wide and extended look-out over all the country between Outgate and
Ambleside. Close at its summit there remain aged thorn trees, but no
trace of a wall.
But High Crag can hardly be said to have risen at 'the meeting-point
of two highways,' unless we are to understand the epithet
'far-stretched' as applying to the south-western slopes or skirts of
the hill; and the two highways, the roads between Water Barngates on
the west, and the bridle road between Pullwyke and Outgate at their
Outgate junction, and this is rather too far a stretch.
It is quite true that if bridle paths can be described as highways,
there may be said to be a meeting-point of these close at the
north-eastern side of the crag.
But, remembering that the ponies came from Penrith, the driver was not
likely to have had any intimate knowledge of these bridle paths;
while, at the same time, on that misty day, I much question whether
the boys on the look-out at High Crag could have seen ponies creeping
along between walled roads at so great a distance as half a mile or
more.
And this would seem to have been the problem for them on that day.
I ought in fairness to say that it is not likely that the roads were
then (as to-day) walled up high on either side. To-day, even from the
summit of High Crag, only the head and ears of a pony could be seen as
it passed up the Water Barngates Road; but at the end of last century
many of the roads were only partially walled off from the moorlands
they passed over in the Lake Country.
Still, as I said, High Crag was a point of vantage that the poet, as a
lad, must have often climbed, in this part of the country, if he
wanted to indulge in the delights of panoramic scene.
There is a wall some hundred yards from the summit, on the
south-westerly flank of High Crag; near this--at a point close by, two
large holly trees--the boy might have sheltered himself against the
north-eastern wind, and have got a closer and better view of the road
between Barngates and Outgate, and Randy Pike and Outgate.
Here, too, he could possibly hear the sound of the stream in the
dingle or woody hollow immediately at his feet; but I am far from
content with this as being the spot the poet watched from.
There is again a fourth possible look-out place, to which you will
remember I directed your attention, nearer Randy Pike. The slope,
covered with larches, rises up from the Randy Pike Road to a
precipitous crag which faces north and east.
From this, a grand view of the country between Randy Pike and Pullwyke
is obtained, and if the bridle paths might--as is possible, but
unlikely--be called two highways, then this crag could be spoken of as
rising from the meeting place of the two highways. For the old
Hawkshead Road passed along to the east, within calling distance (say
ninety yards), and a bridle road from Pullwyke, now used chiefly by
the quarrymen, passed within eighty yards to the west; while it is
certain that the brook below, when swollen by winter rains, might be
loud enough to be heard from the copse. This crag is known as Coldwell
or Caudwell Crag, and is situated about half a mile east-south-east of
the High Crag.
It has this much in its favour, that a wall of considerable age crests
its summit, and one can whilst sitting down on a rock close behind it
be sheltered from the north and east, and yet obtain an extensive view
of the subadjacent country. IF it were certain that the ponies when
they got to Pullwyke did not go up towards Water Barngates, and so to
Hawkshead, then there is no crag in the district which would so
thoroughly answer to all the needs of the boys, and to all the points
of description the poet has placed on record.
But it is just this IF that makes me decide on the Pullwyke Crag--the
one first described--as being the actual spot to which, scout-like,
the schoolboys clomb, on that eventful 'eve of their dear holidays;'
while, at the same time, it is my firm conviction that Wordsworth--as
he painted the memories of that event--had also before his mind's eye
the scene as viewed from Coldwell and High Crag."
Ed.
* * * * *
NOTE VI.--COLERIDGE'S LINES TO WORDSWORTH, ON HEARING 'THE PRELUDE'
RECITED BY HIM AT COLEORTON, IN 1806
The following is a copy of a version of these 'Lines', sent by Coleridge
to Sir George Beaumont, at Dunmow, Essex, in January, 1807. The
variations, both in the title and in the text, from that which Coleridge
finally adopted (see p. 129), are interesting in many ways:
LINES
To William Wordsworth: Composed for the greater part on the same night
after the finishing of his recitation of the Poem, in Thirteen Books, on
the growth of his own mind.
O Friend! O Teacher! God's great Gift to me!
Into my Heart have I received that Lay
More than historic, that prophetic Lay
Wherein (high theme by thee first sung aright)
Of the foundations and the building up 5
Of thine own spirit thou hast loved to tell
What _may_ be told, by words revealable:
With heavenly breathings, like the secret soul
Of vernal growth, oft quickening in the heart
Thoughts, that obey no mastery of words, 10
Pure Self-beholdings! Theme as hard as high,
Of Smiles spontaneous and mysterious Fear!
The first born they of Reason and twin birth!
Of tides obedient to external force,
And currents self-determin'd, as might seem, 15
Or by some inner power! Of moments awful,
Now in thy hidden life, and now abroad,
When power stream'd from thee, and thy soul receiv'd
The light reflected, as a light bestow'd!
Of fancies fair, and milder hours of youth, 20
Hybloean murmurs of poetic thought
Industrious in its joy, in vales and glens
Native or outland, Lakes and famous Hills;
Or on the lonely high-road, when the stars
Were rising; or by secret mountain streams, 25
The guides and the companions of thy way!
Of more than Fancy--of the SOCIAL SENSE
Distending, and of Man belov'd as Man,
Where France in all her Towns lay vibrating,
Even as a Bark becalm'd on sultry seas 30
Quivers beneath the voice from Heaven, the burst
Of Heaven's immediate thunder, when no cloud
Is visible, or shadow on the main!
For thou wert there, thy own brows garlanded,
Amid the tremor of a Realm aglow! 35
Amid a mighty nation jubilant!
When from the general Heart of Human Kind
Hope sprang forth, like an armed Deity!
Of that dear Hope afflicted and struck down,
So summon'd homeward; thenceforth calm and sure, 40
As from the Watch-tower of Man's absolute Self,
With light unwaning on her eyes, to look
Far on--herself a Glory to behold,
The Angel of the Vision! Then (last strain)
Of Duty, chosen Laws controlling choice, 45
Action and Joy!--an Orphic Tale indeed,
A Tale divine of high and passionate Thoughts,
To their own Music chaunted!--
A great Bard!
Ere yet the last strain dying awed the air,
With steadfast eyes I saw thee in the choir 50
Of ever-enduring men. The truly Great
Have all one age, and from one visible space
Shed influence: for they, both power and act,
Are permanent, and Time is not with them,
Save as it worketh for them, they in it. 55
Nor less a sacred Roll, than those of old,
And to be plac'd, as they, with gradual fame
Among the Archives of Mankind, thy Work
Makes audible a linked Song of Truth,
Of Truth profound a sweet continuous Song 60
Not learnt, but native, her own natural notes!
Dear shall it be to every human heart,
To me how more than dearest! Me, on whom
Comfort from thee, and utterance of thy Love,
Come with such Heights and Depths of Harmony 65
Such sense of Wings uplifting, that its might
Scatter'd and quell'd me, till my Thoughts became
A bodily Tumult; and thy faithful Hopes,
Thy Hopes of me, dear Friend! by me unfelt!
Were troublous to me, almost as a Voice 70
Familiar once and more than musical;
As a dear Woman's Voice to one cast forth, [A]
A Wanderer with a worn-out heart forlorn,
Mid Strangers pining with untended wounds.
O Friend! too well thou know'st, of what sad years 75
The long suppression had benumbed my soul,
That, even as Life returns upon the Drown'd,
The unusual Joy awoke a throng of Pains--
Keen Pangs of LOVE, awakening, as a Babe,
Turbulent, with an outcry in the Heart! 80
And Fears self-will'd, that shunn'd the eye of Hope,
And Hope, that scarce would know itself from Fear;
Sense of past youth, and manhood come in vain,
And Genius given and Knowledge won in vain;
And all, which I had cull'd in wood-walks wild, 85
And all, which patient Toil had rear'd, and all,
Commune with THEE had open'd out--but Flowers
Strew'd on my Corse, and borne upon my Bier,
In the same Coffin, for the self-same Grave!
That way no more! and ill beseems it me, 90
Who came a Welcomer, in Herald's Guise,
Singing of Glory and Futurity,
To wander back on such unhealthful road
Plucking the Poisons of Self-harm! And ill
Such intertwine beseems triumphal wreaths 95
Strew'd before thy advancing! Thou too, Friend!
Impair thou not the memory of that hour
Of thy Communion with my nobler mind
By pity or grief, already felt too long!
Nor let my words import more blame than needs. 100
The tumult rose and ceas'd: for Peace is nigh
Where Wisdom's voice has found a list'ning Heart.
Amid the howl of more than wintry storms
The Halcyon hears the Voice of vernal Hours,
Already on the wing!
Eve following Eve 105
Dear tranquil Time, when the sweet sense of Home
Is sweetest! Moments, for their own sake hail'd,
And more desired, more precious for thy Song!
In silence listening, like a devout child,
My soul lay passive, by the various strain 110
Driven as in surges now, beneath the stars
With momentary [B] stars of her [C] own birth,
Fair constellated Foam, still darting off
Into the Darkness; now a tranquil Sea,
Outspread and bright, yet swelling to the Moon. 115
And when--O Friend! my Comforter! my [D] Guide!
Strong in thyself and powerful to give strength!--
Thy long sustained Song finally clos'd,
And thy deep voice had ceas'd--yet thou thyself
Wert still before mine eyes, and round us both 120
That happy Vision of beloved Faces--
(All whom, I deepliest love--in one room all!)
Scarce conscious and yet conscious of its close
I sate, my Being blended in one Thought,
(Thought was it? or aspiration? or resolve?) 125
Absorb'd; yet hanging still upon the Sound--
And when I rose, I found myself in Prayer.
S. T. COLERIDGE.
'Jany'. 1807.
* * * * *
FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: Different reading on same MS.:
'To one cast forth, whose Hope had seem'd to die.'
Ed.]
[Footnote B: Compare, as an illustrative note, the descriptive passage
in Satyrane's first Letter in 'Biographia Literaria', beginning, "A
beautiful white cloud of foam," etc.--S.T.C.]
[Footnote C: Different reading on same MS., "'my'."--Ed.]
[Footnote D: Different reading on same MS., "'and'."--Ed.]
In a MS. copy of 'Dejection, An Ode', transcribed for Sir George
Beaumont on the 4th of April 1802--and sent to him, when living with
Lord Lowther at Lowther Hall--there is evidence that the poem was
originally addressed to Wordsworth.
The following lines in this copy can be compared with those finally
adopted:
'O dearest William! in this heartless mood,
To other thoughts by yonder throstle woo'd
All this long eve so balmy and serene
Have I been gazing on the western sky,'
...
'O William, we _receive_ but what we _give_:
And in our life alone does Nature live.'
...
'Yes, dearest William! Yes!
There was a time when though my Path was rough
This Joy within me dallied with distress.'
The MS. copy is described by Coleridge as "imperfect"; and it breaks off
abruptly at the lines:
'Suspends what Nature gave me at my birth
My shaping spirit of Imagination.'
And he continues:
'I am so weary of this doleful poem, that I must leave off....'
Another MS. copy of this poem, amongst the Coleorton papers, is signed
"S. T. Coleridge to William Wordsworth." Ed.
* * * * *
NOTE VII.--GENERAL BEAUPUY
(See pp. 297 and 302, 'The Prelude', book ix.)
Professor Emile Legouis of Lyons--a thorough student, and a very
competent expounder, of our modern English Literature--supplied me, some
years ago, with numerous facts in reference to Wordsworth's friend
General Beaupuy, and his family, from which I extract the following:
'The Prelude' gives us very little precise information about the
republican officer with whom Wordsworth became acquainted in France,
and on whom he bestowed more praise than on almost any other of his
contemporaries. We only gather the following facts:--That his name was
'Beaupuy', that he was quartered at Orleans, with royalist officers,
sometime between November 1791 and the spring of 1792, and that
'He perished fighting, _in supreme command_,
Upon the borders of the unhappy Loire,
For liberty, against deluded men,
His fellow-countrymen....'
Though it seems very easy to identify a general even with such scanty
data, the task is rendered more difficult by two inaccuracies in
Wordsworth's statement, which, however, can be explained and redressed
without much difficulty.
The first inaccuracy is in the spelling of the name, which is
'Beaupuy' and not 'Beaupuis'--a slight mistake considering that
Wordsworth was a foreigner, and, besides, wrote down his friend's name
ten years and perhaps more after losing sight of him. Moreover, the
name of the general who, I think, was meant by Wordsworth, I have
found spelt 'Beaupuy' in one instance, viz. the signature of a letter
of his, as printed in 'Vie et Correspondance de Merlin de Thionville',
publiée par Jean Reynaud, Paris, 1860 (2'e partie p. 241).
The spelling of proper names was not so fixed then as it is nowadays,
and this irregularity is not to be wondered at.
The second inaccuracy consists in stating that General Beaupuy died on
the banks of the Loire during the Vendean war. Indeed, he was
grievously wounded at the Battle of Château-Gonthier, on the 26th of
October 1793, and reported as dead. His soldiers thought he had been
killed, and the rumour must have spread abroad, as it was recorded by
A. Thiers himself in his 'Histoire de la Révolution', and by A.
Challemel in his 'Histoire Musée de la République Française'.
It is no wonder that Wordsworth, who was then in England, and could
only read imperfect accounts of what took place in France, should have
been mistaken too.
No other General Beaupuy is recorded in the history of the Revolution,
so far as I have been able to ascertain. The moral character of the
officer, whose life I shall relate, answers to Wordsworth's
description, and is worthy of his high estimate.
Armand Michel de Bachelier, Chevalier de Beaupuy, was born at
Mussidan, in Perigord, on the 15th of July 1757. He belonged to a
noble family, less proud of its antiquity than of the blood it had
shed for France on many battlefields. On his mother's side (Mlle. de
Villars), he reckoned Montaigne, the celebrated essayist, among his
ancestors. His parents having imbibed the philanthropic ideas of the
time, educated him according to their principles.
He had four brothers, who were all destined to turn republicans and do
good service to the new cause, though their interest certainly lay in
the opposite direction.
...
He was made sub-lieutenant in the regiment of Bassigny (33rd division
of foot) on the 2nd of March 1773, and lieutenant of grenadiers on the
1st of October of the same year.
In 1791 he was first lieutenant in the same regiment. Having sided
with the Revolution, he was appointed commander of a battalion of
national volunteers in the department of Dordogne. I have not found
the exact date of this appointment, but it must have taken place
immediately after his stay at Orléans with Wordsworth.
I have found no further mention of his name till September 1792, when
he is known to have served in the "Armée du Rhin," under General
Custine, and contributed to the taking of Spire.
He took an important part in the taking of Worms, 4th October; of
Mayence (Maenz) 21st October. He was among the garrison of Mayence
when this place was besieged by the Prussians, and obliged to
capitulate after a long and famous siege (from 6th April 1793 to 22nd
July 1793). [A]
During the siege he wrote a journal of all the operations.
Unfortunately, this journal is very short, and purely military. It has
been handed down to us, and is found in the Bibliothèque Nationale of
Paris in the 'Papiers de Merlin de Thionville', n. acq. fr. Nos.
244-252, 8 vol. in-8°. Beaupuy's journal is in the 3rd volume, fol.
213-228.
...
In the Vendean war, the "Mayençais," or soldiers returned from
Mayence, made themselves conspicuous, and bore almost all the brunt of
the campaign. But none of them distinguished himself more than
Beaupuy, then a General of Brigade.
The Mayençais arrived in Vendée at the end of August or beginning of
September 1793. To Beaupuy's skill the victory of Chollet (Oct. 17,
1793) is attributed by Jomini. In this battle he fought hand to hand
with and overcame a Vendean cavalier. He himself had three horses
killed, and had a very narrow escape. On the battlefield he was made
'general of division' by the "Represéntants du peuple." It was after
Chollet that the Vendeans made the memorable crossing of the Loire at
St. Florent.
At Laval and Château-Gonthier (Oct. 26) a terrible defeat was
inflicted on the Republicans, owing to the incapacity of their
commander-in-chief, Léchelle. The whole corps commanded by General
Beaupuy was crushed by a terrible fire, He himself, after withstanding
for two or three hours with 2000 or 3000 men all the attacks of the
royalists, was disabled by a shot, and fell, crying out, "'Laissez-moi
là, et portez à mes grenadiers ma chemise sanglante'." His soldiers
thought he was dead, and then the error was spread, which was repeated
by Wordsworth, Thiers, and Challamel. Wordsworth's mistake is so far
interesting, as it seems to prove that very little or no
correspondence passed between the two friends after they had parted.
Beaupuy, moreover, had too much work upon his hands to give much of
his time to letter-writing.
Though severely wounded, Beaupuy lived on, and less than six weeks
after the battle of Château-Gonthier, he was seen on the ramparts of
Angers, where he required himself to be carried to animate his
soldiers and head the defenders of the place, from which the Vendeans
were driven after a severe contest (Dec. 5 and 6).
On the 22nd of December 1793 he shared in the victory of Savenay with
his celebrated friends, Marceau, Kleber, and Westermann. After this
battle, which put an end to the great Vendean war, he wrote the
following letter to his friend Merlin de Thionville, the celebrated
"représentant du peuple."
"SAVENAY, le 4 Nivôse au 2'e (25 Dec. 73).
"Enfin, enfin, mon cher Merlin, elle n'est plus cette armée royale
ou catholique, comme tu voudras! J'en ai vu, avec tes braves
collegues Prieur et Eurreau, les débris, consistant en 150 cavaliers
battant l'eau dans le marais de Montaire; et comme tu connais ma
veracité tu peux dire avec assurance que les deux combats de Savenay
ont mis fin à la guerre de la nouvelle Vendée et aux chimériques
espérances des royalists.
L'histoire ne vous presente point de combat dont le suites aient été
plus décisives. Ah! mon brave, comme tu aurais joui! quelle attaque!
mais quelle déroute aussi! Il fallait les voir ces soldats de Jesus
et de Louis XVII, se jetant dans les marais ou obligés de se rendre
par 5 ou 600 à la fois; et Langrénière pris et les autres generaux
dispersés et aux abois!
Cette armée, dont tu avais vu les restes de la terrasse de St.
Florent, était redevenue formidable par son recrutement dans les
départements envahis. Je les ai bien vus, bien examinés, j'ai
reconnu même de mes figures de Chollet et de Laval, et à leur
contenance et à leur mine, je l'assure qu'il ne leur manquait du
soldat que l'habit. Des troupes qui ont battu de tels Français
peuvent se flatter ainsi de vainere des peuples assez lâaches pour
se réunir centre un seul et encore pour la cause des rois! Enfin, je
ne sais si je me trompe, mais cette guerre de brigands, de paysans,
sur laquelle on a jeté tant de ridicule, que l'on dédaignait, que
l'on affectait de regarder comme méprisable, m'a toujours paru, pour
la république, la grande partie, et il me semble a present qu'avec
nos autres ennemis, nous ne ferrons plus que peloter.
Adieu, brave montagnard, adieu! Actuellement que cette exécrable
guerre est terminée, que les mânes de nos freres sont satisfaits, je
vais guerir. J'ai obtenu de tes confreres un congé qui finira au
moment où la guerre recommencera.
LE GÉNERAL DE BRIGADE BEAUPUY.
I think I can recognize in this letter some traits of Beaupuy's
character as pointed out by Wordsworth, not excepting the
half-suppressed criticism:
'... somewhat vain he was,
Or seemed so, yet it was not vanity,
But fondness, and a kind of radiant joy
Diffused around him ...'
Passing over numerous military incidents, on the 26th of June 1796
Beaupuy received seven or eight sabre-cuts at Jorich-Wildstadt. But on
the 8th of July he was already back at his post.
He again greatly distinguished himself on the 1st of September 1796 at
Greisenfeld and Langenbruck, where the victory of the French was owing
to a timely attack made by Desaix and himself.
He was one of the generals under Moreau when the latter achieved his
well-known retreat through the Black Forest, begun on the 15th of
September 1796, and during which many battles were fought. In one of
the actions on the banks of the Elz, Beaupuy was killed by a
cannon-ball, while opposing General Latour on the heights of
Malterdingen. His soldiers, who loved him passionately, fought
desperately to avenge his death (Oct. 19, 1796).
One of Beaupuy's colleagues, General Duhem, in his account of the
battle to the Government, thus expressed himself on General Beaupuy:
"Ecrivains patriotes, orateurs chaleureux, je vous propose un noble
sujet, l'éloge du Géneral Beaupuy, de Beaupuy, le Nestor et
l'Achille de notre armée. Vous n'avez pas de récherches à faire;
interrogez le premier soldat de l'armée du Rhin-et-Moselle, ses
larmes exciteront les vôtres. Ecrivez alors ce que est vous en dira,
et vous peindrez le Bayard de la République Française."
Such bombastic style was then common, but what we have seen of Beaupuy
in this sketch shows that he had through his career united Nestor's
prudence [B] with Achilles' bodily courage and Bayard's chivalric
spirit,--to use the language of the time.
General Moreau had Beaupuy's remains transported to Brisach, where a
monument was erected to his memory in 1802, after the peace of
Lunéville.
In short, Beaupuy seems to have always remained worthy of the high
praise bestowed on him by Wordsworth. His name is to be remembered
along with those of the unspotted generals of the first years of the
Revolution--Hoche, Marceau, etc.--before the craving for conquest had
developed, and the love of liberty yielded to a fond admiration of
Bonaparte as it did in the case of Kleber, Desaix, and so many others.
[C]
N. B.--The great influence which Beaupuy exercised at that time on
Wordsworth will be easily understood, if we take into account not only
his real qualities, but also his age. When they met, Wordsworth was
only twenty-one, Beaupuy nearly thirty-five. The grown-up man could
impart much of his knowledge of life, and of the favourite authors of
the time, to a youth fresh from the University--though that youth was
Wordsworth.
EMILE LEGOUIS.
* * * * *
FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT
[Footnote A: His bravery shone forth at Coethen, where he was left alone
in a group of Prussians. He fought with their chief and disarmed him. A
few days after he was named General of Brigade.--8th March 1793.]
[Footnote B: The pacification of Vendée was for a great part owing to
his valour and prudence.]
[Footnote C: Beaupuy is said to have united civic virtues with military
talents. A good son and a good brother, he showed in many a circumstance
that true valour does not exclude humanity, and that the soul can be
both strong and full of feeling.]
These notes (B and C) are taken from 'Biographic Nouvelle de
Contemporains'.