Chapter VII: Part 7

'Speak the word, and, master mine, 55
As we charged on Tilly's[323] line,
And his Walloon[324] lancers,
Smiting through their midst we'll teach
Civil look and decent speech
To these boyish prancers!' 60

'Marvel not, mine ancient friend,
Like beginning, like the end,'
Quoth the Laird of Ury;
'Is the sinful servant more
Than his gracious Lord who bore 65
Bonds and stripes in Jewry?

'Give me joy that in his name
I can bear, with patient frame,
All these vain ones offer;
While for them He suffereth long, 70
Shall I answer wrong with wrong,
Scoffing with the scoffer?

'Happier I, with loss of all,
Hunted, outlawed, held in thrall,
With few friends to greet me, 75
Than when reeve and squire were seen,
Riding out from Aberdeen,
With bared heads to meet me.

'When each goodwife, o'er and o'er,
Blessed me as I passed her door; 80
And the snooded[325] daughter,
Through her casement glancing down,
Smiled on him who bore renown
From red fields of slaughter.

'Hard to feel the stranger's scoff, 85
Hard the old friend's falling off,
Hard to learn forgiving;
But the Lord his own rewards,
And his love with theirs accords,
Warm and fresh and living. 90

'Through this dark and stormy night
Faith beholds a feeble light
Up the blackness streaking;
Knowing God's own time is best,
In a patient hope I rest 95
For the full day-breaking!'

So the Laird of Ury said,
Turning slow his horse's head
Towards the Tolbooth[326] prison,
Where, through iron gates, he heard 100
Poor disciples of the Word
Preach of Christ arisen!

Not in vain, Confessor old,
Unto us the tale is told
Of thy day of trial; 105
Every age on him who strays
From its broad and beaten ways
Pours its seven-fold vial.

Happy he whose inward ear,
Angel comfortings can hear, 110
O'er the rabble's laughter;
And while Hatred's fagots burn,
Glimpses through the smoke discern
Of the good hereafter.

Knowing this, that never yet 115
Share of Truth was vainly set
In the world's wide fallow[327];
After hands shall sow the seed,
After hands from hill and mead
Reap the harvests yellow. 120

Thus, with somewhat of the Seer,
Must the moral pioneer
From the Future borrow;
Clothe the waste with dreams of grain,
And, on midnight's sky of rain, 125
Paint the golden morrow!

BARBARA FRIETCHIE

Up from the meadows rich with corn,
Clear in the cool September morn,

The clustered spires of Frederick stand
Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.

Round about them orchards sweep, 5
Apple and peach tree fruited deep,

Fair as the garden of the Lord
To the eyes of the famished rebel horde,

On that pleasant morn of the early fall
When Lee marched over the mountain-wall; 10

Over the mountains winding down,
Horse and foot, into Frederick town.

Forty flags with their silver stars,
Forty flags with their crimson bars,

Flapped in the morning wind: the sun 15
Of noon looked down, and saw not one.

Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then,
Bowed with her fourscore years and ten;

Bravest of all in Frederick town,
She took up the flag the men hauled down; 20

In her attic window the staff she set,
To show that one heart was loyal yet.

Up the street came the rebel tread,
Stonewall Jackson riding ahead.

Under his slouched hat left and right 25
He glanced; the old flag met his sight.

'Halt!'--the dust-brown ranks stood fast.
'Fire!'--out blazed the rifle-blast.

It shivered the window, pane and sash;
It rent the banner with seam and gash. 30

Quick, as it fell, from the broken staff
Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf.

She leaned far out on the window-sill,
And shook it forth with a royal will.

'Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, 35
But spare your country's flag,' she said.

A shade of sadness, a blush of shame,
Over the face of the leader came;

The nobler nature within him stirred
To life at that woman's deed and word; 40

'Who touches a hair of yon gray head
Dies like a dog! March on!' he said.

All day long through Frederick street
Sounded the tread of marching feet:

All day long that free flag tost 45
Over the heads of the rebel host.

Ever its torn folds rose and fell
On the loyal winds that loved it well;

And through the hill-gaps sunset light
Shone over it with a warm good-night. 50

Barbara Frietchie's work is o'er,
And the Rebel rides on his raids no more.

Honor to her! and let a tear
Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall's bier.

Over Barbara Frietchie's grave, 55
Flag of Freedom and Union, wave!

Peace and order and beauty draw
Round thy symbol of light and law;

And ever the stars above look down
On thy stars below in Frederick town! 60

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES

GRANDMOTHER'S STORY OF BUNKER HILL BATTLE

AS SHE SAW IT FROM THE BELFRY

'Tis like stirring living embers when, at eighty, one remembers
All the achings and the quakings of "the times that
tried men's souls[328];"
When I talk of _Whig_ and _Tory_,[329] when I tell the
_Rebel_ story,
To you the words are ashes, but to me they're burning coals.

I had heard the muskets' rattle of the April running
battle[330]; 5
Lord Percy's hunted soldiers, I can see their red coats still;
But a deadly chill comes o'er me, as the day looms up before me,
When a thousand men lay bleeding on the slopes of Bunker's Hill.

'Twas a peaceful summer's morning, when the first thing
gave us warning.
Was the booming of the cannon from the river and the shore: 10
"Child," says grandma, "what's the matter, what is all
this noise and clatter?
Have those scalping Indian devils come to murder us once more?"

Poor old soul! my sides were shaking in the midst of all my
quaking,
To hear her talk of Indians when the guns began to roar:
She had seen the burning village, and the slaughter and
the pillage, 15
When the Mohawks[331] killed her father with their bullets
through his door.

Then I said, "Now, dear old granny, don't you fret and worry any,
For I'll soon come back and tell you whether this is work or
play;
There can't be mischief in it, so I won't be gone a minute"--
For a minute then I started. I was gone the livelong day. 20

No time for bodice-lacing or for looking-glass grimacing;
Down my hair went as I hurried, tumbling half-way to my heels;
God forbid your ever knowing, when there's blood around her
flowing,
How the lonely, helpless daughter of a quiet household feels!

In the street I heard a thumping; and I knew it was the
stumping 25
Of the Corporal, our old neighbor, on the wooden leg he wore,
With a knot of women round him,--it was lucky I had found him,
So I followed with the others, and the Corporal marched before.

They were making for the steeple,--the old soldier and his
people;
The pigeons circled round us as we climbed the creaking stair, 30
Just across the narrow river--Oh, so close it made me shiver!--
Stood a fortress on the hill-top that but yesterday was bare.

Not slow our eyes to find it; well we knew who stood behind it,
Though the earthwork hid them from us, and the stubborn walls
were dumb:
Here were sister, wife, and mother, looking wild upon each
other, 35
And their lips were white with terror as they said,
THE HOUR HAS COME!

The morning slowly wasted, not a morsel had we tasted,
And our heads were almost splitting with the cannons' deafening
thrill,
When a figure tall and stately round the rampart strode sedately;
It was PRESCOTT, one since told me; he commanded on
the hill. 40

Every woman's heart grew bigger when we saw his manly figure,
With the banyan[332] buckled round it, standing up so straight
and tall;
Like a gentleman of leisure who is strolling out for pleasure,
Through the storm of shells and cannon-shot he walked around
the wall.

At eleven the streets were swarming, for the red-coats'
ranks were forming; 45
At noon in marching order they were moving to the piers;
How the bayonets gleamed and glistened, as we looked far down,
and listened
To the trampling and the drum-beat of the belted grenadiers!

At length the men have started, with a cheer (it seemed
faint-hearted),
In their scarlet regimentals, with their knapsacks on
their backs, 50
And the reddening, rippling water, as after a sea-fight's
slaughter,
Round the barges gliding onward blushed like blood along their
tracks.

So they crossed to the other border, and again they formed in
order;
And the boats came back for soldiers, came for soldiers,
soldiers still:
The time seemed everlasting to us women faint and fasting,-- 55
At last they're moving, marching, marching proudly up the hill.

We can see the bright steel glancing all along the lines
advancing--
Now the front rank fires a volley--they have thrown away their
shot;
For behind their earthwork lying, all the balls above them
flying,
Our people need not hurry; so they wait and answer not. 60

Then the Corporal, our old cripple (he would swear sometimes
and tipple),--
He had heard the bullets whistle (in the old French war)
before,--
Calls out in words of jeering, just as if they all were
hearing,--
And his wooden leg thumps fiercely on the dusty belfry floor:--

"Oh! fire away, ye villains, and earn King George's shillin's, 65
But ye'll waste a ton of powder afore a 'rebel' falls;
You may bang the dirt and welcome, they're as safe as
Dan'l Malcolm[333]
Ten foot beneath the gravestone that you've splintered with
your balls!"

In the hush of expectation, in the awe and trepidation
Of the dread approaching moment, we are well-nigh breathless
all; 70
Though the rotten bars are failing on the rickety belfry railing,
We are crowding up against them like the waves against a wall.

Just a glimpse (the air is clearer), they are nearer,--nearer,
--nearer,
When a flash--a curling smoke-wreath--then a crash--the steeple
shakes--
The deadly truce is ended; the tempest's shroud is rended; 75
Like a morning mist is gathered, like a thunder-cloud it breaks!

O the sight our eyes discover as the blue-black smoke blows over!
The red-coats stretched in windrows as a mower rakes his hay;
Here a scarlet heap is lying, there a headlong crowd is flying
Like a billow that has broken and is shivered into spray. 80

Then we cried, "The troops are routed! they are beat--it
can't be doubted!
God be thanked, the fight is over!"--Ah! the grim old soldier's
smile!
"Tell us, tell us why you look so?" (we could hardly speak we
shook so),--
"Are they beaten? _Are_ they beaten? ARE they
beaten?"--"Wait a while."

O the trembling and the terror! for too soon we saw our error: 85
They are baffled, not defeated; we have driven them back in vain;
And the columns that were scattered, round the colors that
were tattered,
Toward the sullen silent fortress turn their belted breasts again.

All at once, as we were gazing, lo! the roofs of Charlestown
blazing!
They have fired the harmless village; in an hour it will be
down! 90
The Lord in Heaven confound them, rain his fire and
brimstone round them,--
The robbing, murdering red-coats, that would burn a peaceful town!

They are marching, stern and solemn; we can see each massive
column
As they near the naked earth-mound with the slanting walls
so steep.
Have our soldiers got faint-hearted, and in noiseless
haste departed? 95
Are they panic-struck and helpless? Are they palsied or asleep?

Now! the walls they're almost under! scarce a rod the foes
asunder!
Not a firelock flashed against them! up the earthwork they will
swarm!
But the words have scarce been spoken when the ominous calm is
broken,
And a bellowing crash has emptied all the vengeance
of the storm! 100

So again, with murderous slaughter, pelted backwards to the
water,
Fly Pigot's running heroes and the frightened braves of Howe;
And we shout, "At last they're done for, it's their
barges they have run for:
They are beaten, beaten, beaten; and the battle's over now!"

And we looked, poor timid creatures, on the rough old
soldier's features, 105
Our lips afraid to question, but he knew what we would ask:
"Not sure," he said; "keep quiet,--once more, I guess, they'll
try it--
Here's damnation to the cut-throats!" then he handed me his flask,

Saying, "Gal, you're looking shaky; have a drop of Old Jamaiky;
I'm afeared there'll be more trouble afore the job is done;" 110
So I took one scorching swallow; dreadful faint I felt and
hollow,
Standing there from early morning when the firing was begun.

All through those hours of trial I had watched a calm clock dial,
As the hands kept creeping, creeping,--they were creeping round
to four,
When the old man said, "They're forming with their bayonets
fixed for storming: 115
It's the death-grip that's a-coming,--they will try the works
once more."

With brazen trumpets blaring, the flames behind them glaring,
The deadly wall before them, in close array they come;
Still onward, upward toiling, like a dragon's fold uncoiling,--
Like the rattlesnake's shrill warning the reverberating drum! 120

Over heaps all torn and gory--shall I tell the fearful story,
How they surged above the breastwork, as a sea breaks over a deck;
How, driven, yet scarce defeated, our worn-out men retreated,
With their powder-horns all emptied, like the swimmers from
a wreck?

It has all been told and painted; as for me, they say I
fainted, 125
And the wooden-legged old Corporal stumped with me down the
stair:
When I woke from dreams affrighted the evening lamps were
lighted,--
On the floor a youth was lying; his bleeding breast was bare.

And I heard through all the flurry, "Send for Warren! hurry!
hurry!
Tell him here's a soldier bleeding, and he'll come and dress
his wound!" 130
Ah, we knew not till the morrow told its tale of death and
sorrow,
How the starlight found him stiffened on the dark and
bloody ground.

Who the youth was, what his name was, where the place from
which he came was,
Who had brought him from the battle, and had left him at
our door,
He could not speak to tell us; but 'twas one of our
brave fellows, 135
As the homespun plainly showed us which the dying soldier wore.

For they all thought he was dying, as they gathered round him
crying,--
And they said, "Oh, how they'll miss him!" and,
"What _will_ his mother do?"
Then, his eyelids just unclosing like a child's that has been
dozing,
He faintly murmured, "Mother!"--and--I saw his eyes were
blue. 140

--"Why, grandma, how you're winking!"--Ah, my child, it sets
me thinking
Of a story not like this one. Well, he somehow lived along;
So we came to know each other, and I nursed him like a--mother,
Till at last he stood before me, tall, and rosy-cheeked,
and strong.

And we sometimes walked together in the pleasant
summer weather; 145
--"Please to tell us what his name was?"--Just your own,
my little dear.
There's his picture Copley[334] painted: we became so well
acquainted,
That,--in short, that's why I'm grandma, and you children are
all here!"

NOTES

WILLIAM COWPER

William Cowper was born at Great Berkhamstead, Hertfordshire, England, in 1731. He was educated first at a private school and afterwards at Westminster in London. He studied law, but his progress in the profession was blocked because of an attack of insanity brought on in 1763 by nervousness over an oral examination for a clerkship in the House of Commons. After fifteen months he recovered and went to live at Huntingdon, where he met the Unwin family and began what was to be a lifelong friendship with Mrs. Unwin. Upon Mr. Unwin's death in 1767, Cowper moved with Mrs. Unwin to Olney, passing a secluded life there until 1786. In 1773 he suffered a second attack of melancholia, which lasted sixteen months. Soon after his recovery he coöperated with the Rev. John Newton in writing the well-known _Olney Hymns_ (1779). In 1782 he published his first volume of poems, and a second volume followed in 1785, containing _The Task_, _Tirocinium_, and the ballad of _John Gilpin_. A translation of Homer was completed in 1791. After 1791 his reason became hopelessly deranged, and he passed the time until his death in 1800 in utter misery.

Cowper was a man of kind and gentle character, a lover of nature in her milder aspects, and especially fond of animals. As one of the forerunners of the so-called Romantic movement in English poetry, his name is significant. Though at his best in work of a descriptive or satiric kind, he was also gifted with a subtle humor which appears frequently in many short tales and ballads. A good biography of Cowper is that by Goldwin Smith in the English Men of Letters Series.

THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN (Page 1)

The story of John Gilpin was told to Cowper by his friend, Lady Austen, who had heard it when a child. The poet, upon whom the tale made a deep impression, eventually turned it into this ballad, which was first published anonymously in the _Public Advertiser_ for November 14, 1782. It became popular at once, and is to-day probably the most widely known of the author's works. It is written in the conventional ballad metre, and preserves many expressions characteristic of the primitive English ballad style.

[1] 3. =Eke=; also.

[2] 11. =Edmonton= is a suburb a few miles directly north of London.

[3] 16. =After we.= John Gilpin's wife does not hesitate to sacrifice grammar for the sake of rime.

[4] 23. =Calender=; one who operates a calender, a machine for giving cloth or paper a smooth, glossy surface.

[5] 39. =Agog=; eager.

[6] 44. =Cheapside= was one of the most important of the old London streets.

[7] 49. The =saddletree= is the frame of the saddle.

[8] 115. =Carries weight.= The bottles seem to resemble the weights carried in horse races by the jockeys.

[9] 133. =Islington=, now part of London, was then one of its suburbs.

[10] 152. =Ware= is a town about fifteen miles north of London.

[11] 178. =Pin=; mood.

[12] 222. =Amain=; at full speed.

[13] 236. =The hue and cry=; a term used to describe the rousing of the people in pursuit of a rogue.

ROBERT BURNS

Robert Burns was born of peasant parentage near Ayr, Scotland, on January 25, 1759. Up to the time when he was twenty-five years old he lived and worked on his father's farm, except for two short absences in near-by towns. While he was very young, he formed bad habits, from which he could never free himself, and which eventually wrecked his career. He was frequently in love, and many of the resulting entanglements brought him little but sorrow. In 1786, as a result of an unfortunate affair with Jean Armour, he determined to sail for America, and in order to raise the necessary money, published a volume of poems for which he was paid twenty pounds. The book was received with enthusiasm and so elated Burns with his success, that he decided to remain in Scotland. He accepted an invitation to Edinburgh, where he was entertained royally by literary circles. However, he was compelled to return to farming, and after marrying Jean Armour took a tenancy at Ellisland in 1788. A little later he was appointed exciseman, but his convivial tendencies were undermining his health, and he found his duties hard to attend to. He moved to Dumfries, where he died in poverty in 1796.

Burns as a writer of songs, especially of love lyrics, is unsurpassed. He touched the depths of human passion as few have ever done, and has made his poetry live in the hearts of the people. He is also the poet of Scottish peasant life, the enemy of oppression and tyranny, and the supporter of patriotism. Failure though he was from a worldly point of view, he was more unfortunate than culpable, and deserves our pity rather than our censure.

Carlyle's _Essay on Burns_ gives an excellent idea of the character and work of the poet.

TAM O'SHANTER (Page 11)

Written in 1790 in a single day and first published in 1791 as a contribution to Grose's _Antiquities of Scotland_, it has been called "a masterpiece of Scottish character, Scottish humor, Scottish witch-lore, and Scottish imagination." Burns himself considered it to be his finest poem.

[14] 1. =Chapman billies=; pedlar fellows.

[15] 2. =Drouthy=; thirsty.

[16] 4. =Tak the gate=; take the road.

[17] 5. =Nappy=; liquor.

[18] 6. =Fou=; tipsy.

[19] 6. =Unco=; very.

[20] 8. =Slaps=; gates in fences.

[21] 14. =Frae=; from.

[22] 14. =Ayr=; a town in Ayrshire, Scotland, on the west coast about thirty miles south of Glasgow. Near it is the birthplace of Burns.

[23] 19. =Skellum=; ne'er-do-well.

[24] 20. =Blethering=; talking nonsense.

[25] 20. =Blellum=; babbler.

[26] 23. =Ilka=; every.

[27] 23. =Melder=; corn or grain sent to the mill to be ground.

[28] 25. =Ca'd=; driven.

[29] 30. =Doon=; a river near Ayr immortalized in Burns's song, "Ye banks and braes of bonny Doon."

[30] 31. =Warlocks=; wizards.

[31] 31. =Mirk=; dark.

[32] 32. =Alloway=; a small town near Ayr, Scotland.

[33] 32. =Kirk=; church.

[34] 33. =Gars me greet=; makes me weep.

[35] 38. =Planted=; fixed.

[36] 39. =Ingle=; fireside.

[37] 40. =Reaming swats=; foaming new ale.

[38] 41. =Souter=; shoemaker.

[39] 68. =Maun=; must.

[40] 78. =The Deil=; the Devil.

[41] 81. =Skelpit=; hurried.

[42] 81. =Dub=; puddle.

[43] 86. =Bogles=; bogies or goblins.

[44] 88. =Houlets=; owls.

[45] 90. =Smoored=; smothered.

[46] 91. =Birks=; birches.

[47] 91. =Meikle stane=; huge stone.

[48] 93. =Whins=; furze bushes.

[49] 93. =Cairn=; pile of stones.

[50] 94. =Bairn=; child.

[51] 102. =Bleeze=; blaze.

[52] 103. =Bore=; hole.

[53] 105. =John Barleycorn=; a Scotch term for whiskey.

[54] 108. =Usquebae=; whiskey.

[55] 110. =Boddle=; farthing.

[56] 116. =Brent=; brought.

[57] 117. =Strathspeys.= The strathspey was a Scottish dance.

[58] 119. =Winnock-bunker=; window-seat.

[59] 121. =Towzie tyke=; shaggy dog.

[60] 123. =Gart them skirl=; made them shriek.

[61] 124. =Dirl=; ring.

[62] 127. =Cantrip slight=; magic charm.

[63] 134. =Gab=; throat.

[64] 147. =Cleekit=; took hold.

[65] 148. =Carlin=; witch.

[66] 149. =Coost her duddies=; threw off her clothes.

[67] 150. =Linket=; tripped.

[68] 150. =Sark=; shirt.

[69] 151. =Queans=; young women.

[70] 153. =Creeshie flannen=; greasy flannel.

[71] 154. =Seventeen-hunder linen=; fine linen. Technical weaving terms were familiar to the hand-loom workers of Burns's district.

[72] 157. =Hurdies=; hips.

[73] 158. =Burdies=; maidens.

[74] 159. =Beldams=; hags.

[75] 160. =Rigwoodie=; ancient.

[76] 160. =Spean=; wean.

[77] 161. =Crummock=; a short staff.

[78] 163. =Brawlie=; perfectly.

[79] 164. =Walie=; large.

[80] 165. =Core=; corps.

[81] 169. =Bear=; barley.

[82] 171. =Cutty-sark=; short shirt.

[83] 171. =Paisley harn=; a coarse cloth, made in Paisley, a Scotch town famous for its cloth-making industry.

[84] 174. =Vauntie=; proud.

[85] 176. =Coft=; bought.

[86] 181. =Lap and flang=; leapt and capered.

[87] 184. =E'en=; eyes.

[88] 185. =Fidged fu' fain=; fidgeted with eagerness.

[89] 186. =Hotched=; jerked his arm while playing the bagpipe.

[90] 187. =Syne=; then.

[91] 188. =Tint=; lost.

[92] 193. =Fyke=; fret.

[93] 194. =Byke=; hive.

[94] 200. =Eldritch=; unearthly.

[95] 201. =Fairin'=; reward.

[96] 208. According to an old superstition, witches are unable to pursue their victims over running water. Compare the story of the Headless Horseman in Irving's _The Legend of Sleepy Hollow_.

[97] 213. =Ettle=; aim.

WALTER SCOTT

Walter Scott was born in Edinburgh, Scotland, in 1771, of an old Border family. Up to the age of four he was rather feeble, an attack of fever having left him with a shrunken right leg. This disability, though it did not prevent his becoming a strong, sturdy man, still gave him ample leisure for wide reading while he was young. In high school and at the University of Edinburgh he was not known as a scholar, though he was popular with his companions, especially as a storyteller. In obedience to his father's wishes he took up law and toiled unenthusiastically at this profession for some years. Some trips of his into the Scotch Highlands led him to make a collection of old ballads, published in _Border Minstrelsy_ (1802). From this time on he devoted himself exclusively to literature. His first important original poem, _The Lay of the Last Minstrel_, came out in 1805, followed by _Marmion_ (1808), _The Lady of the Lake_ (1810), _The Vision of Don Roderick_ (1811), and others of less merit. He had about this time become a silent partner in the printing firm of Ballantyne Brothers, contributing largely to the capital. In 1812 he purchased a farm on the river Tweed and built the famous house Abbotsford. The estate was an unprofitable investment, as it led him into extravagances apparently justified by an increasing income but really based on a false optimism.

In 1814 Scott wrote _Waverley_, the first of the long series of novels which made him distinguished as a prose-writer. From this time on his major work was in prose. He recognized without envy that Byron was beating him on his own ground in poetry, and accordingly changed to a field where success was surer. He was apparently prospering financially when, in 1827, the firm of which he was a member went into bankruptcy, largely because of poor business management, and he was left shouldered with a debt of about $600,000. Undaunted he set to work at the age of fifty-five to satisfy his creditors, and book after book poured from his pen until in four years he had paid off $270,000. The effort, however, was too much for his health; he broke down, and, after a short visit to Italy, died at Abbotsford in 1832.

Scott's character was almost wholly admirable. He was manly, courageous, faithful, and generous. Always popular, he was a lavish entertainer in his prosperous days. He did his work cheerfully and bore up without complaint against misfortune and suffering such as few men are called upon to endure.

As a poet he was fluent, vigorous, and spirited, but usually paid little attention to form and polish. He made no effort to become a careful writer; but this is sometimes compensated for by a certain robustness which most of his verses possess. His poetical genius is best shown in narrative, where the movement is rapid and the action full of exciting moments. If his poems lack intense passion and deep meditation, they are at least picturesque and interesting.

J. G. Lockhart, Scott's son-in-law, is the author of the most complete biography. A good shorter life is that by R. H. Hutton in the English Men of Letters Series.

LOCHINVAR (Page 19)

Published first in _Marmion_ (1808) as "Lady Heron's Song."

[98] 2. =Border=; the country on the border between England and Scotland, a region of warfare and strife for many centuries.

[99] 8. The =Esk= River is in southwest Scotland, and flows into Solway Firth.

[100] 32. =Galliard=; a lively dance of the period.

[101] 41. =Scaur=; a steep bank of rock.

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

William Wordsworth was born in 1770 at Cockermouth on the borders of the beautiful English lake country. During a boyhood spent largely out of doors, rowing, walking, and skating, he imbibed a love for nature which had a broader manifestation in his later life and poetry. After a short period at Hawkshead School, he entered St. John's College, Cambridge, where he took a degree in 1791. He then resided for a time in France; but was driven from there in 1793 by the Reign of Terror, and passed a few years in a rather idle way in the vicinity of London. His real poetic awakening came in 1797, when he and Coleridge lived near each other at Alfoxden among the Quantock Hills in Somerset. Here, in 1798, the two young men published _Lyrical Ballads_, a collection of poems written for the most part by Wordsworth, though Coleridge contributed _The Rime of the Ancient Mariner_ and a few others. This book, especially in its treatment of nature, was a reaction against the stilted formalism which had characterized much of the English poetry of the eighteenth century, and as such it was the real stimulus for the revival of Romanticism which followed its appearance. After a year in Germany with his sister Dorothy, Wordsworth returned to the lake region now associated with his name, living at Grasmere until 1813, and after that at Rydal Mount. He married his cousin, Mary Hutchinson, in 1802. Among his later important works were _The Prelude_ (1805), _The Excursion_ (1814), and many shorter poems and sonnets. He was made poet-laureate in 1843, and died seven years after in 1850.

Wordsworth, though a radical in his youth, became more conservative in later years. He was a man of quiet tastes, and deliberately chose to live where he could be among simple people. As a poet, he was first of all an interpreter of nature, endowed with extraordinary keenness of observation and delighting in all her phases. In humanity, too, he had a sympathetic interest, especially in the everyday emotions and occupations of the plain men and women around him. And influencing his attitude toward both nature and humanity was a sort of religious mysticism which conceived the spirit of God as permeating all things, flowers and trees as well as the human heart.

MICHAEL (Page 21)

Written in 1800 and published in the same year. Wordsworth's own note on the poem is as follows: "Written at Town-end, Grasmere, about the same time as 'The Brothers.' The Sheepfold, on which so much of the poem turns, remains, or rather the ruins of it. The character and circumstances of Luke were taken from a family to whom had belonged, many years before, the house we lived in at Town-end, along with some fields and woodlands on the eastern shore of Grasmere. The name of the Evening Star was not in fact given to this house, but to another on the same side of the valley, more to the north."

[102] 2. =Greenhead Ghyll=; a ravine near Grasmere.

[103] 134. =Easedale=; a small lake near Grasmere.

LUCY GRAY; OR, SOLITUDE (Page 36)

Written in 1799 and published first in 1800. Wordsworth says of it: "Written at Goslar in Germany. It was founded on a circumstance told me by my Sister, of a little girl, who, not far from Halifax, in Yorkshire, was bewildered in a snowstorm. Her footsteps were traced by her parents to the middle of the lock of a canal, and no other vestige of her, backward or forward, could be traced. The body, however, was found in the canal."

THOMAS CAMPBELL

Thomas Campbell was born at Glasgow, Scotland, July 27, 1777. He was educated at the University of Glasgow, where he made somewhat of a reputation as a versifier and translator. After some desultory attempts at tutoring, he published in 1799, _The Pleasures of Hope_, a long didactic poem which brought him real fame and a considerable financial reward. Soon after he travelled on the continent, where many of his war ballads were written. In his later days he was a figure in literary circles and was given a pension by the crown. He died in 1844 and was buried in Westminster Abbey.

Much of Campbell's longer poetic work is dull and unequal. However, in his own field of the vigorous patriotic ballad, he is without a rival. Saintsbury says of him, "He holds the place of best singer of war in a race and language which are those of the best singers, and not the worst fighters, in the history of the world."

HOHENLINDEN (Page 39)

Written in 1800, after the author had visited the battlefield.

In the battle of Hohenlinden (December 3, 1800), the French under General Moreau defeated the Austrians and compelled the Austrian Emperor to sue for peace. The treaty of Luneville, which followed, extended French territory to the Rhine.

[104] 4. The =Iser= is a river rising in northern Switzerland and flowing into the Danube.

BATTLE OF THE BALTIC (Page 40)

Written in 1809.

The battle of the Baltic took place in the Baltic Sea before Copenhagen, April 2, 1801, between the English and the Danish fleets. England had accepted a declaration of the Armed Neutrality League (Russia, Denmark, and Sweden) as being really in the interests of her enemy, France, and the English fleet under Lord Parker was sent to the Baltic. Under Lord Nelson, the second in command, a decisive victory was gained, largely through the fact that Nelson refused to obey the orders of his superior officer.

[105] 67. =Riou= was one of Nelson's officers.

CHARLES WOLFE

Charles Wolfe was born at Dublin, Ireland, in 1791 and died at Queenstown in 1823. He graduated at Trinity College, Dublin, in 1814 and became curate of Donoughmore, Ireland. His _Remains_, with a brief memoir, were published in 1825.

His only poem of any distinction is the one here printed, _The Burial of Sir John Moore_.

THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE AT CORUNNA (Page 43)

First published in the _Newry Telegraph_, an Irish paper, in 1817, under the initials C. W.

Sir John Moore (1761-1809) was commander of an English army of twenty-four thousand men in Spain against a French force of eighty thousand under Soult. At the battle of Corunna, January 16, 1809, the English army won a doubtful victory in which their leader was killed. After burying him at dead of night, the English troops embarked for their own country.

[106] =Corunna= is a city in northwest Spain.

BYRON

George Gordon, Lord Byron, was born in London, January 22, 1788, and died at Missolonghi, April 19, 1824, at the age of thirty-six. Byron's father, a captain in the guards, after a romantic first marriage, wedded Catharine Gordon, a wealthy girl, of Aberdeenshire, whom, after squandering her fortune, he deserted shortly after young Byron's birth. Byron's mother was a quick-tempered, impulsive woman, ill-fitted to bring up a son who had a temperament almost exactly like her own. Once when a companion said to Byron, "Your mother's a fool," the boy answered, "I know it."

As a boy at school Byron formed passionate attachments, entered into the games he played with an unusual fierceness of spirit, and exhibited that sensitive pride which was the cause of much of his posing there and in later life. He was club-footed, a deformity about which he was extremely sensitive. Before entering Trinity College, Cambridge, in 1805, he had attended Harrow for five years. At Cambridge he remained less than three years, but in that time made some close friends and took an active part in all sorts of sports, especially riding and swimming. His vacations he spent at London or Southwell, generally quarrelling violently with his mother.

His first published poetry was _Hours of Idleness_, which appeared in 1807, and which was attacked by the _Edinburgh Review_ so strenuously that Byron replied in 1809 with _English Bards and Scotch Reviewers_. In the same year he took his seat in the House of Lords, but he had no interest in politics, and, accordingly, left England for two years' travel on the continent. This tour was the occasion of the first two cantos of _Childe Harold_. This poem was received so warmly that Byron remarked that "he awoke one morning to find himself famous." From now till the separation from his wife in 1816, after a year of wedded life, he was the lion of British society, but society took sides on this family difference, and as most of them sympathized with Lady Byron, Byron himself left England. He spent some time on Lake Geneva, where the Castle of Chillon is situated. He then went to Italy, where, amid his usual life of dissipation, he became interested in the Italian Insurrection. Among his friends and companions in Italy were Shelley and Leigh Hunt. In 1823, becoming attracted by the attempts of the Greeks to overthrow Turkish rule, he went to Greece as a leader, but he contracted a fever at Missolonghi, where he died, April 19, 1824.

As a poet Byron appeals especially to youth. His tales are so interesting that Scott made the remark that Byron beat him at his own game. Rapidity and force of movement, intensity and passion, excellent description, and a great, though not fine, command of poetic sound are the chief characteristics of his poetry. The romantic tale, _Childe Harold_, and the satire, _Don Juan_, are perhaps his best-known works.

THE PRISONER OF CHILLON (Page 45)

The castle of Chillon is situated near Montreux at the opposite end of Lake Geneva from the city of Geneva. It is a large castle, built on an isolated rock twenty-two yards from the shore of the lake. Beneath this castle, but some nine or ten feet above the surface of the lake, supported by seven detached pillars and one semi-detached, is a vaulted chamber, which was formerly used as a prison. Here, from 1530 to 1536, was imprisoned Francis Bonnivard.

Bonnivard, the son of the Lord of Lune, was born in 1496. When sixteen years old, he inherited from his uncle the priory of St. Victor, near Geneva. Later he allied himself with this city against the Duke of Savoy, but was captured and imprisoned for two years in Grolée. In 1530 he again fell into the hands of the Duke of Savoy, who this time confined him for six years in Chillon castle. At the end of this period he was liberated by the Bernese and Genevese and returned to Geneva to live a brilliant but wild life until 1570.

Byron takes no pains to stick to the facts of Bonnivard's imprisonment or life, or even to the facts about the prison itself. Notice, however, that he calls the poem "A Fable."

Byron and Shelley made a visit to Chillon in June, 1816, and while delayed for two days at Ouchy, a village on Lake Geneva, Byron wrote this poem.

Byron and Shelley belonged to a group of poets who were influenced by the French Revolution. Byron's love of freedom was so great that he aided Italy, and finally died from a fever contracted at Missolonghi, where he had gone to aid the Greek revolutionists. The following sonnet, which was prefixed to _The Prisoner of Chillon_, gives an idea of Byron's love of liberty.

SONNET OF CHILLON

"Eternal Spirit of the chainless Mind!
Brightest in dungeons, Liberty! thou art,
For there thy habitation is the heart--
The heart which love of thee alone can bind;
And when thy sons to fetters are consigned--
To fetters, and the damp vault's dayless gloom,
Their country conquers with their martyrdom,
And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind.

"Chillon! thy prison is a holy place,
And thy sad floor an altar--for 'twas trod,
Until his very steps have left a trace
Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod,
By Bonnivard!--May none those marks efface!
For they appeal from tyranny to God."

[107] 4. =Sudden fears.= Marie Antoinette's hair has been said to have turned gray on the return from Varennes to Paris. It certainly turned gray very quickly during the anxiety of the Revolution.

[108] 22. =Sealed.= How?

[109] 27.-----------

[110] 35. =Marsh's meteor lamp=; will o' the wisp.

[111] 38. =Cankering thing.= What does canker do?

[112] 57. The =elements= are fire, air, earth, and water.

[113] 82. =Polar day.= What is the length of the day near the poles?

[114] 100. =Sooth=; truth.

[115] 107. =Lake Leman=; another name for Lake Geneva.

[116] 133. The =moat= was the ditch which surrounded a castle. The moat of Chillon Castle, however, was the part of the lake which separated the rock from the shore.

[117] 179. =Rushing forth in blood.= Byron is said to have been fond of the symptoms of violent death. He, a year after writing this poem, saw three robbers guillotined, taking careful notice of his own and their actions. Goethe, the German poet, even thought that Byron must have committed murder, he seemed so interested in sudden death.

[118] 230. =Selfish death=; suicide.

[119] 237. =Wist=; the imperfect tense of _wit_, _to be aware of_, _to know_.

[120] 288. =Brother's.= It was a Mohammedan belief that the souls of the blessed inhabited green birds in paradise.

[121] 294. =Solitary cloud.= This line is one of several very close similarities in this poem to Wordsworth; cf.:--

"I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills."

[122] 341. The =little isle= referred to is Ile de Peilz, an islet on which a century ago were planted three elms.

[123] 392. =With a sigh.= It is not unheard of for men long imprisoned to lose all desire for freedom, and even to return to their place of confinement after being set free.

MAZEPPA (Page 58)

The following extract from Voltaire's _History of Charles XII_ was prefixed to the first edition of _Mazeppa_ as the "Advertisement":--

"The man who then filled this position [Hetman of Ukraine] was a Polish gentleman, named Mazeppa, who had been born in the Palatinate of Podolia. He had been brought up as a page to John Casimir, at whose court he had taken on some of the color of learning. An intrigue which he had in his youth with the wife of a Polish gentleman having been discovered, the husband had him bound, all naked, upon a wild horse, and in this condition let go. The horse, which was from the country of Ukraine, returned and brought there Mazeppa, half-dead with weariness and hunger. Some peasants helped him: he remained a long time among them and distinguished himself in several expeditions against the Tartars. The superiority of his wisdom brought him great consideration among the Cossacks. His reputation increased day by day, until the Czar was obliged to make him Prince of Ukraine."

The real life of Mazeppa was as follows: Ivan Stepánovitch Mazeppa was born in 1645, of Cossack origin and of the lesser nobility of Volhynia. When fifteen years old, he became the page to John Casimir V of Poland, and, while holding this office, learned Latin and much about statesmanship. Later, however, being banished on account of a quarrel, he returned home to his mother in Volhynia. While here, to pass the time, he fell in love with the wife of a neighbor, Lord Falbouski. This lord, or pane, discovering his wife and her lover, caused Mazeppa to be stripped and bound to his own horse. The horse, enraged by lashes and pistol shots and then let loose, ran immediately to Mazeppa's own courtyard.

Mazeppa, later, after holding various secretaryships, was made hetman, or prince, over all of Ukraine, and for nearly twenty years he was the ally of Peter the Great. Afterwards, however, he offered his services to Stanislaus of Poland, and finally to Charles XII of Sweden. "Pultowa's Day," July 8, 1709, when Charles was defeated by the Russians and put to flight, was the last of Mazeppa's power. He fled with Charles across the river Borysthenes and received protection from the Turks. He died a year later at Varnitza on the Dneister, just in time to escape being delivered over to Peter.

[124] 1. =Pultowa.= See Introductory Note.

[125] 9. =Day were dark and drear=; Napoleon's famous defeat, and retreat from Moscow, October, 1815.

[126] 15. =Die.= What is the plural?

[127] 23. =Gieta= was a colonel in the king of Sweden's army.

[128] 51. =Levels man and brute.= Burke says in his _Speech on Conciliation with America_, "Public calamity is a mighty leveller."

[129] 56. =Hetman.= See Introductory Note. Mazeppa was sixty-four years old.

[130] 104. =Bucephalus=; the horse of Alexander the Great. Alexander, when a boy, was the first to tame this horse, thereby, in fulfilment of the oracle, proving his right to the throne.

[131] 105. =Scythia= was a country, north and northeast of the Black Sea, which was inhabited by nomadic people. It was noted for its horses.

[132] 116. =Borysthenes=; another name for the Dnieper River.

[133] 151. A =Mime= was a sort of farce, travestying real persons or events.

[134] 154. =Thyrsis= was one of the names commonly used for shepherds in the Greek and Latin pastoral poets, as Theocritus, Bion, Virgil. The names were conventionally used by modern imitators of these poets.

[135] 155. =Palatine= (from _palatium_, meaning palace) was a name given to a count, or ruler of a district, who had almost regal power.

[136] 237. =O'erwrought=; the past participle of _overwork_. Cf. _wheelwright_, _wainwright_, etc.

[137] 329. =Cap-à-pie=; from head to foot.

[138] 349. ='Scutcheon=, or escutcheon, is the shield-shaped surface upon which the armorial bearings are charged.

[139] 437. =Spahi's=; the name of a Turkish corps of irregular cavalry.

[140] 575. =Uncouth=; literally, unknown.

[141] 618. =Ignis-fatuus=; will-o-the-wisp, Jack-o'-lantern.

[142] 664. =Werst=; a Russian measure equal to about two-thirds of a mile.

THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB (Page 86)

Read _2 Chronicles_, chapter 32, and _Isaiah_, chapters 36 and 37.

JOHN KEATS

John Keats was born October, 1795, and died on the 23d of February, 1821. He was the son of a livery-stable keeper, who had married his former proprietor's daughter. The parents had wished to educate Keats and his two brothers, but before Keats was fifteen, both his father and mother had died. He was then apprenticed to a surgeon at Edmonton, under whom he remained four years, and then went up to London to complete his training for a medical degree. This he received in due time and began to practise, but he found literature so much more attractive that, in about a year, he gave up his attempt to practise medicine. At about this time he became acquainted with Leigh Hunt, who had a good deal of influence upon Keats's literary beginnings. His first volume of poetry, which appeared in 1817, shows this influence strongly. A year later his _Endymion_ was published and was so severely criticised by _Blackwood's_ and especially by the _Quarterly_ that Keats took it much to heart; some have supposed that this attack very much hastened his death. His brother George had moved to America in 1818, and his brother Tom was now dying with consumption. Keats nursed him faithfully until his death. Immediately after this sorrow, he fell deeply in love, but his health was so greatly impaired that he found it necessary, in 1820, to take a trip to Italy. He did not grow stronger, however, but died at Rome on the 23d of February, 1821.

Keats's poetry is noted especially for its sensuous beauty, its descriptions, and its remarkable reproduction of the Greek and romantic spirits.

THE EVE OF ST. AGNES (Page 88)

Around St. Agnes' Eve, which is the night before the Feast of St. Agnes on January 21, and which corresponds to the Scotch "Hallowe'en," there grew up the superstition that a maiden could, by observing certain traditional precautions, have in her sleep a vision of her future husband. Perhaps the most common way to obtain this vision was for the girl to go to sleep on her back with her hands behind her head; then at midnight she would dream that her lover came and kissed her. This is the superstition that Keats has made use of in _The Eve of St. Agnes_.

St. Agnes was a Roman girl, who at thirteen was loved by the son of a Roman prefect, but, however, being like her parents a Christian and having vowed virginity, she told her lover that she was already betrothed. The youth, thinking he had some earthly rival, as a result fell so very sick that his father tried to intercede with the girl's parents. When he found these people were Christians, he tried to compel Agnes to become a vestal virgin or marry his son. Agnes, because she refused to do either of these things, was dragged to the altar, but because here, by her prayers, she restored to her lover the sight which he had lost, she was set free by the Prefect. The people, however, tried to burn her, but were themselves consumed in the fire, until finally one of their number slew her with his sword. A few days after her death, her parents had a vision of her, surrounded by angels and accompanied by a lamb (Agnus Dei). After her canonization it was customary to sacrifice on St. Agnes' Day, during the singing, two lambs whose wool the next day was woven by the nuns into pallia for the archbishops. (Cf. I. 115, 117.) Cf. _Agnus_ and _Agnes_.

[143] 5. =Beadsman.= =Bead= originally meant prayer; hence "to say one's beads." A beadsman was an inmate of an almshouse who was bound to pray for the founders of the house. In Shakespeare the word is used to denote one who prays for another.

[144] 31. =Snarling.= Does this verse resemble the sound described? What is the name of this figure?

[145] 40. =New-stuffed.= What does this mean here?

[146] 46. =St. Agnes' Eve.= See Introductory Note.

[147] 70. =Amort= (Fr. à la mort); lifeless, spiritless.

[148] 71. =Lambs.= See Introductory Note.

[149] 75. =Porphyro= (Gr. _porphyro_ = a purple fish, purple). Why did Keats choose this name instead of Lionel, as he first intended?

[150] 77. =Buttress'd= means supported, but here it must mean protected from; _i.e._ Porphyro was in the shadow of the buttress.

[151] 81. =Sooth=; truth. Cf. _soothsayer_.

[152] 86. =Hyena.= Find out the characteristics of this animal, and see what the force of the epithet is here.

[153] 90. =Beldame= (_bel + dame_) originally meant a fair lady, then grandmother and, in general, old woman or hag.

[154] 105. =Gossip= originally meant a sponsor at baptism (_God-sib_), then a boon companion, and finally a tattler.

[155] 115. =Holy loom.= See Introductory Note.

[156] 120. =Witch's sieve.= This refers to the superstition that witches could hold water in sieves and could sail in them. Cf. _Macbeth_, I. 3. 1, 8:--

"But in a sieve I'll thither sail,
And, like a rat without a tail,
I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do."

[157] 126. =Mickle=; much.

[158] 135. =Lap.= "Madeline is asleep in her bed; but she is also asleep in accordance with the legends of the season; and therefore the bed becomes their lap as well as sleep's."

--LEIGH HUNT.

[159] 138. How make =purple riot= in his heart?

[160] 171. =Merlin= was the sorcerer in Arthur's court. Vivien succeeded in getting from him a secret by which she shut him up in a hollow tree. See Tennyson's _Merlin and Vivien_. Malory has another version of the story.

[161] 173. =Cates=; provisions,--especially rich, luxurious provisions. Cf. _cater_, _caterer_.

[162] 174. =Tambour frame.= Tambour is a kind of drum; cf. _tambourine_. A tambour frame is a round frame for holding material which is to be embroidered.

[163] 208. =Casement high....= On these next three stanzas Keats spent much time. They are considered beautiful description. Why?

[164] 214. =Heraldries= are coats of arms.

[165] 215. =Emblazonings=; colored heraldries.

[166] 218. =Gules=; the tincture red. In a shield without color gules is indicated by vertical parallel lines.

[167] 241. =Missal=; a mass book for the year. What is the meaning of this line? =Paynims=; pagans.

[168] 257. =Morphean.= Morpheus was the god of sleep.

[169] 262. =Azure-lidded sleep.= Note the different senses appealed to in these next stanzas. Keats is called one of our most sensuous poets.

[170] 266. =Soother=; used here for _more soothing_.

[171] 267. What are =lucent syrops=? Note derivation.

[172] 277. =Eremite=; hermit.

[173] 292. Keats wrote a poem about this time called _La Belle Dame sans Merci_.

[174] 346. =Wassailers= was a term originally used for men drinking each other's health with the words _wes h[=a]l_, be whole.

[175] 375. Angela. Have the deaths of Angela and the Beadsman been foretold?

ALFRED TENNYSON