 1 z y, k k, , 5, 4 4 1 0 an d n ote W o rdsw o rth ﬁrst me t, x , D W o rdsw o rth rai se d b p y,

6 I ‘ Dan i sh B o Th e 8 0 549 3 y , , ’ W rdsw o rth s i n ﬂue n c e arwin D r . 6 0 an d note 2 1 o D , , , 4

— a S ir um h r 6 o e r 1 5 8 , p , 7 7 , 9 v , 9 D vy H y a o Ab l Th e 1 an d o n o ro th Wo rdsw o rth De th f e , , 7 3 D y , n ote 1 56 , 7 4 ’ th Wo rdsw o rth s de D esc r ti ve Shetch es 1 0 Do ro y ip , D e uin c e 8 6 s c ri tio n o f 6 Q , 7 7 , 7 , 9 , p , 3 5, 3 y rs S amue Ta 1 C o e rid e M . 4 l g , l y 7 l r see S arah Fri c e r o w de n Pro fe sso r 1 1 6 o ( k ) D , , [ 2 3 1 ] E G

Edw ard V I I i n 1 2 2 e rman W o r sw o rth an d , K g, G y, d E mo n t L o rd 8 1 1 0 C o e rid e ro o se d o i n g , , , 5 l g p p g g

E s c o tt T . H to 0 , . , 8 1 , 2 2

Estli n th e Re v. . P. e ssn e r S o o mo n 1 note , J , 4 5, 54, G , l , 7 3 , 6 0 1 0 1 0 1 S99 9 7 59 4 9 5, 7 4

1 1 — i man ame s 9 4 G ll , J , 4 W h Even i n al An 1 0 o ds mith . S t Barb e 1 g , , G l , H . , I 9 Ex cursi on Th e 6 n ote o o dman A b e rt 1 2 , , 3 , 3 9, G , l , 4 1 0 2 0 1 n o te 5, 7 , o o dri c h C ast e 1 6 8 , 1 6 , 9 G l , 9 Ex ostulati on an d R e l 2 1 p p y , 7

Good B la e an d Harr Gi ll y k y ,

F o s ar viii G l , Fears 272 Soli tude 1 8 2 1 1 , 7 , , 3 o tti n e n iii G g , v Fe n w i c M i ss I s abe a , , 5, G ras me re o e C o tta e at k ll , D v g , 1 2 1 1 7 ,

Fe n w i c n o te s th e 2 0 2 , , 5, 0 7 v W C re s w e th e Re . il i am k ll, l , I 9 — 2 5

Ft i c ke r M rs . , , 54 uilt an or row 6 an d n ote G d S , 8 ,

Fri c e r Edith M rs . S o uth e k , ( y) , 94 8 1 2 6 1 0 8 , , 7 , Gustavus V ase 1 , 99

k r h M s Ft i c e r S a a r . C o e , ( l rid e 8 1 0 1 2 1 g ) , 7 , , , , 5,

6 1 0 1 0 4 52 S3 9 7 , 3 9 5 Ha ifax 1 8 Frost at M idn i h t I 1 , g , 7 , 7 5 l Harri s man a e r o f C o e n t Fr S i r Edw ard 1 2 1 , g y, , v Gard e n T h e atre 6 , 9 [ 2 3 2 ]

L o d Ch ar e s — — 1 M i eh ael 8 6 l y , l , 4 5 7 , 4 9 5 , , M idd e t o n Th o mas Fan s h awe l , , L o d e ac t o C o e rid e 1 2 l y l g y l g , 4 2 0 M o n ta u Bas i 2 1 2 2 2 8 4 g , l, , , , L o s h ame s 2 0 1 — , J , 3

L o ui se Prin c e s s 1 2 2 Mo n ta u Basi un r . 2 1 2 2 , , g , l, j , , , L un ar rai n b o w a 1 2 1 2 8 1 1 0 , , 3 3 9, 3 9 3 , 3 4: , 4 ,

L n to n 1 6 0 1 6 1 1 — 1 2 1 2 2 1 6 y , , 3 , 7 3 , 45, ,

1 1 M e rs T o m 2 2 9 y , , L r i cal B a l lads 1 0 8 6 y , , , 94 ,

1 1 1 1 6 1 6 1 8 4 , , 7 , 7 ,

1 8 6 — 1 2 0 2 0 6 2 1 2 9 , 4 , , ,

N e th e r S to w e see S to w e 2 1 8 y ( y)

N e w M o n t hl M a az i n e Th e L tto n th e Ear o f 1 2 1 y g , , y , l , 1 6 3

N e w to n Mi s s 1 1 8 M , , R W N i c h o s th e e v. i iam l , ll M a M oth e r The 1 8 1 d , , 1 4 2 n ote

M ai d o Or le a n s 1 N i h t i n ale Th e 1 f , 95 g g , , 7 9, 7 5,

M arsh a M rs . o h n see an e ll, J ( J I 9S P o ard N i h t Pi e ce A 2 0 8 ll ) g , , M ath e w s Ch ar e s , l , 4 M ath e w s W i iam 2 2 6 , ll , 4 , 5, , 3 5

M a o h n 8 Ode to Liher t 8 2 y, J , 5 y , M e e tin g o f C o le ridge an d Ode to th e Dep ar ti ng W o rds w o rth th e ﬁrst x 1 , , , 5

— 1 Old Cumh e r lan d B e ar 3 7 gg ,

M e ri c S i r S amue R us h 2 1 8 2 1 y k, l , , 9 ‘ 1 6 Osor zo 6 6 8 — 0 9 , 3 , 4 9, 7 [ 2 34 ] Po rtu a S o uth e i n 8 — g l, y , 4 7 Prelude The 8 an d n ote , , 3 , 3 9 Pan ti so c rac 1 2 8 y, , 4 an d n ote 2 n te 2 0 , 0 1 o , 3 Pe n rith 1 8 , , 3 7 W . Pr o th e ro . 1 2 2 , G , Pete r B ell 8 0 1 1 0 1 1 , , 57 , 7 , 7 ,

Ph ilo s o ph i c al U n de rto n e s o f ” M o de rn Po e tr th e i x uan to c k s th e 0 1 —8 y, , Q , , 7 , 7 , 93 ,

Pi n n e Ch ar e s 2 1 2 — y, , 9, , 3 , 1 0 1 0 6 1 1 1 8 1 2 l 3 , , 4 , 4 n ote 1 6 1 — 1 6 2 1 3 3 , 3 , 74 7 , 9 , 3

Pin n e o h n — 1 8 2 1 y, J , 7 9, ,

Pi x i e s 0 1 , 7 , 7

Poems h S T. C o le r id e y . g ,

secon d edi ti on 8 1 R ac e do w n vii x — 1 , 4 , 4 9, 5 , , , 3 7 , 5,

Po ard an e M rs o h n 1 6 1 8 — 1 6 1 6 2 ll , J ( . J , 4 . 54 , 55, , , M arsh a 1 8 2 1 — 2 0 ll) , 7 , , _ 3 , 94 , 95, 7 — R ac e do w n th e farmh o us e at 2 8 3 2 ,

Po o e M rs . 1 0 l , , 5 Po o e Th o mas 1 2 1 2 R aw n s e C an o n 1 2 1 l , , , 5, 4 l y, , 8 0 2 6 0 —2 6 R ecluse Th e an d n ote 1 6 , 5 , 5 , 54 , , 4 , , , 3 9 , 4

8 6 2—8 6 n ote 2 0 1 n ote 2 0 6 , 9, 7 3 , 9 , 97 , , , 3

1 0 2 1 0 1 0 1 1 1 1 1 2 Re ecti on s on h avi n le t a lace , 3 , 5, , , ﬂ g f p

1 1 ‘ I 1 2 I I o reti r ement 1 4 6 a 4 , 4 S , 4 7 , f , 5

I 1 2 1 I I R e i io us be i e f o f Wo r s 49, 5 , 55, 7 41 94 9 l g l d w o rth 1 2— 2 0 0 , 9 4

Po rtrai t o f W o rdsw o rth b R eli i ous M usi n s 1 1 , y g g , 5 , 95

W S h ute r 1 an d n ote Re morse 1 . , 57 , , 7 5

1 8 Re n an He n rie tta an d E rn e st 5 , ’ Po rtrai ts i n C o e rid e s c o tta e l g g , 1 2 Ri o n th e Bi sh o o f 1 2 2 4 p , p , E2 3 5 J ’ R o bin so n Fo rb e s 2 S o uth e M rs . see Edith , , 1 3 y, (

Rui ned Co tta e Th e 1 6 an d Fric e r g , , 5, 3 k ) n ote S o n C o e ridge an d W o rds , 95 py l w o rth a 8 1 1 2 1 , , 9 , 5, 3 S TOR Y o r T HE IKECOV ER Y o r

T HE COLER I DGE C OT TAG E,

' S t A b n M rs . 8 . y , , 9 THE 1 1 —2 l , 7 5

S t o h n M rs . 1 n ote . , , vii — 2 J 57 S to we , 1 2 , 1 1 , 4 y, 5 7 Sali s h ur Plai n 6 8 1 8 8 1 1 , , , 9 6 — 0 2 6 y 5 , 59 7 , 7 , 9 , 97 , d S a mo n Arth ur L . 0 an l , , 7 1 0 1 ”Off 1 I , 7 , 94 , 95, 7 4

S an dfo rd M rs He n r , . , 3 , y 5 T 6 8 2 0 6 7 , 9 ,

S atire s w ritte n b W o rdsw o rth Tahles Tur ned The 2 1 y , , , 7

— Tas h e 1 2 6 8 h, T , 7 5

’ S eas on s Th e Th o ms o n s 1 Taun to n 0 6 2 1 1 , , , 7 3 , 5 , , 4

Sh e ridan Th e w a o h n 1 8 2 , 4 9 l ll, J , 5, 4 , 5 , S h re ws b ur C o e rid e i n ite d 6 0 6 1 6 —8 1 0 8 2 1 2 y , l g v , , 9 , , to b e n itari an mi n i s te r at Th e ol o i n th e En li sh Po ets U , gy g , 1 8 1 1 6 an d n ot e 1 0 9 , 99 9 , 7 W S h ute r . 1 n ote 1 8 Th o mas Poole an d h i s Fr i e n ds , , 57 , 5 ,

Si mo n Lee th e Old Huntsma n 6 8 1 1 , , 7 , 9 , 5

Th o ms o n ame s 1 n ote , J , 7 3

S mith . H . Eth e ri n to n Th or n Th e 8 0 1 0 n ote 1 6 6 , J g , , , , 5 , ,

1 2 2 1 8 1 2 1 , 3

Soc i et i n th e Coun tr House 8 1 Ti n te rn Abb e 2 0 2 0 6 y y , , y , 5,

8 2 To bi n ame s 1 6 an d n ote , J , 7 ,

S o uth e Ro b e rt —1 1 2 8 1 y, , 5 , , 99 — 8 0 6 To u min th e Re v . o sh ua 1 1 3 5, 7 7 , 4 9 , 9 : l , J , 4 1 0 8 1 1 6 To m Si ster 2 1 6 2 1 , y , , 7 [ 2 3 6 ]

W o rds w o rth Wi i am h is o r Wo rds w o rth Wi i am w a , ll , p , ll , lk trait b W S h ute r 1 to L n to n w ith h i s si ste r y . , 57 y

an d n ote 1 8 an d C o e ri d e 1 6 0 —6 , 5 l g , W at R ac e do w n vu x W o rd sw o r th M rs . i i am , , , 3 7 , , ll 1 1 8 — I 2 0 see M ar ut c h in s o n 5, 4 a 94 9 95, 7 ( y H ) re i i o us b e ie f o f 1 2— Wran h am A rc h de ac o n g , 4 , l l 9 g , ’ s ati re s b 2 6—8 W o rdsw o rth s fri e n d 2 y, , 7 ,

an d h i s s i ste r viii x 2 2 8 , , , 5,

’ S o uth e s rai se o f 8 6 y p ,

at S to w e 1 1 6 6 2 y , 5, , 55, ,

6 2 0 Z oon o mza 2 1 4 , 4 , 4