By the Same Author. 
 
 JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED WITH Six HELIOTYPE ENGRAVINGS. 
 1 vol. Small quarto. $1.50. 
 
 Mr. Lowell s Parentage and Family, Birthplace and Surround 
 ings, Editorial Work, Early Verses, The Anti-Slavery Move 
 ment, Hosea Biglow, Sir Launfal, Domestic Life, First and 
 Second Marriages, Satires, Atlantic Monthly, Yankee Humor, 
 Reconstruction, Commemoration Ode, Prose Essays, Subtility. 
 in Poetry, Personal Traits, etc. 
 
 "This sketch of Lowell is a very pleasant one, and full of 
 interesting things." Boston Advertiser. 
 
 " He is conversant vyith his subject in the successive degrees of 
 personal familiarity, friendly regard, and admiring sympathy." 
 Literary World. 
 
 t " A very charming biographical sketch. ... A very instruc 
 tive and delightful introduction to writings which cannot be too 
 well or too largely known. He has written no panegyric of his 
 hero, but a book which even David Masson might admire." 
 Quebec Chronicle. 
 
 JAMES R. OSGOOD & CO. 
 
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 
 
 a astograpljfcal 
 
 BY 
 
 FRANCIS H. UNDERWOOD 
 
 AUTHOR OF HANDBOOKS OF ENGLISH LITERATURE, A BIOGRAPHICAL 
 SKETCH OF JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL, 
 
 BOSTON 
 JAMES R. OSGOOD AND COMPANY 
 
 1882 
 
B*Y* 
 
 Copyright, 1882, 
 K. 
 
 . All rights 
 
 eservcd. 
 
 UNIVERSITY PRESS: 
 JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 As it is known that the family of the de 
 ceased poet intend to publish a full account 
 of his life, including his correspondence, 
 which must be extensive and valuable, it is 
 proper that a brief statement should be made 
 as to the origin and status of this Biographi 
 cal Sketch. 
 
 While Mr. Longfellow was in his usual 
 health, somewhat more than a year ago, he 
 kindly undertook the task of looking over 
 my Sketch of James Russell Lowell. I had 
 asked him to do this friendly service for me, 
 and for Mr. Lowell, who could not be con 
 veniently consulted. I have still the proof- 
 sheets with annotations in his well-known 
 hand. He praised the work ; and, with the 
 simple frankness of Priscilla in his Pun- 
 
 M84159 
 
vi PREFACE. 
 
 tan romance, he intimated that he would be 
 pleased to have one written of himself in a 
 similar spirit. Up to that time I had not in 
 tended to undertake such a labor ; his works 
 were so many, and his fame so widely dif 
 fused, that I felt a sincere diffidence in ap 
 proaching the subject. But, encouraged by 
 his approbation, I began collecting materials, 
 and making such studies as I could of his 
 separate works. Being engaged in business 
 to which I have been, and still am, bound to 
 devote the most of my time, the work pro 
 ceeded slowly. I did not imagine that the end 
 was near, and supposed I should still have 
 time to carry out my plans with care. Only 
 a fortnight before his death I spent an even 
 ing in his library, and submitted to him my 
 notes and data; I intended to go again 
 within a few days, but soon learned that he 
 was seriously ill. His death soon followed. 
 
 Having spent nearly all my spare time for 
 a year in preparation, it appeared proper to 
 complete the work as soon as it could be 
 
PREFACE. vii 
 
 done. Under these circumstances there has 
 been less time to give completeness and 
 finish than I could have desired. 
 
 It should be added, that I resided in Cam 
 bridge from 1854 to 1859, and enjoyed the 
 friendship and often the invaluable converse 
 of Longfellow and Lowell ; and, as I was the 
 projector of the Atlantic Monthly, and had 
 been the means of gathering the eminent 
 literary men who made it renowned, I was 
 for the first two years a constant attendant 
 at the monthly dinners hereinafter men 
 tioned, and so came to have a personal knowl 
 edge of the great writers of our State and 
 time. And I have felt that it was something 
 very like a duty for me to put on paper, be 
 fore age should overtake me, my early im 
 pressions of that remarkable group of men, 
 now sadly broken. 
 
 The Sketch of Lowell has been published ; 
 but it will be enlarged as soon as opportunity 
 offers. The Sketch of Longfellow is here 
 with presented. Similar sketches of Whit- 
 
viii PREFACE. 
 
 tier, Holmes, and Emerson will follow as 
 speedily as circumstances allow. 
 
 Thanks are due to many persons for valu 
 able aid. I must mention the services of 
 Peter Thacher, Esq., William Winter, the 
 poet, Charles Lanman, author and artist, H. 
 W. Bryant, Librarian of the Maine Histori 
 cal Society, Professor Charles Eliot Norton, 
 Wm. P. P. Longfellow, Esq., nephew of the 
 poet ; and I must especially thank the fam 
 ily of the poet for the loan of Mr. Lanrnan s 
 picture and the historic inkstands, and for 
 furnishing the manuscript lines of which a 
 fac-simile has been made. 
 
 FKANCIS H. UNDERWOOD. 
 
 BOSTON, April 27, 1882. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 INTRODUCTORY 1 
 
 THE LONGFELLOW FAMILY 12 
 
 PORTLAND 33 
 
 BOYHOOD AND YOUTH 43 
 
 WOOING THE MUSES 53 
 
 A YOUNG PROFESSOR 60 
 
 STUDIES ABROAD 66 
 
 THE HARVARD PROFESSOR 75 
 
 SUCCESS 88 
 
 ANTISLAVERY POEMS 95 
 
 His SECOND MARRIAGE 102 
 
 POETS AND POETRY OF EUROPE Ill 
 
 THE BELFRY OF BRUGES 113 
 
 CRITICISM 117 
 
 EVANGELINE 137 
 
 KAVANAGH 148 
 
 AGASSIZ 149 
 
X CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE SEASIDE AND THE FIRESIDE 157 
 
 THE GOLDEN LEGEND 163 
 
 HIAWATHA 166 
 
 THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY 182 
 
 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH 188 
 
 NAHANT 193 
 
 A TRAGEDY 199 
 
 THE WAYSIDE INN 202 
 
 HAWTHORNE 210 
 
 FLOWER-DE-LUCE 213 
 
 CHRISTUS, A MYSTERY 215 
 
 THE HANGING OF THE CRANE 220 
 
 MORITURI SALUTAMUS 222 
 
 KERAMOS 225 
 
 POEMS OF PLACES 227 
 
 A BOOK OF SONNETS 229 
 
 AN ESTIMATE 231 
 
 TRANSLATION OF DANTE 243 
 
 ULTIMA THULE 246 
 
 SEVENTY-FIFTH BIRTHDAY 249 
 
 PERSONAL TRAITS 252 
 
 LAST HOURS 268 
 
CONTENTS. xi 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. FROM THE PROCEEDINGS OF THE MAINE HISTOR 
 ICAL SOCIETY ON THE OCCASION OF LONGFEL 
 LOW S SEVENTY-FIFTH BIRTHDAY .... 273 
 
 II. GENEALOGIES 307 
 
 III. LONGFELLOW. BY WILLIAM WINTER . . . . 311 
 
 IV. CORRESPONDENCE WITH CHARLES LANMAN . . 314 
 V. MR. LONGFELLOW S EARLY POEMS 319 
 
 VI. A BIBLIOGRAPHY OF LONGFELLOW . . 344 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTEATIONS. 
 
 PORTRAIT OF LONGFELLOW (on Steel) . . . Frontispiece 
 
 THE HOUSE BUILT BY WM. LONGFELLOW IN BYFIELD 
 (FORMERLY PART OF NEWBURY), IN 1678. From 
 a Picture painted by Charles Lanman, in the Pos 
 session of Mr. Longfellow s Family 15 
 
 THE STEPHENSON HOUSE IN PORTLAND, IN WHICH 
 THE POET WAS BORN. From a Photograph . . 26 
 
 THE WADSWORTH-LONGFELLOW HOUSE IN PORT 
 LAND. From a Photograph 35 
 
 THE HOUSE OF GENERAL WADSWORTH IN HIRAM. 
 From a Photograph 45 
 
 THE VASSALL-CRAIGIE-LONGFELLOW HOUSE IN CAM 
 BRIDGE. From a Picture by H. J. Fenn, in the 
 Possession of James R. Osgood, Esq 79 
 
xiv LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 VIEW OF THE LONGFELLOW HOUSE FROM THE LAWN, 
 ON THE NORTH SIDE. From a Photograph . . 107 
 
 THE OLD CLOCK ON THE STAIRS 116 
 
 SMALL PICTURES OF TWO FAMOUS INKSTANDS. 
 
 COLERIDGE S 258 
 
 CRABBE S . 259 
 
 A CORNER OF LONGFELLOW S STUDY . . . . . 261 
 
 FACSIMILE OF LONGFELLOW S HANDWRITING. The 
 Original kindly furnished by his Family . . . . 263 
 
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 
 
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 
 
 A FRUITFUL literary life which has extended 
 over fifty years is necessarily an object of re 
 spectful interest and admiration. The labors 
 of most writers fall within the limits of a 
 generation, a third of a century; their cre 
 ative power seldom outlasts the ideas and 
 fashions among which they have grown up. 
 In fifty years there is time for a poet to have 
 seen, in his early days the decline of an old 
 school, in his manhood the rise and triumph of 
 a new one, and in his age the signs of change 
 and the dim forms of coming ideals in art. 
 
 Longfellow s first poems were written al 
 most sixty years ago. Eobert Southey was 
 then the English Laureate, who as a poet is 
 
2 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 now wholly neglected and almost forgotten. 
 Keats, Shelley, and Byron had only recently 
 passed away ; Scott, Wordsworth, Moore, 
 Coleridge, Campbell, Hood, Landor, and 
 L^g-]i Huat were still living; Tennyson and 
 Browning were soon to appear; and these, 
 Mth their immediate predecessors, were to 
 make the nineteenth century hardly less illus 
 trious than the Elizabethan age. 
 
 It had been settled that rhymed argument 
 or eloquence, such as prevailed in the eigh 
 teenth century, however compact, witty, and 
 musical, is not necessarily poetry. Pope 
 might still be called a poet, but his germi 
 nating influence had ceased. The formal 
 heroics were obsolete, except that, like other 
 departing fashions, they lingered in provin 
 cial districts. Poetry in England was occu 
 pied with noble themes, and had become 
 once more thought etherealized. 
 
 The attention of the British is rarely 
 turned upon their colonies, except as fields 
 for trade, and as places for bettering the for- 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 
 
 tunes of younger sons. Their calm conceit 
 of superiority has long been remarked ; and 
 one may be sure that the writers of the 
 United States are in no danger of being 
 spoiled by English flattery. 
 
 Fifty years ago the British had heard of 
 Dr. Franklin ; they had read the Declaration 
 of Independence (at least their statesmen 
 had) ; Washington Irving with his Sketch 
 Book had made a pleasant ripple in London 
 society; theologians had heard of Jonathan 
 Edwards; and that was about all. Some 
 few persons, curious in the literary annals 
 of an obscure people, may have read the 
 " Thanatopsis in the North American Re 
 view ; but the notion of the existence of 
 American literature, especially of American 
 poetry, would have caused a derisive roar 
 from Aberdeen to Portsmouth. 1 
 
 And the literature of the United States 
 
 1 If the reader desires to see specimens of mingled ignorance 
 and prejudice, he will find them in the articles upon American 
 literature in the Encyclopaedia Britannica, 
 
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 fifty years ago, it must be confessed, exist 
 ed largely in promise. Irving was favora 
 bly known on both shores of the Atlantic. 
 Cooper had written "The Spy," and was 
 famous. Joseph Rodman Drake s " Culprit 
 Fay," a pleasing performance for a youth, 
 was thought to be a happy portent. Fitz- 
 Greene Halleck, Robert C. Sands, and Gu- 
 lian C. Verplanck were in the flush of youth 
 and hope. Bryant had made a noble begin 
 ning, and the elevated thought and sure 
 movement of his verse prognosticated higher 
 renown. Emerson, the most original of Eng 
 lish-speaking men in this century, was preach 
 ing at the North End of Boston. So far as the 
 public knew, there was 110 hint of his poetry 
 or of the great Essays yet. Prescott was 
 reading and meditating for his brilliant histo 
 ries. Bancroft was then a politician, and had 
 not entered upon his great work. Dr. Palfrey 
 was discoursing upon the Old Testament at 
 the Theological School of Cambridge. Wil 
 lis, born in the same year with Longfellow, 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 5 
 
 was trying his prentice hand in verse, and 
 was to become for the next twenty years the 
 most popular, as he was the most versatile, 
 of the light-armed corps of writers. Dana, 
 after a few tantalizing successes, became 
 
 " Involved in a paulo-post-future of song." 
 
 Sprague had recited his fine Shakespeare 
 and Centennial Odes, and settled back in 
 to his comfortable and honorable banker s 
 chair. John Pierpont had admirers ; so had 
 John Neal and Mrs. Sigourney. Edgar A. 
 Poe was just becoming known ; his first 
 verses were published in 1829. The literary 
 world, and Longfellow in particular, were to 
 hear much of him in the following twenty 
 years. Hawthorne, who was Longfellow s 
 college classmate, published his first volume 
 later, in 1837, and was truly, as he him 
 self said, " the obscurest man of letters in 
 America." 
 
 On the whole, we may say that the works 
 which have a reasonable chance to live, 
 
6 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 written previous to Longfellow s beginning-, 
 are very few, and they are not in the de 
 partment of poetry. The loyalty and zeal 
 of Dr. Griswold, and the exhaustive labors 
 of the brothers Duyckinck, have preserved 
 for us a mass of details which are copious 
 materials for literary history, but of which 
 very little can be considered as belonging 
 to our national literature. For oblivion has 
 already settled down upon the greater part 
 of the names and the works held in honor 
 fifty years ago ; and to look back upon 
 Griswold s " Poets and Poetry of America" 
 is like taking a distant view of Mount Au 
 burn Cemetery by moonlight. 
 
 The public taste half a century ago was 
 unformed. The public taste is far from in 
 fallible now ; but the elders know that there 
 has been a wide-spread change. It is seen 
 in many apparently trivial things. The pop 
 ular poetry fifty years ago was matched by 
 the cheap and gaudy colored lithographs, 
 and by the plaster images of Italian pedlers, 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. < 
 
 both of which forms of "art" were as per 
 vasive as the colors of the national flag. 
 There was no literary standard. The aver 
 age editor thought more of the " scream of 
 the American eagle " than of any canon of 
 taste. There were no canons of taste or 
 laws of criticism. Any sentiment in a mu 
 sical flow of words, with sparkles of high- 
 colored adjectives, was a poem. And as for 
 poets capable of such verses, in the slang 
 of the frontiers "the woods were full of 
 them." 
 
 Few editors and fewer readers were liber 
 ally educated. In the public schools the 
 reading was largely from eighteenth-century 
 authors, while the notions of rhetoric and 
 criticism were derived from Blair or Lord 
 Kaimes, pedants who never knew the idioms 
 of English. So, between old-fashioned pro 
 fessors who taught what was gone by, and 
 the fluent, self-confident apostles of jingle and 
 glitter (whose field was in milliners maga 
 zines and red-morocco annuals), the student, 
 
8 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 if there were one, had no secure middle 
 ground. 
 
 It would require the space of a volume 
 to show the influences which have been at 
 work since 1830 to build up our literature, 
 or rather to lay a foundation for it, and to 
 connect it with our social and political life. 
 The period is that of our greatest expan 
 sion in population, wealth, and power, of 
 the greatest improvements in the arts, of the 
 greatest diffusion of intelligence, arid the one 
 in which the bulk of American literature has 
 been produced. All benign influences have 
 acted in concert. To a public like that of 
 1830 the best productions of our day would 
 have been enigmatical or ridiculous. The 
 education of that public, so far as it has 
 gone, has been an enormous work, for which 
 every moral as well as material force has 
 been employed. Schoolmasters, engineers, 
 preachers, reformers, philosophers, inventors, 
 printers, these with the editors and au 
 thors have been slowly raising the level of 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 9 
 
 thought and achievement, building, as it 
 were, under a whole people a foundation 
 like that of Persepolis, on which the rising 
 structure of our letters and art is to stand. 
 Every new era brings new powers and ad 
 vantages ; but it is hardly possible that there 
 will ever be a time in which the vast work 
 of our century will be eclipsed. 
 
 It must be considered a good fortune for 
 Longfellow to have been born at a period 
 when national prosperity was fairly begun, to 
 have grown with his country s growth, to 
 have reached maturity when its literature 
 was for the first time reckoned as a power, 
 and to have attained to serene old age at 
 a time when the whole reunited republic 
 regarded him with honor and pride. The 
 public life of no other American author 
 has covered such a span ; the period of no 
 other has so many fortunate incidents; the 
 fame of no other is so universal among all 
 classes of men. 
 
 The chief honors in American letters thus 
 
10 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 far have been gained by poets. In history, 
 science, and criticism, with a few brilliant 
 exceptions, we have produced little to be 
 compared with the works of Englishmen. 
 The influences of great universities and the 
 cultivation and inherited tastes of the lead 
 ing classes (such as exist in England) are 
 almost wholly wanting in America. The 
 power of such a literary centre as London 
 is almost solar. There is no such gravita 
 tion in our western hemisphere. At the first 
 thought it might appear that poets, whose 
 genius is inborn, do not need the stimu 
 lus of learned society, and are not aided 
 by breathing a literary atmosphere. But 
 though the poet s original impulse comes 
 from the Creator, and that which is vital in 
 his verse is due to no teaching, yet his taste, 
 his skill and mastery, are largely affected 
 by his surroundings, and, unless he is a man 
 of self-centred power, by the public sym 
 pathy, or the want of it. 
 
 Poets of the first order are so rare that they 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 11 
 
 cannot be reckoned in any Buckle s system of 
 averages. England has produced two, Shake 
 speare and Milton. Poets of the second order, 
 such as Chaucer, Spenser, Byron, Coleridge, 
 Keats, Shelley, Wordsworth, and Dryden, are 
 more evenly distributed among the genera 
 tions. Leaving Robert Browning out of the 
 account (for the present), we find among liv 
 ing English poets only one pre-eminent, the 
 Laureate Tennyson. It is probably no more 
 than just to assign his rank as being the first 
 since Milton. At the same time there are 
 living in America Emerson, Lowell, Holmes, 
 and Whittier ; and these, with Longfellow 
 and Bryant, lately deceased, appear to edu 
 cated Americans superior severally in genius 
 and in accomplishment to any living Eng 
 lish poet, save Tennyson. 1 
 
 1 This is a plain statement of an indubitable truth ; and in 
 view of the invincible ignorance of British reviewers and cyclo- 
 pedists it appears necessary for an American writer once in a 
 while to publish concisely his articles of belief. We are Eng 
 lish in blood, not aliens, and English literature and thought 
 are ours. " If you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle 
 us, do we not laugh ?" 
 
12 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 THE LONGFELLOW FAMILY. 
 
 The old town of Newbury, in the north 
 eastern part of Massachusetts, has an inter 
 esting history. It was the birthplace of an 
 unusual number of intellectual and eminent 
 men. So many poets, jurists, preachers, 
 mathematicians and college professors have 
 sprung from the primitive stock, that the list 
 of "freemen" embraces the names of the 
 best known families in the Commonwealth. 1 
 Among them are Gushing, Dana, Emerson, 
 Felton, Gould, Greenleaf, Hale, Jackson, 
 Lunt, Longfellow, Lowell, Noyes, Pierce, 
 Sewall, Story, Whipple, Whittier, and Woods. 
 Each generation appears also to have had a 
 full share of the intellectual training which 
 was possible at the time. No less than 308 
 graduates of Harvard College (from 1642 to 
 1845) were born in Newbury. Considering 
 the early poverty, the trials attending the 
 
 1 See Joshua Coffin s unique and excellent History of New 
 bury. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 13 
 
 settlement of a new country, and the hostil 
 ities with Indians, French, and the mother 
 country, this is a remarkable record. 
 
 William Longfellow, who was born in 
 1651, and probably in Hosforth, near Leeds, 
 in Yorkshire, came to this country in 1676, 
 settled in Newbury, and, in November, 1678, 
 married Ann Sewall, sister of the well-known 
 Chief Justice. The commonly accepted ac 
 count is that he came from Hampshire ; but 
 this is evidently an error. Samuel Sewall, 
 writing to his brother Stephen, at Bishop- 
 Stoke, Hampshire, October 24, 1680, says: 
 
 "Bro. Longfellow s Father, Will m Longfellow 
 lives at Hosforth, near Leeds in Yorkshire. Tell 
 him Bro. has a son W m a fine likely child, a very 
 good piece of Land, & greatly wants a little stock 
 to manage it." l 
 
 It is known that the father was alive in 
 August, 1687, but probably died in the 
 autumn, as the son went to England in No- 
 
 1 N. E. Hist, and Genealog. Register, Vol. XXIV. No. 2, 
 April, 1870. 
 
14 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 vember or December of that year to get his 
 patrimony. 
 
 The residence of William Longfellow was 
 in the Byfield parish of Newbury. " The 
 location of the house is unsurpassed. It is 
 situated on a sightly eminence at the very 
 head of tide water on the river Parker, the 
 sparkle of whose waters, as they go tumbling 
 over the falls, adds a picturesqueness to the 
 natural beauty of the scenery that lies spread 
 
 on either hand Nature was lavish 
 
 here, and young Longfellow, appreciating it 
 all, erected the house to which he took his 
 young bride. It still stands, though two cen 
 turies and more have passed since its oaken 
 frame was put together. It has not been oc 
 cupied for twenty odd years, and of course is 
 in a dilapidated condition. The large chim 
 ney was taken down years ago," to the 
 poet s great regret, " and a part of the house 
 itself has been removed." 1 The picture of 
 
 1 Letter of Horace F. Longfellow to the Brunswick Tele 
 graph, March 10, 1882. 
 
THE HOUSE AT NEWBURY. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 17 
 
 the house and surroundings was painted by 
 Charles Lanman, and presented to the poet, 
 by whose favor it was copied. 
 
 As ensign of the Newbury company, the 
 first American Longfellow had a part in the 
 disastrous expedition against Quebec under 
 command of Sir William Phipps. The force, 
 consisting of 2,200 soldiers, set sail in thirty- 
 two vessels from Boston, August 9, 1690. 
 The attempt to capture the stronghold failed, 
 and the expedition was abandoned. On the 
 return voyage a violent storm in the Gulf 
 of St. Lawrence scattered the fleet, and one 
 of the vessels, containing the Newbury com 
 pany, was wrecked on the island of Anti- 
 costi. William Longfellow and nine others 
 were drowned. 1 
 
 Stephen Longfellow, son of the first settler 
 William, was born in 1685. He was the " vil 
 lage blacksmith " and ensign in the militia of 
 the town. He married Abigail Thompson, 
 daughter of a clergyman in Marshfield ; and 
 
 1 Sewall s Diary, Nov. 21, 1690, Vol. I. p. 335. 
 
18 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW, 
 
 the position of an " elder 5 in a theocracy like 
 the Massachusetts Colony was a strong guar 
 anty for the respectability of his son-in-law. 
 His fifth son, Stephen, was born at the old 
 homestead, February 7, 1723, and was gradu 
 ated at Harvard College in 1742. He lived 
 for a short time at York, and in 1745 was in 
 vited to Portland (then a part of Falmouth) 
 to take charge of the grammar school. 1 A 
 curious item is preserved as to his salary. It 
 was fixed by the town at 50 for the first 
 year, besides 185. 6d. tuition to be paid by 
 each scholar. The second year his salary 
 was raised to 200. The records of the time 
 attest that he was probably one of the most 
 widely known and respected citizens of the 
 District of Maine. For nearly thirty years 
 he held office, as clerk of the town and par 
 ish, Register of Probate, and Clerk of the 
 Judicial Court. His handwriting was fair 
 and regular, and his habits of mind method 
 ical and clerkly. This peculiarity of beauti- 
 
 1 This appears in the Diary of Rev. Thomas Smith. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 19 
 
 ful penmanship has continued in the family 
 to this day. Tradition has it that he was 
 a bright and entertaining companion, noted 
 for sallies of wit and for inexhaustible good 
 humor. A note in the diary of the Rev. 
 Thomas Smith records the fact that Long 
 fellow once accompanied him to an ordi- 
 nation, and was so lively (in spite of the 
 solemnity of the occasion) that, says the 
 good parson, " I fear we somewhat passed 
 the bounds of decorum." 
 
 This clerical Longfellow married Tabitha 
 Bragdon, of York, in 1749. A son was born 
 in 1750, August 3, and was duly christened 
 Stephen. At the age of twenty-three this 
 Stephen was married to Patience Young of 
 York. He lived at Gorham (whither also his 
 father came afterwards), and was a surveyor 
 by profession. He held many public offices, 
 and was Judge of the Common Pleas from 
 1797 to 1811. Persons still living remember 
 him as he drove into Portland " in an old 
 square-topped chaise." " He was a fine-look- 
 
20 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 ing gentleman, with the bearing of the old 
 school, erect, portly, rather taller than the 
 average, with a strongly marked face, and his 
 hair tied behind in a club with a black rib 
 bon. To the close of his life he wore the old 
 style of dress, knee breeches, a long waist 
 coat, and white top-boots. He was a man of 
 sterling qualities of mind and heart, ster 
 ling integrity, and sound common sense." l 
 
 Falmouth, an important place on account of 
 its noble harbor, was bombarded by a Brit 
 ish fleet under command of Captain Henry 
 Mowatt, October 18,1775. This was in re 
 turn for the indignity of an arrest endured 
 by Moffatt when ashore. Over four hundred 
 buildings were burned, and the greater num 
 ber of citizens were driven to the interior. 
 The Longfellow family removed to Gorham, 
 a few miles west, and continued to reside 
 there. Stephen, the Clerk of Court, died 
 there in 1790. His son, the Judge, died 
 there in 1824. 
 
 1 Rev. H. S. Burrage, Portland Advertiser, Feb. 28, 1882. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 21 
 
 Stephen Longfellow, father of the poet, was 
 born in Gorham, March 23, 1776. At the 
 age of eighteen he entered Harvard College, 
 and was graduated with honor in 1798. His 
 rank is attested by his being chosen a mem 
 ber of the Phi Beta Kappa Society. 
 
 The descriptions of his person and man 
 ners, and of the qualities of his mind and 
 heart, read as if they had been written for 
 the poet himself. 1 
 
 His classmate, Humphrey Devereux, of 
 Salem, says : " On entering college, Long 
 fellow (Stephen) was in advance in years of 
 many of us, and his mind and judgment, of 
 course, more matured. He had a well bal 
 anced mind, no part so prominent as to over 
 shadow the rest In his temperament, 
 
 he was bright and cheerful, and engaged 
 freely in the social pleasures of friendly meet 
 ings and literary associations. His man 
 ners then as in later life were courteous, 
 
 1 " The Law, Courts, and Lawyers of Maine," by William 
 Willis. 
 
22 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 polished, and simple, springing from a native 
 politeness or a generous, manly feeling. He 
 was born a gentleman, and was a general 
 favorite of his class." 
 
 The illustrious Dr. Charming says : "I 
 never knew a man more free from every 
 thing offensive to good taste or good feel 
 ing ; even to his dress and personal appear 
 ance, all about him was attractive 
 
 He was evidently a well-bred gentleman 
 when he left the paternal mansion for the 
 University. He seemed to breathe an atmos 
 phere of purity as his natural element, while 
 his bright intelligence, buoyant spirits, and 
 social warmth diffused a sunshine of joy that 
 made his presence always gladsome." 
 
 His portrait (in Willis s volume) is that of 
 a bright, clear-minded, courteous, and refined 
 gentleman. He studied law in Portland, in 
 the office of Salmon Chase, an eminent advo 
 cate, uncle of Salmon Portland Chase, after 
 wards Secretary of the Treasury in the Cabi 
 net of Abraham Lincoln, and Chief Justice 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 23 
 
 of tlie United States Supreme Court. He 
 attained a very high rank at the bar, as well 
 as an influential position among his fellow- 
 citizens. In the year 1814 he was sent as a 
 delegate to the famous Hartford Convention 
 of Federalists. In 1822 he was elected a 
 member of Congress, and served with Web 
 ster, Clay, Randolph, Buchanan, and other 
 distinguished men. But he did not accept 
 a renomination ; public life had no charm for 
 him, and he gladly returned to his profes 
 sion. In 1824, as the leading citizen, he wel 
 comed Lafayette to Portland, and was hon 
 ored by an exquisitely graceful reply. He 
 continued to devote himself to his legal busi 
 ness, to the interests of Bowdoin College, of 
 which he was one of the Trustees, and to the 
 Maine Historical Society, of which he was 
 an active and efficient member. 
 
 He was married, January 1, 1804, to Zil- 
 pah, daughter of General Peleg Wads worth, 
 who was a prominent officer in the war of 
 independence. General Wadsworth was a 
 
24 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 man of high character and of eminent abil 
 ity. It would be impossible here to give 
 even the most cursory sketch of his long and 
 active life. 1 It should be mentioned, how 
 ever, that he was descended from the Pil 
 grims of Plymouth, Mass., five of his ances 
 tors, including Elder Brewster and John 
 Alden, having been passengers in the first 
 memorable voyage of the Mayflower. The 
 genealogy of the Wadsworths, and the line 
 of descent from John Alden may be seen in 
 the Appendix. 
 
 The ancestry of the family of the poet s 
 mother is interesting on account of the con 
 nection with the well-known tradition of 
 Captain Miles Staridish s vicarious courtship. 
 She was connected by two different lines to 
 that Priscilla Mullen whose significant an 
 swer, " Why don t you speak for yourself, 
 John ? " has been preserved in the beautiful 
 romance of her descendant. Zilpah Wads- 
 
 1 See his Memoir in the Appendix, by the Hon. William 
 Goold, of Windham, Me. 
 
LONGFELLOW S BIRTHPLACE, PORTLAND. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 27 
 
 worth was born in Duxbury, Mass., Jan. 6, 
 1788, while her father was in the Revolution 
 ary army. All accounts tend to show that 
 she was a superior woman, possessed of her 
 full share of the hereditary bravery and hon 
 orable qualities which marked her father and 
 her gallant brothers. At the close of the 
 war her father and family removed to Maine, 
 and lived partly in Portland and partly in 
 the town of Hiram, then called Wadsworth s 
 Grant, the name of a large tract of land 
 bought by the General from the State of 
 Massachusetts. 
 
 Mr. Longfellow lived for the first year 
 after his marriage in the house built by his 
 wife s father, now known as the Longfellow 
 house. It stands upon Congress Street, ad 
 joining the Preble House. It happened in 
 the autumn of 1806 that a sister, Mrs. Ste- 
 phenson, invited Mr. Longfellow and wife to 
 pass the winter in her house, on account of 
 the absence of her husband in the West In 
 dies. The Stephenson house, a large, square 
 
28 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 wooden structure, is still standing at the cor 
 ner of Fore and Hancock Streets. It was 
 during the temporary residence of the family 
 at this house that the poet was born. His 
 name was given in remembrance of his 
 mother s brother, Henry Wads worth, a bril 
 liant young naval officer, who fell in the 
 attack upon Tripoli in 1804. 
 
 Not long after, General Wadsworth re 
 moved to his estate in Hiram ; and from that 
 time the family of Stephen Longfellow con 
 tinued to occupy the General s house. 
 
 Mr. Longfellow, the poet s father, lived in 
 happiness with the wife of his youth for more 
 than forty-five years. There were born to 
 them four sons and four daughters. Stephen, 
 the eldest, the poet s classmate in college, died 
 in 1850. Alexander Wadsworth Longfellow 
 is still living in Portland. The Eev. Sam 
 uel Longfellow is an esteemed clergyman in 
 Germantown, near Philadelphia, and is the 
 author of numerous admirable poems. Eliz 
 abeth Wadsworth Longfellow died in 1829, 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 29 
 
 and Ellen Longfellow in 1834. Two daugh 
 ters survive, Mrs. Anne Longfellow Pierce, of 
 Portland, and Mrs. Mary Longfellow Green- 
 leaf, of Cambridge, Mass. The father died, 
 August 3, 1849, at the age of seventy-four. 
 The poet, who was the second son, was 
 born in Portland, February 27, 1807. 
 
 It will be seen that the poet inherited the 
 best blood of the two early colonies, Pilgrim 
 and Puritan ; and that his place in the line 
 of descent was where the best qualities of 
 both came to maturity. The rise of families 
 from obscurity, the increase of intellectual 
 power (following wise marriages) generation 
 by generation, and the progressive refine 
 ment of taste and feeling, until the accumu 
 lation forces the blossom of genius in the 
 person of some fortunate descendant, is a 
 most interesting study. The problem is to 
 continue the culture without tending to loss 
 of power, and without sacrificing the indi 
 viduality. 
 
 After tracing the lines of descent with as 
 
30 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 much care as is possible, a biographer must 
 still feel that he is far from the mystery of 
 the genesis of genius. The Longfellows for 
 generations were tall and vigorous men, with 
 the instincts and training of soldiers ; the 
 Wadsworths had their virtues and their hero 
 ic bravery; but never before this fortunate 
 conjunction (so far as we know) was there 
 in either family a gleam of the poetic fac 
 ulty. After all that has been written upon 
 heredity, it remains true, we think, that 
 genius is a miracle. The sober and prac 
 tical abilities commonly grouped under the 
 name of talent are transmissible. Good bod 
 ies, solid characters, courage, good sense, and 
 capacity for affairs, may be predicted with 
 something like certainty in well-descended 
 families ; but no one can say that at such 
 a point there will be born the creator of a 
 Hamlet, an Endymion, a Childe Harold, an 
 Evangeline, or a Sir Launfal. In fact, it is 
 almost certain that there are not half a dozen 
 instances in all history of two men of un- 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 31 
 
 questioned genius who bear to each other 
 the relation of father arid son. Poets have, 
 as a rule, left few inheritors of their blood, 
 and those have seldom been singers by im 
 pulse. 
 
 Though nothing that is ultimately per 
 fect is produced without labor, yet in the 
 case of a man of genius, whether poet, 
 sculptor, or painter, that which distinguishes 
 him is the almost unconscious development 
 of creative power. He does not toil for an 
 image of beauty; it comes to him. As 
 Longfellow observed, " What we call mira 
 cles and wonders of art are not so to him 
 who created them ; for they were created 
 by the natural movements of his own great 
 soul. Statues, paintings, churches, poems, 
 are but shadows of himself, shadows in 
 marble, colors, stone, words. He feels and 
 recognizes their beauty ; but he thought these 
 thoughts and produced these things as easily 
 as inferior minds do thoughts and things 
 inferior." 
 
32 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 In the Longfellow family the foundations 
 were laid two centuries ago. Each father 
 strove to place his son in a higher position 
 than he himself had held. Each was faithful 
 to his appointed task, and to the duty which 
 was nearest. The long wars with the French 
 and Indians, and afterwards with England, 
 allowed no time for any but practical studies. 
 Character then as now counted for more than 
 accomplishment. The axe, the spade, and 
 the musket were more familiar to early Long- 
 fellows than the pen. It was not until peace 
 came, and plenty followed, and the labors of 
 the farmer, the advocate, and the judge had 
 brought prosperity and affluence and the 
 right of leisure into the family, that there 
 was a possibility of " The Psalm of Life," or 
 " The Footsteps of Angels." 
 
 In the sketch of Lowell it was shown that 
 poetry was incompatible with early Puritan 
 ism. It is needless here to dwell upon the 
 barrenness of the first century of our history, 
 or to detail the causes which so long pre- 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 33 
 
 vented the development of literature and art. 
 For half a century after the peace with Great 
 Britain there was a brooding time. Wounds 
 were healed ; laws were re-established ; col 
 leges were reopened and schools fostered ; 
 trade sprung up ; ascetic views of life faded ; 
 provincial narrowness disappeared ; and then 
 came a revival or new birth of letters. In 
 this fortunate time the poet Longfellow was 
 born. 
 
 PORTLAND. 1 
 
 Few cities upon the seaboard are so beau 
 tifully situated as Portland. The view to one 
 coming up the harbor is something never to 
 be forgotten. Cape Elizabeth stretches out 
 on one hand like a gigantic wall, with a 
 light-house at its southern extremity ; and on 
 the other are the many lovely islands of 
 Casco Bay. The city rises from the water 
 
 1 For this part of his work the author has made free use 
 of the elaborate account by Edward H. Elwell, Esq., published 
 in the Portland Advertiser, Feb. 28, 1882. 
 
34 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 by easy and natural swells, and the ensemble 
 is completed by the dome-like crowns of 
 Munjoy and Brainhall Hills. Behind are nat 
 ural forests, and a profusion of noble trees 
 skirt the principal streets. This charming 
 union of rural and urban beauty, as seen 
 from the harbor, gives a delightful surprise 
 to the incoming voyager. The Forest City 
 is its very appropriate and picturesque name. 
 Hints of this remembered beauty are to be 
 seen in Longfellow s poem entitled "My Lost 
 Youth." 
 
 " I^ canjsee the shadowy lines oMts Jrees, 
 And catch, mjmdden gleams, 
 
 The sheen of the far-surrounding seas, 
 And islands that were the Hesperides 
 Of all my boyish dreams." 
 
 " I can see the breezy dome of groves, 
 
 The shadows of Deering s Woods," 
 
 In the latter_part_pf _the 
 a fishing village, and was called Falmouth 
 Neck. Its recovery was slow after its de 
 struction by the British fleet ; but in 1807, 
 
THE LONGFELLOW HOUSE, PORTLAND. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 37 
 
 the year of Longfellow s birth, it had become 
 a place of commercial importance. 1 
 
 "I remember the black wharves and the slips 
 
 And the sea-tides tossing fiv<- ; 
 And Spanish sailors with bearded lips, 
 And the beauty and mystery of the ships, 
 
 And the magic of the sea." 
 
 In 1 8 12 ; _ during the war, defensive works 
 ^w^re erected-on-the-shore^-and garrisons were, 
 established on Munjoy Hill, The impres-^ 
 sions of that stirring time were never effaced. 
 Longfellow s sonorous lines show how deeply 
 his boyish mind was affected. 
 
 " I ^emember the bulwarks by the shore. 
 
 And the fort upon the hill ; 
 The sunrise gun with its hollow roar, 
 The drum-beat repeated o er and o er, 
 And the bugle wild and shrill. 
 > Xnd the music of that old song 
 Throbs in my memory stiU : 
 1 A boy s will is the wind s will, 
 And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts. " 
 
 1 As an evidence of the business of Portland, it may be 
 mentioned that in 1806, when its population was probably 
 less than 7,000, the tonnage of its shipping was 39,000, and 
 the duties collected amounted to $346,444. 
 
38 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 Another tragic reminiscence was the sea- 
 fight between the British brig Boxer and the 
 United States brig Enterprise, which took 
 place off the coast. The captains of both 
 vessels were killed in the action, and were 
 -trnriect In the cemetery at the foot of Mun- 
 joy Hill. In the- poem before quoted-4s-frhre 
 stanza : 
 
 " I remember the sea-fight far away, . 
 
 How it thundered o er the tide ! 
 And the dead captains, as they lay 
 In their graves, o erlooking the tranquil bay, 
 Where they in battle died. . 
 
 And the sound of that mournful song 
 (Toes through me with a thrill : 
 A boy s will is the wind s will, 
 And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts. " 
 
 At the time of Longfellow s boyhood, the 
 fashions of the Revolutionary period were just 
 passing away. The speech of the people was 
 homely, and inflected with the old Yankee 
 accent. Cows were pastured on Munjoy Hill. 
 There were few private carriages. A stage 
 conveyed passengers to Boston ; but much of 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 39 
 
 the intercourse with other sea-coast towns 
 was by sailing-vessels. When, afterwards, 
 the young Longfellows went to college, they 
 made the journey by coasters through Casco 
 Bay to Harps well. The two newspapers were 
 published weekly. There was no theatre or 
 other place of amusement, but West India 
 rum was plentiful and in daily use. There 
 were learned lawyers and clergymen, but it 
 is not probable that there was much in the 
 intellectual life of the town to favor the de 
 velopment of a poet. 
 
 In the towns near the sea-coast, from New 
 port to Portland, there was a great similarity 
 in domestic architecture. A large number of 
 the better class of the old houses have been 
 torn down or rebuilt. In Boston and vicinity 
 very few remain ; although in Charlestown, 
 Cambridge, Salem, Newburyport, Portsmouth, 
 Exeter, Dover, and towns farther eastward, 
 we can still behold the typical New England 
 mansion. It is ample in size and stately in 
 form. It is associated with reminiscences 
 
40 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 of ruffles, shoe-buckles, silver-topped canes, 
 courtly manners, and hospitality. It is the 
 house of the judge, the Continental general, 
 the squire, the prosperous doctor of divinity 
 or of medicine, or of the merchant whose 
 ships have brought him spices, ivory, and 
 gold dust from over sea. It is generally 
 of three stones, the third being somewhat 
 abridged ; and the form is quadrangular, fifty 
 feet on a side. Various extensions and out 
 buildings are in the rear, and sometimes on 
 the sides. The front door opens into a wide 
 hall, from which a grand stairway leads to 
 the upper stories. The hall is wainscoted, 
 and hung with rather stiff portraits. The 
 stairway is broad and the steps are wide, 
 giving an easy ascent to the landings. Twist 
 ed and carved balusters support the hand 
 rail, each one wrought separately in some 
 quaint device. There are four large, square 
 rooms on the ground floor, each with its 
 open fireplace and elaborately carved mantel 
 piece. The walls are thick, like those of a 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 41 
 
 fortalice, and the windows are recessed like 
 embrasures. Those who are accustomed to 
 the cardboard structures of our time, whether 
 in the form of Italian villas, Swiss chalets, or 
 white-pine Gothic, have a strange sensation 
 in visiting these solid dwellings. There is an 
 air of repose in them, an idea of amplitude 
 and permanence. One feels that the builders 
 must have been large-minded, serene men. 
 A fashionable dwelling of fifteen feet front 
 on the new land of the Back Bay in Boston 
 furnishes a perfect antithesis. The ancient 
 houses were well placed, in grounds of some 
 extent, on the crest of a natural elevation, or 
 near a grove, with broad, grassy lawns, bor 
 dered by elms and oaks, and dotted with firs 
 and spruces, and with clumps of flowering 
 shrubs. The distinguishing features of the 
 old towns of New England are still these 
 superb mansions. They are generally paint 
 ed buff or cream-white, having green blinds 
 and high and heavy chimneys ; and in their 
 picturesque situations and surroundings they 
 
42 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 give an almost poetical charm to the land 
 scape. 
 
 Such is a general description of the houses 
 in which Longfellow has lived : the Stephen- 
 son house and the Wads worth- Longfellow 
 house in Portland, and the Vassall-Craigie 
 house in Cambridge. 
 
 It will be remembered that the poet s fa 
 ther was a highly successful and prosperous 
 advocate, and that his maternal grandfather 
 was possessed of an ample estate, and it is 
 fair to presume that the boy had every ad 
 vantage in his education which wealth and 
 liberality could procure. 
 
 It should also be remembered that with 
 the sensible men of the last generation the 
 training of boys to habits of industry and 
 
 obedience was not as now one of the lost 
 
 ( 
 
 arts. Unquestionably, the poet and his 
 brothers and sisters had the strict and care 
 ful training which has been the making of 
 so many honorable and useful men and 
 women, in New England and elsewhere. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 43 
 
 But on the other hand there were never 
 kinder or more considerate parents than 
 Stephen and Zilpah Longfellow. 
 
 BOYHOOD AND YOUTH. 
 
 At a very early age our poet attended a 
 private school kept by Mrs. Fellows, and 
 afterwards another kept by Mr. Nathaniel 
 H. Carter. This master became afterwards 
 Principal of the Portland Academy, and 
 there Longfellow began to prepare for col 
 lege. During the latter part of the time he 
 was under the charge of Mr. Cushman, who 
 succeeded Carter. Mr. Carter was a man of 
 superior attainments, and wrote a volume of 
 patriotic poems ; though one wonders into 
 what limbo of forgetfulness the volume has 
 fallen. When he left Portland he went to 
 New York and became editor of the Even 
 ing Post, afterwards Mr. Bryant s paper. At 
 the age of fourteen Henry and his elder 
 brother Stephen entered Bowdoin College, at 
 Brunswick, not far east of Portland. For the 
 
44 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 first year he pursued his studies mainly at 
 home. 
 
 He must have been a great reader as well 
 as a thorough student, because in his earliest 
 writings there is an evident wide acquaint 
 ance with English and other modern litera 
 tures. In fact, his was hardly a " boyhood," 
 in the usual sense of the term. He enjoyed 
 an occasional sail among the islands, and 
 was a frequent visitor at the paternal home 
 in Grorham and at the house of his grand 
 father Wadsworth. In these places, which 
 are full of beautiful water-courses, woods, 
 and meadows, he gained the intimate ac 
 quaintance with nature which is the indis 
 pensable training of a poet. From these 
 rural scenes, and from the views of the 
 countless green islands and the storm-beaten 
 coast, he drew the inspiration which was to 
 be as lasting as life. 
 
 But he does not appear to have had time, 
 or perhaps inclination, for the common out 
 door sports and pastimes of youth. Yacht- 
 
THE "WADSWORTH" HOUSE, HIRAM, ME. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 47 
 
 ing, hunting, fishing, and games were for such 
 as did not propose to become learned at 
 twenty. It is strange to think of a hearty, 
 vigorous, and manly boy advancing to matu 
 rity without boyish adventures, peccadilloes, 
 or accidents, and gliding into a professor s 
 chair in a few years after leaving his moth 
 er s knee. 
 
 Among his classmates, "besides his brother, 
 were Hawthorne, John S. C. Abbott, Rev. 
 George B. Cheever, Cilley, who was killed 
 in a duel by Graves of Kentucky, and James 
 W. Bradbury. His scholarship was evident 
 from the beginning, and at graduation he 
 stood second in a class numbering thirty- 
 seven. He was appointed one of the orators, 
 and was assigned the theme of " Chatterton" ; 
 but the Faculty was induced to change the 
 theme proposed, and he delivered an oration 
 on "American Literature." 
 
 How Longfellow looked at this period, as 
 well as the impression he made upon his as 
 sociates, may be seen in a recent letter from 
 
48 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 his classmate Bradbury to Peter Thacher, 
 Esq. 1 The reference to Hawthorne, though 
 perhaps gratuitous, is an interesting bit of 
 literary history. 
 
 " AUGUSTA, January 13, 1882. 
 
 " DEAR SIR, .... 
 
 " My recollection is that he entered college a 
 Sophomore, 2 and that I was examined with him 
 to enter old Bowdoin in the same class. He 
 was then quite young, with a slight, erect figure, 
 a remarkably fair and delicate complexion, with 
 the bloom of health, clear blue eyes, an intelli 
 gent and pleasing expression of countenance, and 
 a good head covered with a profusion of rather 
 light brown hair. He was an agreeable compan 
 ion, kindly and social in his manner, rendering 
 himself dear to his associates by his disposition 
 and deportment. Pure in his tastes and morals, 
 his character was without a stain. As a scholar, 
 while indulging in general reading, and occasion 
 ally flirting with the Muses, he always came to 
 the recitation-room so thoroughly prepared in his 
 
 1 Mr. Thacher is a well-known lawyer of Boston, and his 
 wife is the sister of the first wife of the poet. 
 
 2 Only partially correct. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 49 
 
 lessons that lie placed himself in the front rank 
 in the large and able class of 1825; and on gradu 
 ating he received one of the three English orations 
 assigned to that class for the Commencement ex 
 ercises, the English orations then and for more 
 than thirty years afterward outranking the Latin 
 in that College. 
 
 " In the recitation-room he was greatly superior 
 to his subsequently illustrious classmate, Haw 
 thorne, who often came so poorly prepared in 
 his lessons that he was one of the twelve in a 
 class of thirty-eight to whom no part was assigned 
 at Commencement. 
 
 " Hawthorne (then spelt Hathorne) was in col 
 lege a peculiar and rather remarkable young man, 
 shy, retiring, fond of general reading, busy with 
 his own thoughts, and usually alone or with one 
 or two of his special friends, Pierce (afterwards 
 President), and Horatio Bridge of Augusta. 
 
 " It is a remarkable fact in Hawthorne s history 
 as an author that, after he had left the manu 
 script for his first volume with Mr. Goodrich l 
 for publication, Mr. Bridge had occasion to in 
 quire why the issue of it was delayed, and was 
 
 1 Samuel G. Goodrich, a well-known writer, with the pseu 
 donym of Peter Parley. 
 
60 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 told by Mr. Goodrich that, as the author was un 
 known, he needed some guaranty against loss. Mr. 
 Bridge thereupon gave his guaranty, unknown to 
 Hawthorne. 
 
 " Had he been apprised of Mr. Goodrich s re 
 fusal, with his sensitive nature, it is likely that he 
 would have withdrawn and burnt the manuscript, 
 and possibly the world would have lost the fruits 
 of his rare genius. 
 
 " Very truly yours, 
 
 "JAMES W. BRADBUBY." 
 
 The venerable Professor Packard, who 
 was a member of the Faculty in the same 
 period, has written a short account of the 
 appearance of Longfellow as a student. This 
 is in a letter which is also addressed to Mr. 
 Thacher. 
 
 " BRUNSWICK, ME., January 12, 1882. 
 "MY DEAR SlE, 
 
 " Your letter of yesterday has just been received. 
 In regard to Mr. Longfellow s appearance, &c. in 
 college, I have only a few distinct reminiscences. 
 I remember him as a light-haired, agreeable, well- 
 bred, and well-mannered youth. I judge that his 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 51 
 
 preferences were for classical studies, and whatever 
 addressed the aesthetic element was largely devel 
 oped in him at an early period. His poetic effu 
 sions attracted notice as the Poet s Corner in 
 Portland newspapers, and in college placed him 
 in the highest rank of college poets. During a 
 winter vacation I was visiting in Boston, and met 
 Mr. Carter, then conducting the 4 Literary Gazette, 
 who asked me whom we had in our college that 
 wrote such fine poetry ? It was Longfellow. He 
 delivered the poem at the anniversary of the Peu- 
 cinian Society, the same season. I cannot name it. 
 Mr. J. S. C. Abbott, in his address to his class at 
 their fiftieth anniversary, in 1875, related an in 
 cident which I had not known before; viz. that 
 young Longfellow s translation of an Ode of Hor 
 ace at the annual examination in his Sophomore 
 year attracted the notice of Hon. Benjamin Orr, 
 one of the committee of examination, and led him 
 to think of him as a candidate for the new Pro 
 fessorship of Modern Languages then in contem 
 plation. 
 
 " He did not have a poem at his graduation, 
 because the rank of a poem was indefinite, and he 
 was assigned one of the English orations, the high 
 est class of appointments. 
 

 52 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 " You see that I have not much in detail to write 
 concerning Mr. Longfellow ; but I have a distinct 
 image of him in memory as he sat, in his Sopho 
 more year, in the recitation-room, North Entry, 
 Maine, middle back room. I regret to hear that 
 he is in feeble health. I did not call upon him 
 when I spent several days in Boston undergoing 
 the dull process of sitting for my portrait, for my 
 time was occupied, and moreover I avoid any in 
 crease of the interruptions such a man must expe 
 rience every day. 
 
 " I am faithfully yours, 
 
 "A. S. PACKARD." 
 
 Longfellow s college themes were fre 
 quently skilful versions from Horace and 
 other classic authors ; and this fact, to 
 gether with his uncommon maturity of 
 mind and character, drew attention to him 
 at an early period, and led subsequently to 
 his appointment to the newly established 
 chair of Modern Languages, for which Mad 
 ame Bowdoin gave the foundation. 
 
 Professor Cleaveland, the eminent miner 
 alogist, was a member of the Faculty at 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 53 
 
 this time ; and though their tastes and pur 
 suits varied, it is believed that the elder, who 
 was a very able and magnetic man, exercised 
 a salutary influence upon the mind of the 
 rising poet. Longfellow has commemorated 
 the Professor in a fine sonnet. 
 
 WOOING THE MUSES. 
 
 Like all inspired poets, Longfellow began 
 to write verses at an early age. The " Ear 
 lier Poems " in the collected edition are such 
 as he thought worth preserving. It appears 
 to us, however, that some of those which he 
 rejected are quite equal to the ones he chose 
 to acknowledge. With a pleasing quaint- 
 ness he has prefaced the group thus : 
 
 " These poems were written for the most part 
 during my college life, and all of them before the 
 age of nineteen. Some have found their way into 
 schools, and seem to be successful. Others lead 
 a vagabond and precarious existence in the cor 
 ners -of newspapers; or have changed their names 
 and run away to seek their fortunes beyond the 
 
54 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 sea. I say, with the Bishop of Avranches on a 
 similar occasion: "I cannot be displeased to see 
 these children of mine, which I have neglected, 
 and almost exposed, brought from their wander 
 ings in lanes and alleys, and safely lodged, in or 
 der to go forth into the world together in a more 
 decorous garb. " 
 
 These with a number of others were pub 
 lished in the United States Literary Gazette, 
 conducted by Theophilus Parsons and James 
 C. Carter. 1 The remuneration for them was 
 small indeed. A short time before his death 
 Mr. Longfellow told the author that on one 
 occasion, in Boston, having received notice 
 that the munificent sum of thirteen dollars had 
 been placed to his credit, for two poems and 
 a prose article, lie declined to receive the 
 money, but accepted instead a set of Chat- 
 terton s Works, which are still in his library. 
 This was the day of small things in letters. 
 
 1 Longfellow s contributions to this periodical have lately 
 been collected and published in London. His poems not in 
 cluded in his complete works will be found, with dates, etc., 
 in the Appendix. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 55 
 
 The public-spirited writers for the North 
 American Review at that time not only fur 
 nished their articles without pay, but often 
 had to contribute to make up the losses of 
 the printer. 
 
 It may also be said here that our poet 
 got no pay from the Knickerbocker Maga 
 zine, though he was promised five dollars 
 each for the "Psalm of Life" and "The 
 Reaper and the Flowers." Almost every lit 
 erary man in America had a similar expe 
 rience with the last-named periodical. To be 
 sure, Milton s traditionary five pounds for 
 "Paradise Lost" was a more unconscionable 
 bargain ;* but in our day, when poets sel 
 dom receive less than from fifty to two hun 
 dred dollars for short poems, the thought of 
 buying the immortal " Psalm of Life " for 
 five dollars, and not paying for it either, 
 appears preposterous. 
 
 1 The current story is not true. See the account in Mas- 
 son s Life of Milton, wherein it is shown that Milton and his 
 family received altogether 28 for the poem. 
 
56 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 Mr. Samuel Ward (in the New York World, 
 March 25, 1882) says respecting "The Reap 
 er and the Flowers " : " I was greatly stirred 
 by the dash of the verse and the symmetry 
 of the series of pictures it so graphically 
 presented. I took the poem and read it 
 aloud, and I think that the poet s own opin 
 ion was confirmed by my enthusiastic ren 
 dering of the part. I carried it to New 
 York, where, having shown it to the poet 
 Halleck, and obtained a certificate from him 
 of its surpassing lyric excellence, I sold it 
 to Mr. Lewis Gaylord Clarke, of the Knick 
 erbocker Magazine, for fifty dollars, a large 
 price in those days for any poetical produc 
 tion." 
 
 Only a fortnight before Mr. Longfellow s 
 death the author made inquiry of him as 
 to what pieces had been published in the 
 Knickerbocker, and the prices paid for them. 
 Mr. Longfellow replied good-humoredly that 
 there were two, and that he was paid noth 
 ing. Again in the course of the evening 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 57 
 
 the same matter was spoken of, and Mr. 
 Longfellow repeated the statement, that he 
 did not receive a dollar for either poem. 
 One may be reasonably reluctant to spoil 
 such a complacent story as Mr. Ward s, but 
 Mr. Longfellow s statement ought to be de 
 cisive. The Knickerbocker paid nobody ; 
 and it was not alone among periodicals in 
 its way of " developing native talent." Mr. 
 N. P. Willis, in a letter addressed to the 
 author in 1844, said, "You could not sell a 
 piece of poetry in America." 
 
 The fact has no importance, except as 
 showing that the authors of forty years ago 
 wrote from an inward impulse or the desire 
 of posthumous fame, and with the certainty 
 that their labors could not procure them a 
 morsel of bread. Mr. Longfellow fortunately 
 was not dependent upon his writings for sup 
 port. 
 
 In the works of most poets we see in 
 succession the characteristic traits of youth, 
 of maturity, and of age. We are prepared 
 
58 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 at the outset for tumults of passion, for uncal- 
 culating enthusiasm, and for an exuberance 
 of imagery. The poetic impulse is at its 
 height at the dawn of manhood. Years of 
 study and experience may discipline the 
 powers, giving material and skill both, but 
 will never add a jot to the natural gift. 
 The great poets have manifested their vo 
 cation before mental maturity. Shelley s 
 " Alastor," full of natural piety, and tremu 
 lous with adolescent passion, was the fresh 
 utterance from the heart of a boy. Nothing 
 more absolutely of the essence of genius 
 ever came from that unfortunate poet s pen. 
 Pope tells us he lisped in " numbers," and 
 his most poetical work, "The Rape of the 
 Lock," was published at the age of 24. 
 Byron s premices were gathered at 19. Mil 
 ton s " Comus" \vas written at 24, and the 
 "Lycidas" at 30. Coleridge s " Lyrical Bal 
 lads" appeared when he was 26, Scott s first 
 poems at 25, Wordsworth s at 24, Keats s 
 "Endymion" at 24, Browning s first poems 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 59 
 
 at 22, Swinburne s " Atalanta" at 21, Lamb s 
 sonnets at 21, Hood s early poems at 26, 
 Lander s at 21, Charles Kingsley s at 26, 
 Felicia Hemans s at 22, Bryant s " Thana- 
 topsis " at 19, Willis s wliile an undergradu 
 ate in college, Lowell s " Year s Life" at 21. 
 
 We have seen that the genius of Long 
 fellow had also an early development ; but 
 it is noticeable that there were no evidences 
 of immaturity in his early poems, still less of 
 riotous passion or an overwrought diction. 
 They have a delightful tranquillity, free from 
 strain or effort. The lines seem to have 
 been born in due order, and thereby the 
 soul of the poet had its full desire, instead 
 of being governed or turned aside by the 
 exigencies of measure and rhyme. Thus a 
 singular and classic completeness marked his 
 poems from the beginning. The period of 
 his youth glided into that of maturity im 
 perceptibly, as the brook widens into the 
 river. 
 
60 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 A YOUNG PROFESSOK. 
 
 Upon his graduation in 1825, Longfellow 
 began the study of law in his father s office; 
 but he had no taste for the profession, and 
 not long after was fortunate in having the 
 opportunity to begin a literary career. The 
 Professorship of Modern Languages was es 
 tablished at Bowdoin College, and the ap 
 pointment was tendered to him, with leave 
 of absence for -travel and study. 
 
 He sailed for Europe in 1826, and visit 
 ed France, Spain, Italy, Germany, Holland, 
 and England. He returned in 1829, and as 
 sumed the duties of his professorship. Mr. 
 Peter Thacher writes as follows: 
 
 "In the autumn of 1829, Mr. Longfellow entered 
 upon his duties as Professor of Modern Languages 
 in Bowdoin College. Your correspondent then 
 saw him for the first time. He had a fine, erect 
 figure, a complexion of great purity and delicacy, 
 and a great deal of color. He was youthful in his 
 appearance, and eminently handsome. His man- 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 61 
 
 ners and conversation were charming. He pos 
 sessed a most prepossessing address, and was dis 
 tinguished for his courtesy and affability. His 
 intercourse with the students was mutually satis 
 factory. He manifested no hauteur or stiffness. 
 Freedom and ease predominated in the recitation- 
 room, yet there was nothing that tended to undue 
 familiarity. He recognized his pupils as gentle 
 men : they justified his estimate of them by their 
 respectful demeanor towards their accomplished 
 instructor. Uniformly beloved and admired by 
 his pupils, his success as a teacher was all that 
 could have been desired." 
 
 In the succeeding year the Freshman class 
 numbered fifty-two, the largest that had 
 up to that time entered the College ; and 
 President Hamlin of Middlebury College, 
 who entered Bowdoin that year, says that 
 many of its members were attracted by 
 Longfellow s reputation. 
 
 In September, 1831, he was married to 
 Miss Mary Storer Potter, daughter of the 
 Hon. Barrett Potter, of Portland. The Pot 
 ters were early immigrants to this country, 
 
62 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 and were among the founders of the New 
 Haven Colony. 
 
 Barrett Potter was born, March 8, 1777, at 
 Lebanon, and was graduated at Dartmouth 
 College in 1796. He began the practice of 
 the law at Gorham, and was afterwards part 
 ner of Salmon Chase in Portland. He was 
 Judge of Probate for twenty-five years, and 
 prominent in public affairs. 
 
 Miss Potter was lovely alike in mind and 
 in person. Her accomplishments were ex 
 ceptional, especially in mathematics, as it is 
 said she had learned to calculate eclipses. 
 She was a proficient in languages, and her 
 note-books and school exercises show her su 
 perior intellect and training. She made ap 
 posite citations from the poets, and indulged 
 in occasional excursions into the domain of 
 metaphysics. She made a most delightful 
 impression in the society of Brunswick. 
 
 In 1833 Longfellow s first book appeared, 
 " The Coplas of Don Jorge Manrique," with 
 a few translations from Lope de Vega, and an 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 63 
 
 Essay on the Moral and Devotional Poetry 
 of Spain. The poem of Manrique, a solemn 
 and sustained effort, is deservedly admired 
 by Spaniards, and its translation was an 
 exceedingly difficult task. It is but just to 
 say that Longfellow s is one of the few ade 
 quate translations, fully equalling in power 
 and ease the original. 1 
 
 In the same year were issued portions of 
 " Outre-Mer," although the work was not 
 completed until 1835. 
 
 The fame of Longfellow, both as a poet 
 and a practical instructor, had reached Cam 
 bridge. He had prepared for his students, 
 
 1 The following short notice of Manrique is from the pen 
 of Professor Torricelli: 
 
 " Jorge Manrique is a very good lyrical poet, and some of 
 his verses on Love are very pretty. He is not, however, one 
 of the great poets of Spain. His Coplas, or stanzas upon the 
 death of his father, form one of his best pieces, and, so far as 
 I can now remember, Longfellow s translation is very good, 
 better, in my opinion, than the original. Such at least was 
 the impression that it made on me when I first read it, sev 
 eral years ago. There was another poet of the same name, 
 Gomez Manrique, who lived at the same time and died sev- 
 
64 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 and used with success, grammars and other 
 text-books of modern languages, and was 
 recognized as a rising man. In 1835, upon 
 the retirement of Professor George Ticknor, 
 he was appointed to the vacant chair in Har 
 vard College, with leave of absence as be 
 fore ; and with his wife again visited Europe. 
 He spent the summer in Norway and Swe 
 den, and the autumn and winter in Holland 
 and Germany. His wife, whose health had 
 been delicate for some time, died at Rotter 
 dam, November 29, 1835. It is this lovely 
 woman who is commemorated in the touch 
 ing poem entitled "The Footsteps of An 
 gels." 
 
 eral years later, whose poems stand higher, one especially on 
 Human Life. He was, I think, a brother or cousin to Jorge, 
 and the notices given in some of our cyclopaedias and biblio 
 graphical dictionaries seem to confound the two and consider 
 them as the same person. Jorge was quite young when he 
 died, and, judging from his beginning, might have become 
 great if his life had been spared. His being known here is 
 due only to Longfellow. What I say is from memory, having 
 read a great deal on the subject many years ago. Scanty as 
 the information is, however, it is correct." 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 65 
 
 "And with them the Being Beauteous, 
 
 Who unto my youth was given, 
 More than all things else to love me, 
 And is now a saint in heaven. 
 
 "With a slow and noiseless footstep 
 
 Comes that messenger divine, 
 Takes the vacant chair beside me, 
 Lays her gentle hand in mine. 
 
 "And she sits and gazes at me, 
 
 With those deep and tender eyes, 
 Like the stars, so still and saint-like, 
 Looking downward from the skies. 
 
 " Uttered not, yet comprehended, 
 
 Is the spirit s voiceless prayer, 
 Soft rebukes, in blessings ended, 
 Breathing from her lips of air. 
 
 " O, though oft depressed and lonely, 
 
 All my fears are laid aside, 
 If I but remember only 
 
 Such as these have lived and died. 
 
 It is by glimpses like this that we see the 
 tender and beautiful domestic life of the poet, 
 and the character of the wife of his youth. 
 The stanzas quoted carry an impression more 
 lasting than any labored eulogy. 
 
 5 
 
66 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 For a year after her death he continued 
 his studies, and in November, 1836, he re 
 turned home to enter upon his duties as 
 " Smith Professor of Modern Languages and 
 Literature " at Cambridge. 
 
 STUDIES ABROAD. 
 
 The years of residence in Europe were 
 filled with thorough, earnest work. Having 
 great natural aptitude for such studies, he 
 mastered all the principal modern languages 
 of Europe, and made himself familiar with 
 the leading works in each. His subsequent 
 labors rested largely upon this universal 
 knowledge, as will be seen hereafter. 
 
 In 1839 he published " Hyperion," a prose 
 romance. The hero, Paul Flemming, is an 
 American traveller, whose few adventures 
 form the slight thread of the story. In 
 " Outre-Mer " and " Hyperion " may be seen 
 maps of Longfellow s travels, and intima 
 tions of his progress in letters and art. In 
 the first freshness of his youth he left be- 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 67 
 
 hind him the barrenness of the New World 
 to satiate himself with the learning, culture, 
 tradition, and genius of Europe. Many a 
 young man had done the same, but it was 
 for a poef s eyes to discern the picturesque 
 in scenes made familiar by countless books 
 of travel, and for a poet s pen to record the 
 larger and permanent impressions of nature 
 and art which still charm and instruct us in 
 the tales and sketches of " Outre-Mer," and 
 in the wise talk of Paul Flemming. In his 
 delicate, crystal sentences are seen, as in a 
 camera, the towered cities, storied cathe 
 drals, and ruined castles, as well as the 
 mountains, lakes, and rivers, celebrated in 
 song. But his mind is not wholly absorbed 
 in the outward views of things ; in every 
 country lie visits he divines the distinctive 
 character, and feels the beat of the univer 
 sal human heart. In "Outre-Mer" the tone 
 changes, chapter by chapter, as the traveller 
 crosses a national boundary. He sees what 
 is brightest and most characteristic in each 
 
68 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 country. He looks at Spain with the eyes 
 of Cervantes ; in the old provincial cities of 
 France, the songs of the Troubadours and 
 the psalms of the cloisters are sounding in 
 his ears ; in Italy, he is haunted by the 
 melodic echoes of Tasso and Petrarch ; in 
 Germany he hears the ancient bards, but 
 still more clearly the noble strains of the 
 new-born poets that were beginning to glad 
 den the world. Much as his heart was drawn 
 to the art and the joyous life of Southern 
 Europe, his deepest feelings were awakened 
 by the legends and soul-full poetry of the 
 German Fatherland. 
 
 Fifty years ago English-speaking people 
 were almost wholly ignorant of German life 
 and literature. The general notion was of a 
 solid, plodding, obstinate race, distinguished 
 chiefly for beer, sausages, and military drill, 
 a race destitute of courtly manners and 
 personal refinement, and without any re 
 nown except in dull and obsolete philosophy 
 and in the arts of war. German literature 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 69 
 
 was a late product, the latest of the ages. 
 In form and in spirit it was wholly a new 
 development, without precedent, not indebt 
 ed to classic models or to contemporaries. 
 Germans and English alike are Goths ; and 
 the blood of a Goth is stirred by the mighty 
 cathedrals and by the long-cherished folk 
 lore as it is never stirred by the lighter and 
 more graceful forms of architecture and by 
 the poetry that is indigenous with the de 
 scendants of the Latin race. 
 
 When English and American scholars first 
 discovered the treasures of German poetry, 
 there was an excitement like that which led 
 the rush to the new continent of Columbus. 
 We know how Carlyle was enthralled by 
 his German masters ; how Coleridge, both 
 as poet and table-talker, exhibited himself 
 steeped in German thought and tradition ; 
 how Hawthorne s conceptions were thought 
 to be tinged with the mysticism of Fouque, 
 and the subtilty of Tieck ; how Emerson 
 got his first awakening from the same influ- 
 
70 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 ences; and, later, liow the whole Transcen 
 dental School, serenely unconscious of imi 
 tation, were talking German philosophy at 
 second hand. Longfellow among Americans 
 appears to have been the first to acknowl 
 edge the influence of those poets who are 
 nearest us in blood, and whose tastes, feel 
 ings, and traditions we measurably share. 
 
 These volumes of travel are interspersed 
 with translations from Uhland, Tieck, Miiller, 
 Salis, Goethe, and others, full of sparkle and 
 life, and full of the deep characteristic Ger 
 man sentiment. At this period Longfellow 
 had published no original poems, although 
 the " Earlier Poems," and some of the poems 
 in " Voices of the Night " had been written 
 long before. Many of these, without being 
 in any sense imitations, could not have been 
 written by any but a German scholar, and 
 one thoroughly in sympathy with the tender 
 and spiritual feeling of the poets who suc 
 ceeded Goethe. 
 
 The incidents of travel in " Outre-Mer " 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 71 
 
 and " Hyperion" are few. These are not 
 guide-books, art catalogues, or itineraries. 
 The trivial records of inns and diligences, 
 the statistics of business and population, 
 have no place. Instead of such details, we 
 have only what is characteristic and endur 
 ing, set forth with a poet s instinctive art. 
 The scenery is a charming, but unobtrusive 
 background ; while the thoughts of the wise 
 and the immortal forms of beauty are placed 
 in rightful prominence. In the later ro 
 mance there are several brilliant sketches 
 of men of genius. The picture of Jean Paul 
 the Only, as a man and as a writer, is sin 
 gularly felicitous and just ; nearly as much 
 must be said for the chapter on Groethe. In 
 other chapters there are animated colloquies 
 upon the literary life, the miseries of authors, 
 the sanity of genius, and the proper sur 
 roundings of poets. 
 
 It may be necessary to say more plainly 
 that what is written of " Outre-Mer " and of 
 " Hyperion" has regard to the clear pro- 
 
72 HENRY WADS WORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 cesses of the poet s development in art, 
 rather than to any popular view of the 
 books as stories. Neither book is " popular " 
 in the ordinary sense. "Outre-Mer" is a 
 series of gay sketches and legends, done in 
 the easy manner of Sterne and Washington 
 Irving One sees it is the work of a young 
 man, an enthusiast for antiquities, fond of 
 archaisms and old-time quaintness. " Hype 
 rion " is more carefully constructed, more 
 elaborate, and at times somewhat over-elab 
 orate in style, and intended as a vehicle of 
 poetical ideas and descriptions, rather than 
 a fascinating romance to turn the hearts of 
 young ladies. The careful reader will value 
 " Hyperion" mainly for its many profound 
 thoughts upon letters and the literary life, 
 and for the view it gives of the poet s own 
 deep-settled principles and objects in his 
 chosen art. 
 
 Longfellow somewhere says, " The secret 
 studies of an author are the sunken piers 
 upon which is to rest the bridge of his 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 73 
 
 fame, spanning the dark waters of oblivion." 
 With this in mind we read with enlightened 
 eyes the account he gives of the studies of 
 his hero : 
 
 " Paul Flemming buried himself in books, in 
 old dusty books. He worked his way diligently 
 through the ancient poetic lore of Germany, from 
 Frankish legends of St. George, and Saxon Rhyme- 
 Chroiiicles, and Nibelungen-Lieds, and Helden- 
 Buchs, and Songs of the Minnesingers and Meister- 
 singers, and Ships of Fools, and Reynard the Foxes, 
 and Death-Dances, and Lamentations of Damned 
 Souls, into the bright, sunny land of harvests, where, 
 amid the golden grain and the blue corn-flowers, walk 
 
 the modern bards, and sing His thoughts 
 
 were twin-born, the thought itself, and its figura 
 tive semblance in the outer world. Thus through 
 the quiet still waters of his soul each image floated 
 double, swan and shadow. 
 
 He further says : 
 
 " In order fully to understand and feel the popu 
 lar poetry of Germany one must be familiar with 
 the German landscape. Many sweet little poems 
 are the outbreaks of momentary feelings ; words 
 
74 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 to which the song of birds, the rustling of leaves, 
 and the gurgle of cool waters form the appropriate 
 
 music." 
 
 Two paragraphs upon national literature 
 show upon what broad and sure foundations, 
 even at that early age, the mind and the art 
 of our poet were based : 
 
 " Nationality is a good thing to a certain ex 
 tent, hut universality is better. All that is best in 
 the great poets of all countries is not what is na 
 tional in them, but what is universal. Their roots 
 are in their native soil ; but their branches wave in 
 the unpatriotic air that speaks the same language 
 to all men, and their leaves shine with the illimita 
 ble light that pervades all lands." 
 
 " A national literature is not the growth of a 
 day. Centuries must contribute their dew and sun 
 shine to it. Our own is growing slowly but surely, 
 striking its roots downward and its branches up 
 ward, as is natural ; and I do not wish, for the sake 
 of what some people call originality, to invert it, 
 and try to make it grow with its roots in the air." 
 
 There is a pathetic interest in the conclu 
 sion of " Outre-Mer " : 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 75 
 
 "As I write, the melancholy thought intrudes 
 upon me, To what end is all this toil ? Of what 
 avail these midnight vigils? Dost thou covet 
 fame ? Vain dreamer ! A few brief days, and 
 what will the busy world know of thee ? Alas ! 
 this little book is but a bubble on the stream ; and 
 although it may catch the sunshine for a moment, 
 yet it will soon float down the swift-rushing cur 
 rent and be seen no more ! " 
 
 The little book might be " a bubble on 
 the stream," but the poems that were to fol 
 low were to have a popularity and a perma 
 nency in the minds of men which have be 
 longed to few works in any age. 
 
 THE HARVARD PROFESSOR. 
 
 In 1836 the career of our poet may be 
 said to have fairly begun. He came to 
 Cambridge and took up his abode at the 
 Craigie house, as it was then called. 1 It 
 was built about the year 1759 by Henry 
 Vassall, who lies in the Cambridge church 
 yard under a stone bearing as an inscrip- 
 
 1 See Drake s Historic Mansions of Middlesex. 
 
76 HENRY WADS WORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 tion only a goblet and a sun (Vas-Sol). 1 
 A house built by another Vassall is not far 
 distant on the same street. The first-named 
 house was occupied by Washington as his 
 headquarters in the beginning of the Revo 
 lutionary war, having been purchased by the 
 Colonial government. Afterwards it became 
 the property of Andrew Craigie, who had 
 been apothecary-general in the army and 
 wealthy at one time, but who was afterwards 
 sadly reduced in circumstances. After his 
 death his widow let portions of the house to 
 lodgers, and among them, at various times, 
 besides Longfellow, were President Sparks, 
 Edward Everett, and Joseph E. Worcester, 
 compiler of the Dictionary. Mrs. Craigie is 
 thus sketched by the poet Lowell, in his 
 charming essay, " Cambridge Thirty Years 
 Ago": 
 
 " Here long survived him his turbaned widow, 
 studious only of Spinoza, and refusing to molest 
 
 1 See reference in Holmes s poem, " The Cambridge Church 
 yard." 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 77 
 
 the canker-worms that annually disleaved her elms, 
 because we were all vermicular alike. She had 
 been a famous beauty once, but the canker years 
 had left her leafless too , and I used to wonder, as 
 I saw her sitting always alone at her accustomed 
 window, whether she were ever visited by the re 
 proachful shade of him who (in spite of Rosalind) 
 died broken-hearted for her in her radiant youth." 
 
 In 1836 Longfellow was under thirty, 
 and an eminently handsome youth. When 
 lie raised the ponderous knocker, and sum 
 moned Mrs. Craigie, it is no wonder that she 
 took the smooth -visaged stranger for an un 
 dergraduate or a divinity student. At his 
 request she showed him the house, and point 
 ed out the rooms occupied by Washington. 
 When he said, " This is a fine room," or 
 afterwards, "I like this also," she replied, 
 "Ah, yes! but you can t have it." And so 
 through the house, "Yes, but you can t 
 have it." She prolonged the negations un 
 til Longfellow asked the reason. " Because 
 I don t lodge students." " But I am a pro- 
 
78 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 fessor ! " That altered the case, and the poet 
 was soon installed in the room that had been 
 Washington s. This was the somewhat odd 
 beginning of a residence that ended only 
 with the poet s life. 1 
 
 The house and its occupants will be re 
 ferred to again; but it is proper to quote 
 here two passages from " Hyperion" to show 
 the deep yet tranquil delight which he en 
 joyed in looking out upon the broad land 
 scape that stretched southward and westward 
 from his new home. The opposite field is 
 still open to the river, but the view on either 
 hand has been cut off in later years by the 
 erection of houses. 
 
 " I sit at the open window, .... and hear only 
 the voice of the summer wind. Like black hulks, 
 the shadows of the great trees ride at anchor 
 on the billowy sea of grass. I cannot see the red 
 
 1 During her last sickness Mrs. Craigie one day sent for 
 Mr. Longfellow, and, remembering what her hrilliant attrac 
 tions had been, said, "Now that you have seen me a shriv 
 elled old woman, you will never marry ! You see what beauty 
 comes to at last." 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 81 
 
 and blue flowers, but I know that they are there. 
 Far away in the meadow gleams the silver Charles. 
 The tramp of horses hoofs sounds from the wooden 
 bridge. Then all is still, save the continuous wind 
 
 of the summer night The village clock 
 
 strikes; and I feel that I am not alone." 
 
 " I sit here at my pleasant chamber-window, and 
 enjoy the balmy air of a bright summer morning, 
 and watch the motions of the golden robin, that sits 
 on its swinging nest on the outermost pendulous 
 branch of yonder elm. The broad meadows and 
 the steel-blue river remind me of the meadows of 
 Unterseen and the river Aar ; and beyond them 
 rise magnificent snow-white clouds piled up like 
 Alps. Thus the shades of Washington and William 
 Tell seem to walk together on these Elysian Fields ; 
 for it was here that, in days long gone, our great 
 patriot dwelt ; and yonder clouds so much resemble 
 the snowy Alps that they remind me irresistibly of 
 the Swiss." 
 
 The house was much visited then and af 
 terwards by the curious, on account of its 
 having been the residence of Washington. 
 Mr. Longfellow relates that, not many years 
 
82 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 ago, a plain man with country garb and sol 
 emn manners asked to be shown through the 
 house. He went through the historic rooms 
 with but few remarks, and those were bu 
 colic in tone and style. The survey had 
 been completed, and the poet stood at the 
 open door to show the visitor out. " Much 
 obleeged ter yer," he said, with steadfast vis 
 age ; "and ivJw be yer?" " My name is 
 Longfellow." " Longfeller ? " said the man, 
 meditatively. "Any relation to the Long- 
 fellers in Woollich, down in Maine ? " " For 
 the first time," said the poet (in telling the 
 story), " I had a vision of the emptiness of 
 fame." 
 
 For seventeen years (and a little more) 
 Longfellow discharged the duties of his pro 
 fessorship. The place was by no means a 
 sinecure, as he was professor and chief of the 
 instructors besides. There were about two 
 hundred students, and an average of half a 
 dozen instructors (in French, Spanish, Italian, 
 and German), and he was expected to over- 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 83 
 
 see the work of all. He delivered lectures 
 upon the modern languages and literatures, 
 and the testimony of all his pupils is that 
 they were admirable and helpful ; they were 
 not specimens of brilliant rhetoric merely, 
 still less the learned dulness of a literary 
 annalist. His quick and poetic mind seized 
 upon parallel expressions and analogies, and 
 enabled him to give the thoughts of foreign 
 poets a fair and adequate English dress. 
 
 Mr. Longfellow informed the author that, 
 though his lectures were all carefully pre 
 pared, they were seldom or never written, but 
 were delivered freely in such words as came 
 to mind. 
 
 He commanded the respect and won the 
 regard of students to a remarkable degree. 
 He was never in the least familiar, but al 
 ways courteous, and retained his influence to 
 the last. Some of the most famous of Amer 
 ican scholars are proud to claim Longfellow 
 as their guide into pleasant paths. 
 
 Josiah Quincy, a venerable name in our 
 
84 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 history, was President of Harvard College at 
 the time Mr. Longfellow began his duties, 
 and remained in office until 1845. He was 
 succeeded by Edward Everett, the eminent 
 scholar and orator, who occupied the chair 
 until 1849, when Jared Sparks, the historian, 
 was chosen. Mr. Sparks resigned in 1853, 
 and was succeeded by Rev. James Walker, 
 who had been previously Professor of Moral 
 Philosophy. The member of the Faculty 
 with whom Mr. Longfellow was most inti 
 mate in their early years of service was Cor 
 nelius Conway Felton, Professor of Greek. 
 Professor Felton was born in Newbury, 
 whence the ancestors of Longfellow came. 
 Like Longfellow, he had won his honors at 
 an early age, having been born in the same 
 year, 1807. He was an enthusiast in his 
 chosen studies, and he accomplished much 
 in many directions, as the cyclopaedias and 
 bibliographies show. He became President 
 of the College afterwards, but his heart was 
 always divided between his beloved Greeks 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 85 
 
 and the men who were carrying forward 
 the literary work of the day. He assist 
 ed Longfellow in the preparation of "The 
 Poets and Poetry of Europe," and wrote 
 many of the sketches and estimates of au 
 thors. He was a frequent contributor to 
 the North American Review. He was one 
 of the original dinner-party of fourteen at 
 which the Atlantic Monthly was established. 
 On birthday and other decorous festivities he 
 always shone. Large in person and in brain, 
 with an ardent temperament, perfect good- 
 breeding, and unfailing courtesy, he was a 
 delightful table companion. His fuller, am 
 pler physical nature seemed to supplement 
 the more retiring, self-restrained manner of 
 his friend. The twin stars, whose combined 
 radiance is brightest, are generally of diverse 
 and complementary colors. 
 
 A fragment from Lowell s " Cambridge 
 Thirty Years Ago " will give a glimpse of 
 the genial Greek Professor. After quoting 
 one of Felton s stories, Lowell adds : 
 
86 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 " Grecian F. (may his shadow never be less !) 
 tells this, his great laugh expected all the while 
 from deep vaults of chest, and then coming in at 
 the close, hearty, contagious, mounting with the 
 measured tread of a jovial butler who brings an- 
 cientest good-fellowship from exhaustless bins, and 
 enough, without other sauce, to give a flavor of 
 stalled ox to a dinner of herbs." 
 
 The exclusive pursuit of scholastic and sci 
 entific studies is often a desiccating process ; 
 and the man who can toss the moons of Sat 
 urn for their avoirdupois, or discourse on 
 the Kritik of Kant, or annotate the Clouds 
 of Aristophanes, is often only an intellectual 
 machine. He may be the more perfect ma 
 chine for his self-denial, but he is so much 
 the less a well-developed man. Felton was 
 one who toiled furiously and long, and then, 
 when the time came, was a genial and cloud- 
 dispelling" talker, accompanying the wisdom 
 or wit of the company with a merriment fit 
 for Olympus on a holiday. 
 
 Another Cambridge Professor, Andrews 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 87 
 
 Norton, a friend of the great Dr. Channing, 
 resembling him in manners and character, 
 lived at Shady Hill, a fine estate not very 
 far from the College grounds. He was in 
 the Divinity School, but had always been 
 devoted to general literature, and was one of 
 the most accomplished men in the University. 
 His hymns are still sung in the churches, and 
 are among the few that have real poetic fervor 
 as well as Christian spirit. He was a con 
 tributor to the North American Review, and 
 was all his life engaged in useful and schol 
 arly work. The visitor to Cambridge to-day, 
 calling upon the son and representative of 
 the family, Professor Charles Eliot Norton, 
 finds a pleasant road leading him a furlong or 
 more towards the ample old-fashioned house, 
 standing among forest-trees upon a rounded 
 knoll. Like Elmwood and the Vassall-Long- 
 fellow house, it is one of the places of his 
 toric interest ; and the visitor carries away a 
 lasting impression of a very quiet but beau 
 tiful home, where the library, pictures, an- 
 
88 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 tiques, furniture, and manners belong to 
 gether, and testify to the taste and refinement 
 of the occupants. 
 
 At this house Mr. Longfellow was a fre 
 quent visitor, especially before his second 
 marriage in 1843, and was more intimate 
 with the family than with any in Cambridge. 
 
 SUCCESS. 
 
 The fame of Longfellow is the growth of 
 half a century, but his first volumes were de 
 cisive as to the place he \vas to hold. When 
 the "Voices of the Night" (1839) and " Bal 
 lads" (1841) had come to the notice of the 
 public, there was an impression as of a new 
 planet lengthening the twilight. There was 
 in the poems a soft radiance, serene and con 
 soling. All classes felt it. The philosopher 
 saw in their holy tranquillity and perfect 
 trust the equivalent for the best outcome of 
 his learning; and the hearts of the unlettered 
 poor were drawn unconsciously to the divine 
 harmonies that made them forget their sor- 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 89 
 
 rows. Whatever poetry had before this time 
 dazzled the world, it may be questioned if 
 ever in the same space there had come to the 
 hearts of men so many sweet and tender as 
 sociations, so many lessons of courage and 
 patience, so many consolations for the strick 
 en and afflicted. It is not solely their rare 
 poetic beauty, their melodious flow, their 
 perfect expression that charm us ; it is their 
 supreme and universal sway over the noblest 
 emotions. There is not one of the " Voices 
 of the Night" that is not familiar as house 
 hold words. The lines and phrases pass cur 
 rent in fragments of quotation. The ideas 
 and metrical forms are as unmistakable as 
 doxologies or proverbs. The solemn mon 
 otone of the " Psalm of Life" was heard 
 around the world. "The Beleaguered City," 
 "Footsteps of Angels," "The Light of Stars," 
 and " Flowers," have a spiritual as well as 
 an earthly beauty. They are a gospel of 
 good-will in music. It does not matter how 
 often they are sung or intoned ; it does not 
 
90 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 matter that the alert mind of the hearer flies 
 before the reader along the well-known, shin 
 ing track of the verse. These poems, and 
 others in the succeeding volumes like them, 
 are our heart treasures. We refuse criti 
 cism and comparison with the works of other 
 poets. They are our and our children s in 
 heritance. They are wholly without parallel 
 in our day in the quality of touching and 
 elevating the moral nature. 
 
 Upon these few and simple Voices and 
 upon the few striking Ballads the fame of 
 almost any poet might safely rest. They 
 must appeal with undiminished force to the 
 coming generations ; just as the vicissitudes 
 of this mortal life, marriage, motherhood, 
 death, though forever repeated, yet touch 
 each soul when its turn comes with a rapture 
 or an agony as intense as if the experience 
 of the hour had befallen it first in the his 
 tory of creation. 
 
 And these lovely Voices and stirring Bal 
 lads in one respect exhibit the finest qualities 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 91 
 
 of Longfellow s genius. They are almost the 
 earliest of the half-century of vintages, and 
 most racy of their native soil. 
 
 "The Wreck of the Hesperus" is deserv 
 edly admired, especially for the vigor of its 
 descriptions. It is in truth a ballad such as 
 former centuries knew and which are seldom 
 written now. Its free movement, directness, 
 and pictorial power combine to make it one 
 of the most remarkable of the author s poems. 
 Observe the force of this stanza : 
 
 " The breakers were right beneath her bows, 
 
 She drifted a dreary wreck, 
 And a whooping billow swept the crew 
 Like icicles from her deck." 
 
 Or this : 
 
 "The salt sea was frozen on her breast, 
 
 The salt tears in her eyes ; 
 And he saw her hair like the brown sea-weed 
 On the billows fall and rise." 
 
 "The Skeleton in Armor" is perhaps the 
 most purely imaginative of all our poet s con 
 ceptions. The various related pictures are 
 
92 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 done with clear strokes and finished . with 
 perfect art. It is the soul of a Viking that 
 chants, to the accompaniment of the shrill 
 north-wind and the ceaseless roar of w r aves. 
 The most consummate master of poetic art 
 could scarce change a line or an epithet. 
 
 There is good reason for dwelling some 
 what upon the qualities of the two thin vol 
 umes of 1839 and 1841, because they had 
 immediate recognition as the product of a 
 new force in literature, and because they il 
 lustrate within a small compass the qualities 
 of his genius and the mastery of his art. It 
 is far from the present writer s purpose to 
 attempt to conduct the reader through the 
 successive volumes with tedious and super 
 fluous comment. 
 
 An interesting reminiscence from the pen 
 of the late James T. Fields 1 may be prop 
 erly quoted here. 
 
 1 It is greatly to - be lamented that Mr. Fields had not 
 lived to write out and publish the many anecdotes of Long 
 fellow which had come to him during his long and intimate 
 acquaintance with the poet. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 93 
 
 u The 4 Psalm of Life came into existence on a 
 bright summer morning in July, 1838, in Cam 
 bridge, as the poet sat between two windows, at 
 a small table, in the corner of his chamber. It 
 was a voice from his inmost heart, and he kept it 
 unpublished a long time ; it expressed his own feel 
 ings at that time, when recovering from a deep 
 affliction, and he hid it in his own heart for many 
 months. The poem of * The Reaper and the 
 Flowers came without effort, crystallized into his 
 mind. The Light of Stars was composed on a 
 serene and beautiful summer evening, exactly sug 
 gestive of the poem. The Wreck of the Hes 
 perus was written the night after a violent storm 
 had occurred, and as the poet sat smoking his 
 pipe the Hesperus came sailing into his mind ; 
 he went to bed, but could not sleep, and rose and 
 wrote the celebrated verses. The poem hardly 
 caused him an effort, but flowed on without let or 
 hindrance. On a summer afternoon in 1839, as he 
 was riding on the beach, 4 The Skeleton in Ar 
 mor rose, as out of the deep, before him, and would 
 not be laid. One of the best known of all Long 
 fellow s shorter poems is Excelsior. That one 
 word happened to catch his eye one autumn even 
 ing in 1841, on a torn piece of newspaper, and 
 
94 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 straightway his imagination took fire at it. Tak 
 ing up a piece of paper, which happened to be the 
 back of a letter received that day from Charles 
 Sumner, he crowded it with verses. As first writ 
 ten down, Excelsior differs from the_ perfected 
 and published version, but it shows a rush and 
 glow worthy of its author." l 
 
 Two years later came " The Spanish Stu 
 dent," a play for the closet rather than the 
 stage, with a well conceived, if not wholly 
 original plot, natural and living characters, 
 and containing lines and passages of unmis 
 takable poetical merit. This appears to have 
 been almost the only diversion our poet ever 
 allowed himself, unless we except certain 
 scenes in "The Wayside Inn," and the frol 
 ics of the monks in " The Golden Legend." 
 Longfellow s was a bright, cheery, and lov 
 able nature, but he was never a leader in 
 mirth. His ready smile and quick glance 
 of intelligence showed how he felt the point 
 of wit ; but he was generally a pleased 
 
 1 Boston Daily Globe, March 25, 1882. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 95 
 
 spectator rather than an actor in such en 
 counters. 
 
 " The Spanish Student " is saturated with 
 the national qualities, and its perfect keep 
 ing shows how thoroughly the poet had 
 studied the popular traits, which remain so 
 quaint, picturesque, and enduring. It is a 
 gay and often brilliant picture of the man 
 ners of a remarkable people. It is a fair 
 complement to the high solemnity of Man- 
 rique s poem, and is likely to be long en 
 joyed; but it has not the invention, the 
 blazing wit, or the unexpected turns that 
 mark comedies of the highest rank. 
 
 ANTISLAVERY POEMS. 
 
 The " Poems on Slavery," published in 
 the same year, show Longfellow in another 
 light. In 1843 the public sentiment of the 
 United States, guided by politicians, cotton- 
 spinners, and bankers, was almost wholly in 
 favor of a great national wrong. To keep 
 
96 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 humanitarian ideas out of politics, to con 
 tinue manufactures with profit, and to bind 
 the people together in successful business, 
 leaving morals out, was the aim of legisla 
 tors and leaders. The voices of Channing, 
 Garrison, Jay, and Sumner were unheard or 
 scorned. The warnings and weighty coun 
 sels of Jefferson had been forgotten. The 
 Union was a pyramid whose lower strata 
 were crushed human hearts. The pulpit 
 and the press were silent, if not openly fa 
 vorable to the continuance of the nation s 
 shame and curse. 
 
 Longfellow published his poems, full of 
 indignant feeling, yet tempered by Christian 
 charity, and so gave the great influence of 
 his name to the despised cause. " The Slave 
 singing at Midnight" and "The Quadroon 
 Girl " produced a strong impression. But 
 the stanza most frequently quoted was the 
 last one of "The Warning." Read now in 
 the light of later events, it sounds strangely 
 prophetic : 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 97 
 
 " There is a poor, blind Samson in this land, 
 
 Shorn of his strength and bound in bonds of steel, 
 Who may, in some grim revel, raise his hand, 
 And shake the pillars of this Commonweal, 
 Till the vast Temple of our liberties 
 A shapeless mass of wreck and rubbish lies." 
 
 A man of Longfellow s quiet, scholarly 
 habits and refined taste could not have been 
 an agitator. The bold denunciation of a 
 Boanerges would ill have befitted his lips. 
 He would have felt out of place upon the 
 platform of an antislavery meeting. But his 
 influence, though quiet, was pervasive, and 
 it was a comfort to many earnest men to 
 know that the first scholars and poets were 
 in sympathy with their hopes, their prayers 
 and labors. 
 
 Among the most eminent of the Aboli 
 tionists was Ralph Waldo Emerson, and the 
 friendship between him and our poet begun 
 at an early date. Certain critics who would 
 like to disparage Longfellow have been in 
 the habit of applying to his verses an Em 
 ersonian or transcendental test, as if there 
 
 7 
 
98 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 were a natural antagonism between Cam 
 bridge and Concord. But this is a mode of 
 warfare that belongs to the subalterns : be 
 tween our poet and the great philosopher 
 there have always existed the warmest per 
 sonal relations and the most solid regard. 
 Between men truly great, however diverse 
 in genius, the narrowness that insists upon 
 likeness has no place. Upon abstruse and 
 especially moral topics Mr. Emerson was a 
 natural leader. He did not argue up to 
 propositions. He calmly announced them, 
 like a seer or prophet. Though Garrison 
 was the moving spirit of the antislavery 
 party, Emerson was the Nestor, the intel 
 lectual head of it. 
 
 Longfellow had been intimate also with 
 Dr. Channing, as his poetical tribute shows. 
 
 Another devoted friend, destined afterwards 
 to advance the standard of freedom, was 
 Charles Sumner. While still a very young 
 man, hardly one-and-twenty, he had pro 
 posed to himself a career, and had bent all 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 99 
 
 the powers of his active and powerful mind 
 to prepare himself for it. The preparation of 
 a " statesman " in later days is sometimes 
 of a different nature. Mr. Sumner was igno 
 rant of all the arts of politics. He merely 
 studied law, treaties, history, and ethics, that 
 he might fit himself to be a legislator. His 
 reading covered a wide field, and the knowl 
 edge he had was always at command. Per 
 haps his learning was sometimes oppressive 
 to himself, like the Roman soldier s outfit, 
 which got the name of impedimenta. Those 
 who took their learning at second hand 
 quoting from quoters considered him pe 
 dantic ; and it must be said that the time 
 for formal orations was going by, and the 
 time for actual debate had not come. It is 
 not likely that Demosthenes could turn a 
 vote to-day in the House of Commons ; and 
 Cicero would be badgered into confusion in 
 the first ten minutes of an exordium before 
 our Congress. Somewhat too stately and too 
 full of quotation as Mr. Sumner s speeches 
 
100 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 are, they are full of vital thought and en 
 ergy, and in their completeness cover the 
 whole field of argument. They and their 
 author belong to history. It was over forty 
 years ago that Mr. Sumner became an ac 
 quaintance, and then a friend ; and he was 
 for a long time in the habit of dining with 
 Longfellow every Sunday. The writer re 
 members frequently seeing Sumner s tall 
 figure, in a cloak, striding over Cambridge 
 Bridge, or riding part of the way, with knees 
 drawn up, in the long, old-fashioned coaches. 
 His face, which was naturally stern, had a 
 pleasant smile as he spoke of the anticipated 
 pleasure. Like the bottles in the poet s gay 
 verses to Agassiz, Mr. Sumner s smiles seemed 
 to say, " I am to dine with Longfellow." In 
 Longfellow s study Sumner s youthful por 
 trait in crayon, by Eastman Johnson, hangs 
 with the portraits of Felton, Hawthorne, and 
 Emerson, done by the same artist. How 
 young they all look ! Charming faces, with 
 no prefiguring of destiny in their calm eyes. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 101 
 
 The attachment was mutual- and -sm CBre, and 
 readers may see the expression of it in the 
 poem " Three Friends of Mine." 
 
 These friendships are merely touched upon 
 at this point to show Longfellow s clear re 
 lation to the anti slavery cause and to some 
 of its ablest and most scholarly representa 
 tives. 
 
 It is proper to add, that many of Longfel 
 low s poems had a profound purpose and sig 
 nificance not always suspected by readers. 
 "The Arsenal at Springfield" is one of his 
 most splendid productions, and by most it is 
 admired as a poem only. But it becomes 
 historic when we remember that Sumner had 
 lately delivered the great oration in Boston 
 on " The True Grandeur of Nations/ (July 
 4, 1845,) in which he inveighed against the 
 wickedness of war as a means of settling 
 national disputes ; and that soon after came 
 this noble, almost inspired poem, with its 
 vivid picture of war s desolations and its holy 
 prophecy of peace. 
 
102 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 e Down tue c!.ark .future, i lirough long generations, 
 
 The echoing sounds grow fainter and then cease ; 
 And like a bell, with solemn, sweet vibrations, 
 I hear once more the voice of Christ say, Peace ! 
 
 " Peace ! and no longer from its brazen portals 
 
 The blast of War s great organ shakes the skies ! 
 But beautiful as songs of the immortals, 
 The holy melodies of love arise." 
 
 HIS SECOND MARRIAGE. 
 
 " Hyperion," in some respects, gives the 
 history of the poet s inner life. Paul Flem- 
 ming begins his tour under the shadow of 
 a great sorrow. The wife of his youth, the 
 " Being Beauteous/ with her infant, lay in 
 the churchyard, and the husband and father 
 felt the bereavement with an intensity of 
 grief which only such delicate natures can 
 know. But after a time there was a change. 
 Grief had chastened the poet, but had not 
 left him in despair. He was still young, and 
 before him might be supposed to lie a long 
 road to be traversed, with new duties to be 
 done, new achievements, new hopes, and the 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 103 
 
 exceeding great reward of faithful love. In 
 this mood he met a lady who in the story is 
 called Mary Ashburton, and, becoming inter 
 ested at first, is in the end passionately de 
 voted to her. She is drawn with admirable 
 lines, and becomes a real person to the reader. 
 Her beauty, her accomplishments, her family 
 pride, all naturally become her, as an Eng 
 lishwoman ; and in her impenetrable reserve 
 we see a disastrous ending for the poet s ear 
 nest suit. 
 
 The original of this brilliant portrait was 
 Miss Frances Elizabeth Appleton, daughter 
 of Nathan Appleton, a distinguished citizen 
 of Boston. Her surviving brother is Mr. 
 Thomas Gold Appleton, a well-known au 
 thor and a connoisseur in art. She was in 
 deed possessed of every grace of mind and 
 person that could charm the soul of a poet. 
 Her remarkable beauty was fitly accompa 
 nied by a serene dignity of manner ; and it 
 may be added that, later, as a matron, she 
 was even more beautiful than in her fresh 
 
104 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 youth. With her children about her she 
 looked a proud Cornelia. Among the many 
 memorable persons who during the genera 
 tions dwelt in the Vassall house, the name 
 and lovely presence of this admirable woman 
 come first to mind. 
 
 The precise time at which Mr. Longfellow 
 met Miss Appleton is not important. The 
 romance was published in 1839, and it em 
 braces necessarily an antecedent experience. 
 The rejection of Paul Flemming s suit was 
 possibly true ; but it is known that, what 
 ever final decision Mary Ashburton in the 
 story may have come to, Miss Appleton 
 cherished a deep regard for her suitor, 
 and the intimacy gradually ripened into 
 love. Their marriage took place in 1843, 
 when our poet was in his thirty-sixth year. 
 He purchased the Vassall-Craigie house, 
 and from that time forward it was his 
 home. 
 
 Five children were the offspring of this 
 marriage, two sons, and three daughters. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 105 
 
 Ernest W. Longfellow, the eldest, is an emi 
 nent artist. Charles Appleton Longfellow 
 served for two years as a captain of cavalry 
 in our late civil war. Edith, the second 
 daughter, is married to Richard H. Dana, 
 third of the name, grandson of the poet and 
 son of the eminent lawyer and publicist who 
 wrote "Two Years Before the Mast." The 
 other daughters, Alice and Anna, remain at 
 home, and are unmarried. The three daugh 
 ters were painted in a group by the late 
 T. Buchanan Eead, artist and poet both, and 
 the picture is well known to the public by 
 engravings and photographs. 
 
 Of the exceeding beauty of the Longfellow 
 home much has been written. The reader 
 remembers the poet s reference to the former 
 majestic occupant : 
 
 " Once, ah, once, within these walls, 
 One whom memory oft recalls, 
 The Father of his Country, dwelt. 
 And yonder meadows broad and damp 
 The fires of the besieging camp 
 Encircled with a burning belt. 
 
106 HENRY WADS WORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 Up and down these echoing stairs, 
 Heavy with the weight of cares, 
 Sounded his majestic tread ; 
 Yes, within this very room 
 Sat he in those hours of gloom, 
 Weary both in heart and head." 
 
 The grounds are large and set with fine 
 trees, with open vistas intervening. The 
 children had a fresh country air and space 
 for rambles. The house is at a suitable dis 
 tance from the street, and there is an atmos 
 phere of quiet seldom seen so near a great 
 city. The poet had his rooms and his hours, 
 and while the family could enjoy their per 
 fect freedom, the size of the house and the 
 admirable domestic arrangements left the 
 master leisure and liberty to pursue his man 
 ifold studies and to fashion his poetical crea 
 tions. 
 
 In this as in many other respects Long 
 fellow was exceedingly fortunate. Poverty, 
 narrow accommodations, noise and illness, are 
 enough at times to disenchant even a genius ; 
 and many an aspiration has been stifled, 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 109 
 
 many a work of art injured in its progress, 
 by the annoying surroundings in which it 
 was wrought. So far as human power can 
 judge, Longfellow was in the best possible 
 situation for the development of his powers. 
 He had had the best training which was pos 
 sible at the time, and he had used every op 
 portunity ; he had never known the distress 
 of poverty or sickness ; he had been able to 
 accumulate rare books, and to feast upon the 
 art of Europe. 
 
 It has been previously mentioned that 
 Charles Sumner was a very intimate friend 
 of Longfellow, and it may be pleasant to see 
 the references in his letters to the happy 
 marriage. Writing to John Jay, at New York, 
 May 25, 1843, Mr. Sumner says : 
 
 " You will probably find Longfellow a married 
 man, for he is now engaged to Miss Fannie 
 Appleton, the Mary Ashburton of Hyperion, 
 a lady of the greatest sweetness, imagination, 
 and elevation of character, with striking personal 
 charms." 
 
110 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 August 13, 1843, he writes from Boston 
 to George W. Greene : 
 
 " You will find dear Longfellow married to the 
 beautiful and most lovely Mary Ashburton. They 
 were married on July 13. They will rejoice to 
 see you. They will linger among her friends in 
 Berkshire until Saturday, August 19, when they 
 will return to Cambridge, and she will commence 
 her life as Professorinn." 
 
 To Professor Mittermaier of Heidelberg, 
 Germany, Mr. Sumner wrote : 
 
 " You have heard of the happiness of Longfellow, 
 who is married to a most beautiful lady, possessing 
 every attraction of character and intelligence." 
 
 To Dr. Francis Lieber, Jan. 6, 1843 : 
 
 " You complain that L. s friends will spoil him 
 by praise. You little know the sternness with 
 which his friends judge his works before they are 
 published." 
 
 To the same, July 13, 1843 : 
 
 " I do not think it essential that the first poets 
 of an age should write war odes. Our friend has 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. Ill 
 
 a higher calling, and it is Longfellow s chief virtue 
 to have apprehended it. His poetry does not rally 
 to battle, but it affords succor and strength to bear 
 the ills of life. There are six or seven pieces of 
 his far superior, as it seems to me, to anything I 
 know of Uhland or Korner, calculated to do more 
 good, to touch the soul to finer issues ; pieces 
 that will live to be worn near the hearts of men 
 when the thrilling war-notes of Campbell and 
 
 Korner will be forgotten I would rather be 
 
 the author of 4 A Psalm of Life, 4 The Light of 
 Stars, The Reaper, and Excelsior, than of 
 those rich pieces of Gray. I think Longfellow 
 without a rival near his throne in America. I 
 might go further : I doubt if there is any poet now 
 alive, and not older than he, who has written so 
 
 much and so well Longfellow is to be happy 
 
 for a fortnight in the shades of Cambridge, then to 
 visit his wife s friends in Berkshire, then his own 
 in Portland." 
 
 POETS AND POETRY OF EUROPE. 
 
 For nearly two years Mr. Longfellow de 
 voted himself to the work of presenting to 
 English readers a view of the poetry of con- 
 
112 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 temporary nations. As was intimated before, 
 he was assisted by his friend, Professor Fel- 
 ton. This collection includes nearly four 
 hundred pieces, translated from ten different 
 languages. Mr. Longfellow wrote the intro 
 ductions, and made many of the translations. 
 Some of the latter are acknowledged, but 
 many of them are anonymous. Mr. Long 
 fellow said to the writer, that among many 
 narrow-minded persons the notion of a trans 
 lation was that of job-work, requiring no 
 original power ; and as he had published a 
 considerable number in former volumes, he 
 thought it not best to put his name to all 
 the versions he had made. He thought that 
 a certain kind of depreciation followed a 
 translator, and he did not care to give any 
 more occasion for ill-natured remark than 
 was necessary. It is to be hoped that 
 memoranda exist by which the extent of 
 our obligations to him may be known here 
 after. 
 
 Grammarians tell us that nice points in the 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 113 
 
 structure of sentences are never apprehended 
 by a student in any one language ; it is only 
 when two reflections of the same thought are 
 shown, as in a duplex mirror, that there is a 
 perfect appreciation of a stereoscopic effect. 
 Similarly it is so in poetry. To give an 
 actual equivalent of a great poem in another 
 language, with its weight of thought, its al 
 lusions, images, rhythm, and its after-sugges- 
 tiveness, requires a poet hardly, if at all, in 
 ferior to the original maker. 
 
 It was far from " job-work" to make the 
 noble volume referred to. Doubtless the 
 work had been in mind for many years, and 
 the pilgrim of Outre-Mer and the hero of 
 Hyperion had been silently accumulating the 
 wealth of materials. 
 
 THE BELFRY OF BRUGES. 
 
 A year later (1846) appeared two thin vol 
 umes of selected poetry, entitled "The Waif" 
 and "The E stray," now very scarce and much 
 sought by collectors. The proem to the first, 
 
114 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 " The Day is Done," &c., is perhaps as wide 
 ly popular as any production of our poet ; 
 and, with the exception of the comparison in 
 the. last lines of the first stanza, it is one of 
 great merit. It is a charming poem, sooth 
 ing in tone, full of noble images, and not 
 above the comprehension of average readers. 
 Musical people cannot but regret that it has 
 been so long associated with the vapid and 
 commonplace melody written for it by Balfe. 
 Probably no stanza has been so universally 
 quoted as the concluding one of this poem: 
 
 "And the night shall be filled with music, 
 
 And the cares that infest the day 
 Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, 
 And as silently steal away." 
 
 In-the same year was published "The Bel 
 fry of Bruges, and Other Poems," a volume 
 whose general tone corresponds with the 
 "Voices of the Night" and the "Ballads," 
 and which had the effect of widening the cir 
 cle of the poet s fame. Whatever may come 
 afterwards, the reader may surely pause here 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 115 
 
 to dwell upon these poems, confident that 
 nothing more characteristic, more full of de 
 lightful associations, is to come. The poet 
 has grown stronger, and paints with more 
 decisive lines. The pictures of Bruges, and 
 of Nuremberg, the mediaeval museum and 
 memorial of Albert Darer, are full of life 
 and color. 
 
 But the gem of the volume is " The Ar 
 senal at Springfield," a poetical complement 
 to Sumner s " True Grandeur of Nations," a 
 series of magnificent images wrought with 
 surpassing art. It is a poem of high rank, if 
 not the highest, and any great English poet, 
 living or dead, might have been proud to 
 acknowledge it. 
 
 " The Old Clock on the Stairs," in the 
 same volume, is one of the fortunate poems 
 which have become a part of the domestic 
 life and love of a generation. The " old- 
 fashioned country seat" in which the clock 
 stood was the house of the poet s father-in- 
 law, at Pittsfield, Mass. ; and the beautiful 
 
116 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 clock, which is now in the possession of Mr. 
 T. Gr. Appleton, of Boston, continues serenely 
 ticking, 
 
 Toujours ! 
 jamais I 
 Jamais ! 
 ton jours ! 
 

 A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 117 
 
 CRITICISM. 
 
 But it is time to consider some of the trials 
 as well as the pleasures of the poet s life. If 
 the friends of Longfellow were inclined to 
 spoil him with praise, there was a sharp cor 
 rective ready to be administered by Poe. 
 
 Although there is at present a feeling of 
 friendship between the literati of New York 
 and New England, there was a time, some 
 thirty or forty years ago, when there was 110 
 affection wasted. The beginning or new 
 birth of literature in America was nearly 
 contemporaneous in New York and Boston ; 
 although the earliest of our successful modern 
 authors was a New-Yorker. Before the days 
 of railroads there was far less intercourse than 
 now, and the two cities were for all purposes 
 as far apart as Paris and Berlin. 
 
 Longfellow, whose travels had been almost 
 always in Europe, visited New York seldom. 
 The reader remembers, doubtless, a very 
 large and singularly bad engraving, former- 
 
118 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 \j very commonly seen, entitled " Washing 
 ton Irving and his Friends." Among Massa 
 chusetts authors were represented Prescott, 
 with an inane expression, Holmes, a wretched 
 burlesque, and Longfellow, with a pleasant, 
 dandyish air and hyacinthine locks. These, 
 with Bancroft, Emerson, and others, were 
 grouped about the central figure, Irving, who 
 was made to look like a successful tallow- 
 chandler. It was a picture to put one in a 
 rage for destruction. Now in truth Longfel 
 low met Irving in Spain in 1827, while the 
 latter was there writing his Columbus, and 
 never saw him afterwards. There was al 
 ways a pleasant feeling, but no intimacy. 
 They did not happen to come together. So 
 with regard to Bryant ; Longfellow met him 
 about the year 1830, once. Afterwards, in 
 1836, the two poets met and had a friendly 
 conversation at Heidelberg. They never met 
 again. 
 
 It may be inferred that the lesser writers 
 of New York had seen Longfellow still less. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 119 
 
 So when Poe in " The Broadway Journal " 
 (also in Graham s Magazine) opened his bat 
 teries upon our poet, it appeared much like 
 a shot from a foreign camp. But it may be 
 added, that scarcely any eminent writer of the 
 last generation escaped an attack from him. 
 He cherished for Boston, New England, and 
 the North, a pure and quenchless flame of 
 hatred. He had certain theories of art which 
 he assumed to be axiomatic. He measured 
 modern poems by the classic mete-wands, 
 oblivious of the fact that English syllables 
 have no radical character of long and short, 
 and that any exact reproduction of the clas 
 sic metres is impossible. He declared that 
 a poem which could not be read at a sit 
 ting was no poem, a decision that rules 
 out nearly every production which the world 
 agrees to call great, His sense of melody in 
 verse was, no doubt, exquisite, and he pleased 
 himself so much with the satin surfaces of 
 things that the meaning beneath was of less 
 moment. If he illustrated metres or asso- 
 
120 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 nances, his own verses were often the chosen 
 examples. One can see that he petted his 
 own creations, and loved to turn them in va 
 rious lights to display their sheen. As an 
 instance of the possibilities of language he 
 used to quote in his critical papers, 
 
 " And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain," 
 
 a line for a sentimental milliner. 
 
 To show his temper and his sense of jus 
 tice a few paragraphs are quoted. When 
 Hawthorne s " Twice Told Tales " was pub 
 lished, a volume that no other living man 
 could have written, Poe said : " The fact is, 
 that, if Mr. Hawthorne were really original, 
 he could not fail of making himself felt by 
 the public. But the fact is he is not original 
 in any sense." Poe admits that there is a 
 sense of newness in Hawthorne, but says it 
 comes from an imitation of Tieck. He quotes 
 a passage from " Howe s Masquerade/ and 
 attempts to show that it was copied from his 
 own " William Wilson." His advice to Haw- 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 121 
 
 thorne at the conclusion of his review is 
 characteristic : " Let him mend his pen, get 
 a bottle of visible ink, cut Mr. Alcott, hang 
 (if possible) the editor of The Dial/ and 
 throw out of the window to the pigs all his 
 odd numbers of the North American Re 
 view." He recommends a new motto for the 
 North American, altered from Sterne : " As 
 we rode along the valley, we saw a herd of 
 asses on the top of one of the mountains, 
 how they viewed and reviewed us." He else 
 where mentions " the cultivated old clergy 
 men of the North American Review " ; 
 " that ineffable buzzard, the North American 
 Review"; and "the Fabian family, who live 
 (upon beans) about Boston." He has only a 
 sneer for Emerson, as an imitator of Carlyle. 
 His warmest words are for Amelia B. Wel- 
 by, a writer of a school that has passed away. 
 Mrs. Welby s verse was melodious, full of 
 bright adjectives and epithets, sweet, sensu 
 ous, and melancholy by turns, and about as 
 real as muslin flowers or a stage cascade. It 
 
122 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 was enough for Poe that her poems were ac 
 cording to the canons he had laid down. In 
 his own poems (it may be added) the super 
 ficial glamour and the tricks of syllabification 
 were the fleeting charm. In " The Raven " 
 there is no substratum of feeling. A man 
 who is really haunted by remorse would not 
 remark " the silken sad uncertain rustling " 
 of anything ; nor would there be any sugges 
 tion to such a soul in the iterated refrain, 
 
 " Quoth the raven, Nevermore," 
 
 This is not remorse, still less repentance. 
 There is not a line in the poem that might 
 not have been written by Mephistopheles 
 while waiting for Faust and Margaret in the 
 garden. It was the fashion forty years ago 
 to play sentiment, and nearly all the " poets" 
 of America were doing it, from Poe and Mrs. 
 Welby downward. 
 
 The weight of Poe s wrath fell upon Long 
 fellow. For an Ishmael, such as he was, it 
 was enough that Longfellow was beloved in 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 123 
 
 Boston, and that lie was becoming the most 
 popular poet in the language. If he had 
 been the sole assailant, the attack would have 
 been less formidable. But the views of the 
 extreme transcendental school were almost as 
 hostile as Poe s, although for different rea 
 sons. The transcendentalists thought they 
 had risen above the concrete into the do 
 main of the abstract, not to say the abso 
 lute. Poetry that dealt with the aspects of 
 nature, or with any outward affairs, was for 
 them an A B C book. For them poetry must 
 consist of sonorous enigmas, Orphic sayings, 
 sententious nothings. 
 
 But every true poet rests on the natural 
 world first. He may aspire, or soar at times, 
 but he cannot take upon himself the charac 
 ter and functions of a bodiless intelligence. 
 Somewhere between heaven and earth is the 
 poet s sphere. While mortality endures, its 
 natural incidents must affect all men, and 
 the poet most of all. But some of the tran 
 scendentalists were impatient with all those 
 
124 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 who did not bestride broomsticks and sail 
 away moonwards. Longfellow, though es 
 teemed by them as a man, was not their poet. 
 Their feeling against him was not expressed 
 in print, but of its existence there is no doubt. 
 The writer well remembers the current talk 
 among disciples of this school in Boston, in 
 1852, and afterwards. It is therefore not as 
 tonishing to read in one of Poe s diatribes the 
 statement that Margaret Fuller called Long 
 fellow "a booby," and Lowell "a wretched 
 poetaster." Mr. F. B. Sanborn mentions that 
 she called Longfellow "a dandy Pindar." 
 
 We will give a few specifications from 
 Poe s indictment of Longfellow as a plagi 
 arist. 
 
 He collates at length the " Midnight Mass 
 for the Dying Year " with Tennyson s " The 
 Death of the Old Year." But the reader sees 
 that the verbal resemblances are slight, and 
 every one knows that the personification of 
 the Old Year as a dying man is as old as 
 mankind. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 125 
 
 He quotes a scene from " The Spanish Stu 
 dent," and then one from his own drama, 
 " Politian," alleging that Longfellow had 
 copied from him. The only feature in com 
 mon is that in each scene there is a lady 
 with a servant, and that the lady s read 
 ing is interrupted by occasional comment. 
 There is not the least resemblance be 
 tween the passages, either in thought or 
 diction. 
 
 He avers that Longfellow stole from Bry 
 ant s " Thanatopsis " the closing lines of his 
 " Autumn"; that he took from Sir Philip 
 Sidney the saying, " Look into thy heart and 
 write " ; that the image of the heart s " beat 
 ing funeral marches to the grave " is from 
 Henry King, Bishop of Chichester. 
 
 Poe s review of "The Spanish Student" 
 contains a number of excerpts which are of 
 themselves sufficient evidence of Longfel 
 low s poetical power and skill. He there 
 upon proceeds to tear the plot as flimsy, and 
 to depreciate the general tone as borrowed 
 
126 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 from Cervantes, and he " regrets" that Long 
 fellow wrote it. 
 
 In the review of the " Ballads," he says 
 that Longfellow s skill is great and his ideal 
 ity high, but that his conception of the aims 
 of poesy is all wrong. Poetry, according to 
 Poe, is " the creation of novel moods of 
 beauty in form, in color, in sound, and in 
 sentiment." " If a thought can be expressed 
 in prose it is no theme for poetry." We can 
 commend these statements without qualifica 
 tion, and at the same time claim that " The 
 Village Blacksmith," "The Wreck of the 
 Hesperus," and "The Skeleton in Armor," 
 are eminent examples of " novel forms of 
 beauty" in all respects. 
 
 He objects to the translations, especially 
 to those in hexameter measure, concerning 
 which something is said elsewhere. 
 
 In the " Marginalia" Poe states the case of 
 a detected pickpocket, and then says, "It is 
 impossible, we should think, to imagine a 
 more sickening spectacle than that of the 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 127 
 
 plagiarist who walks among mankind with 
 an erecter step, and who feels his heart beat 
 with a prouder impulse, on account of plau 
 dits which he is conscious are the due of 
 another." 
 
 Elsewhere he says that Longfellow is " the 
 most audacious imitator in America." But he 
 makes " no charge of moral delinquency " ; 
 surely not, after the parallel with the pick 
 pocket ! With a sudden gleam of good sense, 
 he declares that " All literary history de 
 monstrates that for the most frequent and 
 palpable plagiarisms we must search the 
 works of the most eminent poets." 
 
 Emerson says that great geniuses are the 
 most indebted men. Burton in his " Anat 
 omy of Melancholy " speaks of writers " who 
 compound books as apothecaries compound 
 medicines, pouring out of old bottles into 
 new ones." The wisdom of mankind lies in 
 scattered sayings of far away or unknown 
 origin. " Art is long and time is fleet 
 ing " is from the Greek. Such fragments are 
 
128 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 the property of any man who aptly uses 
 them. 
 
 " Though old the thought and oft exprest, 
 T is his at last who says it best." 
 
 Milton s obligations to Dante, to Fletcher, and 
 others, are well known. The idea of the line, 
 
 " And aery tongues that syllable men s names," 
 
 is from Marco Polo s travels. He was a royal 
 borrower, but the gold he took was stamped 
 with his own image, and made his own for 
 ever. Shakespeare laid the whole world 
 under contribution, but what characteristic 
 line of his own could be imitated ? Scott s 
 most beautiful imagery came from the old 
 ballads he had been nourished upon. The 
 pretty couplet, 
 
 " E en the light harebell raised its head 
 Elastic from her airy tread," 
 
 is from an old poet. Some of the finest 
 touches in Tennyson are from Theocritus. 
 Lowell s happy simile, 
 
 " All ways to once her feelins flew, 
 Like sparks in burnt-up paper," 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 129 
 
 came (unconsciously, perhaps) from a play 
 ful sentence in a letter from Banister to Dean 
 Swift. But to multiply instances would be 
 attempting to give the history and pedigree 
 of poetical ideas and images. 1 
 
 In Longfellow s youth the treasures of 
 German literature might be said to have 
 been just discovered. The treasures them 
 selves, though rich and unique, are not old. 
 Longfellow collected the poetry of Europe, 
 translating parts of it himself; and it is natu 
 ral that his memory should have been stored 
 with the thoughts of congenial minds. The 
 talk of "receptivity" is nonsense. Every 
 man is receptive in proportion to his reading 
 and knowledge. Excepting Goethe, and per 
 haps Schiller, there was none of them more 
 original and suggestive than himself; and if 
 he borrowed, lie communicated as well. It 
 has been mentioned that he had been a stu- 
 
 1 For a large and curious collection of poetical imitations 
 and resemblances, see Disraeli s Curiosities of Literature, VoL 
 II. p. 260. 
 
130 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 dent of scenery and of historic incidents in 
 his foreign travels ; and his own reminis 
 cences, together with the memories of the 
 foreign poems which he had given to the 
 world, must have formed a wonderful store 
 of thought and incident for his own use. 
 Is not the world richer thereby? Is not 
 the poet himself more affluent, more full of 
 resource, possessed of more varied power? 
 In certain authors the individuality is so 
 strong that it is a limitation. Many a pop 
 ular poet has drawn all his inspiration and 
 devoted all his powers to the little spot that 
 gave him birth. Such poems may be full of 
 genius, and yet after a time pall by reason 
 of sameness. Who could endure a concert 
 in which every piece was written and per 
 formed in one key ? Laying aside other 
 data of comparison, it must be admitted that 
 there is not to be found in the works of any 
 other poet such a variety, both as regards 
 themes and treatment, as in the cycle of 
 Longfellow s poems. Of one we may say he 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 131 
 
 is intensely English, or that he is Scotch to 
 the marrow; of another, that he has the 
 soul of a Puritan, or the imagination of a 
 German, or the gayety and wit of a French 
 man ; but it is only of Longfellow we can 
 say that his genius disregards geographical 
 boundaries, is bound to the traditions of no 
 one race, and with universal sympathy has 
 dissolved and assimilated the poetry of our 
 time. He alone is entitled to be called the 
 poet of humanity. 
 
 Time has settled this controversy. " The 
 Kaven" and the few other poems of that 
 brilliant and erratic genius will be remem 
 bered, but his shallow and spiteful criticism 
 of Longfellow and Hawthorne will be read 
 only by the curious in literary history. It 
 has been often said that Poe was as great a 
 critic as poet, and there are passages in his 
 works which show great acumen and origi 
 nality of view. But justice is the basis of 
 criticism, or should be ; and a man of Poe s 
 temper and principles could never be just. 
 
132 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 He might deal fairly and tenderly by poets 
 over whose graves the daisies were growing ; 
 but he could not control his jealousy and his 
 sectional feeling with regard to prosperous 
 authors still living as rivals in public favor. 
 
 William Winter, whose youth was passed 
 in Cambridge, has given a characteristic pic 
 ture of the placid manner of Longfellow, 
 when conversing upon the same topic. Mr. 
 Winter says : 
 
 " For the infirmities of humanity he was charity 
 itself, and he shrank from harshness as from a posi 
 tive sin. 4 It is the prerogative of the poet/ he 
 once said to me, in those old days, 4 to give pleas 
 ure; but it is the critic s province to give pain. 
 He had, indeed, but a slender esteem for the critic s 
 province. Yet his tolerant nature found excuses 
 for even as virulent and hostile a critic as his assail 
 ant and traducer, Edgar Allan Poe, of whom I 
 have heard him speak with genuine pity. His 
 words were few and unobtrusive, and they clearly 
 indicated his consciousness that Poe had grossly 
 abused and maligned him ; but instead of resent 
 ment for injury, they displayed only sorrow for an 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 133 
 
 unfortunate and half-crazed adversary. There was 
 a little volume of Poe s poems an English edi 
 tion on the library table, and at sight of this I 
 was prompted to ask Longfellow if Poe had ever 
 personally met him, because, I said, l if he had 
 known you, it is impossible he could have written 
 about you in such a manner. He answered that 
 he had never seen Poe, and that the bitterness 
 was doubtless due to a deplorable literary jealousy. 
 Then, after a pause of musing, he added, very grave 
 ly, My works seemed to give him much trouble, 
 first and last ; but Mr. Poe is dead and buried, 
 and I am alive and still writing, and that is the 
 end of the matter. I never condescended to an 
 swer Mr. Poe s attacks ; and I would advise you 
 now, at the outset of your literary career, never to 
 take notice of any attacks that may be made upon 
 you. Let them all pass. He then took up the 
 volume of Poe, and, turning the leaves, particularly 
 commended the stanzas entitled l For Annie, and 
 4 The Haunted Palace. Then, still speaking of 
 criticism, he mentioned the great number of news 
 paper and magazine articles about his own writ 
 ings that were received by him, sent apparently 
 by their writers. I look at the first few lines, he 
 said, c and if I find that the article has been writ- 
 
134 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 ten in a pleasant spirit, I read it through ; but if 
 I find that the intention is to wound, I drop the 
 paper into my fire, and so dismiss it. In that way 
 one escapes much annoyance. " l 
 
 It is often assumed that the general judg 
 ment of the world may be relied upon as 
 sound. And this is true, if one allows time 
 enough for that judgment to work itself 
 clear. It took a century to establish the 
 rank of Milton, so great and so persistent 
 was the prejudice against him as a Puritan 
 and as Cromwell s Secretary of State. And 
 it frequently happens, upon the appearance 
 of a man of genius whose work is absolutely 
 new, that one man alone sees the new light. 
 This was the case with regard to Hawthorne. 
 Longfellow was not only attached to our 
 great romancer as a friend and college class 
 mate : he saw the unfolding of a wonderfully 
 poetic, sensitive nature, and the development 
 of a power in dissecting souls such as few 
 men since Shakespeare have shown. 
 
 i New York Tribune, March 30, 1882. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 135 
 
 When Hawthorne s "Twice Told Tales" 
 was published (1837) Longfellow wrote of it 
 thus : 
 
 " It comes from the hand of a man of genius. 
 Everything about it has the freshness of morning 
 and of May. These flowers and green leaves of 
 poetry have not the dust of the highway upon them. 
 They have been gathered fresh from the secret 
 places of a peaceful and gentle heart. There flow 
 deep waters, silent, calm, and cool ; and the green 
 trees look into them, and God s blue heaven." 
 
 " This book, though in prose, is written never 
 theless by a poet." 
 
 " Another characteristic is the exceeding beauty 
 of his style. It is as clear as running waters. In 
 deed, he uses words as mere stepping-stones upon 
 which with a free and youthful bound his spirit 
 crosses and recrosses the bright and rushing stream 
 of thought." 1 
 
 Boston then as now had its editors and 
 critics, but who of them saw the beauty 
 
 1 See the notice in "Driftwood," a collection of early 
 essays. 
 
136 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 which Longfellow so eloquently praised ? 
 Not five hundred copies of the book were 
 sold ; and indeed the genius of Hawthorne 
 was wholly in obscurity until the publication 
 of " The Scarlet Letter." Fame was sure to 
 come, for such a book could not be hidden ; 
 but its sudden popularity came from a very 
 singular and extraneous circumstance. In 
 the " Introductory," Hawthorne had sketched 
 with powerful lines some of the best known 
 citizens of Salem. It was admirably done, if 
 one could forget its apparent cruelty. Haw 
 thorne was smarting under the loss of his 
 office, which occurred when the Whigs came 
 into power ; and in the freshness of his dis 
 appointment he laid about him with vigorous 
 blows. The " Introductory " got into poli 
 tics, and was attacked and defended, and so 
 the book had a widespread and gratuitous 
 advertisement. 
 
 Suppose Hawthorne had died before writ 
 ing " The Scarlet Letter" ! Where would have 
 been his fame ? Where was the justice of the 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 137 
 
 general judgment ? Unpalatable as the fact 
 may be, there are few men living at any time 
 who are masters of a pure and lucid style of 
 writing, and almost as few who recognize it. 
 For the bulk of mankind the turgidity of 
 certain historians, or the slip-shod English 
 of the citizen who writes in the newspapers 
 on some emergency, is just as satisfactory as 
 the exquisite grace of Curtis, or the limpid 
 beauty of Hawthorne. 
 
 EVANGELINE. 
 
 If a plebiscite could be taken among 
 women in the English-speaking world, it 
 is probable that " Evangeline/ published in 
 1847, would be designated as the most at 
 tractive of Longfellow s longer poems. The 
 general account of its origin is, that Haw 
 thorne had heard the story upon which the 
 poem is based, and at first thought of making 
 it the subject of a romance, but, finding it 
 unsuited to his purpose, gave it to Longfel- 
 
138 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 low. The story is thus set down in Haw 
 thorne s Note Book : 
 
 "H. L. C heard from a French Canadian 
 
 a story of a young couple in Acadie. On their 
 marriage day all the men in the Province were sum 
 moned to assemble in the church to hear a procla 
 mation. When assembled, they were all seized 
 and shipped off, to be distributed through New 
 England, among them the new bridegroom. His 
 bride set off in search of him, wandered about New 
 England all her lifetime, and at last, when she was 
 old, she found her bridegroom on his death-bed. 
 The shock was so great that it killed her likewise." 
 
 Mr. Longfellow, not long before his death, 
 related to the writer the story as he remem 
 bered it. Hawthorne came one day to dine 
 with the poet, and brought with him Mr. 
 H. L. Connolly. At the table Mr. Connolly 
 told the Acadian story, just as Hawthorne 
 has noted it down, and some conversation 
 followed upon its suitableness for a romance 
 or poem. Hawthorne declared that he was 
 not drawn to it, and did not believe he could 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 139 
 
 make anything of it. Longfellow, on the 
 other hand, was greatly impressed by it, 
 and saw in it the germ of a pathetic idyl. 
 Hawthorne then said that he would waive 
 any claim, and that Longfellow was welcome 
 to it. 1 
 
 The scenery in the poem is generally ad 
 mired, but it may be surprising to know that 
 Mr. Longfellow was never in the Acadian 
 valley. Its beauty has been often described, 
 and the poet, who know so well similar land 
 scapes in Maine, had no difficulty in painting 
 an ideal background for his charming story. 
 
 After reproving Poe, 
 
 "Who talks like a book of iambs and pentameters 
 In a way to make people of common sense damn metres," 
 
 it would be an abuse of the reader s patience 
 to enter upon any critical discussion of the 
 hexameter measure. The way to enjoy the 
 poem is to read it in time with a musical 
 inner sense, but without any exaggerated 
 
 1 Mr. Longfellow thought (March, 1882) that Connolly was 
 still living. 
 
140 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 stress of voice. The csesural pause one nat 
 urally divines. It does not help in the least 
 to think of the 
 
 "Arma virumque cano || Trojas qiii primus ab oris," 
 
 for accent is the sole basis of English verse. 
 There is no " quantity." The obvious diffi 
 culty is in the want of spondees in the lan 
 guage. Whoever wishes to give examples 
 finds it necessary to use compound words, 
 and they are not many nor always poetical 
 in suggestion. English words of two sylla 
 bles are generally accented forcibly upon the 
 one or the other, and seldom are evenly pro 
 nounced. " Firm-set," " deep-voiced," " long- 
 drawn," such are the combinations which 
 the poet must use. And as for dactyls, 
 the ear is guided solely by accent. If the 
 line trips along, we must call it dactylic, 
 though the stockades of consonants would 
 have shocked an artist in Greek or Latin 
 hexameter. And the lines in Evangeline do 
 move with varying beauty ; they are usually 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 141 
 
 less spondaic than the classic models, but 
 they have an elastic, long-swinging move 
 ment, and well-placed caesura. Some lines 
 are strongly spondaic; as where the poet, 
 with a nice sense of the firm basis required, 
 mentions the trees, how they 
 
 " Stand like | harpers | hoar || with | beards that | rest on 
 their | bosoms." 
 
 The hexameter measure has seldom been 
 successfully employed in English, or in any 
 modern language : with the exception of 
 Goethe s " Hermann und Dorothea," "Evan- 
 geline" is the one conspicuous example. 1 
 And the art of Longfellow is exquisite in 
 suiting the measure to the sentiment of the 
 lines, and by fixing the caesura so as to de- 
 
 1 " The Bothie " of Arthur Hugh Clough is said by scholars 
 to be more like Greek in metrical correctness. 
 
 Coleridge has translated two fine lines from Schiller, in 
 which the measure is exemplified : 
 
 " Strongly it bears us along in swelling and limitless billows, 
 Nothing before and nothing behind but the sky and the ocean." 
 
 " Schwindelnd tra gt er dich fort auf rastlos stromenden Wogen 
 Hinter dir siehst du, du siehst vor dir nur Himmel und Meer." 
 
142 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 fend against monotony. There is nothing of 
 the distressing see-saw or canter in "Evan- 
 geline." Every line is musical in its own 
 way, and by contrast the beauty of every 
 passage is heightened and sustained. 
 
 The poem besides its perfect movement 
 has the indefinable charm of perfect keeping. 
 The tone is always dictated by the poet s 
 perfect sense of fitness. Lowell says : 
 
 " Had Theocritus written in English, not Greek, 
 I believe that his exquisite sense would scarce change a line 
 In that rare, tender, virgin-like pastoral, Evangeline." 
 
 All the world knows the pathetic story, 
 and most persons, it may be supposed, have 
 read it in haste, to follow the sad fortunes 
 of the lovely heroine. It is in reading anew, 
 and better after the lapse of years, that one 
 finds the evidences of the poef s power in the 
 descriptions of rural life. When the mind 
 has comprehended the pictures of peace and 
 innocence, the sights and sounds of the farm 
 yard, and the fervent religious character of 
 the simple-hearted people, it gives a sense as 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 143 
 
 of having lived in the fabled golden age. 
 One thinks of the landscape of Poussin with 
 its motto, Et ego in Arcadia vixi. The effect 
 of poetry is strongly cumulative, and the 
 power or beauty of detached lines is never 
 felt as it is when they are in proper place. 
 But a few quotations may be pardoned, if 
 only to renew old associations in the minds 
 of readers. The difficulty is in selection 
 among so many. 
 
 "Softly the Angelus sounded, and over the roofs of the vil 
 lage 
 
 Columns of pale blue smoke, like clouds of incense ascending, 
 Rose from a hundred hearths, the homes of peace and con 
 tentment." 
 
 " Homeward serenely she walked, with God s benediction upon 
 
 her. 
 
 When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite 
 music." 
 
 " Now recommenced the reign of rest and affection and still 
 ness. 
 
 Day with its burden and heat had departed, and twilight 
 descending 
 
 Brought back the evening star to the sky, and the herds to 
 the homestead. 
 
144 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 Pawing the ground they came, and resting their necks on 
 
 each other, 
 And with their nostrils distended inhaling the freshness of 
 
 evening. 
 
 Foremost, bearing the bell, Evangeline s beautiful heifer, 
 Proud of her snow-white hide, and the ribbon that waved 
 
 from her collar, 
 Quietly paced and slow, as if conscious of human affection." 
 
 " Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven 
 Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels." 
 
 " Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering 
 
 vapors 
 
 Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descending 
 from Sinai." 
 
 " Feeling is deep and still ; and the word that floats on the 
 
 surface 
 
 Is as the tossing buoy, that betrays where the anchor is 
 hidden." 
 
 Space must be given for two quotations 
 more, as they show the profound religious 
 convictions and piety of the author. 
 
 " The manifold flowers of the garden 
 Poured out their souls in odors, that were their prayers and 
 
 confessions, 
 Unto the night, as it went its way, like a silent Carthusian." 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 145 
 
 " Look at this vigorous plant that lifts its head from the 
 
 meadow, 
 See how its leaves are turned to the north, as true as the 
 
 magnet ; 
 This is the compass-flower, that the finger of God has 
 
 planted 
 
 Here in the houseless wild, to direct the traveller s journey 
 Over the sea-like, pathless, limitless waste of the desert. 
 Such in the soul of man is faith. The blossoms of passion, 
 Gay and luxuriant flowers, are brighter and fuller of fra 
 grance, 
 But they beguile us, and lead us astray, and their odor is 
 
 deadly. 
 
 Only this humble plant can guide us here, and hereafter 
 Crown us with asphodel flowers, that are wet with the dews 
 of nepenthe." 
 
 It was lately remarked that Longfellow 
 had fulfilled one important mission : at a time 
 when the world was in a ferment of discus 
 sion, and the old foundations seemed to have 
 been undermined, when the hopes of man 
 kind for the hereafter were darkened with 
 fears, when the very Deity had nearly dis 
 appeared in a haze of scholastic definitions 
 and doubts, it was for the poet to show the 
 
 true centre of gravity in the spiritual realm, 
 
 10 
 
146 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 seen by faith and reason alike, and holding 
 all souls by the attraction of love. 1 
 
 A correspondent of the New York Times 
 relates the following story as coming from 
 Longfellow : - 
 
 " I got the climax of Evangeline from Phila 
 delphia, and it was singular how I happened to 
 do so. I was passing down Spruce Street one 
 day toward my hotel after a walk, when my at 
 tention was attracted to a large building with 
 beautiful trees about it inside of a high enclosure. 
 I walked along until I came to the great gate, 
 
 1 This is a paraphrase from memory of an interesting brief 
 address, by Prof. G. Stanley Hall, at a Longfellow Birthday 
 Celebration at the School for the Blind in South Boston. 
 
 As creeds and philosophies decay, the poet has a practical 
 and needful task in giving such expression to the emotional 
 life as shall give poise and self-possession to the soul. Lotze 
 pities those who try to prove God, soul, immortality, or any 
 thing beyond sense, referring to the Gemiith as the only 
 worthy ground of belief. We see in Longfellow a poetical 
 view of the tendency of those who have said in philoso 
 phy that " the heart makes the believer," and that " religion 
 is a feeling," whether of "absolute dependence," according 
 to Schleiermacher, or of " absolute freedom," according to 
 Hegel. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 147 
 
 and then stepped inside and looked carefully over 
 the place. The charming picture of lawn, flower 
 beds, and shade which it presented made an im 
 pression which has never left me, and twenty-four 
 years after, 1 when I came to write Evangeline, I 
 located the final scene, the meeting between Evan 
 geline and Gabriel, and the death, at this poor- 
 house, and the burial in an old Catholic graveyard 
 not far away, which I found by chance in another 
 of my walks. It is purely a fancy sketch, and the 
 name of Evangeline was coined to complete the 
 story. The incident Mr. Hawthorne s friend gave 
 me, and my visit to the poor-house in Philadelphia 
 gave me the groundwork of the poem." 
 
 If there had been any doubt as to the 
 position of Longfellow among modern poets, 
 it was settled by the success of this beautiful 
 idyl. Its popularity was great among all 
 classes and in all lands. It was especially 
 admired in England, and was reproduced in 
 many forms. The artist Faed painted a pic 
 ture of the heroine, which was afterwards 
 
 1 Possibly the date is wrong, as twenty-four years before 
 Longfellow was an undergraduate at Bowdoin College. 
 
148 HENRY WADS WORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 engraved, and is everywhere known. It 
 represents her as she might have appeared 
 when, thinking of her lover, she 
 
 "Sat by some nameless grave, and thought that perhaps in 
 
 its bosom, 
 
 He was already at rest, and she longed to slumber beside 
 him." 
 
 KAVANAGH. 
 
 " Kavanagh " was published in 1849, and 
 proved to be the least popular of the author s 
 books. The story is slight, but pleasing, and 
 the few incidents are chosen and presented 
 with a poet s art. But the mild flavor of such 
 a novel hardly satisfies readers of modern 
 fiction, which has become of late so intense 
 and passionate. Many a classic would utterly 
 fail of success if it were new to-day. Im 
 agine the disgust at the circulating libraries 
 if there were to appear a counterpart of the 
 Vicar of Wakefield, or Paul and Virginia ! 
 The thing in " Kavanagh" which haunts the 
 memory of every writer is the procrastination 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 149 
 
 of Churchill, who, like Coleridge, imagined 
 works that were to be done ; books with gor 
 geous titles that were always alluring him 
 like the domes of Kubla Khan, but were 
 never made his own. An author sees in this 
 common experience how the petty cares, the 
 poverty, the narrowness, of Churchill s life 
 filched day by day his golden hours, chilled 
 his once ardent hopes, and confined him in 
 half involuntary inaction as in a prison, until 
 he was borne to the resting-place where there 
 is neither work nor device. 
 
 AGASSIZ. 
 
 The coming of Agassiz was an epoch in 
 the history of Harvard College. If this in 
 stitution is of late entitled to the name of 
 University, the beginning of the change 
 dates from the time when the great natural 
 ist became one of its corps of teachers. TJie 
 statement needs amplification. It is admit 
 ted, of course, that long before that time 
 
150 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 there were the post-graduate Schools of Law, 
 Divinity, and Medicine, and that the Law 
 rence Scientific School had been established 
 to afford a parallel Eeal-Scliule course for 
 engineers and chemists. The department 
 under the charge of Agassiz was intended to 
 furnish supplementary instruction in certain 
 branches of natural history. That of itself 
 would not signify very much ; it was no 
 single addition though many came to in 
 crease the number and scope of studies 
 that raised the College to its present position. 
 A second Divinity School was established 
 under Episcopalian professors. Music was 
 recognized among the liberal arts, and the 
 new chair was filled by one of the most 
 eminent of modern composers. A Museum 
 of American Archaeology and Ethnology was 
 founded by George Peabody. The library 
 grew, and its Gothic shell grew likewise. 
 Appleton Chapel, new and luxurious dormi 
 tories, the superb Gymnasium, and the mag 
 nificent Memorial Hall arose. The force of 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 151 
 
 professors, lecturers, and tutors was steadily 
 enlarged. 
 
 But the change was less in these visible, 
 material things, than in the general tone of 
 thought and feeling. It was the case of an 
 old-fashioned, quiet village becoming a city, 
 and taking upon itself the responsibilities of 
 municipal government. 
 
 Before that time single professors might 
 count for much ; and as positive forces and 
 centres of influence they continue to count ; 
 but the great increase in the numbers and 
 revenues of the College, and the coming in 
 of men of mark, combined to make a total 
 in which even the most brilliant specialists 
 were almost lost individually. Men spoke 
 less of the learned botanist, Gray, of the 
 mathematical Titan, Peirce, or of the ardent 
 Hellenist, Felton, but more of the combined 
 power and resources of the University. 
 
 The effectual realization of the ever-grow 
 ing plans of the College government was to 
 come later, under the sagacious and brilliant 
 
152 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 administration of President Eliot, a man 
 born to rule, being far-seeing and bold, yet 
 possessed of infinite tact and patience. We 
 have seen how Harvard Clubs have arisen in 
 the principal cities, East and West, with trib 
 utary zeal and loyalty to the Alma Mater. 
 We have seen how the locks of strong-boxes 
 have opened, as needs for new buildings and 
 new endowments have arisen. And now it 
 appears that no Boston millionnaire of lib 
 eral training can look forward to the quiet of 
 Mount Auburn, and to such an obituary no 
 tice as he would desire, until he has consulted 
 his solicitor and the President, and made a 
 bequest for Harvard. 
 
 All this is recent; but the influence had 
 largely begun during the time of Agassiz s 
 residence in Cambridge. He was a patient 
 student of details, yet possessed of the co-or 
 dinating faculty which gave him rank among 
 the great naturalists. But his power over 
 men came from his large and genial nature : 
 his was a sunny intellect, displayed in the 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 153 
 
 most sunny of countenances, and by the 
 most fascinating talk. There was no nimbus 
 of reserve around his clear soul. He had 
 known university life abroad as few Cam 
 bridge men had then known it. He had 
 come to honor in all seats of learning. He 
 had declined the senatorship and pension 
 offered by the French Emperor, and had 
 bravely chosen liberty (and poverty too, if 
 need be), on this side of the Atlantic. The 
 great-hearted if somewhat prejudiced and 
 grudging State of Massachusetts became 
 in a way his patron. The people were proud 
 of him and adopted him, and raised acres of 
 bricks to shelter his huge collections. He 
 became an American citizen, and as thorough 
 a Cambridge man as if he had the blood 
 of the Quincys, Nortons, and Wares in his 
 veins. He married the daughter of Thomas 
 Gr. Gary, an eminent citizen of Boston, and 
 so became brother-in-law to the Greek Pro 
 fessor, Felton. There was so much magnet 
 ism in his nature, so much power under his 
 
154 HENRY WADS WORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 charming simplicity of manner, that he affected 
 the Faculty as well as the students, and the 
 people as well as the savants. 
 
 It is difficult to show the full significance 
 of the change before mentioned. One feature 
 was the gradual secularization of the Univer 
 sity. A century ago a college professor was 
 invariably "the Reverend" so-and-so. A 
 clergyman, to be sure, may be also a chem 
 ist, astronomer, or philologist ; but the knowl 
 edge of theology is not a prerequisite for the 
 work of the laboratory or lecture-stand. And 
 the most devout reader will probably admit 
 that a faculty like that at Harvard, number 
 ing near a hundred, composed of men abso 
 lutely first in their respective studies, is able 
 to exert an influence upon the large body of 
 undergraduates which no purely clerical cir 
 cle could hope to equal. Truth, as well as 
 light, has been polarized in our times : and 
 though all truths bear a fixed relation, there 
 appears to be no need of filtering the exact 
 deductions of science through preordained 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 155 
 
 funnels, or of imparting a theological per 
 fume to eternal facts. 
 
 Religious liberty prevails at Harvard in its 
 purest form ; and though it is popularly con 
 sidered a Unitarian institution, yet a major 
 ity of its students, and probably a majority 
 of its professors, are not Unitarians. The 
 one word which expresses the attitude of its 
 teachers and the aim of the governing pow 
 ers is the ancient motto on the College seal, 
 VERITAS. 
 
 When Agassiz came to Cambridge, in 1847, 
 he found Longfellow in the height of his 
 activity and usefulness. A warm friendship 
 sprang up between them. They were at 
 tracted by similar tastes and by common 
 cosmopolitan culture. There was in the 
 Swiss-Frenchman a breezier manner and 
 more effervescence of humor, in the Amer 
 ican more attention to the minor amenities 
 and social forms ; but they agreed heartily, 
 and they loved each other like David and 
 Jonathan. Their diverse occupations estab- 
 
156 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 lislied a pleasing and restful counterpoise. 
 Longfellow would often take a look through 
 the microscope in Agassi z s laboratory when 
 at the seaside, and was deeply interested in 
 the investigations going on. Agassiz in his 
 turn enjoyed no recreation so much as an 
 hour in Longfellow s study where the talk 
 was of poetry and other literary topics. 
 Either at Nahant or at Cambridge the path 
 way to Longfellow s door was the familiar 
 end of his friend s strolls ; and a week rarely 
 passed in which they did not meet. 
 
 The group of "Three Sonnets" shows their 
 intimate relations. " Noel," a charming trib 
 ute in French, may be likewise referred to ; 
 but the most beautiful of the poetical trib 
 utes is that written on his friend s fiftieth 
 birthday, first published in the same volume 
 with " The Courtship of Miles Standish": 
 
 " It was fifty years ago, 
 
 In the pleasant month of May, 
 In the beautiful Pays de Vaud, 
 A child in its cradle lay. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 157 
 
 " And Nature, the old nurse, took 
 
 The child upon her knee, 
 Saying, Here is a story-book 
 Thy father has written for thee. " 
 
 THE SEASIDE AND THE FIRESIDE. 
 
 As we advance we are struck by the vari 
 ety and fitness of the metrical forms in the 
 successive volumes. Hardly any poet of our 
 age has produced so many styles of effective 
 rhythm. It is a common observation with 
 superficial critics, and with the English espe 
 cially, that Longfellow refined away the 
 strength of his lines ; and it is true of the 
 earlier poems, that the finish and the dulcet 
 melody are more remarkable than the ner 
 vous energy. But whoever takes the pains 
 to examine finds that many of his subjects 
 have been treated in bold, rhythmical forms, 
 and that the lines move like squadrons to 
 battle. Let any man of intellect and poetical 
 taste read with due attention " The Buildino- 
 
 o 
 
 of the Ship," and then write, if he can, of 
 
158 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 " lucent syrops tinct with cinnamon"! What 
 signs are there in this grand descriptive ode 
 of a refinement that has worn away the 
 nerve 1 The utmost directness and force 
 characterize every part. 
 
 The art that conceived and executed it is 
 like the many-sided art of the ship-builder. 
 We liken the two successes; and of each ar 
 tificer we may say, 
 
 " For his heart was in his work, and the heart 
 Giveth grace unto every Art." 
 
 " It is the heart, and not the brain, 
 That to the highest doth attain." 
 
 It is not only the technical perfection with 
 which the building and launching are de 
 scribed, although the successive scenes are 
 as vivid as instantaneous photographs; it is 
 not alone the pictures of the woods where 
 the almost human pines are felled, stripped 
 of their green glories, and dragged away for 
 masts and spars ; it is not alone the thoughts 
 of the beauty, mystery, and terror of the sea, 
 full of suggestion as they are ; all these are 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 159 
 
 parts, but the whole is more. The human 
 interest speedily becomes prominent. We see 
 the characteristic force of the old draughts 
 man, and the pleasing undercurrent of senti 
 ment in the nuptials of his daughter and the 
 apprentice. And meanwhile the skilfully 
 wrought analogy between the vessel and the 
 Union, scarcely suspected at first, grows, 
 page by page. As the work progresses, we 
 see what keel and what ribs are meant, and 
 in the blaze of patriotic feeling at the end 
 we see what momentous hopes are staked 
 upon the vessel, and what flag it is that flut 
 ters at the masthead. So, after firm touches 
 of description, with lively associations of 
 coming perils, with a light breath of love in 
 the sails, and with an overflow of sacred emo 
 tion that carries all before it, the noble poem 
 comes to a close. 
 
 It has been recited by professional read 
 ers, declaimed by schoolboys, and quoted by 
 preachers and orators, and still it remains 
 the freshest and most stirring of our national 
 
160 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 poems. It may be questioned if any Ameri 
 can audience (in the North, at least) ever 
 heard it without giving the inevitable tribute 
 of tears. 
 
 When readers come to the launching, they 
 do not stop to consider the depreciation of 
 the phrasemongers. The lines become alive, 
 and the breath of the hearer quickens : 
 
 "When the Master, 
 With a gesture of command, 
 Waved his hand ; 
 And at the word, 
 Loud and sudden there was heard, 
 All around them and below, 
 The sound of hammers, blow on blow, 
 Knocking away the shores and spurs. 
 And see ! she stirs ! 
 
 She starts, she moves, she seems to feel 
 The thrill of life along her keel, 
 And, spurning with her foot the ground, 
 With one exulting, joyous bound, 
 She leaps into the ocean s arms ! " 
 
 It is perhaps a ridiculous comment at this 
 point, but it may amuse readers to know that 
 the late Mr. Hillard, who had placed this 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 161 
 
 poem in a reading-book for schools, was re 
 monstrated with by a squeamish teacher on 
 account of the alleged indelicacy of the last 
 couplet. 
 
 The ballad of " Sir Humphrey Gilbert, 7 
 like " The Wreck of the Hesperus," is full of 
 the ancient vigor, such as it was when the 
 language was new, and custom had not worn 
 off the sharp edges of words. There is not 
 a particle of modern prettiness in any of the 
 firm-set stanzas : 
 
 " Southward with fleet of ice 
 Sailed the corsair Death ; 
 Wild and fast blew the blast, 
 And the east-wind was his breath." 
 
 Then we are told of Sir Humphrey : 
 
 " He sat upon the deck, 
 
 The Book was in his hand ; 
 Do not fear ! Heaven is as near, 
 He said, by water as by land ! 
 
 "The moon and the evening star 
 Were hanging in the shrouds ; 
 Every mast, as it passed, 
 
 Seemed to rake the passing clouds." 
 11 
 
162 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW, 
 
 To persons of impressible temperament 
 "The Fire of Drift- Wood" is full of poetic 
 association. The realistic opening, in the old 
 farmhouse by the sea, in sight of " the dis 
 mantled fort," and of " the old-fashioned, si 
 lent town," 1 disposes one to a sympathetic 
 attention. The depth of feeling in the sim 
 ple lines that follow cannot be paraphrased. 
 Two stanzas may be quoted : 
 
 " The very tones in which we spake 
 
 Had something strange, I could but mark ; 
 The leaves of memory seemed to make 
 A mournful rustling in the dark. 
 
 " flames that glowed ! hearts that yearned ! 
 
 They were indeed too much akin, 
 The drift-wood fire without that burned, 
 The thoughts that burned and glowed within." 
 
 In " The Fireside " will be remembered 
 the beautiful and touching " Resignation," 
 a poem that has been read with sacred tears 
 in countless mourning households. Memora 
 ble also is the thought of the " Sand of the 
 
 1 Probably Marblehead, Mass. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 163 
 
 Desert in an Hour-Glass." Observe the clear 
 aphoristic lines of the first stanza : 
 
 " A handful of red sand, from the hot clime 
 
 Of Arab deserts brought, 
 Within this glass becomes the spy of Time, 
 The minister of Thought." 
 
 This poem is very striking throughout, but 
 there is no way to condense it, or do more 
 than quote this specimen stanza. Others fol 
 low in this volume, remarkable for purity 
 of sentiment, and for the rare tenderness in 
 which Longfellow excelled all his contempo 
 raries. It is an almost angelic tone we hear 
 in them. 
 
 THE GOLDEN LEGEND. 
 
 In 1851 appeared this romance of the Mid 
 dle Ages, and it is safe to say that upon no 
 other work excepting the translation of Dante 
 did the poet expend more labor. But as 
 he subsequently gave a new arrangement, 
 placing this poem as the second in a tril 
 ogy, following the " Christus," and preceding 
 
164 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 " The New England Tragedies," comment 
 may be deferred until they can be consid 
 ered together. 
 
 In 1854 Mr. Longfellow resigned his Pro 
 fessorship, and, as is well known, Mr. Lowell 
 was appointed his successor. Longfellow was 
 still under fifty, in perfect health, and at the 
 height of his intellectual powers. But we 
 know that the income from his books had 
 greatly increased, and it was no longer neces 
 sary for him to go through the exhausting 
 labor of teaching. The salary of a Professor 
 at Harvard is one of the least advantages of 
 the office. A competent bookkeeper or head- 
 salesman in a Boston warehouse not to 
 mention the chef de cuisine of a fashionable 
 hotel or club gets better pay. Mr. Long 
 fellow naturally felt that in seventeen years 
 of service he had discharged the obligation, 
 if there was any, growing out of his early 
 appointment ; and he desired to give the re 
 mainder of his life to purely literary labor. 
 His relations with Lowell, only twelve years 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 165 
 
 his junior, had always been cordial. Elm- 
 wood, the home of the Lowell family, is but 
 a short distance from the Longfellow house. 
 
 Two persons more dissimilar could hardly 
 be selected from a circle of men of high rank 
 in letters ; but there were enough points of 
 contact in their common scholarship and their 
 individual genius. The friendship between 
 them was hearty; it was not the perfumed 
 and placid civility of society, the display of 
 which so angers a natural man ; it was a sim 
 ple, mutual liking. It is easy to see this in 
 the poems which each has written for the 
 other. We remember Longfellow s beautiful 
 " Two Angels," written on the death of his 
 friend s wife, and, later, "The Herons of Elm- 
 wood," of which we quote a stanza : 
 
 " Sing to him, say to him, here at his gate, 
 
 Where the boughs of the stately elms are meeting, 
 Some one hah lingered to meditate, 
 
 And send him. unseen this friendly greeting." 
 
 On the other hand, Lowell shows his 
 frank and manly affection in a stanza of the 
 
166 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 poem written for Longfellow s birthday, in 
 1867; 
 
 " With loving breath of all the winds his name 
 Is blown about the world, but to his friends 
 A sweeter secret hides behind his fame, 
 And love steals shyly through the loud acclaim 
 To murmur a God bless you ! and there ends." 
 
 HIAWATHA. 
 
 This poem was published in 1855. The 
 light movement of " tripping trochaics," if 
 sometimes monotonous, is fascinating to most 
 ears, and the staple of the narration is wholly 
 new, at least to readers of poetry. 
 
 Mr. Longfellow made a long and laborious 
 study of the works of Schoolcraft 1 and oth 
 ers, arid used the legends he found as a poet 
 should. That is to say, he built upon them 
 and adorned them with images and com 
 parisons from his own mind. The primitive 
 traditions might have been more or less strik- 
 
 1 "Algic Researches," and "History of the Indian Tribes 
 of the United States," by Henry Howe Schoolcraft. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 167 
 
 ing, but they undoubtedly gained somewhat 
 by percolating through the mind of School- 
 craft, and have been immeasurably raised in 
 character by the poet s version. 
 
 The Indians of the Northwest were supe 
 rior in mind and body to the native tribes of 
 New England, but not greatly so. The sub 
 stantial traits of the various tribes do not 
 vary much. The historian of New England, 
 with stern exactness, sketches the aborigines 
 as they were, and makes havoc of their sup 
 posed eloquence and of their traditions. He 
 says : 
 
 " In ballads, songs, or some other rhythmical 
 form of legend, most communities inherit some 
 kindling traditions of the past. The New England 
 Indian had nothing of the kind, nor of any other 
 
 poetry There has been a disposition to 
 
 attribute to the red man the power of eloquent 
 speech. Never was a reputation so cheaply earned. 
 A few allusions to familiar appearances in nature, 
 and to habits of animals, constitute nearly all his 
 topics for oratorical illustration. Take away his 
 commonplaces of the mountain and the thunder, 
 
168 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 the sunset and the waterfall, the eagle and the 
 buffalo, the burying of the hatchet, the smoking 
 of the calumet, and the lighting of the council-fire, 
 and the material for his pomp of words is reduced 
 
 within contemptible dimensions 
 
 " As to traditionary legends, the beautiful verse 
 of Longfellow does but robe their beggarly mean 
 ness in cloth of gold. Of what they owe to that 
 exquisite poet it is easy to satisfy one s self by col 
 lating the raw material of his work, as it stands in 
 such authorities as Heckewelder and Schoolcraft. 
 The results of the Algic Researches are a col 
 lection of the most vapid and stupid compositions 
 that ever disappointed a laborious curiosity ; but 
 they were the best collection that, under the most 
 favorable circumstances, was to be made in that 
 quarter. Yet even of such poor products as these 
 the mind of the native of New England was 
 barren." l 
 
 So much for the material of the poem. In 
 form it follows the measure of the Finnish 
 epic, the " Kalevala," and like that poem, 
 and like the Hebrew poetry also, it makes 
 constant use of the parallelism, or repetitions, 
 
 1 Palfrey s History of New England, Vol. I. p. 33 et seq. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 169 
 
 which are so characteristic. One is surprised 
 when certain critics mention Longfellow s 
 adopting this measure as an imitation. By 
 this rule every poem of our time must come 
 under the same reproach. No vitally new 
 metres have been invented for centuries. A 
 poet takes the metre which he considers best 
 adapted to his purpose. The parallelism is 
 naturally employed, since it belongs to almost 
 all the attempts at poetry in the early ages 
 of the world. 
 
 But the resemblance to the " Kalevala " 
 goes somewhat farther, and it appears likely 
 that some dim remembrances of its more 
 striking passages rested in the poet s mind. 
 In the Indian legend, Wenonah, daughter of 
 Nokomis (who fell from the moon before 
 giving birth to her), bears a son, Hiawatha, 
 to the West- Wind, Mudjekeewis. In the 
 Finnish legend, the daughter of air descends 
 into the sea, and there, made pregnant by the 
 wind and waves, bears Wainamoinen, the 
 hero of the " Kalevala." 
 
170 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 Hiawatha fasts seven days and prays God 
 for the good of his people, and maize is given 
 them in answer to his prayer. 
 
 Wainamoinen sows barley, the earth 
 having borne fruit and flowers before, but 
 no grain, and prays to God (Ukko) for a 
 harvest, and his prayer is answered. 
 
 The most striking resemblance, however, 
 is in the description of the building of Hia 
 watha s boat. The reader remembers the 
 passage, beginning thus : 
 
 " Give me of your bark, O Birch-Tree ! 
 Of your yellow bark, Birch-Tree ! 
 Growing by the rushing river, 
 Tall and stately in the valley i 
 I a light canoe will build me, 
 Build a swift Cheemaun for sailing, 
 That shall float upon the river, 
 Like a yellow leaf in Autumn, 
 Like a yellow water-lily ! " 
 
 Hiawatha, we see, asks the trees for their 
 wood, bark, resin, &c., and they speak to him 
 in reply. Wainamoinen sends a man to cut 
 wood for a boat, who likewise addresses the 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 171 
 
 trees and receives answers from them. The 
 addresses and answers are, however, quite 
 different from those in " Hiawatha." 
 
 Here are the addresses to the oak and the 
 aspen as given in the " Kalevala." They have 
 been purposely cast into Longfellow s meas 
 ure and manner, as well as the paucity of the 
 original ideas would allow. 1 The repetitions 
 in the " Kalevala" are distressing to the mod 
 ern reader, and the lines are difficult to ren 
 der and preserve their primitive tone. 
 
 " Then the oak he questioned, saying, 
 4 Wouldst thou serve, indeed, Oak-tree, 
 For the skiff as mother timber, 
 For the keelson of a war-boat ? 
 Wisely answered the Oak-tree, 
 Gave to him these words in answer : 
 Yes, in truth, to make a boat-keel 
 I have store of wood in plenty. 
 Thou canst find in my tall column 
 No defects, no holes, nor wind-rifts. 
 Three times in this very summer, 
 In the warmest summer season, 
 Through my leaves the sun hath wandered, 
 
 1 Translated by L. U. for this work, from the German ver 
 sion, Hamburg, 1855. 
 
172 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 On my crown the moon hath shined. 
 In my branches called the cuckoo, 
 In my high boughs birds have rested. 7 
 
 " Then he wished to strike the aspen, 
 And to fell it with his hatchet. 
 But these words the tree spake to him, 
 Spake herself, all breathless, eager : 
 Man what is it that thou seekest ? 
 What desirest to take from me? 
 Then did Sampsa Pellerwoinen 
 Give, himself, these words in answer : 
 This I want ; t is this I search for : 
 Frame of boat for Wainamdinen, 
 For the singer s skiff some timber. 
 Then most strangely spake the aspen, 
 Cried aloud the hundred-branched one," etc. 
 
 This is the whole. A diligent search 
 through the epic failed to discover another 
 parallel mythus. The obligation of Longfel 
 low to the "Kalevala" is small, less than 
 the obligations of many a poet. It is the 
 prerogative of genius to build upon hints and 
 suggestions. The poet, like the composer, 
 finds many of his happiest melodies. How 
 ever sacred the myths of " Kalevala may 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 173 
 
 be to antiquaries, they are, like those of the 
 Scandinavian Edda, mostly absurd, trivial, 
 or monstrous. Taking the Indian tales as he 
 found them, casting them in the easy meas 
 ure of the Finnish epic, adopting the paral 
 lelism which was once almost universal, and 
 with some hints in mind of which he was 
 probably unconscious, Longfellow has built 
 up a structure that is truly poetic, and as 
 truly his own. In his hands the story 
 becomes at once strong and delicate. The 
 thought is lifted up and illuminated. The 
 wigwam becomes a palace, and the Indian is 
 ennobled. 
 
 There is another curious felicity, that 
 while as a mere story " Hiawatha" delights 
 the unlearned, it has an inner beauty for 
 those who know what poetry really is. This 
 subtile and impalpable quality is shown in 
 many passages, wherein the words are sim 
 ple, and their collocation in no wise unu 
 sual. The poetry is suggested rather than 
 expressed. When Hiawatha had struggled 
 
174 HENRY WADS WORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 with Mondamin, a demigod or superior be 
 ing, he 
 
 " Only saw that he had vanished, 
 Leaving him alone and fainting, 
 With the misty lake below him, 
 And the reeling stars above him." 
 
 When Mondamin appeared again, he 
 
 " Came as silent as the dew conies, 
 From the empty air appearing, 
 Into empty air returning, 
 Taking shape when earth it touches, 
 But invisible to all men 
 In its coming and its going." 
 
 Among the specially beautiful passages 
 may be cited the last paragraph of the in 
 troduction : 
 
 "Ye, who sometimes, in your rambles 
 Through the green lanes of the country, 
 Where the tangled barberry-bushes 
 Hang their tufts of crimson berries 
 Over stone walls gray with mosses, 
 Pause by some neglected graveyard, 
 For a while to muse, and ponder 
 On a half-effaced inscription, 
 Written with little skill of song-craft, 
 Homely phrases, but each letter 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 175 
 
 Full of hope and yet of heart-break, 
 Full of all the tender pathos 
 Of the Here and the Hereafter ; 
 Stay and read this rude inscription, 
 Read this Song of Hiawatha ! " 
 
 Observe Hiawatha going for the first time 
 into the forest : 
 
 "Forth into the forest straightway 
 All alone walked Hiawatha 
 Proudly, with his bow and arrows ; 
 And the birds sang round him, o er him, 
 
 * Do not shoot us, Hiawatha ! 
 Sang the robin, the Opechee, 
 Sang the bluebird, the Owaissa, 
 
 * Do not shoot us, Hiawatha ! 
 
 " Up the oak-tree, close beside him, 
 Sprang the squirrel, Adjidaumo, 
 In and out among the branches, 
 Coughed and chattered from the oak-tree, 
 Laughed, and said between his laughing, 
 Do not shoot me, Hiawatha ! 
 
 " Hidden in the alder-bushes, 
 There he waited till the deer came, 
 Till he saw two antlers lifted, 
 Saw two eyes look from the thicket, 
 Saw two nostrils point to windward, 
 And a deer came down the pathway, 
 Flecked with leafy light and shadow. 
 
176 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 And his heart within him fluttered, 
 Trembled like the leaves above him, 
 Like the birch-leaf palpitated, 
 As the deer came down the pathway." 
 
 The account of Hiawatha s fishing will be 
 remembered, full as it is of brilliant, palpitat 
 ing lines : 
 
 " On the white sand of the bottom 
 Lay the monster Mishe-Nahma, 
 Lay the sturgeon, King of Fishes ; 
 Through his gills lie breathed the water, 
 With his fins he fanned and winnowed, 
 With his tail he swept the sand-floor. 
 
 "There he lay in all his armor; 
 On each side a shield to guard him, 
 Plates of bone upon his forehead, 
 Down his sides and back and shoulders 
 Plates of bone with spines projecting ! 
 Painted was he with his war-paints, 
 Stripes of yellow, red, and azure, 
 Spots of brown and spots of sable ; 
 And he lay there on the bottom, 
 Fanning with his fins of purple, 
 As above him Hiawatha 
 In his birch canoe came sailing, 
 With his fishing line of cedar. 
 
 " Slowly upward, wavering, gleaming, 
 Kose the Ugudwash, the sun-fish, 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 177 
 
 Seized the line of Hiawatha, 
 Swung with all his weight upon it, 
 Made a whirlpool in the water, 
 Whirled the birch canoe in circles, 
 Round and round in gurgling eddies, 
 Till the circles in the water 
 Reached the far-off sandy beaches, 
 Till the water-flags and rushes 
 Nodded on the distant margins." 
 
 The aphorism which prefaces " Hiawatha s 
 Wooing " deserves quotation : 
 
 "As unto the bow the cord is, 
 So unto the man is woman, 
 Though she bends him, she obeys him, 
 Though she draws him, yet she follows, 
 Useless each without the other ! " 
 
 The dancing of Pau-Puk-Keewis is de 
 scribed with light and airy grace, but the 
 passage is too long to be inserted here. 
 
 The singer, Chibiabos, is a beautiful crea 
 tion, on which our poet has almost exhausted 
 his infinite tender sentiment : 
 
 "Most beloved by Hiawatha 
 Was the gentle Chibiabos, 
 He the best of all musicians, 
 He the sweetest of all singers. 
 12 
 
178 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 Beautiful and childlike was he, 
 Brave as man is, soft as woman, 
 Pliant as a wand of willow, 
 Stately as a deer with antlers. 
 
 " All the many sounds of nature 
 Borrowed sweetness from his singing; 
 All the hearts of men were softened 
 By the pathos of his music ; 
 For he sang of peace and freedom, 
 Sang of beauty, love, and longing ; 
 Sang of death, and life undying 
 In the Islands of the Blessed, 
 In the kingdom of Ponemah, 
 In the land of the Hereafter." 
 
 His artless love-song at the wedding of 
 Hiawatha lingers in the memory. And 
 when, later,, the gentle musician dies, the 
 whole forest world joins in the lament : 
 
 " He is dead, the sweet musician ! 
 He the sweetest of all singers! 
 He has gone from us forever, 
 He has moved a little nearer 
 To the Master of all music, 
 To the Master of all singing ! 
 my brother, Chibiabos ! 
 
 "And the melancholy fir-trees 
 Waved their dark green fans above him, 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 179 
 
 Waved their purple cones above him, 
 Sighing with him to console him, 
 Mingling with his lamentation 
 Their complaining, their lamenting. 
 
 " Came the Spring, and all the forest 
 Looked in vain for Chibiabos ; 
 Sighed the rivulet, Sebowisha, 
 Sighed the rushes in the meadow. 
 
 "From the tree-tops sang the bluebird, 
 Sang the bluebird, the Owaissa, 
 Chibiabos ! Chibiabos ! 
 He is dead, the sweet musician! 
 
 "From the wigwam sang the robin, 
 Sang the robin, the Opechee, 
 Chibiabos! Chibiabos! 
 He is dead, the sweetest singer ! 
 
 "And at night through all the forest 
 Went the whippoorwill complaining, 
 Wailing went the Wawonaissa, 
 * Chibiabos ! Chibiabos ! 
 He is dead, the sweet musician ! 
 He the sweetest of all singers! " 
 
 Of all the touching passages in Longfel 
 low s poems this monody for Chibiabos will 
 be hereafter most affectionately recalled, 
 when men think of the voice that is now 
 hushed forever. 
 
 " Hiawatha" was a novelty, both as regards 
 
180 HENRY WADS WORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 subject and form, and few men are able to 
 judge of an entirely new species of compo 
 sition off-hand. The poem was praised and 
 ridiculed, and the feeling pro and con be 
 came intense. As we know now that the 
 poem is one of Longfellow s best, it will be 
 more entertaining, perhaps, to see what was 
 said by those who disliked or failed to ap 
 preciate it. We copy the pith of an article 
 from the Daily Traveller l of Boston : 
 
 "We cannot deny that the spirit of poesy 
 breathes throughout the work, .... but we can 
 not but express our regret that our own pet na 
 tional poet [sic] should not have selected as the 
 theme of his muse something higher and better 
 than the silly legends of the savage aborigines. 
 His poem does not awaken one sympathetic throb ; 
 it does not teach a single truth ; and, rendered into 
 prose, Hiawatha would be a mass of the most child 
 ish nonsense that ever dropped from human pen. 
 In verse it contains nothing so precious as the 
 golden time which would be lost in the reading 
 
 of it." 
 
 1 November 20, 1855. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 181 
 
 The publishers, Messrs. Ticknor and Fields, 
 retorted by a curt note to the Traveller, with 
 drawing their advertisements, and asking to 
 have the paper stopped. 
 
 The Traveller responded by copying the 
 rather hasty note, and charging the publish 
 ers with attempting to influence the press, 
 making their advertising patronage depend 
 upon favorable opinions of new books. 
 
 This created no small stir; and as the 
 poem- at the same time was attacked on 
 other grounds, the newspapers from the At 
 lantic to the Mississippi were soon engaged 
 in a general controversy. Through all this 
 storm Mr. Longfellow remained calm, pay 
 ing no attention to assailants or defenders. 
 It is said that Mr. Fields one day hurried 
 off to Cambridge in a state of great excite 
 ment, that morning s mail having brought 
 an unusually large batch of attacks and par 
 odies, some of the charges being, he con 
 sidered, of a seriously damaging character. 
 u My dear Mr. Longfellow," he exclaimed, 
 
182 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 bursting into the poet s study, " these atro 
 cious libels must be stopped." Longfellow 
 glanced over the papers without comment. 
 Handing them back, he quietly asked, " By 
 the way, Fields, how is i Hiawatha selling!" 
 " Wonderfully !" replied the excited pub 
 lisher; "none of your books has ever had 
 such a sale." " Then/ said the poet calmly, 
 " I think we had better let these people go 
 on advertising it." 1 
 
 THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY. 
 
 After the publication of " Hiawatha," there 
 appears to have been an interval of quiet. 
 It is not likely that the poet s pen was idle, 
 although his motto as to his work must have 
 been always " Without haste," as well as 
 " Without rest" ; but there was a period dur 
 ing which few poems appeared. The public 
 bought immense numbers of volumes, but 
 the magazines were not, as now, the munifi 
 cent patrons of poetry and art, Something 
 
 1 Correspondence of Cleveland (Ohio) Herald. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 183 
 
 has been already said of the Knickerbocker 
 and the Philadelphia magazines. Putnam s 
 Monthly had a comparatively short, but bril 
 liant and honorable career; of the purely 
 literary magazines still existing, we can re 
 member only Harper s that was successful 
 then. But in 1857, and before that time, 
 Harper s was largely filled with copied arti 
 cles, and neither that nor any other literary 
 periodical was an outspoken organ of opinion. 
 It was then supposed necessary to avoid con 
 troverted topics, and epicene literature was 
 mostly in vogue. Writers and thinkers might 
 deplore this, but publishers were timid, and 
 kept a weather eye open to watch the vanes 
 of public opinion. 
 
 The Atlantic Monthly was started with the 
 definite purpose of concentrating the efforts 
 of the best writers upon literature and poli 
 tics, under the light of the highest morals. 
 Mr. Longfellow was one of the first persons 
 consulted, and gave his hearty approval to 
 the plan. The success of the new magazine 
 
184 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 is historical. There seemed to have been a 
 wonderful accumulation of fascinating arti 
 cles waiting for an outlet. The chief honor 
 belongs to Holmes, whose " Autocrat of the 
 Breakfast Table " was perhaps the most bril 
 liant series of papers in our time, on either 
 side the Atlantic. Much was due to the es 
 says, poems, and skilful leadership of Lowell, 
 and to the great name and characteristic 
 verses of Emerson. And when Longfellow, 
 generally admitted to be the chief of Amer 
 ican poets, contributed a poem to nearly 
 every number, the public had an assurance 
 that the new magazine contained the best re 
 sults of American authorship. Among the 
 many beautiful poems of Longfellow in the 
 Atlantic may be mentioned " Sandalphon," 
 "Santa Filomena," "The Golden Milestone," 
 "Catawba Wine," "The Birds of Killing- 
 worth," " The Children s Hour," " Paul Re- 
 vere s Ride," and " The Bells of Lynn." The 
 number of his contributions was large, and 
 he was in his best estate of mind and body. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 185 
 
 As the Atlantic was started at a dinner, 
 it was long a custom for the editor and 
 chief contributors to dine together once a 
 month, on the last Saturday, when the num 
 ber for the succeeding month was out. The 
 attendance varied, of course, but the persons 
 usually present for the first two years were 
 Agassiz, J. Eliot Cabot, John S. D wight, 
 Emerson, Felton, Holmes, Judge E. R. Hoar, 
 Dr. Estes Howe, Longfellow, Lowell, Charles 
 E. Norton, and Edmund Quincy. Motley 
 the historian came to the first dinner, "a 
 picked man of countries," the finest speci 
 men of manly intellectual beauty, proba 
 bly, that our time has known ; he left soon 
 after, to pursue his studies abroad. Whittier 
 came rarely. His health was always delicate, 
 his appetite capricious, and he was evidently 
 troubled by the clouds of smoke that suc 
 ceeded the dinner. Occasionally Whipple and 
 Trowbridge came; also, guests from abroad 
 who chanced to be in town. Once only the 
 women contributors were invited. The ideal 
 
186 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 dinner, as it exists in the mind of Englishmen 
 and Americans, does not lend itself kindly to 
 the refined tastes of the gentler sex. The ex 
 periment was not repeated. Agassiz was full 
 of bonhommie, full of pleasant discourse, and 
 was always listened to. The two brilliant 
 talkers were Holmes and Lowell. Longfel 
 low between them was " a sweetly unobtru 
 sive third," and Emerson was sure to finish a 
 discussion by some striking comment or po 
 etical aphorism. Having read what has been 
 recorded of the wit of after-dinner festivities 
 of famous men in London and Edinburgh, 
 the writer feels sure that the conversation 
 of the leading men of this group has never 
 been surpassed, and seldom if ever equalled. 
 A reporter would have been a being to be 
 shunned at the time ; but what a delight it 
 would now be to recall the scenes as they 
 live in memory ! The wit of Holmes and 
 of Lowell especially never shone so brightly 
 in print as in their dazzling but unstudied 
 fence. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 187 
 
 The dinners took place generally in the 
 large front room at Parker s. Once the club 
 dined at Fontarive s, when the host, a quaint 
 and delightful artist in his way, produced a 
 menu worthy of Lucullus. One dinner was 
 given at Porter s, a once famous hotel about 
 a mile north of the College in Cambridge, 
 where the long-forgotten secret of flip still 
 lingered, where the tall and shrewd-look 
 ing landlord himself carved the canvas-back 
 ducks and the mongrel goose, accompanying 
 his masterly dissection with delightful old- 
 time comment and anecdote. On this par 
 ticular occasion the hilarity was general, 
 though still on the hither side of excess. 
 Every one was in supreme good humor. 
 The Medical Professor shone with an easy 
 superiority, and tossed about his compliments 
 like juggler s balls. Being particularly gra 
 cious towards Longfellow, and having just 
 written that authors were like cats, sure to 
 purr when stroked the right way of the 
 fur, Longfellow, with a merry twinkle in 
 
188 HENEY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 his eyes, interrupted him with " I purr, I 
 purr ! " 
 
 The company broke up late, and on going 
 out found that a foot of snow had fallen. 
 There were no horse-cars, and all walked 
 back to Old Cambridge, the younger mem 
 bers chanting Dr. Palmer s chorus " Putty- 
 rum," from his East Indian sketch. 
 
 Mr. Longfellow continued his contributions 
 to the Atlantic, as is well known, to the last 
 years of his life. 
 
 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 We must still use the successive books as 
 milestones on our way. The poems which 
 sang in the heart of the poet were the epochs 
 of his life, and their dates must be our guides 
 as we follow. 
 
 This romance of the Pilgrims appeared in 
 1858. The accounts of the trials and suffer 
 ings of the Plymouth Colony are among our 
 most precious memorials ; and perhaps the 
 time may come when a descent from the first 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 189 
 
 passengers of the Mayflower will count for 
 as much here as a Norman pedigree counts 
 in England. Readers must not confound 
 Pilgrims and Puritans, at least in Massa 
 chusetts history. The Pilgrims who came 
 in the Mayflower had possibly got a little 
 mellowed in Holland ; not in doctrine, but in 
 social life and manners. Judge T. R, him 
 self a lineal descendant of Plymouth stock, 
 avers that the Pilgrims played whist during 
 all that dreary and terrible first winter. 
 
 The Puritans of the Boston settlement were 
 as a body more learned, possessed of more 
 wealth, and had left a higher social position 
 behind them in England. But their bigotry 
 was of an intensely bitter sort. Their liter 
 ature may be seen in the pedantic and su 
 perstitious "Magnalia" of Mather, and in the 
 mouldering poems of Anne Bradstreet. Their 
 charity was exhibited in the banishment of 
 Eoger Williams, and in sending their most 
 intellectual woman, Anne Hutchinson, out in 
 to the wilderness to be murdered by Indians. 
 
190 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 Their jurisprudence is illustrated during the 
 rule of the theocracy, when Cotton Mather 
 and his fellow elders were as supreme as are 
 now the twelve apostles of Salt Lake City ; 
 and when courts and judges, aside from stat 
 utes, based verdicts and death-sentences upon 
 the five books of Moses. These things re 
 main a charge against Massachusetts Puri 
 tans, and they cannot be blotted out by the 
 tears of descendants ; although the still visi 
 ble groans of Bewail, the judge, in his Diary, 
 dispose us to pity and palliation of his griev 
 ous fault, 
 
 The Pilgrims of Plymouth were more 
 amiable ; the milk of human kindness with 
 them had not curdled. They had no quarrel 
 with Roger Williams ; they even sheltered 
 Quakers. If we can believe the accounts of 
 the time, the Quakers in 1640 were by no 
 means like the venerable and lovely Lucre- 
 tia Mott and the beloved John Gr. Whittier, 
 known by us all ; but were rather addle- 
 pated, half crazed by ecstatic visions, and by 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 191 
 
 (supposed) direct converse with the Spirit 
 of the Lord. When the Spirit of the Lord 
 prompted people " to testify" by exposing 
 themselves naked on Sunday in meeting, the 
 Puritans may perhaps be pardoned if they 
 attributed the inspiration to quite another 
 source. This fact may serve also as a com 
 ment upon " The New England Tragedies " 
 hereinafter to be noticed. 
 
 The Pilgrims, as a whole, were men of 
 amiable manners and of noble character. 
 Longfellow has grouped in his story nearly 
 all the traditions that have come down to us, 
 and has included among them some memora 
 ble sayings from John Eliot, the missionary 
 to the Indians, who lived near Boston. The 
 incidents of the return of the Mayflower, the 
 plots of the savages to exterminate the little 
 band of settlers remaining, and the valiant 
 conduct of Miles Standish, are matters of 
 history. So, too, has come down the story, 
 which seems as if it were the invention of a 
 playwright, of the sending by Standish of 
 
192 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 Jolm Alden to court the beautiful Priscilla 
 in his behalf. The arch reply of the maiden 
 is historical. The tradition of the ride of the 
 bride home upon the back of the milk-white 
 steer has likewise been handed down from 
 generation to generation. If carping anti 
 quarians query, and say that the Mayflower 
 brought no cattle, and that there was not a 
 steer in the Plymouth Colony, white, red, or 
 brindle, that is so much the worse for them. 
 Longfellow knew, as we all know, that the 
 story ought to be true, and so he has given it. 
 Therefore through the fragrant Plymouth 
 woods and among its lovely blue ponds the 
 milk-white steer shall continue to go without 
 hindrance from us. 
 
 " The Courtship of Miles Standish " is more 
 grim and realistic, less dreamy and poetical, 
 than " Evangeline." The latter is an Arca 
 dian idyl, the former a metrical chronicle. 
 " Evangeline " is full of delicate sentiment, 
 and its romantic idea haunts us like the 
 remembered odors of flowers. " Miles Stand- 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 193 
 
 ish " tells us of stern trials and fierce encoun 
 ters in the midst of scenes which we have no 
 time or heart to admire. Nor is the measure 
 of the Pilgrim story so full of music and 
 changeful accent. Continually we hear in 
 the martial hexameters the clang of Miles 
 Standish s long sword. It is only Priscilla, 
 the most natural and artless of women, who 
 fully charms us, and makes us forget all else 
 in following the story of her noble and 
 womanly love. As we remember that her 
 blood and John Alden s were transmitted to 
 Longfellow, we feel a double interest in the 
 woman who dared to let her heart speak for 
 her. It was a beautiful thought of the poet, 
 after more than two centuries, to go back to 
 the Old Colony and lay his tribute of May 
 flowers on the grave of the mother of his 
 race. 
 
 NAHANT. 
 
 From about the year 1850 Longfellow 
 spent his summers at Nahant. It may be of 
 
 13 
 
194 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 interest to readers, especially those away from 
 the sea-shore, to give some account of this 
 place ; partly because it is unique and singu 
 larly picturesque, and partly because it is 
 associated with many poems, and with the 
 poet s seasons of serenest pleasure. 
 
 Nahant is a peninsula stretching out from 
 Lynn into Massachusetts Bay. Geologically 
 it is an island of granite with interior ba 
 sins of fertile soil, connected with the main 
 land by a long and narrow sand-bar. The 
 connection might perhaps have been sun 
 dered long ago, if it had not been for the 
 solid road built over it. At the end of the 
 peninsula one is practically at sea ; at all 
 events, the sea has its own way on all sides. 
 The masses of rock around the coast are 
 colossal, and they have been splintered by 
 frosts, ground by icebergs, and creviced by 
 eternal washings, until they form a series of 
 pictures of utter desolation. In stormy sea 
 sons the roar of the ocean and the dashing of 
 the gigantic waves against the rocky barrier 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 195 
 
 are awfully sublime. A little west of north 
 is Egg Rock, a huge bowlder carrying a small 
 lighthouse on its back, like a candle for the 
 returning fishermen of Swampscott. South 
 by west, on a projection from the Great 
 Brewster, stands Boston Light, a shapely 
 white tower with a revolving light, show 
 ing the entrance into Boston Harbor. The 
 Middle and Outer Brewsters are nearer ; also 
 Calf Island, Green Island, and the dreaded 
 masses of rocks named The Graves. Due 
 south stands the lighthouse on Minot s Ledge. 
 Northward are Baker s Island lights, and, 
 more eastward, those of Thatcher s Island 
 at Gape Ann. Whether by day or night, in 
 calm or storm, the views of sea and shore 
 from Nahant are always fascinating ; some 
 times as lovely as the scenery among the 
 isles of the ^Egean, sometimes as terrible as 
 the storm-beaten coasts of Norway. 
 
 This small peninsula has long been a favor 
 ite summer resort for the wealthy people of 
 Boston and vicinity ; and, after those of New- 
 
196 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 port, its so-called cottages, which are elabo 
 rate and costly villas in fact, are the most 
 picturesque seaside residences on the Atlantic 
 coast. As at Newport, fashion for the most 
 part has full control ; and the dress, equipage, 
 lawn parties, and dinners are suited to the 
 tastes and means of the rich. 
 
 Here upon a rocky platform, with a pleas 
 ant southwestern exposure, stands the cot 
 tage where Mr. Longfellow lived. It is a 
 house of ample size, with wide verandas, and 
 is surrounded with such shrubbery as the 
 unsparing winds that sweep the peninsula 
 allow. The season is short, beginning per 
 haps in the middle of June, and ending by 
 the last of September. A few summer resi 
 dents go nominally, or perhaps vicariously, 
 before the first of May. Taxes are very light 
 in Nahant, and in Massachusetts the first of 
 May is the decisive time as to a tax-payer s 
 legal residence. 
 
 Here around the coast, away from the few 
 roads, perfect quiet reigns, interrupted only 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 197 
 
 by the rote of the sea. To lie on the patches 
 of grass in view of the grand rocks, and to 
 see and hear the thunderous shocks of waves, 
 or to look at the glassy, heaving sea, or to 
 scan the distant passing ships, or the tiny 
 sails of fishing-smacks, or to follow the ma- 
 nreuvres of the white-winged yachts, is a 
 pleasure which only the experienced can 
 value. Lotos-eating in comparison is a very 
 nervous and unsatisfactory recreation. 
 
 For a long time Nahant was almost the 
 only fashionable seaside resort near Boston. 
 Of late the blood of the Vikings has reas 
 serted itself, and almost the whole population 
 flocks to the shore in hot weather. Enor 
 mous, gaudy hotels swelter on sandy beaches, 
 or crown the green, cedar-dotted knolls, from 
 Revere away to the line of New Brunswick. 
 For three months brown hands and ruddy, 
 tanned cheeks are fashionable ; and young 
 dandies are sculling in punts, while troops 
 of masquerading bathers are gambolling like 
 seals on the shelving, shelly shores. 
 
198 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 The influences of Nahant scenery are evi 
 dent in many of Longfellow s poems. It is 
 true he came from a seaport town, but the 
 Atlantic is at some distance from the wharves 
 of Portland, and nowhere could he have felt 
 the majesty and power of the ocean as at 
 Nahant. Eeaclers remember the poem " Sea 
 weed," a marvellous piece of work, full of 
 sharp lines to the eye, and full of remem 
 bered sounds of the ocean ; perhaps as skil 
 fully wrought in its imitations and asso 
 nances as any from his pen : 
 
 " When descends on the Atlantic 
 
 The gigantic 
 
 Storm -wind of the equinox, 
 Landward in his wrath he scourges 
 
 The toiling surges, 
 Laden with seaweed from the rocks ; 
 
 " From Bermuda s reefs ; from edges 
 
 Of sunken ledges 
 In some far-off, bright Azore; 
 From Bahama and the dashing, 
 
 Silver-flashing 
 Surges of San Salvador ; 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 199 
 
 "From the tumbling surf, that buries 
 
 The Orkney an skerries, 
 Answering the hoarse Hebrides ; 
 And from wrecks of ships, and drifting 
 
 Spars, uplifting 
 On the desolate, rainy seas ; 
 
 " Ever drifting, drifting, drifting 
 
 On the shifting 
 Currents of the restless main ; 
 Till in sheltered coves, and reaches 
 
 Of sandy beaches, 
 All have found repose again." 
 
 " The Bells of Lynn " is another charm 
 ing piece, a beautiful landward view from 
 Nahant over a calm stretch of water. Other 
 poems have clear references to the scenery 
 of Nahant, which the intelligent will see. 
 
 A TRAGEDY. 
 
 Longfellow, as we have seen, had enjoyed 
 a favorite s share of fortune. All his plans 
 had prospered. He was the one person in 
 Cambridge whom every one knew and loved. 
 A quiet and studious scholar, he outranked 
 all Governors, Congressmen, and other dig- 
 
200 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 nitaries. Living in a university town where 
 nearly every resident was the centre of some 
 learned circle, he was, like Goethe at Wei 
 mar, the one man famous by divine right and 
 by the universal suffrage of hearts. If ever 
 man had " honor, love, obedience, troops of 
 friends," everything to fill the mind with 
 serene happiness, that man was Longfellow. 
 But the inner feelings of his soul and the 
 sacred remembrances of love were locked 
 and guarded from every eye. Regarding 
 these thoughts and their mementos he never 
 allowed a word to pass his lips. He might 
 well say, with Lowell, 
 
 " I come not of the race 
 That hawk their sorrows in the marketplace." 
 
 And for that reason, among others, the 
 public have never known the inexpressible 
 agony, followed by a chastened but per 
 petual grief, which he suffered in the loss 
 of his wife. It is impossible to exaggerate 
 his devoted love for this noble woman, the 
 mother of his children, who had made his 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 201 
 
 home little less than paradise. On the 4th 
 of July, 1861, she was burned to death in 
 his presence. She was dressed in ample, 
 flowing muslin, and by some mischance her 
 garments took fire from a lighted match. 
 The flame spread almost with a flash ; the 
 startled husband, seeing no other means at 
 hand, seized a large rug or mat and attempt 
 ed to roll it about her to extinguish it, but in 
 vain. In a moment she received injuries 
 which were mortal. His hands were severe 
 ly burned in the sharp struggle. Nothing 
 was left but the undying sense of his irre 
 parable loss, and the image of a glorious 
 soul to be treasured forever. 
 
 There is not, so far as can be ascertained, 
 a single reference to this terrible event in his 
 published poems. The world moved on, and 
 the poet in time resumed his studies and 
 labors, but there must often have come to 
 him a thought like Tennyson s : 
 
 "But for the touch of a vanished hand 
 And the sound of a voice that is still ! " 
 
202 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 THE WAYSIDE INN. 
 
 The " Tales of a Wayside Inn " have a 
 flavor of Boccaccio, less the coarseness which 
 the thirteenth century allowed, with some 
 reminiscences also of Chaucer, first of Eng 
 lish story-tellers. The expedient of gather 
 ing a well-contrasted yet harmonious com 
 pany of scholars and artists as the ostensible 
 narrators is obviously natural and conve 
 nient ; it does not matter that it had been 
 employed before. The scene is at the old 
 Howe Tavern, in Sudbury, Mass., that had 
 been famous for more than a century. It 
 still stands, though no longer used for its 
 original purpose. In the illustrated edition 
 of Longfellow s Poems may be seen a pic 
 ture of the tavern, representing a large and 
 rather irregular building, with hipped roof 
 and tall chimneys, surrounded by venerable 
 trees. 
 
 In this ancient hostelry the usages of for 
 mer generations remained with little change. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 203 
 
 Open fireplaces invited guests to enjoy the 
 warmth of huge wood fires; candles and 
 primitive lamps served instead of gas ; the 
 table service was as unlike as possible that 
 of the modern hotel ; but the fare was sub 
 stantial, and was cooked according to long- 
 descended tradition. In short, the Wayside 
 Inn was a sensible, comfortable, old-fash 
 ioned tavern, something wholly unknown to 
 the present generation. The soul and cen 
 tre of the tavern was the bar-room, where in 
 a corner a portcullis and railing defended 
 the mixer and his precious liquids. Hospi 
 tality, simplicity, and plenty have vanished 
 from country inns, as completely as fireside 
 comfort went when a " black pitfall in the 
 floor " took the place of a blazing open fire. 
 The pane of glass, with the 
 
 "Jovial rhymes, 
 Writ near a century ago 
 By the great Major Molineaux," 
 
 has been taken from the window and framed, 
 and is now shown to visitors. 
 
204 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 Among the dramatis persons of the poems 
 are certain well-known figures. We have 
 no difficulty in naming the musician, Ole 
 Bull, 
 
 " Fair-haired, blue-eyed, his aspect blithe, 
 His figure tall and straight and lithe, 
 And every feature of his face 
 Revealing his Norwegian race : 
 A radiance, streaming from within, 
 Around his eyes and forehead beamed. 
 The Angel with the violin, 
 Painted by Raphael, he seemed." 
 
 The Sicilian 
 
 " In sight of Etna born and bred " 
 
 was Professor Luigi Monti, an author, teach 
 er, and lecturer, who was on terms of inti 
 macy with Longfellow, and for many years 
 was in the habit of dining with him on Sun 
 days. 
 
 "His face was like a summer night, 
 All flooded with a dusky light ; 
 His hands were small ; his teeth shone white, 
 As sea-shells, when he smiled or spoke ; 
 His sinews supple and strong as oak ; 
 Clean shaven was he as a priest, 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 205 
 
 Who at the mass on Sunday sings, 
 
 Save that upon his upper lip 
 
 His beard, a good palm s length at least, 
 
 Level and pointed at the tip, 
 
 Shot sidewise, like a swallow s wings." 
 
 The youth 
 
 " Of quiet ways, 
 A student of old books and days," 
 
 was Dr. Henry W. Wales, a liberal friend 
 to the College. 
 
 The Theologian was probably intended as 
 a likeness of the poet s brother, the Rev. 
 Samuel Longfellow, although some accounts 
 mention Professor Trowbridge, an amateur 
 theologian. 
 
 We read, too, of a Poet, 
 
 " Whose verse 
 
 Was tender, musical, and terse ; 
 The inspiration, the delight, 
 The gleam, the glory, the swift flight 
 Of thoughts so sudden that they seem 
 The revelations of a dream, 
 All these were his." 
 
 This was Thomas William Parsons, known 
 to lovers of poetry as a man of undoubted 
 
206 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 genius, but of a nature so shy and retiring 
 that he has shrunk from popular applause, 
 and almost dreaded the clear light of fame. 
 His " Lines on a Bust of Dante " are full of 
 power ; the compact thought, and the stern 
 brevity that presents the naked idea and 
 scorns all rhetorical ornament, are such as 
 might have extorted praise from his illustri 
 ous subject. Mr. Parsons is best known to 
 scholars by his translation of the "Divina 
 Commedia." 
 
 "The Spanish Jew from Alicant " appears 
 to be an imaginary person, needed to com 
 plete the circle by bringing in the thoughts 
 and traditions of an elder time and an an 
 cient race. 
 
 The Landlord leads off with the story of 
 " Paul Revere s Ride." The fire of patriot 
 ism that burns in this ballad, no less than its 
 rapid movement and its undoubted inspira 
 tion, will preserve it for generations. People 
 who think of Longfellow as merely a bard of 
 the proprieties, one whose nerve is refined 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 207 
 
 away, will do well to read once more this 
 vigorous, simple, and almost perfect specimen 
 of, art. It cannot have been a mere coinci 
 dence that this thrilling poem should have 
 been written in January, 1861, three months 
 before the outbreak of our civil war. We 
 must believe that the roll of Southern drums 
 had reached a finer and almost prophetic 
 sense, and that the poet in this story was 
 announcing to the still unsuspecting North 
 the coming on of a struggle whose vast pro 
 portions and terrible slaughters were to make 
 Lexington and Bunker Hill mere skirmishes 
 in comparison. 
 
 The stories that follow cannot be men 
 tioned in detail. We are glad to see in fair 
 and graceful verse Boccaccio s pathetic tale 
 of " Ser Federigo and his Falcon " ; we wel 
 come the bright and impressive versions of 
 Tahnudic and mediaeval legends ; and we 
 follow the Norwegian through the Sagas of 
 his fierce and slaughter-loving race. In ren 
 dering the latter, Longfellow has given us 
 
208 HENRY WADS WORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 the leading myths and almost the poetic an 
 thology of the Scandinavians. 
 
 As we pass, we must commend the no 
 ble thoughts and the high religious feeling 
 shown in one of the utterances of the Theo 
 logian : 
 
 " And most of all thank God for this : 
 The war and waste of clashing creeds 
 Now end in words, and not in deeds, 
 And no one suffers loss, or bleeds, 
 For thoughts that men call heresies. 
 
 Must it be Calvin, and not Christ] 
 Must it be Athanasian creeds, 
 Or holy water, books, and beads 1 
 Must struggling souls remain content 
 With councils and decrees of Trent ? 
 
 For others a diviner creed 
 Is living in the life they lead. 
 The passing of their beautiful feet 
 Blesses the pavement of the street." 
 
 The religion of humanity and the sweet 
 charity of the Sermon on the Mount have 
 rarely been more truly portrayed. 
 
 This series concludes with " The Birds of 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 209 
 
 Killing worth," a charming and impressive 
 poem, for which the author will be held in 
 affectionate remembrance by all who delight 
 in the brightest and gayest of the creatures 
 of our common Father. Among the minor 
 pieces at the end of the volume is " The 
 Children s Hour," a poem that will henceforth 
 be read with a tender and almost sacred feel 
 ing by the admirers of the poet. What a 
 picture of happiness, of yearning fatherly 
 affection, this simple poem opens to us ! 
 Somewhat sadder, but even more pathetic, 
 is the final poem, "Weariness," beginning, 
 
 " little feet ! that such long years," etc. 
 
 The second series of the " Tales of a 
 Wayside Inn " was not published until many 
 years later, in 1872; but it may be briefly 
 mentioned here as continuing the scene al 
 ready described, with the same character, and 
 witli a similar variety of thought and music 
 in the interchange of stories. The volume 
 further contains "Judas Maccabaeus," a dra- 
 
 14 
 
210 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 matic poem in vigorous blank verse, and " A 
 Handful of Translations," mostly from Ori 
 ental authors. 
 
 A third series appeared in the volume en 
 titled "Aftermath," published in 1873. In 
 this are some of the most beautiful of the 
 whole collection. The story of Emma, the 
 daughter of Charlemagne, and her student- 
 lover, Eginhard, is charmingly told. " Eliza 
 beth is a quaint but genuine Quaker idyl, 
 showing the heart of a delicate woman under 
 the strict rule of the Friends. "The Ehyme 
 of Sir Christopher" is also a poem to be 
 remembered. 
 
 HAWTHORNE. 
 
 We have before mentioned Longfellow s 
 early friendship for Hawthorne, and have 
 shown how, with a poet s insight, he had dis 
 cerned the signs of creative power, and the 
 promise of fame in his early sketches and 
 stories. The discovery was wholly Longfel- 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 211 
 
 low s: it was the clear perception of one 
 man of genius against the dull optics of a 
 whole generation of critics. 
 
 When Hawthorne s classmate, Franklin 
 Pierce, was elected President, it was univer 
 sally recognized as a proper and meritorious 
 act for the new ruler to remember the friend 
 of his youth. For Hawthorne was not a 
 money-maker ; that would have been wholly 
 irreconcilable with the movements of his 
 mind. He never planned an article nor 
 shaped a sentence to win applause or to ad 
 vance his own interests in any way. What 
 rewards came he received, and until he went 
 abroad as Consul to Liverpool, in 1852, they 
 were scanty. At the end of his official term, 
 as readers know, he went to Italy, where he 
 wrote the most celebrated of his longer ro 
 mances. He returned to the United States 
 in the summer of 1860, and resumed his res 
 idence in Concord. His health had failed, 
 and his subsequent literary labors were des 
 ultory and unsatisfactory. He died on May 
 
212 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 19, 1864, and was buried in the graveyard 
 not far from the Old Manse which his vivid 
 genius has immortalized. Readers will re 
 member the pathetic account of the funeral 
 in the late Mr. Fields s " Yesterdays with 
 Authors." 
 
 Longfellow has commemorated the scene 
 in a poem of ideal beauty. We quote the 
 last two stanzas : 
 
 " There in seclusion and remote from men 
 
 The wizard hand lies cold, 
 Which at its topmost speed let fall the pen, 
 And left the tale half told. 
 
 " Ah ! who shall lift that wand of magic power, 
 
 And the lost clew regain ? 
 The unfinished window in Aladdin s tower 
 Unfinished must remain 1 " 
 
 The small circle was broken. Felton, in 
 augurated President of the College in 1860, 
 died, two years later, at Chester, Penn. Now 
 Hawthorne was gone, and there remained 
 Agassiz, Sumner, and Longfellow. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 213 
 
 FLOWER-DE-LUCE. 
 
 In this small collection we see some of 
 the most delicately beautiful of Longfellow s 
 workmanship. It is perhaps some disadvan 
 tage for a poet to contend, year after year, 
 with his own early fame. In the minds of 
 most living men of middle age, the early 
 poems had an established place ; they had 
 been often read and repeated ; and now they 
 were the half of an equation, of which the 
 other was Longfellow himself. The new 
 comers were pretenders to be scrutinized. 
 Many have felt probably, as the author did, 
 that, no matter how exquisite might be the 
 feeling and how deft the art of the later po 
 ems, they could not, should not be admitted 
 to take the place of those that had been as 
 sociated with so many thronging memories. 
 In a sense, the old-fashioned admirers and 
 lovers of the poet almost resented the thought 
 that their spring-time favorites were to be 
 overshadowed. 
 
214 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 It is not easy to judge as to what would 
 be the effect of the publication of such poems 
 as " Flower-de-Luce," "The Bells of Lynn," 
 or " Killed at the Ford," from an author 
 before unknown. It is probable that they 
 would be received with universal delight. 
 Year by year Longfellow s fame had grown, 
 until he was his own tremendous rival. 
 From him great things were naturally ex 
 pected, and a poem that would have created 
 a furore from a new man was from him only 
 an e very-day occurrence. 
 
 This observation will be found to hold 
 good, that whenever the reader sees any 
 poem of Longfellow s of moderate length, 
 not being a translation, it is sure to con 
 tain some high truth or some truly poetical 
 image. It is in the longer and more labored 
 productions that passages of less evident in 
 spiration occur. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 215 
 
 CHRISTUS, A MYSTERY. 
 
 The separate parts of the Mystery, " The 
 Golden Legend," "The Divine Tragedy," 
 and " The New England Tragedies," were 
 written at different periods ; the first named 
 having been published in 1851, the last in 
 1868, and the Gospel story in 1872. 
 
 "The Golden Legend" (whose name only 
 is derived from the " Legenda Aurea" of 
 Jacopo di Voragine) is based upon an an 
 cient German poem in ballad form, entitled 
 " Der arme Heinrich," by Hartniann von 
 Aue. 1 
 
 So far as the vital idea is concerned, the 
 attempted voluntary sacrifice of her life by 
 a maiden in order to prolong that of her 
 prince, Longfellow s poem follows the me 
 diaeval legend with little variation. But 
 11 The Golden Legend" has what we might 
 call the stage properties, costume and scen 
 ery, together with a wealth of description 
 
 1 Deutsche Classiker des Mittelalters, Leipzig, 1867. 
 
216 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 and a richness of style wliich are all un 
 known in the German poem. For the beauty 
 of individual scenes, and for the general po 
 etical tone, there can be nothing but praise. 
 The monks are treated in a most artistic 
 manner, especially in the original edition. 
 A few phrases Avhich the poet s friends prob 
 ably considered rather free have disappeared 
 since. The entrance of Mephistopheles, of 
 course, suggests Goethe, who reminds us of 
 Marlowe, who reminds us of the prologue to 
 the biblical poem of Job, behind which we 
 cannot go, there being no pre-Judaic tradi 
 tions. But the notion of the presence and 
 activity in human affairs of a spirit of evil is 
 as old as the oldest of races. 
 
 For the mere pleasure of reading, " The 
 Golden Legend " is a delightful poem ; as a 
 part of a trilogy it is fettered by connections 
 on either hand to scenes and events, ages 
 before and ages after, which are certainly 
 not vitally necessary, if indeed they are not 
 incongruous. A connection by a hyphen, a 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 217 
 
 mere state of contiguity, is not enough. It 
 is impossible not to see that many other 
 events, such as the destruction of Jerusa 
 lem, the massacre of St. Bartholomew, or the 
 martyrdoms at Smithfield, have just as vital 
 a connection with the Scripture tragedy as 
 have the monkish legend and the witchcraft 
 trials. Having passed successively through 
 the three parts of the Christus, it is as if we 
 had gone from a primitive Christian temple 
 into a dim and gorgeous mediaeval cathe 
 dral, and finally emerged from a many-win 
 dowed early-Massachusetts pine meeting 
 house. The changes are shocks. 
 
 The story of the Divine passion in its ori 
 ginal form can never fail of impressing the 
 most thoughtless ; but, so subtile are the 
 threads of association, we find our thoughts 
 and memories tied to the very words in 
 which we first read it. A paraphrase or a 
 commentary breaks the spell, as the fate of 
 the new translation shows. The Gospel nar 
 ratives have been received into the mind in 
 
218 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 certain clear, forcible, and often picturesque 
 phrases ; and they look fairer and sound 
 more naturally in those phrases than they 
 can ever do in verse. 
 
 There is an objection of a different sort to 
 " The New England Tragedies," which must 
 be felt by antiquarians and others familiar 
 with the history of the period ; although per 
 haps it may not occur to the general reader. 
 It is that the several scenes are almost the 
 actual chronicles versified ; and they are ter 
 rible chronicles, full of heart-sickness to 
 the sympathetic reader, and tending to make 
 him reprobate the Puritans and their juris 
 prudence, as beyond the pale of charitable 
 judgment. Of the fidelity of the pictures 
 there cannot be the least doubt, -but therein 
 lies the horror of them. Rather than read of 
 Giles Corey s fate, and those other dreadful 
 deeds, a generous man (son of the Puritans 
 though he be) would prefer to pass a pleasant 
 afternoon in the Morgue, and contemplate, 
 under the cool, trickling water, the forms of 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 219 
 
 those beyond the reach of man s inhumanity 
 to man. 
 
 The objections lie to the choice of subjects 
 as bases of poetry ; and the difficulty in each 
 instance appears almost insuperable. The 
 language of " The New England Tragedies " 
 is properly vigorous and condensed ; that of 
 " The Divine Tragedy" follows as closely as 
 may be the words of the Gospel narrative ; 
 and these do not easily form symmetrical and 
 firmly built lines, but resemble rather the 
 loose piles of pasture wall, which are easily 
 shaken when even a light foot trips over 
 them. It is freely admitted that none but a 
 true poet could have written either ; the re 
 gret is, that, by attempting what is surely 
 difficult, and apparently impossible, a rather 
 mediocre success should be the result. The 
 effect of "The New England Tragedies" 
 upon the reader is depressing and painful 
 to the last degree. There is no light, no 
 relief, no escape from the fateful march of 
 events. The Gospel story is finely harmo- 
 
220 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 nized from the four original narrations, and 
 has many noble passages. Still, the feeling 
 of stubborn resistance to any change from 
 the early and universally received version 
 remains, and will remain. 
 
 THE HANGING OF THE CKANE. 
 
 " The Hanging of the Crane " is a title that 
 leads us to expect some rustic pleasantry con 
 nected with the beginning of wedded life and 
 the responsibility of housekeeping. But the 
 poem shoots swiftly ahead, and occupies itself 
 with glimpses down the vista of time, which 
 shift like the projections of the camera ob- 
 scura. In successive scenes children appear, 
 then new families, weddings, separations, and 
 funerals. The poem is pitched upon a rather 
 sombre key, and is not what a youthful poet 
 would have made it, but is perhaps for that 
 reason truer to human experience. The pic 
 ture in the illustrated edition of Longfellow s 
 Poems shows us a handsome and thoughtful 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 221 
 
 man, engrossed (to all appearance) in a book, 
 while on an arm of his chair sits one of those 
 well-known aids to study and reflection, a 
 lovely woman, whose graceful head is poised 
 for endearment rather than for any close at 
 tention to the volume. It is a sweetly pro 
 phetic picture ; but it is easy to see that the 
 student will not make much headway until 
 the scene changes. The lady might say, with 
 Motherwell, 
 
 " Thy looks were on thy lesson, but 
 My lesson was in thee." 
 
 This poem was sold to Mr. Bonner, pub 
 lisher of the New York Ledger, by the 
 agency of Mr. Samuel Ward (so we are told), 
 for no less a sum than four thousand dollars. 
 The Ledger is not severely literary, and has 
 only occasionally indulged in such luxuries ; 
 the last that we remember was the gift of ten 
 thousand dollars to the Mount Vernon fund 
 for a series of articles by the late Edward 
 Everett. The prestige arising from the em 
 ployment of illustrious contributors was per- 
 
222 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 haps worth what it cost. It appears to have 
 afforded intense gratification to Mr. Ward 
 that the price (by the rule of three) was not 
 greatly different from that paid to Tennyson 
 for some similar work. 
 
 MORITUEI SALUTAMUS. 1 
 
 The class of 1825 met at Bowdoin Col 
 lege on its fiftieth anniversary, in July, 1875. 
 They were few in number. There were thir 
 teen members of the class living, of whom 
 twelve were present. Besides Mr. Longfel 
 low, these were the Rev. Dr. Cheever, Charles 
 J. Abbott, John S. C. Abbott, Hon. S. P. Ben 
 son, Hon. J. W. Bradbury, Horatio Bridge, 
 Prof. Nathaniel Dunn, Rev. Dr. David Shep- 
 ley, Allen Sawtelle, J. J. Eveleth, and a Mr. 
 
 1 An allusion to the formula prescribed for the gladia 
 tors in accosting a Roman Emperor, when they were about 
 to engage in deadly combat in his presence : " We who are 
 about to die salute you." The venerable class of 1825 are 
 thus represented as being about to die, and saluting their 
 Alma Mater. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 223 
 
 Stone, from Mississippi. The absent member 
 was Mr. Hale, of Dover, N. H. 
 
 A friend who was present says that the 
 scene was indescribably affecting. The large 
 audience was hushed to silence, and the low 
 and pleasant but often tremulous tones of Mr. 
 Longfellow s voice as he read the poem were 
 clearly heard in every part of the church. 
 Of the former instructors, one only, Prof. 
 A. S. Packard, was living. The meeting of 
 the class was sad, but affectionate and tender. 
 Mr. Shepley, in referring to this meeting and 
 to the appearance of Longfellow as he read 
 the poem, says : 
 
 "How did we exult in his pure character and 
 his splendid reputation ! With what delight did 
 we gaze upon his intelligent and benignant coun 
 tenance, with what moistening eyes listen to his 
 words! Just before leaving for our respective 
 homes, we gathered in a retired college room for 
 the last time, talked together a half-hour as of old, 
 agreed to exchange photographs, and prayed to 
 gether ; then going forth under the branches of 
 the old tree, in silence we took each other by the 
 
224 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 hand and separated, knowing well that Brunswick 
 would not again witness a gathering of the class 
 of 1825." 
 
 To his class the poet says : 
 
 " Ye, against whose familiar names not yet 
 The fatal asterisk of death is set, 
 Ye I salute! The horologe of Time 
 Strikes the half-century with a solemn chime, 
 And summons us together once again, 
 The joy of meeting not unmixed with pain." 
 
 The poem is a noble one, scholastic, as the 
 occasion required, but full especially of the 
 intuitive love of the heart. It shows the poet 
 in an unwonted demonstrative mood, glow 
 ing with memories of his youth, glowing too 
 with the inborn affection which learning and 
 fame had never cooled. 
 
 Perhaps the final meditation upon old age 
 is the most quotable passage : 
 
 "As the barometer foretells the storm 
 "While still the skies are clear, the weather warm, 
 So something in us, as old age draws near, 
 Betrays the pressure of the atmosphere. 
 The nimble mercury, ere we are aware, 
 Descends the elastic ladder of the air; 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 225 
 
 The telltale blood in artery and vein 
 Sinks from its higher levels in the brain; 
 Whatever poet, orator, or sage 
 May say of it, old age is still old age. 
 It is the waning, not the crescent moon, 
 The dusk of evening, not the blaze of noon : 
 It is not strength, but weakness; not desire, 
 But its surcease ; not the fierce heat of fire, 
 The burning and consuming element, 
 But that of ashes and of embers spent, 
 In which some living sparks we still discern, 
 Enough to warm, but not enough to burn. 
 
 For age is opportunity no less 
 
 Than youth itself, though in another dress, 
 
 And as the evening twilight fades away 
 
 The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day." 
 
 K^RAMOS. 
 
 If there are evidences at times in some of 
 the later poems of waning power, seen in the 
 more sluggish current of thought, and in the 
 more obvious, less vivid forms of expression, 
 they are not in " Keramos." The concep 
 tion of this poem is very happy. We know 
 there was a rude pottery in Portland where 
 
 15 
 
226 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 the commoner wares were made, and the poet 
 when a boy often saw the shaping and firing 
 of the homely pots and pans. Beginning 
 with this simple experience, his fancy soon 
 takes wing, and from an aerial height looks 
 down upon the various scenes in ages past 
 in which this plastic art has been displayed. 
 We are shown ancient Delft, with its quaint 
 plates and beer-flagons ; Palissy at work with 
 immortal fury to melt upon his wares an in 
 destructible enamel; Majorca, Faenza, Flor 
 ence, and Pesaro, with their wealth of color 
 and imperishable beauty of design ; the saints 
 and angels of Luca della Robbia ; the price 
 less relics of Etrurian and Grecian art; Asian 
 and Egyptian images and vases ; the porce 
 lain of Cathay, including the nine-fold balco 
 nies of the tower of Nankin ; the quaint and 
 inimitable jars of Japan, covered with birds, 
 and alive with all colors of earth and sky. 
 These successive scenes are done with swift, 
 bright touches, and form a moving panorama 
 of one of the most fascinating of arts. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 227 
 
 This poem was published with costly illus 
 trations in Harper s Magazine, and attracted 
 wide attention. It was afterwards collected 
 with others in a volume under the title of 
 " The Masque of Pandora, and Other Po 
 ems." " The Masque of Pandora " is a fine 
 and nervous rendering of the old classi 
 cal story, containing passages of uncommon 
 power. The character of Prometheus will 
 not take high rank, as compared with the 
 immortal portraitures celebrated in ages gone 
 by ; for it is not the remorseful or vengeful 
 Titan that is exhibited, but only the wise and 
 wary artificer, who fears the gift of the gods, 
 and is deaf to blandishments. It is a kind 
 of side-light upon the ancient story, told with 
 spirit and grace. 
 
 POEMS OF PLACES. 
 
 Here may be briefly mentioned a work of 
 magnitude, edited by Mr. Longfellow, entitled 
 " Poems of Places." The series comprises no 
 
228 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 less than thirty-one volumes. The plan was 
 to gather poems in English relating to vari 
 ous localities. Thus, under the heads of "Ire 
 land," "Scotland," "France," &c.,are collected 
 whatever is descriptive of the scenery and 
 historical events of those countries. This was 
 a labor that extended over many years. Mr. 
 Longfellow was greatly aided by Mr. John 
 Owen, who was a publisher and bookseller 
 in Cambridge forty years ago, and who was 
 the original publisher of the "Ballads and 
 Other Poems." Mr. Owen was a life-long 
 friend of the poet ; and his taste and care 
 ful scholarship were of the greatest service. 
 His attachment to his illustrious friend was 
 strong and constant, reminding us of the most 
 remarkable stories in history or fiction. Mr. 
 Owen was greatly affected by Mr. Longfel 
 low s death, and followed him to the grave 
 within a month. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 229 
 
 A BOOK OF SONNETS. 
 
 This contains the maturest of our poet s 
 thoughts and the expression of his noblest 
 feelings, and may stand as specimens of 
 his almost perfect art. The group entitled 
 "Three Friends of Mine," referring to Fel- 
 ton, Agassiz, and Sumner, who had all passed 
 away, has been mentioned before. The 
 characterizations of Chaucer, Shakespeare, 
 Milton, and Keats that follow are strong and 
 individual, showing a poet s insight and fine 
 propriety of tone. As a specimen of the 
 sonnet, that upon Milton is best, because it 
 contains the development of but one grand 
 thought, that breaks with a wave-like roll at 
 the end. The others have, however, a re 
 markable vividness and felicity of phrase. 
 In the sonnets following, " The Galaxy," 
 " The Sound of the Sea," and others, the 
 reader feels auroral flashes and mysterious 
 emanations as from the infinite, and is ex 
 cited by the tantalizing contiguity of ideas 
 
230 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 that attract him, yet baffle full comprehen 
 sion. 
 
 These Sonnets form a magnificent constel 
 lation ; and it would seem that, though late 
 in order, they had been slowly evolved, and 
 each luminous point brought out years be 
 fore in perfect and steady lustre. If the 
 early and popular favorites show the fresh 
 heart and the unfailing melody of Longfel 
 low, these sonnets as fully attest his vigor 
 ous mind and his far-reaching imagination. 
 We insert two which are perhaps as striking 
 as any. 
 
 " MILTON. 
 
 "I pace the sounding sea-beach and behold 
 How the voluminous billows roll and run, 
 Upheaving and subsiding, while the sun 
 Shines through their sheeted emerald far unrolled, 
 And the ninth wave, slow gathering fold by fold 
 All its loose-flowing garments into one, 
 Plunges upon the shore, and floods the dun 
 Pale reach of sands, and changes them to gold. 
 So in majestic cadence rise and fall 
 The mighty undulations of thy song, 
 O sightless bard, England s Mseonides ! 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 231 
 
 And ever and anon, high over all 
 
 Uplifted, a ninth wave, superb and strong, 
 Floods all the soul with its melodious seas." 
 
 "THE GALAXY. 
 
 " Torrent of light and river of the air, 
 
 Along whose bed the glimmering stars are seen 
 
 Like gold and silver sands in some ravine 
 
 Where mountain streams have left their channels bare! 
 
 The Spaniard sees in thee the pathway, where 
 His patron saint descended in the sheen 
 Of his celestial armor, on serene 
 And quiet nights, when all the heavens were fair. 
 
 Not this I see, nor yet the ancient fable 
 
 Of Phaeton s wild course, that scorched the skies 
 Where er the hoofs of his hot coursers trod ; 
 
 But the white drift of worlds o er chasms of sable, 
 The star-dust, that is whirled aloft and flies 
 From the invisible chariot-wheels of God." 
 
 AN ESTIMATE. 
 
 Whenever a poet of real merit is to be 
 considered, it would appear necessary to 
 make a new series of definitions, or to mod 
 ify much that has been previously written 
 upon the essence of poetry. Nothing could 
 
232 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 be more disagreeable than to read, as of late, 
 that Longfellow was the "poet of the com 
 monplace." It is true the critic made the 
 statement with many qualifications, but the 
 statement is itself a contradiction in terms. 
 Poetry is the exact antithesis of the com 
 monplace ; it rejects both the thing and the 
 manner. Poetry is the essence of thought, 
 perceived or evolved by the imagination, 
 and made palpable to the mind by fine in 
 tuitive suggestions. Poetry is necessarily 
 twin-born with emotion, and never shows 
 itself except by appealing to the sensibili 
 ties, as beauty, grandeur, terror, sympathy, 
 love, or joy. The absolutely pure element 
 of poetry even in classic poems is seldom a 
 large part of the mass ; much of the staple of 
 verse consists of the grosser material medium 
 which holds the whole together. 
 
 If the critic above referred to had said 
 that Longfellow was the poet of common 
 life, it would have been eminently true in 
 one sense : in that his best-known poems are 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 233 
 
 associated with the touching and sacred mo 
 ments of ecstasy and of sorrow, and come to 
 the memory of all men like airs from the 
 land of the blessed, with healing on their 
 wings. Upon the basis of universal suffrage 
 Longfellow would doubtless be the most 
 popular poet of our time, and perhaps of any 
 time; for it is certain that his readers are 
 more numerous than those of any poet ex 
 cept the Psalmist David. However, we do 
 not abide by the decisions of universal suf 
 frage, but by the consensus of the great body 
 of men of reading competent to form a judg 
 ment. If the number of volumes sold were 
 the test of a poet s rank, there is another who 
 would come very near ; yet no considerable 
 number of educated men would consider that 
 poet a rival of Longfellow. 
 
 On the other hand, it is possible that a man 
 of even superior gifts and graces might be 
 less truly a poet if he chose to wrap his ideas 
 in uncouth phrases, and strive for obscurity. 
 Longfellow somewhere says : 
 
234 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 " Some writers of the present day have intro 
 duced a kind of Gothic architecture into their 
 style. All is fantastic, vast, and wondrous in the 
 outward form, and within is mysterious twilight, 
 and the swelling sound of an organ, and a voice 
 chanting hymns in Latin, which need a translation 
 for many of the crowd. To this I do not object. 
 Let the priest chant in what language he will, so 
 long as he understands his own mass-book. But 
 if he wishes the world to listen and be edified, he 
 will do well to choose a language that is generally 
 understood." 
 
 If one were to discourse upon poetry with 
 Robert Browning in view, what would be 
 come of preconceived definitions I Poetry 
 might perhaps be denned as transcendent, 
 thought and exalted feeling moving in mu 
 sical rhythm. But where is the music of 
 " The Ring and the Book " ? Only the most 
 skilled reader can accentuate the lines with 
 ease, and either a tripping or a leisurely grace 
 of utterance is out of the question. Again, 
 we may say that poetry is sometimes an ex 
 pression of the sense of beauty in the pres- 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 235 
 
 ence of nature. What of this is to be seen in 
 Browning? What apostrophes, what gems 
 of description, what notes of joy, are to be 
 quoted ? There are subtilties and cavernous 
 pitfalls of thought, sharp dissections of char 
 acter, and hints of grand and poetical images. 
 But the hints are seldom elaborated into 
 those enduring forms which we love, and all 
 the characteristics which we might separately 
 admire are mere by-play in the development 
 of complicated plots, the clews of which the 
 most attentive reader will frequently lose. 
 
 The beauty of lyrical movement is sel 
 dom, if ever, seen in Browning. His poems 
 in some respects are like the rough, hollow 
 globes of stone called geodes, in w r hich by 
 a freak of nature crystals of quartz are en 
 closed like seeds in a melon. Without the 
 geode is a dull shell of flinty hardness ; it 
 is only when cracked by the mineralogist s 
 hammer that the glittering clusters of gems 
 are brought to light. Great as Browning 
 is, intellectually, the standard definitions of 
 
236 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 poetry must be modified before he could be 
 recognized as a poet at all. 
 
 "Philosophical" poetry is, in a sense, a 
 solecism. Philosophy, whether in the form 
 of proverb or speculation, needs no music or 
 measure. Proverbs are not necessarily poeti 
 cal ; Bacon s aphorisms surely are not. "The 
 whirl and delirium of song," or even its 
 more placid movements, are antipathetic to 
 philosophic serenity. Philosophy can never 
 be the food, still less the pleasure, of any 
 large number. Perhaps five thousand is a 
 sufficient estimate of the readers of Plato in 
 any generation. The Essays of Emerson, 
 full of high thinking as they are, and full of 
 intellectual stimulus also, are sealed books to 
 most eyes. In coming times, when men are 
 lifted to the level of philosophic thought, it 
 may happen that philosophic poems will take 
 the rank in popular estimation which they 
 now have among the few. But for the pres 
 ent we must consider poetry as it affects the 
 large average of intelligent men. We must 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 237 
 
 not set up our standard for the few high 
 souls, nor yet lower it to embrace the greater 
 number of those who are pleased with mel 
 ody without thought. 
 
 Although the greatest poets are not mod- 
 era, still, as a whole, poetry is progressive, 
 heightening in qualities, as well as growing 
 in bulk ; and success is more and more diffi 
 cult as time goes by. 
 
 As we look back, what faint gleams light 
 up the alliterative lines of Langland ! what 
 wretched rhymes we encounter in the hurdy- 
 gurdy verse of Gower ! what meagre wit 
 we find in the crabbed Scotcli poets of the 
 fourteenth and fifteenth centuries ! Our lan 
 guage, it is true, has increased in resources, 
 and grown more flexible to the poef s touch ; 
 but the general progress in poetry is as 
 much in its essential qualities as in the ex 
 ternal grace. 
 
 What is to be the future of poetry who 
 can say ? With the advance of knowledge, 
 the refinement of thought and expression, 
 
238 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 the sense of beauty may be revealed to the 
 mind in new ways. More and more we find 
 poetry diffused through rich prose ; but the 
 concrete substance will not be exhausted 
 thereby ; poetry is not to be dissolved or 
 dissipated. 
 
 The old forms will never return. The cold 
 clarity of modern thought is not the medium 
 for the visions of the Divina Commedia or 
 of Paradise Lost. A contemporary Dante 
 would wreak his noble rage upon the affairs 
 of the world s surface, and not upon the 
 dwellers of the under gloom. A new Milton 
 would construct his aerial edifice under the 
 visible sky. 
 
 As for the drama, it has ceased to have a 
 literary character. The future poet, what 
 ever he may do, will not write acting plays. 
 The play has become nearly a pantomime, 
 an acted story with barely words enough to 
 explain the situations. - Shakespeare s theatre 
 was at once school, salon, literary exchange, 
 and oracle. Our theatre exists for diversion, 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 239 
 
 and a successful play is like a pastry cook s 
 meringue, the more unsubstantial, the bet 
 ter. Besides, as every one knows, the press 
 now brings all thought to our homes, and 
 we go to actors for wisdom and wit no 
 more. 
 
 Neither will the epic return. The nearest 
 approach in our day is in the Arthurian 
 poems ; but even these are separable, not 
 of necessity continuous; and, taking them 
 together, we feel little of the crescendo move 
 ment, the up-gathering of force, which char- 
 acterizes the epic cycle. 
 
 In modern poetry we see that the best 
 effects are produced in efforts of moderate 
 length. A poem is an enjoyment for a sit 
 ting. The exalted feeling which it is the 
 work of poetry to excite is necessarily tran 
 sient. The movement of feeling is swift, and 
 at the climax the ecstasy dies. If we look 
 for the masterpieces of modern poets, we find 
 them invariably short. Even narrative po 
 ems are strongly condensed, and we find 
 
240 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 that " Evangeline," for instance, is as long as 
 the taste of our day allows. 
 
 The principal quality, however, in mod 
 ern poetry is the universal recognition of 
 high ideals in life, even among the hum 
 blest, in the doctrines of equality and 
 brotherhood, in the cultivation of toler 
 ance and charity, in short, in the incul 
 cation of the true ic gospel," or good news, 
 of " peace on earth and good will towards 
 men." In this way the scope of poetry has 
 been enlarged, and its tone elevated immeas 
 urably. Though the doctrine be as old as 
 the Christian era, its appearance and its com 
 manding influence in poetry are as new in 
 this century as the spectrum analysis, or the 
 doctrine of the correlation of forces. 
 
 Two great poets have been born in Eng 
 land. After them there are a dozen or twenty, 
 perhaps, about whose relative rank men will 
 continue to differ. When the name of " po 
 etry " was new, it signified emotional thought, 
 music, and rhythmical movement together. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 241 
 
 The emphasis was literally marked by feet, 
 and the measure was floated on musical 
 waves. Now the triple ecstasy exists no 
 longer. The emphasis is marked, and the 
 music is heard by an inner sense. If the 
 ancient idea of poetry were to be insisted 
 upon, there could not be found half a dozen 
 poets in a century. In our time they would 
 be chiefly Swinburne, Shelley, Moore, and 
 Tennyson. 
 
 Swinburne finds the once crabbed English 
 pliable as if molten to his touch, and the 
 music of his lines is as exquisite as might 
 be that of a fairy orchestra. The airy mel 
 ody of Tennyson s songs in " The Prin 
 cess " has never been surpassed, not even 
 by Shakespeare. This wonderful music the 
 verse of Longfellow has never reproduced ; 
 and yet its distinguishing features are pure 
 melody and grace. 
 
 The poem measures the poet, and it can 
 not be as broad as humanity unless the 
 poet is in himself a representative man. We 
 
 16 
 
242 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 recognize limitations in Longfellow, as we 
 recognize them in all tlie poets for two cen 
 turies. We rarely find in him the thoughts 
 that dazzle and strike like lightning; nor is 
 he to be compared with some even of his 
 own rank, in the sweep of imagination, still 
 less in the intensity of feeling. The stream 
 of his song has been 
 
 " Strong without rage, without o erflowing full." 
 
 But his powers were rare, his studies and op 
 portunities helpful, his sense of proportion 
 and of melody exquisite, his perception of 
 beauty keen, his sympathy boundless ; and 
 as he has addressed the hearts of all men 
 he has been singing for over half a century 
 with the world for an audience. It is easy 
 to point out where he is inferior in isolated 
 qualities to other poets ; but he has a totality 
 of his own, embracing many elements in 
 which even greater geniuses have no share ; 
 and in the extent and diversity of his works 
 he stands the peer of any. If poets like Gray 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 243 
 
 and Collins are immortalized by the few 
 gems they added to our literature, what is 
 to be said of Longfellow, who has produced 
 fifty times as many, most of them superior 
 in force and beauty to the mosaics of the 
 one, or the classic odes of the other ? 
 
 The treasures of the whole world have 
 been open to our many-languaged man ; the 
 blossoms of every garden have yielded him 
 perfumes ; and now in his verse we have the 
 aroma distilled from millions of lilies and 
 roses. He who has done this is not soon to 
 fade from the memories of men. 
 
 TRANSLATION OF DANTE. 
 
 The translation of the " Divina Commedia," 
 consisting of some eighteen thousand lines, 
 and filling three large octavo volumes, is an 
 undertaking of so much inherent difficulty, 
 as well as magnitude, that a man might be 
 pardoned if he should regard it as sufficient 
 for his share in the work of the world. Yet 
 
244 PIENRY WADS WORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 this appears to have been done within a few 
 years by Longfellow, pursuing his invariable 
 method of Nulla dies sine linea, and without 
 interrupting his other varied labors. It is a 
 most impressive example of the wise econ 
 omy of time. 
 
 It appears to be admitted that a perfect 
 translation like the existence of two iden 
 tical minds is impossible. The difficulties 
 have often been dwelt upon, as by Dante 
 himself, by Cervantes, and by Dryden. To 
 produce Dante s poem in English with the 
 power, the allusions, and the beauties of the 
 original, would require another Dante as 
 translator. We observe that the Divine in 
 spiration takes upon itself the mental color 
 ing of the subject of its power : so that the 
 Supreme Mind uses at one time the vehe- 
 
 &nce of Paul; at another, the gentle and 
 touching humility of John. So Dante s great 
 work is bald prose in Gary, more poetical but 
 still rugged in Eossetti, terse and trebly- 
 rhymed in Parsons, or literally simple and 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 245 
 
 beautiful in Longfellow. A few paragraphs 
 are quoted from the opinion of an eminent 
 Italian scholar : 
 
 " The directness and simplicity of Dante s dic 
 tion require of the translator a like directness 
 and simplicity. The difficulty of preserving these 
 qualities in a rhymed version is such as to make 
 such a version practically impossible ; and the sym 
 pathy of the translator is shown by his discarding 
 rhyme for the sake of preserving the more impor 
 tant elements of style The method of transla 
 tion which Mr. Longfellow has chosen is free alike 
 from the reproach of pedantic literalness and of 
 
 unfaithful license His special sympathy and 
 
 genius guide him with almost unerring truth, and 
 display themselves constantly in the rare felicity 
 
 of his rendering In fine, Mr. Longfellow, in 
 
 rendering the substance of Dante s poem, has sue- / 
 ceeded in giving also so far as art and genius 
 could give it the spirit of Dante s poetry. Fit- 1 
 ted for the work as few men ever were, by gifts of 
 nature, by sympathy, by an unrivalled fac 
 poetic appreciation, and by long and thorough cul 
 ture, he has brought his matured powers in their 
 full vigor to its performance, and has produced an 
 
246 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 incomparable translation, a poem that will take 
 rank among the great English poems." l 
 
 ULTIMA THULE. 
 
 This boding title must have caused a pang 
 of apprehension among the poet s wide circle 
 of admirers. Years before there was a simi 
 lar shock when the great Emerson printed 
 his " Terminus," and began his chant with 
 
 " It is time to be old." 
 
 Longfellow was gathering his last sheaves 
 under a late autumn sky. The poems in 
 this thin volume are few, but mostly memo 
 rable. By far the most noteworthy is the 
 monody upon the death of Bayard Taylor. 
 As Chibiabos in " Hiawatha" represented our 
 poet as a singer, so with a few slight changes 
 this would serve for a memorial of himself 
 as a scholar. It is like a pure and perfect 
 column of marble, faultless alike in design 
 
 1 Professor Charles Eliot Norton, in the North American 
 Review for July, 1867. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 247 
 
 and execution. It would be difficult to find 
 its parallel. 
 
 "BAYARD TAYLOR. 
 
 lt DEAD he lay among his books ! 
 The peace of God was in his looks. 
 
 As the statues in the gloom 
 Watch o er Maximilian s tomb, 1 
 
 So those volumes from their shelves 
 Watched him, silent as themselves. 
 
 Ah ! his hand will nevermore 
 Turn their storied pages o er ; 
 
 Nevermore his lips repeat 
 Songs of theirs, however sweet. 
 
 Let the lifeless body rest! 
 
 He is gone, who was its guest ; 
 
 Gone, as travellers haste to leave 
 An inn, nor tarry until eve. 
 
 Traveller ! in what realms afar, 
 In what planet, in what star, 
 
 In what vast, aerial space, 
 Shines the light upon thy face ? 
 
 1 In the Hofkirche at Innsbruck. 
 
248 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 In what gardens of delight 
 Rest thy weary feet to-night? 
 
 Poet ! thou, whose latest verse 
 "Was a garland on thy hearse ; 
 
 Thou hast sung, with organ tone, 
 In Deukaliori s life, thine own ; 
 
 On the ruins of the Past 
 Blooms the perfect flower at last. 
 
 Friend ! but yesterday the bells 
 Rang for thee their loud farewells ; 
 
 And to-day they toll for thee, 
 Lying dead beyond the sea ; 
 
 Lying dead among thy books, 
 
 The peace of God in all thy looks ! " 
 
 Longfellow s subsequent poems are few. 
 " Hermes Trismegistus " appeared in the 
 Century Magazine for February, and " Mad 
 Eiver among the White Mountains" in the 
 Atlantic for May. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 249 
 
 SEVENTY-FIFTH BIRTHDAY. 
 
 FEBRUARY 27, 1882. 
 
 The Maine Historical Society made elab 
 orate preparations to celebrate the seventy- 
 fifth anniversary of the poet s birth. The 
 people of Maine, and of Portland especially, 
 have a just pride in the fame of the illus 
 trious man whose ancestors had borne such 
 a part in their history, and whose youth 
 had been passed among them. His recollec 
 tions of his native city form one of the best 
 and most admired of his poems. Bowdoin 
 College claims a part of the renown of 
 her favorite son. Her alumni among all 
 the learned professions meet on common 
 ground when his character and works are 
 discussed. 
 
 The subjects had been given to competent 
 hands, and the proceedings form a full and 
 excellent summary of the poet s ancestry, of 
 his early career, and of his enormous labors. 
 The Portland Advertiser s account on the 
 
250 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 following day covered no less than eighteen 
 columns. 
 
 The opening address was delivered by the 
 Hon. W. G. Barrows. Mr. James P. Baxter 
 read a long and interesting poem entitled 
 " Laus Laureati." The Rev. H. S. Barrage 
 read a careful account of the Longfellow 
 family. A very excellent memoir of the 
 poet s grandfather, General Peleg Wads- 
 worth, was read by the Hon. William Goold. 
 Mr. Edward H. Elwell, editor of the Port 
 land Transcript, had prepared an historical 
 retrospect of Portland, with bright and 
 charming pictures of society and manners 
 in the early part of this century. The ven 
 erable Prof. A. S. Packard, the poet s sole 
 surviving instructor, gave a sketch of him 
 as a student, and afterwards as Professor at 
 Bowdoin. The Hon. Geo. F. Talbot read a 
 beautiful and appreciative essay upon the 
 Genius of Longfellow. The Hon. J. W. 
 Bradbury, who was unable to be present, 
 sent a letter. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 251 
 
 Mr. Longfellow was too feeble to bear the 
 journey and the excitement ; but numbers of 
 his relatives attended the exercises. Portraits 
 and various objects of interest were exhib 
 ited, and Mr. Baxter, the poet of the occa 
 sion, as he concluded his recital, crowned 
 Longfellow s bust with a wreath from Deer- 
 ing s Woods. During the day flags were 
 flying everywhere, and the vessels in the 
 harbor hoisted all their colors. It was a 
 grand holiday, and business was generally 
 suspended. 
 
 Such an ovation was never given to an 
 author in America before. It was a deep 
 and spontaneous feeling of admiration and 
 pride that found expression in the simple 
 ceremonies. Generals, cabinet ministers, and 
 senators come and go ; they have their brief 
 season of honor and applause ; but poets, 
 like the serene stars, shine on for ages. 
 
252 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 PERSONAL TRAITS. 
 
 The public are familiar with pictures of 
 Longfellow taken at various stages in his 
 life s journey, and it is not easy to add any 
 thing to the impressions which his fine fea 
 tures and thoughtful yet tender looks have 
 made. But no picture of him of really high 
 merit as a work of art has ever been made. 
 The Lawrence portrait is admired by some, 
 and that by Healy has fine points. The 
 lithographic picture issued by the publish 
 ers of the Atlantic Monthly was undoubtedly 
 a strong likeness as regards mere accuracy of 
 lines ; but to some who knew the poet well, 
 and loved him, it was almost a grave travesty. 
 Photographs are numerous, and many of 
 them excellent. Mr. Longfellow said to the 
 writer that the one taken in Portland a few 
 years ago appeared to him the most char 
 acteristic. In his youth, and during middle 
 age, our poet was noted for his remarkable 
 taste in dress, and in the arrangement of his 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 253 
 
 fine hair. Indeed, he gave to the last the im 
 pression of a perfectly dressed man. 1 Later, 
 when the hair whitened, it was allowed to 
 grow and to disport itself at pleasure ; and 
 it often made one think of the loosely piled 
 crown of an ancient prophet. 
 
 He was of middle height, certainly not 
 more ; but almost every one who saw him 
 for the first time thought him taller. An 
 English tourist wrote of him as a tall man ; 
 
 O 
 
 but as in the same article he mentioned the 
 gray stone walls of the house, we cannot set 
 much store by his observation. The poet s 
 mother in her description of her father, Gen- 
 
 1 It may appear a trifle, although with regard to some men 
 no personal trait is trivial ; but Longfellow had his hats from 
 the same maker for over forty years. It is not necessary to 
 name the hatter: all Boston knows him. He mentioned lately 
 his recollections of Longfellow s exquisite dress, and especially 
 between 1840 and 1850 when the Fox style prevailed, intro 
 duced by Daniel Webster. He said that Longfellow in a dark 
 blue coat with gilt buttons, a buff waistcoat and black panta 
 loons, and with a well-brushed beaver (it was before the days 
 of silk hats), was the most remarkable person that was to be 
 Been on Washington Street. 
 
254 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 eral Wadsworth, says that lie was not above 
 middle height, but that " he bore himself so 
 truly " that he produced a different impres 
 sion. It is evident that Longfellow resem 
 bled his mother s father in this dignity of 
 presence and carriage. Mr. William Winter s 
 description is pleasing and picturesque : 
 
 " His natural dignity and grace, and the beauti- 
 tiful refinement of his countenance, together with 
 his perfect taste in dress and the exquisite sim 
 plicity of his manners, made him the absolute ideal 
 of what a poet should be. His voice, too, was 
 soft, sweet, and musical, and, like his face, it had the 
 innate charm of tranquillity. His eyes were blu 
 ish gray, very bright and brave, changeable under 
 the influence of emotion, (as, afterward, I often 
 saw,) but mostly calm, grave, attentive, and gen 
 tle. The habitual expression of his face was not 
 that of sadness ; and yet it was sad. Perhaps it 
 may be best described as that of serious and ten 
 der though tf illness." l 
 
 1 The New York Tribune, March 30, 1882. The whole 
 letter is extremely interesting, and gives a better idea of the 
 poet than any that has yet appeared. 
 
A BIOGRAPtirCAL SKETCH. 255 
 
 Rather too much emphasis is laid upon the 
 expression of sadness. One saw in looking 
 at Longfellow that he was a man of deep 
 and tender feelings, but his habitual expres 
 sion was far from sad. It was grave at times, 
 but often lighted up with smiles ; and the 
 consideration for others, which always dis 
 tinguishes noble natures, gave to his speech 
 and manners an indescribable charm. His 
 tact was intuitive and exquisite. He seemed 
 to foresee a dilemma, and would not allow 
 himself to be placed where he would be mis 
 judged; yet there was nothing that suggested 
 timidity or a sinuous policy ; it was the man 
 ifestation of a wise, friendly, careful, and 
 generous soul. 
 
 Mr. Winter recalls instances of Longfel 
 low s genial humor, one of which may be 
 quoted : 
 
 44 Standing in the porch one summer day, and 
 observing the noble elms in front of his house, he 
 recalled a visit made to him long before by one of 
 the many bards, now extinct, who are embalmed 
 
256 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 in Griswold. Then, suddenly assuming a burly, 
 martial air, he seemed to reproduce for me the ex 
 act figure and manner of the youthful enthusiast, 
 Avho had tossed back his long hair, gazed approv 
 ingly on the elms, and in a deep voice exclaimed, 
 4 1 see, Mr. Longfellow, that you have many trees ; 
 I love trees ! fc It was, said the poet, 4 as if he 
 gave a certificate to all the neighboring vegeta 
 tion. A few words like these, said in Longfel 
 low s peculiar, dry, humorous manner, with just a 
 twinkle of the eye and a quietly droll inflection 
 of the voice, had a certain charm of mirth that 
 cannot be described." 
 
 He was very methodical in the division of 
 his time. The morning hours were devoted 
 to work, and visitors were not admitted until 
 after twelve o clock. Only by patience and 
 perseverance could his labors have been ac 
 complished. In him were happily combined 
 two powers that are seldom seen together in 
 equal poise. His first conceptions came like 
 inspiration, and his first draughts of poems 
 were done with exceeding rapidity. He al 
 lowed the first impulse to expend itself while 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 257 
 
 lie followed where inspiration pointed. But 
 at that point, where too many poets stop, he 
 had the power to return and go over the track 
 of thought, condensing, amplifying, height 
 ening ; so that the poem, without losing its 
 early and original charms, was wrought out 
 in fair proportions, with nice gradations of 
 tone, and given a melody that would haunt 
 the reader forever. Although he could toil 
 daily over his self-imposed tasks, and was 
 able to finish a huge work like the transla 
 tion of Dante by the daily accretion of a very 
 few lines, yet it must not be forgotten that 
 he had his seasons of eager excitement, 
 the glorious, painful travail of genius; and 
 that in those supreme moments were pro 
 duced such pieces as " Sandalphon," " The 
 Warden of the Cinque Ports," "The Fire of 
 Drift-Wood," and " The Two Angels." 
 
 Visitors were received in the south front 
 room on the ground floor. This is a library, 
 containing, among other things, the author s 
 original manuscripts, bound in a long series 
 
 17 
 
258 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 of volumes. Books, letters, and papers are 
 on all sides. Tables, shelves, and even parts 
 of the floor, are covered. On his writing- 
 table were piles of letters, many of them 
 unanswered ; for the whole world during the 
 last few years of his life seemed intent on 
 burying him under piles of correspondence. 
 He pointed on one occasion to a large mass 
 of letters, over two hundred in number, and 
 said to the author that the thought of them 
 was distressing. He disliked to be consid 
 ered discourteous, but to answer all those 
 people at his time of life was impossible. 
 
 
 Upon that table are two famous inkstands. 
 One belonged to Coleridge, and bears his 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 259 
 
 name upon an ivory plate. The other was 
 Crabbe s, and was given by Crabbe s son to 
 Thomas Moore, and by him to S. C. Hall, 
 who also possessed that of Coleridge. Mr. 
 Hall, in 1872, sent both to Longfellow, to 
 
 gether with Moore s waste-paper basket, by 
 the hands of General James Grant Wilson. 
 General Wilson has lately printed the letter 
 which he received from Longfellow in re 
 turn 1 : 
 
 " Your letter and the valuable present of Mr. S. 
 C. Hall have reached me safely. Please accept my 
 best thanks for the great kindness you have shown 
 
 1 The New York Independent, April 6, 1882. 
 
260 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 in taking charge of and bringing from the Old 
 World a gift so precious as the inkstand of the 
 poet who wrote the Rhyme of the Ancient Mari 
 ner. Will you be so good as to send me the pres 
 ent address of Mr. Hall ? I wish, without delay, 
 to acknowledge this mark of his remembrance and 
 regard, and am not sure where a letter will find 
 him." 
 
 The general impression of that room is 
 fixed in memory as upon a photographer s 
 plate ; but it was so crowded with objects 
 of interest that an enumeration would be dif 
 ficult. Every one will remember the crayon 
 portraits before referred to, the fine bust of 
 Prof. G. W. Greene, and the multitudinous 
 books. 
 
 The real study was in an upper room, to 
 which none but intimate friends of the family 
 were admitted. There in one corner, at a 
 window looking out upon a lovely lawn, is 
 the standing desk shown in the picture. At 
 that desk were shaped the glowing images 
 that remain to us more lasting memorials of 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 
 
 261 
 
 the poet than any which the grateful public 
 shall raise. 
 
 It has been mentioned that on social oc 
 casions the poet was habitually abstemious, 
 and his whole life was an exhibition of per- 
 
262 HENRY WADS WORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 feet self-control. It may be mentioned, how 
 ever, that like Tennyson, and like Lowell, his 
 neighbor, he was fond of the allurements of 
 tobacco, and always offered his visitor a 
 cigar. Pipes he was not partial to, at least 
 within doors, but on his walks, especially on 
 frosty mornings, he often followed at a suit 
 able distance behind some laborer who was 
 smoking a grimly colored " T. D." that Ten 
 nyson would have envied, and enjoyed the 
 just perceptible odor of the peculiar thin blue 
 smoke. 
 
 He was never really robust, although his 
 natural vigor was sufficient to sustain him in 
 his labors and studies ; but his care for his 
 health was continuous, and he persisted in 
 out-door exercise even when it was far from 
 agreeable. In the spring or autumn, when 
 raw or blustering winds prevailed, he would 
 wrap himself in warm garments and go out 
 to walk, although he might do no more 
 than pace along his veranda on the sheltered 
 side of the house. His health was generally 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 265 
 
 excellent, but for a few years before his 
 death he suffered exceedingly from neuralgic 
 pains. It is a remarkable fact that his sight 
 was unimpaired to the last, and that he never 
 had occasion to use glasses. 
 
 His handwriting was peculiar, but very 
 distinct. We give a few specimen lines of 
 his manuscript, which have been very kind 
 ly furnished us by the family for this pur 
 pose. 
 
 Referring once more to his correspondence, 
 it should be said that his industry and self- 
 sacrificing benevolence in giving counsel to 
 young writers were commendable. His sym 
 pathy for the anxious aspirants for fame was 
 inexhaustible. Nearly every writer of our 
 time has borne testimony to this trait in let 
 ters published since the poet s death. Mr. 
 Winter s letters have been referred to, but a 
 very great number of similar tributes have 
 been printed, which it is impossible even to 
 mention. Such a mass of letters, with anec 
 dotes and traits, have appeared, that it would 
 
266 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 not be difficult to make a kind of Longfellow 
 biography by the aid of a little industry and 
 a pair of scissors. 
 
 There are things, however, not known to 
 the public; and as in some instances they 
 concern persons lately deceased or still liv 
 ing, they cannot now be mentioned, except in 
 a general way. His personal charities were 
 constant and large in amount. Many an 
 author and artist has received not only un 
 solicited sympathy, but a substantial check 
 in his hour of need. There are persons who 
 will read this with grateful recollections and 
 tears. 
 
 Say what we will, the personality of a poet 
 is an inevitable element of his fame. And 
 proud as we may be of Longfellow s merited 
 renown, we have an added respect and ad 
 miration growing out of his pure and noble 
 life, his thoughtful kindness, and his unob 
 trusive benevolence. So that it may be 
 doubted if the passing away of any of the 
 great masters of our English speech would 
 
A B10GRA PHICAL SKETCH. 267 
 
 have made so deep an impression, or left 
 such a void in the world. 
 
 There is little room to mention the honors 
 received, or the illustrious visitors enter 
 tained by the poet. Foreigners of distinc 
 tion were always taken to see him and his 
 historic residence. Among the latest were 
 the descendants of Counts Rochambeau and 
 De Grasse, and the Emperor of Brazil. He 
 was an honorary member of numerous learn 
 ed societies. In 1859 Harvard College con 
 ferred upon him the degree of LL. D. In 
 June, 1868, the University of Cambridge in 
 England made him D. C. L. On the 4th of 
 July in the same year he visited the Queen 
 at Windsor, by command ; and his reception 
 is said to have been most cordial. In July, 
 1869, the University of Oxford also conferred 
 upon him the title of D. C. L. 
 
 Throughout the Canadian provinces Long 
 fellow has been honored as much as if he 
 were a subject of their Queen. In Nova 
 Scotia the regard for him is especially strong; 
 
268 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 if the canonization of a poet were possible, 
 he would be the patron saint of the Acadian 
 peninsula. In Montreal and Quebec there 
 seems to be no notion of a boundary line 
 in literature. The sympathies of the writers 
 in those cities have reached over to us ; 
 and their touching articles since Longfel 
 low s death have made us feel more intense 
 ly the pulsation of the common blood in our 
 veins. 1 
 
 LAST HOURS. 
 
 During several years past Mr. Longfellow s 
 health was a matter of some solicitude to 
 himself and friends. His eyes had not lost 
 their lustre, and his voice was clear and 
 steady ; but there was a sense of insecurity, 
 though for no very apparent reason. He had 
 suffered severely, often excruciatingly, from 
 neuralgic pains, sometimes in the form of sci 
 atica ; and later he had been threatened with 
 
 1 See in the Quebec Morning Chronicle for March 25, 1882, 
 a warm-hearted and able article by Mr. George Stewart, Jr. 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 269 
 
 a still more formidable malady, from which 
 he recovered. The writer saw him two weeks 
 before his death, and well remembers his 
 light and active step, his beaming counte 
 nance and cheery voice. He had not seemed 
 in better health for years. The shadow of 
 the last enemy had not fallen upon him. But 
 in a few days the news was given out that he 
 was seriously ill with peritonitis, and the 
 daily bulletins had an ominous tone. He 
 sank rapidly, and on the 24th of March, at 
 a quarter past three P. M., he expired. His 
 family and near relatives were with him. 
 
 He was buried on Sunday, the 26th. There 
 was a simple service at the house, conducted 
 by the brother of the deceased, the Rev. 
 Samuel Longfellow, in the presence of the 
 family and a very few intimate Mends. 
 Among the latter were Ealph Waldo Emer 
 son, who has since died, Oliver Wendell 
 Holmes, George William Curtis, Charles 
 Eliot Norton, and George W. Greene. 
 
 The body was carried to Mount Auburn 
 
270 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 Cemetery, and placed in his proprietary lot, 
 on Indian Ridge, not far from the entrance. 
 A memorial service was held later in the 
 day in Appleton Chapel, in the College 
 grounds, at which an immense audience was 
 present. The family shrank from having a 
 public funeral ; but if it could have been 
 allowed, multitudes would have availed them 
 selves of the sad privilege of looking once 
 more upon the venerated face. 
 
 As has b,een said before, the newspapers 
 were filled with accounts of the dead poet. 
 Elaborate biographies and critical estimates, 
 with letters and anecdotes, were printed 
 throughout the United States and Great Brit 
 ain. Such universal interest has seldom, if 
 ever, been shown. And it is certain that the 
 demise of no living man would cause such 
 wide-spread and lasting grief. 
 
 The citizens of Cambridge have already 
 taken measures to place a memorial statue 
 near the house in which he lived, in an open 
 field extending- towards the Charles, the 
 
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 271 
 
 prospect of which he dearly loved and often 
 
 sung. 
 
 After the natural tears at parting, there 
 could be no regret felt for the close of such 
 a perfect and well-rounded life. From boy 
 hood he had borne his part, and had been 
 faithful to the talents intrusted to him. His 
 life had been not only without stain, but 
 without shadow; it was a life that shone 
 with a light like that of the blessed ; it was a 
 life full of toil, but crowned with honor and 
 with the full fruition of his hopes ; it was 
 a life hallowed by the purest affection, by 
 the sweet solace of children, by the devoted 
 love of friends, by the reverent respect of 
 fellow-citizens and neighbors, and by the ab 
 solute worship of humble dependents, who 
 knew his open and generous heart. 
 
 He had accomplished a vast work, which 
 had filled out the whole of his allotted time. 
 He could have had little to regret ; and 
 having reached a period when, according to 
 the Psalmist, the continuance of his strength 
 
272 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 would be only "labor and sorrow/ he could 
 calmly resign himself to the last great 
 change, sustained by an immortal hope. 
 
 In coming times the lover of poetry, as 
 he visits Cambridge, will regard the poet s 
 grave as a holy spot. The grand old house, 
 let us hope, will remain as he left it, as long 
 as Time shall spare it. And the sculptor will 
 mould in bronze his venerated form and 
 noble features in classic and enduring grace, 
 so that something like his presence may be 
 seen to overlook the beautiful landscape. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 No. I. 
 
 FEOM THE PROCEEDINGS OF THE MAINE HISTOR 
 ICAL SOCIETY ON THE OCCASION OF LONGFEL 
 LOW S SEVENTY-FIFTH BIRTHDAY. 
 
 ADDRESS OF THE HON. W. G. BARROWS, OF 
 BRUNSWICK. 
 
 I BELIEVE it to be a part of my pleasant duty 
 to state the object of our meeting. 
 
 The first notice of it which I saw in the news 
 papers mentioned it, if I remember rightly, as a 
 meeting to do honor to the poet Longfellow on 
 the occasion of his seventy-fifth birthday. Per 
 haps it would be more accurate to say that it is a 
 meeting to testify our sense of the honor he has 
 done to this, his birthplace. It is very little we 
 can do to honor him whose own works have long 
 ago crowned him a king in the hearts of men, to 
 bear sway wherever and so Jong as the English 
 language is spoken or understood. 
 18 
 
274 APPENDIX. 
 
 We meet to claim for this good city the honor 
 which from time immemorial has always been 
 conceded to the birthplaces of poets and seers, . 
 to do our part to link the name of " the dear old 
 town " with his, as he has linked it in the loving 
 description which he has given in the idyl of 
 " My Lost Youth." 
 
 For a more potent reason than the chiselled in 
 scription on the ancient mill which links the name 
 of Oliver Basselin with the Valley of the Vire, in 
 all coming time, shall " the poet s memory here 
 of the landscape make a part," because we know 
 that the lyrics of our poet are indeed 
 
 " Songs of that high art 
 "Which, as winds do in the pine, 
 Find an answer in each heart," 
 
 and we want to bear witness to this. 
 
 More than this, we meet to testify our sense of 
 personal obligation to him, not merely for the ex 
 quisite pleasure afforded by the wonderful melody 
 of his verse, but for the didactic force that has 
 impressed it on us that 
 
 "All common things, each day s events, 
 That with the hour begin and end, 
 Our pleasures and our discontents, 
 Are rounds by which we may ascend. " 
 
 It is no mere gospel of idle contentment with 
 pleasant trifles that he has preached to us. Even 
 
APPENDIX. 275 
 
 the dullest of us could not read him without being 
 moved at least to strive to place ourselves on a 
 higher plane, Excelsior ! In ancient days poet 
 and seer were convertible terras, and the best of 
 our modern poets are prophets also. What in 
 sight was it which made him, in January, 1861, 
 rouse us with 
 
 " Listen, my children, and you shall hear 
 Of the midnight ride of Paul llevere," 
 
 when all unconsciously we stood so near another 
 and bloodier Lexington ? 
 
 Philanthropy of the purest, patriotism of the 
 most exalted kind have by turns inspired him ; 
 and whether he sings of the Slave s Dream, or 
 the Warning of 
 
 "The poor blind Samson in this land 
 Shorn of his strength and bound in bonds of steel," 
 
 or of the Cumberland sunk in Hampton Roads, 
 or of the beautiful youth slain at the ford, the 
 lesson was timely, and it told the story well of the 
 heroism and endurance which carried this nation 
 through its last great struggle triumphant. We 
 meet to pass an hour in expressing our admiration 
 for the bard, the scholar, and the patriot, since 
 every utterance from his youth up has been fine 
 and noble, and has tended to raise this nation in the 
 scale of humanity. I am proud to say that when 
 he lived with us he was an active member of. this 
 
276 APPENDIX. 
 
 society, and the ripe and golden fruits of his his 
 torical studies we have in the story of Priscilla 
 the Puritan maiden, in the pensive loveliness of 
 Evangeline, that tale of the " strength, submission 
 and patience " of the Acadian refugees, and in the 
 musical song of Hiawatha, and many another 
 gem set in tuneful verse. But after all it seems 
 to me that that which brings him nearer to our 
 hearts, and has more to do with bringing us to 
 gether here to-night than his wide-spread renown 
 or the fame that attaches to his more stately and 
 elaborate poems, is the light which he has thrown 
 around home and hearth and heart in some of 
 those lighter but unequalled lyrics which from 
 time to time have u gone through us with a 
 thrill," which are haunting our memories still, 
 and which are and will always be dear to us 
 because dear to those whom we love. Who of 
 us can think of home, now, and all that we hold 
 dear in it, without somehow associating with it 
 and them reminiscences of the. Footsteps of An 
 gels, the Golden Milestone, the Old Clock on the 
 Stairs, the Children s Hour, the Fire of Drift- 
 Wood, the Wind over the Chimney, and Day 
 break, and Twilight, and the Curfew, and the 
 Psalm, and the Goblet of Life, and the Reaper 
 and the Flowers ? And where can I stop, hav 
 ing begun to enumerate? 
 
APPENDIX. 277 
 
 For nearly thirty years I have occupied the 
 house he lived in when in Brunswick, an old 
 house whose first proprietors have long since 
 passed away, and I sometimes wonder whether 
 it is, in his thought, one of the Haunted Houses 
 
 " Through whose open doors 
 The harmless phantoms on their errands glide, 
 "With feet that make no sound upon the floors." 
 
 Since the wonderful legend of Sandalphon first 
 made a lodgment in my memory, more than a 
 score of years ago, I cannot number the times I 
 have been called upon to repeat it in the still 
 ness of the evening hour, and in the weary night 
 watches, because its melodious numbers had in 
 them a spell " to quiet the fever and pain " of 
 one who has now for years breathed the fra 
 grance that is " wafted through the streets of 
 the city immortal." And hence it is that "the 
 legend I feel is a part of the hunger and thirst of 
 the heart," and my warmest gratitude goes forth 
 to him who ministered comfort to the invalid in 
 the sweet strains that breathe unwavering faith 
 and trust in the good All-Father. Hence I say 
 that we meet here to express, not simply our ad 
 miration of the poet, our sense of obligation to 
 the teacher, the patriot and philanthropist, but 
 also our reverent affection for the man who has 
 
278 APPENDIX. 
 
 done so much to brighten and cheer not only our 
 own lives, but the lives of them we love, in sick 
 ness and in health. 
 
 Not he the poet of despair, or morbid melan 
 choly, or depressing doubt, misbegotten by the 
 wild self-conceit which assumes that the finite 
 human intellect is capable of penetrating all 
 mysteries because it has mastered some, and 
 madly argues that it is a proof of superior wis 
 dom to reject everything it cannot understand. 
 Not so he, but the part of a broad Christian 
 faith and an unfading hope that " what we know 
 not now, we shall know hereafter," if we strive 
 in earnest to rise above " that which is of the 
 earth, earthy." 
 
 I think his motto in all his productions must 
 have been, " Nee satis est pulchra esse poemata 
 dulcia sunto." 
 
 "Tis not enough a poem s finely writ, 
 It must afiect and captivate the soul." 
 
 If success can be predicated of any mortal life, 
 surely his has been a success. 
 
 The Maine Historical Society and their guests 
 assembled at his birthplace to celebrate the birth 
 day of their former member, the renowned poet 
 Longfellow, send him their fervent and united 
 wishes for his health and happiness. 
 
APPENDIX. 279 
 
 MEMOIR OF GENERAL PELEG WADSWORTH, BY THE 
 HON. WILLIAM GOOLD, OF WINDHAM. 
 
 The pleasant duty assigned to me for this occa 
 sion is to trace the origin and history of General 
 "VVadsworth, the maternal grandfather of Henry 
 Wadsworth Longfellow, he who had the mil 
 itary oversight of our frontier District of Maine, 
 immediately after it was found that the British 
 lodgment at Bagaduce in 1779 was intended to 
 be permanent. 
 
 Peleg Wadsworth was the son of Deacon Peleg 
 Wadsworth of Duxbury, Massachusetts, and the 
 fifth in descent from Christopher Wadsworth, who 
 came from England and settled in that town 
 previously to 1632, and whose known descendants 
 in the United States are now numbered by thou 
 sands. 
 
 Peleg Wadsworth, Jr. was born at Duxbury, 
 May 6, 1748. He graduated at Harvard College 
 in the class of 1769, which numbered thirty-nine, 
 and included several honorable names, which 
 added lustre to the class. One of these was The- 
 ophilus Parsons, who came to Falmouth as a 
 school-teacher in 1770, and studied law with The- 
 ophilus Bradbury ; but the Revolutionary troubles 
 drove him away, and he became Chief Justice 
 of the Massachusetts Supreme Court. Another 
 
280 APPENDIX. 
 
 member of the class was Alexander Scammell, 
 also of Duxbury, who, after a brilliant career in 
 the American army, received an inhuman wound 
 after being taken prisoner at the siege of York- 
 town, of which he died a month after. Both 
 Wadsworth and Scammell after graduation taught 
 school at Plymouth. In 1772 Wadsworth mar 
 ried Elizabeth Bartlett of that town. Their 
 children, through their mother and grandmother 
 Wadsworth, who was Susanna Sampson, inher 
 ited the blood of five of the Mayflower pilgrims, 
 including Elder Brewster and Captain John 
 Alden. 
 
 Immediately after the outrage at Lexington, 
 Peleg Wadsworth raised a company of minute- 
 men in the Old Colony, of which the Continen 
 tal Congress commissioned him Captain in Sep 
 tember, 1775. He was engineer under General 
 Thomas in laying out the defences of Roxbury 
 in 1776. He was in Colonel Catton s regiment, 
 which formed a part of a detachment which was 
 ordered to throw up intrenchments on Dorchester 
 Heights, and was appointed Aid to General Ward 
 when the heights were occupied in March. These 
 works compelled Howe s fleet to leave Boston in 
 haste. In 1778 Wadsworth was appointed Adju 
 tant-General of his State. 
 
 In 1779 the British naval and army officers at 
 
APPENDIX. 281 
 
 Halifax became sensible that they were suffering 
 from American privateers which frequented the 
 Penobscot waters, owing to their perfect knowl 
 edge of the numerous coves and harbors which 
 they could run into at any time to avoid the 
 British cruisers. 
 
 The Admiral in command foresaw the advan 
 tage that would be gained by establishing a naval 
 and military post in this quarter as a harbor of 
 refuge for ships and fugitive Loyalists, and to 
 command the near coast and harbor, from whence 
 they could obtain a supply of some kinds of ship- 
 timber for the Royal dockyard at Halifax. This 
 was the year after the French king had assumed 
 our quarrel with the mother country, and had 
 sent the large fleet and army to our assistance 
 which gave the Colonies confidence, and made 
 them more aggressive. 
 
 In June, 1779, it was decided at Halifax to send 
 General McLane with a fleet to occupy Bagaduce, 
 as the harbor best situated for their purpose. He 
 arrived on the 12th of June, with nine hundred 
 troops and eight or nine vessels, all less than a 
 frigate, under the command of Captain Henry 
 Mowatt, who had become detestable to all Amer 
 icans by his cruel burning of old Falmonth four 
 years previous. The people of Maine appealed to 
 the General Court of Massachusetts for protection, 
 
282 APPENDIX. 
 
 and to have the invaders driven off by an imme 
 diate expedition before they could have time to 
 complete their works of defence. The Massachu 
 setts Board of War were instructed by the Legis 
 lature to collect a fleet, State and national, and, if 
 necessary, to impress any private armed vessels in 
 the harbors of the State into their service, under 
 the promise of fair compensation for all losses 
 and detention. The executive department of the 
 Province was then composed of the Council, 
 there was no State Governor until the next year. 
 The Council ordered Brigadier- Generals Thomp 
 son of Cumberland and Gushing of Lincoln to 
 detach severally six hundred men from each of 
 their brigades, and form them into two regiments. 
 General Frost of York was directed to detail three 
 hundred men from his brigade for a reinforcement, 
 if needed. 
 
 The fleet consisted of nineteen armed vessels, 
 carrying 344 guns, and convoying twenty-four 
 transports. The flag-ship was the new Conti 
 nental frigate Warren. Of the others, nine were 
 ships, six brigs, and three sloops. The command 
 of the fleet was intrusted to Richard Saltonstall 
 of Connecticut, an officer of some naval experi 
 ence. One hundred Massachusetts artillerists 
 were embarked at Boston under their former 
 commander, Lieut.-Col. Paul Revere, he who 
 
APPENDIX. 283 
 
 carried the news to Hancock and Adams at Lex 
 ington that the British troops were on the road 
 from Boston in 1775. The command of the land 
 forces was given to Solomon Lovell, of Wey- 
 mouth, Mass., the brigadier-general of the militia 
 of Suffolk, which then included Norfolk County. 
 He was a man of courage, but no war experience. 
 Peleg Wads worth, then Adjutant-General of Mas 
 sachusetts, was the second in command. He had 
 seen some service on Dorchester Heights during 
 the siege of Boston and in other places. The 
 ordnance was intrusted to the command of Colo 
 nel Revere. 
 
 The Cumberland County regiment was under 
 the command of Colonel Mitchell, of North Yar 
 mouth. The expedition was popular, and the 
 people engaged in it with alacrity and zeal. Fal- 
 mouth and Cape Elizabeth contributed a company 
 each, consisting of volunteers from the most re 
 spectable families. 
 
 Under date of June 20, Parson Smith of Fal- 
 mouth records, " People are everywhere in this 
 State spiritedly appearing in the intended expe 
 dition to Penobscot in pursuit of the British fleet 
 and army there." This was a State expedition, 
 for which Massachusetts advanced fifty thousand 
 pounds. 
 
 When the fleet was ready to sail from Towns- 
 
234 APPENDIX. 
 
 bend, now Boothbay, tbe place of rendezvous, 
 General Lovell s land forces numbered less tban 
 one thousand men, who had been paraded to 
 gether only once, then at Boothbay. They were 
 raw militia who had seen no former service, ex 
 cept, perhaps, some individuals who had been in 
 the Continental army for a short time. It was a 
 spirited body of men. Their fathers had been at 
 the siege of Louisburg thirty years before. In 
 one month from the commencement to organize 
 the expedition it made its appearance in Penob- 
 scot Bay. 
 
 The British commander heard of the American 
 fleet four days before its arrival, and worked night 
 and day to render his fortifications defensible, yet 
 it was far from being completed. He at once 
 despatched a vessel to Halifax, asking for assist 
 ance. On the 28th of July, after waiting two 
 days for a calm, our vessels were drawn up in line 
 of battle, and two hundred militiamen and two 
 hundred marines were landed. The best landing- 
 places were exposed to Mo watt s guns, and no 
 landing could be effected except on the western 
 side, which was a precipice 150 feet high, and 
 very steep. This was guarded by a line of the 
 enemy posted on the summit, who opened a brisk 
 fire as soon as the boats came within gunshot, 
 but the shot from the vessels went over their 
 
APPENDIX. 285 
 
 heads. As soon as the men landed, the boats re 
 turned to the fleet, cutting off all means of retreat. 
 No force could reach the summit in the face of 
 such a fire of musketry, so the American troops 
 were divided into three parties. One sought a 
 practicable ascent at the right, one at the left, 
 and the centre kept up a brisk fire to attract the 
 attention of the enemy on the heights. Both the 
 right and left parties gained the summit, followed 
 by the centre, in the face of a galling fire, which 
 they were powerless to return. Captain Warren s 
 company of volunteers from Falmouth were the 
 first to form on the heights, when all closed on the 
 enemy, who, after a sharp skirmish, made their 
 escape, leaving thirty men killed and wounded. 
 Of the attacking party of four hundred, one hun 
 dred were killed or wounded. The engagement 
 was short, but great pluck and courage were 
 shown by the Americans. It has been said that 
 no more brilliant exploit than this was accom 
 plished by our forces during the war ; but this is 
 the only bright spot in the record of the expedi 
 tion. After the retreat of the enemy some slight 
 intrenchments were thrown up by the sadly weak 
 ened little detachment, within seven hundred 
 yards of the enemy s main works. These intrench 
 ments were held by our men, and thus was made 
 a good beginning. 
 
286 APPENDIX. 
 
 The same morning a council of war was called 
 of the land and naval officers. The former were 
 for summoning the garrison to surrender, but the 
 Commodore and the most of his officers were op 
 posed to the measure. It was next proposed to 
 storm the fort ; but the Commodore refused to 
 land any more of his marines, as those at the first 
 landing suffered severely. The land force alone 
 was deemed insufficient for a successful attack 
 on the works, and a whaleboat express was de 
 spatched to Boston for a reinforcement. General 
 Lovell now commenced a regular investment of 
 works by zigzag trenches for Revere s insuffi 
 cient cannon, and approached to musket-shot 
 distance of the fort, so that not one of the gar 
 rison dared to show his head above the embank 
 ments. 
 
 It was afterwards ascertained that, if a surren 
 der had been demanded when first proposed, the 
 commanding general was prepared to capitulate, 
 so imperfect were his defences. Commodore Sal- 
 tonstall was self-willed, and disagreed with Gen 
 erals Lovell and Wadsworth. During the two 
 weeks delay the British strengthened their de 
 fences, and enclosed their works with chevaux- 
 de-frise, with an abatis outside of all, which ren 
 dered the storming project impracticable if the 
 expected reinforcement had arrived. The Ameri- 
 
APPENDIX. 287 
 
 can Commodore kept up a daily cannonade with a 
 show of an attempt to enter the harbor, but it 
 was only a show. A deserter from the Ameri 
 cans informed the British commander of an in 
 tended attack the next day, which prevented any 
 success. 
 
 On the 13th of August a lookout vessel brought 
 General Lovell news that a British squadron of 
 seven sail was entering Penobscot Bay, in answer 
 to General McLane s application to Halifax on 
 the first discovery of the American fleet. A re 
 treat was immediately ordered by General Lovell, 
 and conducted by General Wadsworth in the 
 night, with so much skill that the whole of the 
 troops were on board the transports undiscovered 
 by the enemy. The British squadron entered the 
 harbor the next morning, consisting of one sev 
 enty-four gunship, one frigate, and five smaller 
 vessels, all under the command of Sir John 
 Collier, with fifteen hundred troops on board. 
 Saltonstall kept his position until the transports 
 retreated up the river, when a general broadside 
 from Collier s ship caused a disorderly flight, and 
 a general chase and indiscriminate destruction of 
 the American fleet. Several were blown up by 
 their own crews, to prevent their falling into the 
 hands of the enemy. 
 
 The troops and crews of the vessels left them 
 
288 APPENDIX. 
 
 for the woods. Most of the officers and men of 
 the fleet and army made their way through the 
 woods guided by the Penobscot Indians, who were 
 friendly to the Colonies through the war for in 
 dependence. These struggling parties suffered 
 every privation before reaching the settlements, 
 subsisting on such game and fish as they were 
 able to obtain. A large number were piloted by 
 the Indians to Fort Halifax, where they were 
 recruited and returned home by the Kennebec. 
 
 A court of inquiry as to the cause of the failure 
 of the expedition gave as their opinion, " That the 
 principal reason of the failure of the expedition 
 was the want of the proper spirit on the part of 
 the Commodore. That the destruction of the fleet 
 was occasioned essentially because of his not ex 
 erting himself at all in the time of the retreat, by 
 opposing the enemy s foremost ships in pursuit. 
 .... That General Lovell, throughout the expe 
 dition and retreat, acted with proper courage and 
 spirit; and had he been furnished with all the 
 men ordered for the service, or been properly 
 supported by the Commodore, he would probably 
 have reduced the enemy." The court spoke in 
 the highest terms of General Wadsworth. Upon 
 this report the General Court adjudged "that 
 Commodore Saltonstall be incompetent ever after 
 to hold a commission in the service of the State, 
 
APPENDIX. 289 
 
 and that Generals Lovell and Wadsworth be hon 
 orably acquitted." 
 
 In answer to General LovelTs appeal for assist 
 ance by the whaleboat express to Boston, a regi 
 ment under Colonel Henry Jackson proceeded to 
 Fal mouth on their way to Penobscot, when they 
 heard of the disaster to the expedition. 
 
 When I was a boy, sixty years ago, many of the 
 men of Cumberland County who had been in the 
 Bagaduce expedition were then living, some of 
 them were my own relatives. I have often heard 
 angry discussions between those of the land and 
 those of the naval service. The landsmen always 
 assumed the aggressive, and had the best of the 
 argument. It was the opinion of both, that, if 
 General Wadsworth had been in chief command 
 on shore, the gallant detachments which first 
 gained the heights could not have been restrained 
 until they had crossed bayonets with the garrison 
 of the half-built fortress, and that was the time to 
 have carried the works. 
 
 After the failure of the Bagaduce expedition 
 the British pursued a system of outrageous plun 
 dering on the shores of Penobscot Bay and the 
 neighboring coast, in which they were piloted and 
 assisted by the numerous Tories who had gathered 
 at Bagaduce and in the vicinity. To protect 
 the people from this plundering, the Continental 
 19 
 
290 APPENDIX. 
 
 Congress in 1780 ordered six hundred men to be 
 detached from the three eastern brigades of the 
 State, for eight months service. Every soldier was 
 ordered to march well equipped, within twenty- 
 four hours after he was detached, or pay a fine of 
 sixty pounds currency, which was to be applied to 
 procure a substitute. The command of the whole 
 Eastern department, between the Piscataqua and 
 St. Croix, was given to General Wadswortb, with 
 power to raise more troops if they were needed. 
 He was also empowered to declare and execute 
 martial law over territory ten miles in width, 
 upon the coast eastward of Kennebec, according 
 to the rules of the American army. His head 
 quarters were established at Thomaston. For the 
 purpose of protecting his friends, the General 
 found it necessary to draw a line of demarkation 
 between them and their foes. He issued a proc 
 lamation prohibiting any intercourse with the 
 enemy. This paper, of which I have a copy, is 
 dated at Thomaston, 18th April, 1780, and de 
 clares the penalty of military execution for any 
 infringement of it. The people of the islands 
 east of Penobscot to Union River, " from their 
 exposed situation," were ordered to hold them 
 selves as neutrals. All persons joining the enemy 
 were to be treated as deserters from the Ameri 
 can army. 
 
APPENDIX. 291 
 
 This proclamation did not liave the desired 
 effect. The most bitter of the Tories supposed 
 that they would be protected by General McLane, 
 but he disapproved of their plundering. Cap 
 tain Mo watt of detestable memory, who was in 
 command of the British squadron, was of a dif 
 ferent character, and encouraged their depre 
 dations, when they became very aggressive. A 
 stanch friend of the American cause at Broad 
 Bay, named Soule, was shot in his bed, and his 
 wife was wounded. This drew from General 
 Wadsworth another proclamation, denouncing 
 death to any one convicted of secreting or giv 
 ing aid to the enemy. Soon after a man named 
 Baum was detected in secreting and aiding Tories 
 to reach Castine. He was tried by court-martial, 
 found guilty of treason, and General Wadsworth 
 ordered his execution by hanging the next morn 
 ing, which was carried into effect. This effectu 
 ally checked the intercourse with Bagaduce. A 
 daughter of General Wadsworth, in writing of the 
 circumstance to a son-in-law, in 1834, said, " My 
 mother has told me that my father was greatly 
 distressed at being obliged to execute the penalty 
 of the law." General Wads worth s wife was with 
 him at the time. 
 
 After the term of service of the six hundred 
 troops had expired, General Wadsworth was left 
 
292 APPENDIX. 
 
 with only six soldiers as a guard at his house, it 
 being his intention also to leave within a week or 
 two. His family consisted of his wife and son of 
 five years, and Miss Fenno of Boston, a particu 
 lar friend of Mrs. Wads worth s. 
 
 Made acquainted with his defenceless condi 
 tion by spies, General McLane, at Bagaduce, de 
 spatched a party of twenty-five men under Lieu 
 tenant Stockton to take him prisoner. They left 
 their vessel four miles off and marched to his res 
 idence, arriving at about midnight, February 18, 
 1781. The General had plenty of fire-arms in his 
 sleeping-room, and when his house was entered 
 by the enemy he made a determined defence, 
 until he was shot in the arm, when he surren 
 dered, and was hurried off to the vessel. When 
 he became weak from the loss of blood, he was 
 set on a horse for the march. He suffered much 
 from cold and pain from his wound. He was 
 taken across the bay to Castine, and imprisoned 
 in Fort George. He knew nothing for two weeks 
 of the fate of his family, who had been exposed 
 to the firing. At the request of General Wads- 
 worth, General McLane sent a lieutenant with a 
 boat s crew to Camden, across the bay, with let 
 ters to his family and to the Governor of the 
 State, which were inspected previous to sealing. 
 Finally, a letter was received from Mrs. Wads- 
 
APPENDIX. 293 
 
 worth containing an assurance that they were 
 unharmed. General McLane treated his prisoner 
 very politely, inviting him to eat at his own 
 table, with guard of an orderly-sergeant, but re 
 fused him a parole or exchange. In the spring, 
 four months after his seizure, Mrs. Wadsworth 
 and Miss Fenno, witli a passport from General 
 McLane, arrived at Bagaduce, and were politely 
 entertained at the fort for ten days. In the mean 
 time orders had arrived from the commanding 
 general at New York, in answer to a communica 
 tion from General McLane. Their purport was 
 learned from a hint conveyed to Miss Fenno by 
 an officer, that the General was not to be ex 
 changed, but would be sent to some English 
 prison. When Miss Fenno left she gave the Gen 
 eral all the information she dared to. She said, 
 " General Wadsworth, take care of yourself." 
 This the General interpreted to mean that he was 
 to be conveyed to England, and he determined to 
 make his escape from the fortress if possible. 
 Soon after, a vessel arrived from Boston with a 
 flag of truce from the Governor and Council, ask 
 ing for an exchange for the General, and bringing 
 a sum of money for his use, but the request was 
 refused. 
 
 Major Barton, a resident of St. George s River, 
 who had served the previous summer under Gen- 
 
294 APPENDIX. 
 
 eral Wads worth, was a prisoner in the same room 
 with him. After a long preparation, and by ob 
 taining a gimlet from the fort barber, they made 
 their escape on the night of the 18th of June by 
 passing through an opening previously and labo 
 riously made in the board ceiling with the gim 
 let, the marks of which were filled with bread. 
 They adroitly evaded the sentinels, but got sep 
 arated in the darkness, both, however, getting off 
 safely. 
 
 They kept much in the shoal water of the 
 shores, to prevent being tracked by the blood 
 hounds which were kept at the fort for that pur 
 pose. The two friends came accidental!} 7 together 
 on the next day. Major Barton dropped a glove 
 in the darkness, which pointed out to their pursu 
 ers the route they had taken on leaving the fort. 
 They however found a canoe, got across the riv 
 er, and pursued their course through the w^oods 
 by a pocket compass to the settlements, and were 
 assisted to Thomaston, after much suffering. On 
 arriving at his former residence, General Wads- 
 worth found that his family had left for Bos 
 ton, whither he followed them, after a brief 
 stop at Falmouth, where he finally fixed his resi 
 dence. 
 
 Here is a note from the General s daughter, 
 mother of our poet : 
 
APPENDIX. 295 
 
 " Perhaps you would like to see my father s picture 
 as it was when we came to this town after the war of 
 the Kevolution, in 1784. Imagine to yourself a man of 
 middle size, well-proportioned, with a military air, and 
 who carried himself so truly that many thought him tall. 
 His dress, a bright scarlet coat, buff small-clothes and 
 vest, full ruffled bosom, ruffles over the hands, white 
 stockings, shoes with silver buckles, white cravat bow in 
 front, hair well powdered and tied behind in a club, so 
 
 called Of his character others may speak, but I 
 
 cannot forbear to claim for him an uncommon share of 
 benevolence and kind feeling. 
 
 Z. W. L. 
 
 "January, 1848." 
 
 In 1797, President D wight of Yale College, 
 who bad been a chaplain in the American army, 
 visited Portland, and was the guest of General 
 Wadsworth, from whom he says he u received an 
 uninterrupted succession of civilities." He also 
 received from the General and wrote out a minute 
 and thrilling account of his capture, imprison 
 ment, and escape, which covers twenty-five printed 
 pages. General Wadsworth, at the time of its 
 publication, vouched for its accuracy. 1 
 
 The record of the births of his eleven children 
 shows the places where the General lived at the 
 time. The oldest was born at Kingston, Mass., 
 
 1 See Dwight s Travels in New England. 
 
296 APPENDIX. 
 
 in 1774, and died the next year at Dorchester. 
 Charles Lee was born at Plymouth, January, 1776, 
 and died at Hiram, Sept. 29, 1848. Zilpah was 
 born at Duxbury, Jan. 6, 1778; died in Portland, 
 March 12, 1851. Elizabeth, born in Boston, Sept. 
 21, 1779 ; died in Portland, Aug. 1, 1802. John, 
 born at Plymouth, Sept. 1, 1781 ; graduated H. C. 
 in 1800 ; died at Hiram, Jan. 22, 1860. Lucia, 
 born at Plymouth, June 12, 1783 ; died in Port 
 land, Oct. 17, 1864. Henry, born at Falmouth, 
 Me., June 21, 1785; killed at Tripoli, Sept. 4, 
 1804. George, born in Portland, Jan. 6, 1788; 
 died in Philadelphia, April 8, 1816. Alexander 
 Scammell, born in Portland, May 7, 1790 ; died 
 at Washington, April 5, 1851. Samuel Bartlett, 
 born in Portland, Sept. 1, 1791 ; died at Eastport, 
 Oct. 2, 1874. Peleg, born in Portland, Oct. 10, 
 1793 ; died at Hiram, Jan. 17, 1875. 
 
 The birth of a son in Plymouth, Sept. 7, 1781, 
 shows that General Wadsworth took his family 
 there on leaving his command in Maine. A daugh 
 ter was also born there in 1783. It is known that 
 he came to Falmouth in 1784. In December of 
 that year he purchased of John Ingersoll of Bos 
 ton, shipwright, for one hundred pounds lawful 
 money, the lot of land in Falmouth on which he 
 erected his buildings for a home. In the deed he 
 is named of that town. The purchase is described 
 
APPENDIX 297 
 
 as "lying northeast of a lot now possessed by 
 Captain Arthur McLellan, being four rods in 
 front, and running towards Back Cove, and con 
 taining one and one half acres." This is the Con 
 gress Street lot on which he erected his house 
 and store. 
 
 Dr. Deane in his Diary says his store and barn 
 were built in 1784. While he was building his 
 house, he with his family lived in a building at 
 the south corner of Franklin and Congress Streets, 
 belonging to Captain Jonathan Paine. It was 
 built for a barn, but probably had been occupied 
 before as a dwelling, as it escaped Mo watt s burn 
 ing ten years before, which compelled well-to-do 
 people to occupy very humble quarters. This 
 building was long afterwards finished for a dwell 
 ing-house by Elijah Adams, and burned in 1866. 
 In the spring of 1785, General Wadsworth made 
 preparation to . erect his house. There had then 
 been no attempt in the town to construct all the 
 walls of a building of brick; indeed, there had 
 been no suitable brick for walls made here. At 
 that time brick buildings were expected to have a 
 projecting base of several courses, the top one to 
 be of brick fashioned for the purpose, the outer end 
 of which formed a regular moulding when laid on 
 edge and endwise, and the walls receded several 
 inches to the perpendicular face. Several houses 
 
298 APPENDIX. 
 
 besides General Wadsworth s were commenced 
 in this way. In the spring of 1785 the General 
 obtained brick for his house in Philadelphia, 
 including those for the base and a belt above 
 the first story. John Nichols was the master 
 mason. 
 
 Although the house was to be of only two sto 
 ries, the walls were built sixteen inches thick, 
 strong enough for a church tower. This required 
 more bricks than had been expected, and at the 
 close of the season the walls were not completed. 
 There was no alternative but to secure the ma 
 sonry from the weather, and wait for another 
 spring. When that came more bricks were im 
 ported, and "the house that Jack (Nichols) 
 built" was finished. It is yet standing, and shows 
 good work in the artistic window-caps of brick. 
 There was no other brick house built in town 
 until three years after. The Wadsworth house, 
 when originally finished, had a high pitched roof 
 of two equal sides, and four chimneys. The store 
 adjoined the house at the southeast, with an en 
 trance door from the house, and was of two sto 
 ries. Here the General sold all kinds of goods 
 needed in the town and country trade. His name 
 appears in the records, with some forty others, as 
 licensed " retailers " of the town in 1785. What 
 time he gave up the store is uncertain. The late 
 
APPENDIX. 299 
 
 Edward Howe occupied it in 1805, who described 
 it to me. 
 
 General Wadsworth was elected to the Massa 
 chusetts Senate in 1792, and the same year he 
 was elected Representative to Congress, being the 
 first from Cumberland District, and was success 
 ively elected to that office until 1806, when he 
 declined a re-election. In 1798 the citizens of 
 Portland gave him a public dinner, in approba 
 tion of his official conduct. Captain William 
 Merrill related to me the circumstance, that when 
 the seat of government was removed from Phila 
 delphia to Washington, in 1801, General Wads- 
 worth took passage in his vessel for Baltimore, 
 that being the most speedy and comfortable way 
 to reach Washington. 
 
 In 1790, General Wadsworth purchased from 
 the State of Massachusetts 7,500 acres of wild 
 land in the township which is now Hiram, on the 
 Saco River. The price paid was twelve and a 
 half cents per acre. He immediately commenced 
 to clear a farm on a large scale, as is shown by a 
 paragraph in the Eastern Herald of September 
 10, 1792, published in Portland. It says : " Gen 
 eral Wadsworth thinks he has raised more than 
 one thousand bushels of corn this season on burnt 
 land, that is now out of danger of the frost, at a 
 place called Great Ossipee, about thirty-six miles 
 
300 APPENDIX. 
 
 from this town. This is but the third year of his 
 improvements." In 1790 the township contained 
 a population of 186. 
 
 In 1795, General Wadsworth settled his son 
 Charles Lee on his tract, and in 1800 he prepared 
 to remove his own family there. In that year he 
 began to build a large house on his land purchase, 
 which is yet standing, one mile from Hiram vil 
 lage. The clay for the bricks of the chimneys 
 was brought down Saco River three miles in a 
 boat. This house was of two stories, with a railed 
 outlook on the ridge between the two chimneys. 
 There was a very large one-story kitchen adjoin 
 ing, with an immense chimney and fireplace. 
 Years after its building, the General s youngest 
 son Peleg said that at the time of the erection 
 of the house he was seven years old, and was left 
 by his father to watch the fires in the eleven fire 
 places, which were kindled to dry the new ma 
 sonry, while he rode to the post-road for his mail, 
 and that he had not felt such a weight of respon 
 sibility since. 
 
 The General took his family and household 
 goods to his new home in the first of the winter, 
 and commenced housekeeping in the new house, 
 January 1, 1807. He, with his son Charles Lee, 
 engaged in lumbering arid farming. General 
 Wadsworth was a skilful land surveyor and 
 
APPENDIX. 301 
 
 draftsman, and was much employed in the new 
 township. He was chosen Selectman in 1812, 
 and re-elected annually until 1818, and was twelve 
 years Town Treasurer. He was a magistrate, and 
 was looked upon as the patriarch of the town. 
 He was a patron of education, and his home was 
 the central point of the region for hospitality and 
 culture. He was long a communicant of the Con 
 gregational Church, and so continued until his 
 death in 1829, at the age of eighty-one. Mrs. 
 Wadsworth died in 1825. Their graves are in a 
 private enclosure on the home farm. The original 
 modest headstones have given place to a more 
 conspicuous monument of marble. The son Peleg, 
 who was thirteen years old when the family 
 moved to Hiram, spent the remainder of his life 
 in that town, and died in 1875, at the age of 
 eighty-one. It is a remarkable fact that General 
 Wadsworth and his sons Charles Lee and Peleg, 
 who all lived and died at Hiram, each reared 
 eleven children. For the facts relating to General 
 Wadsworth s life at Hiram I am indebted to his 
 great-grandson, Llewellyn A. Wadsworth, who has 
 in preparation a history of that town. 
 
 Two of the sons of General Wadsworth were 
 officers in the United States navy. Henry be 
 came a lieutenant at the age of nineteen, and was 
 attached to the schooner Scourge, in Commodore 
 
302 APPENDIX. 
 
 Treble s squadron before Tripoli, in 1804. The 
 last entry in his journal before the attack in 
 which he lost his life was this : " We are in daily 
 expectation of the Commodore s arrival from Sy 
 racuse with the gun-boats and bomb-vessels, and 
 then, Tripoli, be on thy guard." The story of his 
 sad death is told in the inscription on a marble 
 cenotaph erected by his father to his memory, in 
 the Eastern Cemetery in Portland, near the graves 
 of the captains of the Enterprise and Boxer. 
 
 It is from this gallant officer, his uncle, that the 
 poet Longellow received his baptismal name. 
 
 The General s ninth child was Alexander Scam- 
 mell Wads worth, born in Portland in 1790. 
 When the Constitution frigate fought her memo 
 rable battle, in August, 1812, in which she cap 
 tured the British frigate Guerriere, after having 
 her three masts shot away by the Americans, 
 Alexander Wadsworth was second lieutenant of 
 the victorious ship. The first lieutenant, Morris, 
 was severely wounded early in the action, when 
 Lieutenant Wadsworth of course took his place, 
 then only twenty-four. So well did he acquit 
 himself that his fellow-townsmen of Portland 
 presented him with a sword for his gallantry. 
 Lieutenant Wadsworth was an officer on board 
 the ship which conveyed our Minister, Joel Bar 
 low, to France in 1811, and was presented with 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 303 
 
 [S. W. Face.] 
 
 [S.E. Face.} 
 
 IN MEMORY OF 
 HENRY WADSWORTH, 
 
 SON OF 
 
 PELEG WADSWORTH, 
 
 LIEUT. U. S. NAVY, 
 
 WHO FELL 
 
 BEFORE THE WALLS OF TRIPOLI 
 ON THE EVE OF 4th SEPT. 
 
 1804 
 IN THE 20th YEAR OF HIS AGE 
 
 BY THE EXPLOSION OF A 
 
 FIRE SHIP 
 
 WHICH HE WITH OTHERS 
 GALLANTLY CONDUCTED 
 AGAINST THE ENEMY. , 
 
 DETERMINED 
 AT ONCE THEY PREFER DEATH 
 
 AND THE 
 
 DESTRUCTION OF THE ENEMY 
 TO CAPTIVITY 
 
 AND 
 TORTURING SLAVERY. 
 
 Com. PrebU s Letter. 
 
 [N. E. Face.] 
 
 [N. W. Face.] 
 
 MY COUNTRY CALLS 
 THIS WORLD ADIEU 
 
 I HAVE ONE LIFE 
 THAT LIFE I GIVE FOR YOU 
 
 Capt. RICHARD SOMERS. 
 
 Lieut. HENRY WADSWORTH. 
 
 Lieut. JOSEPH ISRAEL. 
 
 AND 10 BRAVE SEAMEN 
 
 VOLUNTEERS 
 
 WERE THE DEVOTED 
 
 BAND. 
 
 AN HONOR TO HIS 
 
 COUNTRY 
 
 AND AN EXAMPLE TO 
 
 ALL EXCELLENT 
 
 YOUTH. 
 
 Resolve of Congress. 
 
 MARBLE CENOTAPH IN PORTLAND CEMETERY, ERECTED TO 
 LIEUT. HENRY WADSWORTH. 
 
804 APPENDIX. 
 
 a sword by that gentleman. The Lieutenant rose 
 to the rank of Commodore, and died in Washing 
 ton in 1851, aged sixty-one. 
 
 Another of the children of General Wads worth, 
 Zilpah, performed her part in life as bravely, and 
 died as much beloved and honored, as did her gal 
 lant brothers of the navy. She was born in Dux- 
 bury, January 6, 1778, while her father was in 
 the army. When the family first occupied the 
 brick house in Portland, she was eight years old, 
 and recollected the inconveniences and discom 
 forts of the unfinished quarters in which they lived 
 while the house was building. 
 
 In 1799, June 25, Zilpah Wadsworth, in behalf 
 of the ladies of Portland, presented a military 
 standard to a volunteer company called the Fed 
 eral volunteers. It was the first uniformed com 
 pany in Maine. Joseph C. Boyd was captain, 
 and the ensign who received the standard and 
 replied to the presentation address was named 
 Wiggin. In after years Mrs. Longfellow de 
 scribed to her daughters the rehearsal of her 
 speech, and the waving of the banner on the back 
 steps of her father s house to her sister, who per 
 sonated Ensign Wiggin. The presentation was 
 from the front portico of that historic mansion. 
 The street has been filled up since then, hiding 
 the stone steps. The motto on the flag was, " De- 
 
APPENDIX. 305 
 
 fend the Laws." On one side were painted the 
 arms of the United States, and on the other the 
 same, united with the arms of Massachusetts. 
 
 In 1804, Zilpah Wadsworth became the wife 
 of Stephen Longfellow, and first kept house in 
 a two-story wooden building, yet standing on the 
 south corner of Congress and Temple Streets. 
 When her father s family left the brick house for 
 a new home in the country, in 1807, she, with a 
 family of a husband and two sons, took the old 
 homestead. Mr. Longfellow moved the store, 
 and in its place built the brick vestibule at the 
 east corner, over which he placed a modest sign 
 which was there within my knowledge ; it read, 
 "Stephen Longfellow, Counsellor at Law." He 
 occupied the eastern front room for his law office, 
 opening from the brick entry. In this office, 
 several young students read Coke and Black- 
 stone, who became prominent lawyers of Cum 
 berland County. 
 
 One day in 1814 or 1815, while Mrs. Longfellow 
 was indisposed, and the family physician was in 
 attendance, the servant overheated the kitchen 
 flue, which took fire and communicated it to the 
 attic, of which the family knew nothing until it 
 broke out through the roof. Mr. Longfellow was 
 the chief fire-ward of the department; but his 
 first thought was of his sick wife, whom he hastily 
 20 
 
306 APPENDIX. 
 
 inquired for of Dr. Weed. He told Mr. Long 
 fellow to look to the fire, and he would take care 
 of his wife. When it became evident that the 
 house must be flooded, the Doctor, who was a 
 tall, muscular man, wrapped Mrs. Longfellow in 
 a blanket and carried her in his arms into Madam 
 Treble s, the next door, now the hotel. A lady of 
 the family, who was then a child, described the 
 scene to me. Her first realization of the danger 
 was from seeing her father standing on a post of 
 the front fence, with a brass trumpet to his mouth, 
 giving loud orders to the gathering firemen, and 
 gesticulating violently. After it had nearly de 
 stroyed the roof, the fire was extinguished. 
 
 To increase the accommodations for his large 
 family, Mr. Longfellow added to the house a third 
 story, and a low four-sided or " hipped " roof 
 took the place of the high two-sided one, with 
 the chimneys the same. And thus repaired, the 
 venerable structure, around which so much of his 
 torical interest clusters, has remained to the pres 
 ent time. Although overshadowed and crowded 
 upon by its more pretentious neighbors, it is more 
 inquired for now by strangers than any other 
 house in the city. May the polite and refined 
 descendant of its builder, who is now its mistress, 
 long continue to preside there and dispense its 
 traditional hospitalities ! 
 
APPENDIX. 307 
 
 No. II. 
 GENEALOGIES. 
 
 GENEALOGY OF GENERAL PELEG WADSWORTH. 
 
 I. 
 
 THE ancestor of the name in the Old Colony was 
 
 CHRISTOPHER WADSWORTH, or, as it was early abridged, 
 Xtofer Waddesworth, from Yorkshire, Eng., where 
 there is a town of the same name. He was one of 
 the earliest settlers of Duxbury, Mass. 
 
 In 1633, he was chosen 1st Constable of the town, then 
 an office of trust and responsibility. 
 
 1640. He was chosen Deputy, or Representative. 
 
 1666. Selectman, several times re-elected. 
 1680. He died probably. 
 
 1677. July 31, his will is dated. Est. 70 3 4. His 
 wife was Grace. 
 
 II. 
 
 1638. His 2d son John 2 [3-2] was born. 
 
 1667. John 2 m. Abigail Andrews, daughter of Joseph. 
 
 July 25. She was b. 1647, and d. 1723; he 
 d. 1700, May 15th; was a Deacon of the 
 Church in Duxbury. 
 
308 APPENDIX. 
 
 III. 
 
 His son John 3 [14-3] b. 1671, Mar. 12. 
 
 1704. M. Mercy Wiswell, June 25. 
 
 1718. M. 2d wife, Widow Mary Yerdie of Boston ; had 
 
 six children, all by first wife except Mary, the 
 
 youngest, b. 1721. 
 1750. He died, May 3, aged 78 years. 
 
 IV. 
 
 1715. His son Peleg [41-5] was born, Aug. 29. 
 1 740. M. Susanna Sampson ; was a Deacon. 
 
 V. 
 
 1748. His son General Peleg [82-5] was b. May 6, 
 at Duxbury ; taught school at Plymouth. 
 
 1 765. He entered Harvard College. 
 
 1769. Graduated Harvard College. 
 
 1772. June 18th, m. Elizabeth Bartlett, who was born 
 Aug. 9, 1753, at Plymouth, and d. 1825, July 
 20th, at Hiram, Me. She was daughter of 
 Samuel Bartlett, Esq., by his second wife, 
 Elizabeth Lothrop Witherell, and great-great- 
 granddaughter of the 1st Eobert Bartlett, who 
 was b. in Eng. in 1603. Peleg [82-5] had 
 1 1 children, 8 sons and 3 daughters, arid d. at 
 Hiram, Me., 1829, Sept. 29, set. 81 years. 
 
 1775. He joined the Continental army at Roxbury. 
 Captain of a company of minute-men. 
 
APPENDIX. 309 
 
 1776. Commissioned by Congress as Captain, and em 
 ployed by Gen. Thomas as Engineer in laying 
 out the lines of defence in Roxbury and Dor 
 chester, and \vas Aid to Maj.-Gen. Ward when 
 the Heights were occupied. 
 
 1778. Appointed Adj.-Gen. Mass. Militia. 
 
 1779. Was second in command under Gen. Lovell on 
 
 Penobscot expedition. 
 
 1781. Was attacked, shot, and captured at So. Thomas- 
 ton in Febmaty, carried to Castine, and im 
 prisoned by the British in Fort George, whence 
 he made his remarkable escape in June. (See 
 D wight, Journal, etc.) 
 
 1784. Established himself in Portland, Me., and built 
 the first brick house erected there, 1784-85. 
 
 1792. Chosen Senator to Massachusetts Legislature. 
 
 1792. Chosen first Representative to the IT. S. Congress 
 at Philadelphia, and served 14 years. 
 
 1 798. Received a public dinner from citizens. 
 
 1806. Declined a re-election to Congress, and retired 
 
 to private life. 
 
 1807. Moved to Hiram, Oxford Co., Maine, and im 
 
 proved one third of the township, which was 
 granted to him for his military services by 
 the Legislature. It was called on the map 
 Hiram, or Wadsworth Grant. 
 1829. Died at Hiram, Me. 
 
310 APPENDIX. 
 
 DESCENT OF LONGFELLOW FROM JOHN ALDEN. 
 
 His mother, Zilpah Wadsworth, was daughter of Gen 
 eral Peleg Wadsworth, who was son of Deacon Peleg 
 
 W. of Duxbury, born 1715, died , and of Susanna 
 
 Sampson, born 1720, married 1740. Susanna was 
 daughter of John Sampson, who was born 1688, and 
 was married, 1718, to Priscilla Bartlett, born 1697, died 
 1758. John Sampson was son of Stephen S., born 
 about 1650, and of Priscilla Paybodie, born 1653. 
 Priscilla was daughter of William Pabodie, who was 
 born 1620, married 1644, and died 1707, and of Eliza 
 beth Alden, born 1625, died 1717. Elizabeth was 
 daughter of John Alden and Priscilla Mullen, who came 
 in the Mayflower. 
 
 ANOTHER LINE OF DESCENT. 
 
 RUTH PABODIE, daughter of William Pabodie and Eliz 
 abeth Alden, was married in 1672 to Benjamin Bart 
 lett; and their daughter Priscilla, having married John 
 Sampson in 1718, was the mother of Susanna Sampson, 
 the mother of General Peleg Wadsworth. 
 
APPENDIX. 311 
 
 No. III. 
 
 [From the New York Tribune, April 2, 1882.] 
 
 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 BY WILLIAM WINTER. 
 
 ALONE, at night, he heard them sigh, 
 
 These wild March winds that beat his toinb ; 
 
 Alone, at night, from those that die 
 He sought one ray to light his gloom. 
 
 And still he heard the night-winds moan, 
 And still the mystery closed him round, 
 
 And still the darkness, cold and lone, 
 Sent forth no ray, returned no sound. 
 
 But Time at last the answer brings, 
 
 And he, past all our suns and snows, 
 At rest with peasants and with kings, 
 
 Like them the wondrous secret knows. 
 
 Alone, at night, we hear them sigh, 
 
 These wild March winds that stir his pall ; 
 
 And, helpless, wandering, lost, we cry 
 To his dim ghost to tell us all. 
 
 He loved us, while he lingered here ; 
 
 We loved him, never love more true ! 
 He will not leave, in doubt and fear, 
 
 The human grief that once he knew. 
 
312 APPENDIX. 
 
 For never yet was born the day, 
 
 When, faint of heart and weak of limb, 
 
 One suffering creature turned away, 
 
 Unhelped, unsoothed, uncheered by him ! 
 
 But still through darkness dense and bleak 
 The winds of March moan wildly round. 
 
 And still we feel that all we seek 
 Ends in that sigh of vacant sound. 
 
 He cannot tell us none can tell 
 What waits behind the mystic veil ! 
 
 Yet he who lived and died so well, 
 In that, perchance, has told the tale. 
 
 Not to the wastes of Nature drift 
 Else were this world an evil dream 
 
 The crown and soul of Nature s gift, 
 By Avon or by Charles s stream. 
 
 His heart was pure, his purpose high, 
 His thought serene, his patience vast ; 
 
 He put all strifes of passion by, 
 
 And lived to God, from first to last. 
 
 His song was like the pine-tree s sigh 
 At midnight o er a poet s grave, 
 
 Or like the sea-bird s distant cry, 
 Borne far across the twilight wave. 
 
 There is no flower of meek delight, 
 There is no star of heavenly pride, 
 
 That shines not sweeter and more bright 
 Because he lived, loved, sang, and died. 
 
APPENDIX. 313 
 
 Wild winds of March, his requiem sing ! 
 
 Weep o er him, April s sorrowing skies ! 
 Till come, the tender flowers of Spring 
 
 To deck the pillow where he lies ; 
 
 Till violets pour their purple flood, 
 That wandering myrtle shall not lack, 
 
 And, royal with the summer s blood, 
 The roses that he loved come back ; 
 
 Till all that Nature gives of light, 
 
 To rift the gloom and point the way, 
 Shall sweetly pierce our mortal night, 
 
 And symbol his immortal day ! 
 
314 APPENDIX. 
 
 No. IV. 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE WITH CHARLES LANMAN. 1 
 
 [From the New York Tribune, April 13, 1882.] 
 
 THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS ; NORMAN S WOE ; LONG 
 FELLOW, SUMNER, AND WllITTIER, WITH MAJOR BEN 
 
 PERLEY POORE, AT INDIAN HILL. 
 
 IN 1871, while exhibiting a portfolio of my 
 sketches in oil for a nephew of Mr. Longfellow, 
 we stumbled upon a view of Norman s Woe, near 
 Cape Ann, when he remarked, " My uncle should 
 see that picture, for I know it would greatly in 
 terest him." On the next day, accordingly, I 
 packed up the picture, and, with another, a 
 view on the coast of Nova Scotia, the home of 
 Evangeline, sent it off by express to Mr. Long- 
 
 1 Mr. Lanman is at once an artist and an author, and is 
 widely known from his works. The genial Irving called 
 him " the picturesque explorer of America." He was for 
 merly the private secretary of Daniel Webster, afterwards a 
 librarian in Washington, and has now for the past ten years 
 been the American Secretary of the Japanese Legation. He 
 announces for publication a volume entitled "Haphazard 
 Personalities." 
 
APPENDIX. 315 
 
 fellow, accompanied by a note of explanation, in 
 which I recalled the fact of our meeting many 
 years before at the house of Park Benjamin, in 
 New York, who was the first to publish the poem 
 about the Hesperus, and who paid for it the pit 
 tance of twenty-five xlollars. The letter which 
 Mr. Longfellow sent me in return, worth more 
 than a thousand sketches, was as follows : 
 
 CAMBRIDGE, November 24. 1871. 
 
 MY DEAR SIR, Last night I had the pleasure of 
 receiving your friendly letter and the beautiful pictures 
 that came with it ; and I thank you cordially for the 
 welcome gift and the kind remembrance that prompted 
 it. They are both very interesting to me ; particularly 
 the reef of Norman s Woe. What you say of the ballad 
 is also very gratifying, and induces me to send you in 
 return a bit of autobiography. 
 
 Looking over a journal for 1839, a few days ago, I 
 found the following entries : 
 
 " December 17. News of shipwrecks, horrible, on 
 the coast. Forty bodies washed ashore near Gloucester. 
 One woman lashed to a piece of wreck. There is a 
 reef called Norman s Woe, where many of these took 
 place. Among others the schooner Hesperus. Also, 
 the Seaflower, on Black Rock. I wJll write a ballad on 
 this. 
 
 "December 30. Wrote last evening a notice of All- 
 ston s Poems, after which sat till one o clock by the fire, 
 smoking ; when suddenly it came into my mind to write 
 
816 APPENDIX. 
 
 the ballad of the schooner Hesperus, which I accord 
 ingly did. Then went to bed, but could not sleep. 
 New thoughts were running in my mind, and I got up 
 to add them to the ballad. It was three by the clock." 
 
 All this is of no importance but to myself. However, 
 I like sometimes to recall the circumstances under which 
 a poem was written ; and as you express a liking for this 
 one, it may perhaps interest you to know why and when 
 and how it came into existence. I had quite forgotten 
 about its first publication ; but I find a letter from Park 
 Benjamin, dated January 7, 1840, beginning (you will 
 recognize his style) as follows : 
 
 " Your ballad, The Wreck of the Hesperus/ is grand. 
 Enclosed are twenty-five dollars (the sum you mentioned) 
 for it, paid by the proprietors of The New World/ in 
 which glorious paper it will resplendently coruscate on 
 Saturday next." 
 
 Pardon this gossip, and believe me, with renewed 
 
 thanks, yours faithfully, 
 
 HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. 
 
 During the summer of 1873, while spending a 
 few weeks at Indian Hill, in Massachusetts, the 
 delightful residence of Ben Perley Poore, it was 
 again my privilege to meet Mr. Longfellow. He 
 had come down from Naliant with his friend, 
 Charles Sumner, for the purpose of visiting, for 
 the first time, the Longfellow homestead in New- 
 bury. After that visit he came by invitation, 
 with the Senator, to Indian Hill, where they en- 
 
APPENDIX. 317 
 
 joyed an early dinner and a bit of old wine, after 
 which Mr. Poore took us all in his carriage on a 
 visit to the poet John G. Whittier, at Amesbury. 
 The day was charming, the route we followed was 
 down the Merrimack, and very lovely, and the 
 conversation of the lions was of course delightful. 
 We found Mr. Whittier at home, and it was not 
 only a great treat to see him there, but a noted 
 event to meet socially and under one roof three 
 such men as Whittier, Simmer, and Longfellow. 
 The deportment of the two poets was, to me, 
 most captivating. The host, in his simple dress, 
 was as shy as a schoolboy, while Mr. Longfellow, 
 with his white and flowing hair, and jolly laugh 
 ter, reminded me of one of his own Vikings ; and 
 when Mr. Whittier brought out and exhibited to 
 us an antislavery document which he had signed 
 forty years before, I could not help recalling some 
 of the splendid things which that trio of great 
 men had written on the subject of slavery. The 
 drive to Newburyport, whence Mr. Sumner and 
 Mr. Longfellow were to return to Nahant, was 
 not less delightful than had been the preceding 
 one ; and the kindly words which were spoken of 
 Mr. Whittier proved that he was highly honored 
 and loved by his noted friends, as he is by the 
 world at large. Before parting from Mr. Longfel 
 low he took me one side and spoke with great in- 
 
318 APPENDIX. 
 
 terest of the old homestead he had that morning 
 visited, and expressed a wish that I should make 
 a sketch of it for him, as it was then two hundred 
 years old, arid rapidly going to decay. On the 
 following morning I went to the spot and com 
 plied with his request ; a few weeks afterward I 
 sent him a finished picture of the house, not for 
 getting the well-sweep and the old stone horse 
 block, in which he felt a special interest ; and he 
 acknowledged the receipt of the picture in these 
 words : 
 
 CAMBRIDGE, October 18, 1873. 
 
 MY DEAR SIR, I have had the pleasure of receiving 
 your very friendly note, and the picture of the old home 
 stead at Newbury, for both of which I pray you to ac 
 cept my most cordial thanks. Be assured that I value 
 your gift highly, and appreciate the kindness which 
 prompted it, and the trouble you took in making the 
 portraits of the old house and tree. They are very exact, 
 and will always remind me of that pleasant summer clay 
 and Mr. Poore s chateau and his charming family, and 
 yours. If things could ever be done twice over in this 
 world, which they cannot, I should like to live that day 
 over again. 
 
 With kind regards to Mrs. Lamnan, not forgetting a 
 word and a kiss to your little Japanese ward (Ume 
 Tsuda), I am, my dear sir, yours truly, 
 
 HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. 
 
APPENDIX. 319 
 
 No. V. 
 
 [From "The Independent," April 6, 1882.] 
 
 MR. LONGFELLOW S EARLY POEMS. 
 
 HITHERTO OMITTED FROM ALL AMERICAN COLLECTIONS. 
 
 OF Mr. Longfellow s juvenile poems, published 
 mostly in a forgotten magazine, he recovered only, 
 seven, which he allowed to remain in his collec 
 tions under the title of " Earlier Poems." They 
 have, however, been collected in England by 
 Richard Herne Shepherd, and published by Pick 
 ering & Co. From that volume we reprint them, 
 omitting those which are made familiar by Long 
 fellow s own preservation of them. Mr. Shep 
 herd says in his Preface : 
 
 " Seventeen out of the twenty-one poems that com 
 pose this little volume appeared during the years 1824- 
 26 in a brief-lived fortnightly Transatlantic magazine, 
 entitled The United States Literary Gazette. The 
 author had not completed his eighteenth year when the 
 first of them appeared, and had only just passed his 
 nineteenth when the last was published. An exact ac 
 count of the dates of their appearance will not be with 
 out interest. 
 
320 APPENDIX. 
 
 11 POEMS BY H. W. LONGFELLOW IN THE UNITED STATES 
 LITERARY GAZETTE. 
 
 I. 
 
 THANKSGIVING. When first in ancient time from Jubal s 
 tongue. Nov. 15, 1824. 
 
 II. 
 
 AUTUMNAL NIGHTFALL. Bound Autumn s mouldering 
 urn. Dec. 1, 1824. 
 
 III. 
 
 ITALIAN SCENERY. Night rests in beauty on Mont Alto. 
 Dec. 15, 1824. 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE LUNATIC GIRL. Most beautiful, most gentle! Jan. 
 1, 1825. 
 
 Y. 
 
 THE VENETIAN GONDOLIER. * Here rest the weary oar ! ; 
 Jan. 15, 1825. 
 
 VI. 
 
 WOODS IN WINTER. When winter winds are piercing 
 chill/ (Partly reprinted in the Earlier Poems.) Feb. 1, 
 1825. 
 
 VII. 
 
 DIRGE OVER A NAMELESS GRAVE. By yon still river, 
 where the wave. March 14, 1825. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 321 
 
 VIII. 
 
 A SONG OF SAVOY. As the dim twilight shrouds. March 
 15, 1825. 
 
 IX. 
 AN APRIL DAY (reprinted). April 15, 1825. 
 
 X. 
 
 THE INDIAN HUNTER. When the summer harvest was 
 gathered in. May 15, 1825. 
 
 XL 
 HYMN OF THE MORAVIAN NUNS (reprinted). June 1, 1825. 
 
 XII. 
 
 SUNRISE ON THE HILLS (reprinted). July 1, 1825. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 JECKOYVA. They made the warrior s grave beside. Aug. 
 1, 1825. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 THE SEA DIVER. My way is on the bright blue sea. Aug. 
 15, 1825. 
 
 XV. 
 AUTUMN. With what a glory (reprinted). Oct. 1, 1825. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 MUSINGS. I sat by my window one night. Nov. 15, 1825. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 SONG. Where from the eye of day. April 1, 1826. 
 21 
 
322 APPENDIX. 
 
 "And here the contributions dropped, nor did the 
 magazine itself (which contained also contributions from 
 other men who have since risen to celebrity) long 
 survive. 
 
 " The curious part of the affair is that Longfellow, 
 when issuing his first collected volume of poems, thir 
 teen years later ( Voices of the Night, Boston, 1839), 
 thought it worth while to include five (by no means the 
 best) of these early pieces, but did not care to rescue the 
 other twelve (not only the larger, but by far the better 
 portion of these juvenilia) from their oubliette. 
 
 " Most of Mr. Longfellow s poetry, writes George 
 Cheever, in 1831, indeed, we believe nearly all that 
 has been published, appeared, during his college life, in 
 the United States Literary Gazette. It displays a 
 very refined taste and a very pure vein of poetical feel 
 ing. It possesses what has been a rare quality in the 
 American poets, simplicity of expression, without any 
 attempt to startle the reader, or to produce an effect by 
 far-sought epithets. There is much sweetness in his im 
 agery and language ; and sometimes lie is hardly excelled 
 by any one for the quiet accuracy exhibited in his pic 
 tures of natural objects. His poetry will not easily be 
 forgotten. l 
 
 " To such praise we need add little ; nor is it our in 
 tention to enter into detailed criticism of these slight 
 first-fruits of Longfellow s muse. If the savor of them 
 
 1 "The American Commonplace Book of Poetry, with 
 Occasional Notes." By George B. Cheever. Boston, 1831. 
 
APPENDIX. 323 
 
 is sweet, the reader will not be ungrateful to us for cull 
 ing them from the tangled wilderness where they lay un 
 heeded and in danger of perishing." 
 
 THANKSGIVING. 
 
 WHEN first in ancient time from Jtibal s tongue 
 
 The tuneful anthem filled the morning air, 
 
 To sacred hymnings and elysian song 
 
 His music-breathing shell the minstrel woke. 
 
 Devotion breathed aloud from every chord : 
 
 The voice of praise was heard in every tone, 
 
 And prayer, and thanks to Him the Eternal One, 
 
 To Him, that with bright inspiration touched 
 
 The high and gifted lyre of heavenly song, 
 
 And warmed the soul with new vitality. 
 
 A stirring energy through Nature breathed : 
 
 The voice of adoration from her broke, 
 
 Swelling aloud in every breeze, and heard 
 
 Long in the sullen waterfall, what time 
 
 Soft Spring or hoary Autumn threw on earth 
 
 Its bloom or blighting, when the Summer smiled, 
 
 Or Winter o er the year s sepulchre mourned. 
 
 The Deity was there ! a nameless spirit 
 
 Moved in the breasts of men to do Him homage ; 
 
 And when the morning smiled, or evening pale 
 
 Hung weeping o er the melancholy urn, 
 
 They came beneath the broad o erarching trees, 
 
 And in their tremulous shadow worshipped oft, 
 
 Where pale the vine clung round their simple altars, 
 
 And gray moss mantling hung. Above was heard 
 
 The melody of winds, breathed out as the green trees 
 
 Bowed to their quivering touch in living beauty, 
 
324 APPENDIX. 
 
 And birds sang forth their cheerful hymns. Below 
 The bright and widely wandering rivulet 
 Struggled and gushed amongst the tangled roots 
 That choked its reedy fountain, and dark rocks 
 Worn smooth by the constant current. Even there 
 The listless wave, that stole with mellow voice 
 Where reeds grew rank on the rushy-fringed brink, 
 And the green sedge bent to the wandering wind, 
 Sang with a cheerful song of sweet tranquillity. 
 Men felt the heavenly influence, and it stole 
 Like balm into their hearts, till all was peace ; 
 And even the air they breathed, the light they saw, 
 Became religion ; for the ethereal spirit 
 That to soft music wakes the chords of feeling, 
 And mellows everything to beauty, moved 
 With cheering energy within their breasts, 
 And made all holy there, for all was love. 
 The morning stars, that sweetly sang together, 
 The moon, that hung at night in the mid-sky, 
 Dayspring, and eventide, and all the fair 
 And beautiful forms of nature, had a voice 
 Of eloquent worship. Ocean with its tides 
 Swelling and deep, where low the infant storm 
 Hung on his dun, dark cloud, and heavily beat 
 The pulses of the sea, sent forth a voice 
 Of awful adoration to the spirit 
 That, wrapt in darkness, moved upon its face. 
 And when the bow of evening arched the east, 
 Or, in the moonlight pale, the curling wave 
 Kissed with a sweet embrace the sea- worn beach, 
 And soft the song of winds came o er the waters, 
 The mingled melody of wind and wave 
 Touched like a heavenly anthem on the ear ; 
 
APPENDIX. 325 
 
 For it arose a tuneful hymn of worship. 
 And have our hearts grown cold ? Are there on earth 
 No pure reflections caught from heavenly light ? 
 Have our mute lips no hymn, our souls no song ? 
 Let him that in the summer day of youth 
 Keeps pure the holy fount of youthful feeling, 
 And him that in the nightfall of his years 
 Lies down in his last sleep, and shuts in peace 
 His dim pale eyes on life s short wayfaring, 
 Praise him that rules the destiny of man. 
 Sunday Evening, October, 1824. 
 
 AUTUMNAL NIGHTFALL. 
 
 ROUXD Autumn s mouldering urn. 
 Loud mourns the chill and cheerless gale, 
 When nightfall shades the quiet vale, 
 
 And stars in beauty burn. 
 
 T is the year s eventide. 
 The wind, like one that sighs in pain 
 O er joys that ne er will bloom again, 
 
 Mourns on the far hillside. 
 
 And yet my pensive eye 
 Rests on the faint blue mountain long, 
 And for the fairy-land of song, 
 
 That lies beyond, I sigh. 
 
 The moon unveils her brow ; 
 In the mid-sky her urn glows bright, 
 And in her sad and mellowing light 
 
 The valley sleeps below. 
 
326 APPENDIX. 
 
 Upon the hazel gray 
 The lyre of Autumn hangs unstrung, 
 And o er its tremulous chords are flung 
 
 The fringes of decay. 
 
 I stand deep musing here, 
 Beneath the dark and motionless beech, 
 Whilst wandering winds of nightfall reach 
 
 My melancholy ear. 
 
 The air breathes chill and free ; 
 A Spirit in soft music calls 
 From Autumn s gray and moss-grown halls, 
 
 And round her withered tree. 
 
 The hoar and mantled oak, 
 With moss and twisted ivy brown, 
 Bends in its lifeless beauty down 
 
 Where weeds the fountain choke. 
 
 That fountain s hollow voice 
 Echoes the sound of precious things ; 
 Of early feeling s tuneful springs 
 
 Choked with our blighted joys. 
 
 Leaves, that the night-wind bears 
 To earth s cold bosom with a sigh, 
 x Are types of our mortality, 
 
 And of our fading years. 
 
 The tree that shades the plain, 
 Wasting and hoar as time decays, 
 Spring shall renew with cheerful days, 
 
 But not my joys again. 
 
APPENDIX. 327 
 
 ITALIAN SCENERY. 
 
 NIGHT rests in beauty on Mont Alto. 
 
 Beneath its shade the beauteous Arno sleeps 
 
 In Vallombrosa s bosom, and dark trees 
 
 Bend with a calm and quiet shadow down 
 
 Upon the beauty of that silent river. 
 
 Still in the west a melancholy smile 
 
 Mantles the lips of day, and twilight pale 
 
 Moves like a spectre in the dusky sky ; 
 
 While eve s sweet star on the fast fading year 
 
 Smiles calmly. Music steals at intervals 
 
 Across the water, with a tremulous swell, 
 
 From out the upland dingle of tall firs, 
 
 And a faint footfall sounds where dim and dark 
 
 Hangs the gray willow from the river s brink, 
 
 O ershadowing its current. Slowly there 
 
 The lover s gondola drops down the stream, 
 
 Silent, save when its dipping oar is heard, 
 
 Or in its eddy sighs the rippling wave. 
 
 Mouldering and moss-grown, through the lapse of years, 
 
 In motionless beauty stands the giant oak, 
 
 Whilst those that saw its green and nourishing youth 
 
 Are gone and are forgotten. Soft the fount, 
 
 Whose secret springs the star-light pale discloses, 
 
 Gushes in hollow music, and beyond 
 
 The broader river sweeps its silent way, 
 
 Mingling a silver current with that sea, 
 
 Whose waters have no tides, coming nor going. 
 
 On noiseless wing along that fair blue sea 
 
 The halcyon flits, and where the wearied storm 
 
 Left a loud moaning, all is peace again. 
 
328 APPENDIX. 
 
 A calm is on the deep ! The winds that came 
 O er the dark sea-surge with a tremulous breathing, 
 And mourned on the dark cliff where weeds grew rank 
 And to the autumnal death-dirge the deep sea 
 Heaved its long billows, with a cheerless song 
 Have passed away to the cold earth again, 
 Like a wayfaring mourner. Silently 
 Up from the calm sea s dim and distant verge, 
 Full and unveiled the moon s broad disk emerges. 
 On Tivoli, and where the fairy hues 
 Of autumn glow upon Abruzzi s woods, 
 The silver light is spreading. Far above, 
 Encompassed with their thin, cold atmosphere, 
 The Apennines uplift their snowy brows, 
 Glowing with colder beauty, where unheard 
 The eagle screams in the fathomless ether, 
 And stays his wearied wing. Here let us pause ! 
 The spirit of these solitudes the soul 
 That dwells within these steep and difficult places 
 Speaks a mysterious language to mine own, 
 And brings unutterable musings. Earth 
 Sleeps in the shades of nightfall, and the sea 
 Spreads like a thin blue haze beneath my feet, 
 Whilst the gray columns and the mouldering tombs 
 Of the Imperial City, hidden deep 
 Beneath the mantle of their shadows, rest. 
 My spirit looks on earth ! A heavenly voice 
 Comes silently : " Dreamer, is earth thy dwelling ? 
 Lo ! nursed within that fair and fruitful bosom 
 Which has sustained thy being, and within 
 The colder breast of Ocean, lie the germs 
 Of thine own dissolution ! E en the air, 
 That fans the clear blue sky, and gives thee strength, 
 
APPENDIX. 329 
 
 Up from the sullen lake of mouldering reeds, 
 
 And the wide waste of forest, where the osier 
 
 Thrives in the damp and motionless atmosphere, 
 
 Shall bring the dire and wasting pestilence 
 
 And blight thy cheek. Dream thou of higher things ; 
 
 This world is not thy home ! " And yet my eye 
 
 Rests upon earth again ! How beautiful, 
 
 Where wild Velino heaves its sullen waves 
 
 Down the high cliff of gray and shapeless granite, 
 
 Hung on the curling mist, the moonlight bow 
 
 Arches the perilous river ! A soft light 
 
 Silvers the Albanian mountains, and the haze 
 
 That rests upon their summits mellows down 
 
 The austerer features of their beauty. Faint 
 
 And dim-discovered glow the Sabine hills, 
 
 And, listening to the sea s monotonous shell, 
 
 High on the cliffs of Terracina stands 
 
 The castle of the royal Goth 1 in ruins. 
 
 But night is in her wane : day s early flush 
 Glows like a hectic on her fading cheek, 
 Wasting its beauty. And the opening dawn 
 With cheerful lustre lights the royal city, 
 Where with its proud tiara of dark towers 
 It sleeps upon its own romantic bay. 
 
 THE LUNATIC GIRL. 
 
 MOST beautiful, most gentle ! Yet how lost 
 To all that gladdens the fair earth ; the eye 
 That watched her being ; the maternal care 
 
 1 Theodoric. 
 
330 APPENDIX. 
 
 That kept and nourished her ; and the calm light 
 
 That steals from our own thoughts, and softly rests 
 
 On youth s green valleys and smooth -sliding waters ! 
 
 Alas ! few suns of life, and fewer winds, 
 
 Had withered or had wasted the fresh rose 
 
 That bloomed upon her cheek ; but one chill frost 
 
 Came in that early Autumn, when ripe thought 
 
 Is rich and beautiful, and blighted it ; 
 
 And the fair stalk grew languid day by day, 
 
 And- drooped, and drooped, and shed its many leaves. 
 
 T is said that some have died of love, and some, 
 
 That once from beauty s high romance had caught 
 
 Love s passionate feelings and heart- wasting cares, 
 
 Have spurned life s threshold with a desperate foot : 
 
 And others have gone mad, and she was one ! 
 
 Her lover died at sea ; and they had felt 
 
 A coldness for each other when they parted ; 
 
 But love returned again, and to her ear 
 
 Came tidings that the ship which bore her lover . 
 
 Had suddenly gone down at sea, and all were lost. 
 
 I saw her in her native vale, when high 
 
 The aspiring lark up from the reedy river 
 
 Mounted on cheerful pinion ; and she sat 
 
 Casting smooth pebbles into a clear fountain, 
 
 And marking how they sunk ; and oft she sighed 
 
 For him that perished thus in the vast deep. 
 
 She had a sea-shell, that her lover brought 
 
 From the far-distant ocean, and she pressed 
 
 Its smooth cold lips unto her ear, and thought 
 
 It whispered tidings of the dark blue sea ; 
 
 And sad she cried, " The tides are out ! and now 
 
 I see his corse upon the stormy beach ! " 
 
 Around her neck a string of rose-lipped shells, 
 
APPENDIX. 331 
 
 And coral, and white pearl, was loosely hung, 
 
 And close beside her lay a delicate fan, 
 
 Made of the halcyon s blue wing ; and when 
 
 She looked upon it, it would calm her thoughts 
 
 As that bird calms the ocean, for it gave 
 
 Mournful, yet pleasant memory. Once I marked, 
 
 When through the mountain hollows and green woods 
 
 That bent beneath its footsteps the loud wind 
 
 Came with a voice as of the restless deep, 
 
 She raised her head, and on her pale cold cheek 
 
 A beauty of diviner seeming came : 
 
 And then she spread her hands, and smiled, as if 
 
 She welcomed a long-absent friend, and then 
 
 Shrunk timorously back again, and wept. 
 
 I turned away : a multitude of thoughts, 
 
 Mournful and dark, were crowding on my mind, 
 
 And as I left that lost and ruined one, 
 
 A living monument that still on earth 
 
 There is warm love and deep sincerity, 
 
 She gazed upon the west, where the blue sky 
 
 Held, like an ocean, in its wide embrace 
 
 Those fairy islands of bright cloud, that lay 
 
 So calm and quietly in the thin ether. 
 
 And then she pointed where, alone and high, 
 
 One little cloud sailed onward, like a lost 
 
 And wandering bark, and fainter grew, and fainter, 
 
 And soon was swallowed up in the blue depths. 
 
 And when it sunk away, she turned again 
 
 With sad despondency and tears to earth. 
 
 Three long and weary months, yet not a whisper 
 Of stern reproach for that cold parting ! Then 
 She sat no longer by her favorite fountain ! 
 She was at rest forever. 
 
332 APPENDIX. 
 
 THE VENETIAN GONDOLIER. 
 
 HERE rest the weary oar ! soft airs 
 Breathe out in the o erarching sky ; 
 
 And Night sweet Night serenely wears 
 A smile of peace ; her noon is nigh. 
 
 Where the tall fir in quiet stands, 
 
 And waves, embracing the chaste shores, 
 
 Move o er sea-shells and bright sands, 
 Is heard the sound of dipping oars. 
 
 Swift o er the wave the light bark springs, 
 Love s midnight hour draws lingering near : 
 
 And list ! his tuneful viol strings 
 The young Venetian Gondolier. 
 
 Lo ! on the silver-mirrored deep, 
 On earth and her embosomed lakes, 
 
 And where the silent rivers sweep, 
 
 From the thin cloud fair moonlight breaks. 
 
 Soft music breathes around, and dies 
 
 On the calm bosom of the sea ; 
 Whilst in her cell the novice sighs 
 
 Her vespers to her rosary. 
 
 At their dim altars bow fair forms, 
 
 In tender charity for those 
 That, helpless left to life s rude storms, 
 
 Have never found this calm repose. 
 
 The bell swings to its midnight chime, 
 Relieved against the deep blue sky ! 
 
 Haste ! dip the oar again ! t is time 
 To seek Genevra s balcony. 
 
APPENDIX. 333 
 
 DIRGE OVER A NAMELESS GRAVE. 
 
 BY yon still river, where the wave 
 Is winding slow at evening s close, 
 
 The beech, upon a. nameless grave, 
 Its sadly-moving shadow throws. 
 
 O er the fair woods the. sun looks down 
 Upon the many twinkling leaves, 
 
 And twilight s mellow shades are brown, 
 Where darkly the green turf upheaves. 
 
 The river glides in silence there, 
 And hardly waves the sapling tree : 
 
 Sweet flowers are springing, and the air 
 Is full of balm, but where is she ! 
 
 They bade her wed a son of pride, 
 
 And leave the hopes she cherished long ; 
 
 She loved but one, and would not hide 
 A love which knew no wrong. 
 
 And months went sadly on, and years ; 
 
 And she was wasting day by day : 
 At length she died ; and many tears 
 
 Were shed, that she should pass away. 
 
 Then came a gray old man, and knelt 
 With bitter weeping by her tomb ; 
 
 And others mourned for him, who felt 
 That he had sealed a daughter s doom. 
 
 The funeral train has long past on, 
 And time wiped dry the father s tear ! 
 
 Farewell, lost maiden ! there is one 
 
 That mourns thee yet, and he is here. 
 
334 APPENDIX. 
 
 A SONG OF SAVOY. 
 
 As the dim twilight shrouds 
 
 The mountain s purple crest, 
 And Summer s white and folded clouds 
 
 Are glowing in the west, 
 Loud shouts come up the rocky dell, 
 And voices hail the" evening bell. 
 
 Faint is the goatherd s song, 
 And sighing comes the breeze : 
 
 The silent river sweeps along 
 Amid its bending trees, 
 
 And the full moon shines faintly there, 
 
 And music fills the evening air. 
 
 Beneath the waving firs 
 
 The tinkling cymbals sound ; 
 
 And as the wind the foliage stirs, 
 I feel the dancers bound 
 
 Where the green branches, arched above, 
 
 Bend over this fair scene of love. 
 
 And he is there, that sought 
 
 My young heart long ago ! 
 But he has left me, though I thought 
 
 He ne er could leave me so. 
 Ah ! lovers vows, how frail are they ! 
 And his were made but yesterday. 
 
 "Why comes he not ? I call 
 
 In tears upon him yet ; 
 T were better ne er to love at all, 
 
 Than love, and then forget ! 
 
APPENDIX. 335 
 
 Why comes he not ? Alas ! I should 
 Reclaim him still, if weeping could. 
 
 But see, he leaves the glade, 
 
 And beckons me* away : 
 He comes to seek his mountain maid ; 
 
 I cannot chide his stay. 
 Glad sounds along the valley swell, 
 And voices hail the evening bell. 
 
 THE INDIAN HUNTER. 
 
 WHEN the summer harvest was gathered in, 
 And the sheaf of the gleaner grew white and thin, 
 And the ploughshare was in its furrow left, 
 Where the stubble land had been lately cleft, 
 An Indian hunter, with unstrung bow, 
 Looked down where the valley lay stretched below. 
 
 He was a stranger there, and all that day 
 Had been out on the hills, a perilous way, 
 But the foot of the deer was far and fleet, 
 And the wolf kept aloof from the hunter s feet. 
 And bitter feelings passed o er him then, 
 As he stood by the populous haunts of men. 
 
 The winds of Autumn came over the woods 
 As the sun stole out from their solitudes ; 
 The moss was white on the maple s trunk, 
 And dead from its arms the pale vine shrunk, 
 And ripened the mellow fruit hung, and red 
 Were the tree s withered leaves round it shed. 
 
336 APPENDIX. 
 
 The foot of the reaper moved slow on the lawn, 
 And the sickle cut down the yellow corn ; 
 The mower sung loud by the meadow-side, 
 Where the mists of evening were spreading wide, 
 And the voice of the herdsman came up the lea, 
 And the dance went round by the greenwood tree. 
 
 Then the hunter turned away from that scene, 
 Where the home of his fathers once had been, 
 And heard by the distant and measured stroke 
 That the woodman hewed down the giant oak, 
 And burning thoughts flashed over his mind 
 Of the white man s faith and love unkind. 
 
 The moon of the harvest grew high and bright, 
 As her golden horn pierced the cloud of white ; 
 A footstep was heard in the rustling brake 
 Where the beech overshadowed the misty lake, 
 And a mourning voice, and a plunge from shore, 
 And the hunter w r as seen on the hills no more. 
 
 When years had passed on, by that still lakeside 
 The fisher looked down through the silver tide, 
 And there, on the smooth, yellow sand displayed, 
 A skeleton wasted and white was laid, 
 And t was seen, as the waters moved deep and slow, 
 That the hand was still grasping a hunter s bow. 
 
APPENDIX. 337 
 
 JECKOYVA. 
 
 The Indian chief, Jeckoyva, as tradition says, perished alone on the 
 mountain which now bears Ins name. Night overtook him whilst 
 hunting among the cliffs, and he was not heard of till after a long 
 time, when his half-decayed corpse was found at the foot of a high 
 rock, over which he must have fallen. Mount Jeckoyva is near the 
 White Hills. 
 
 THEY made the warrior s grave beside 
 The dashing of his native tide ; 
 And there was mourning in the glen 
 The strong wail of a thousand men 
 
 O er him thus fallen in his pride, 
 Ere mist of age, or blight, or blast, 
 Had o er his mighty spirit past. 
 
 They made the warrior s grave beneath 
 The bending of the wild elm s wreath, 
 When the dark hunter s piercing eye 
 Had found that mountain rest on high, 
 
 Where, scattered by the sharp wind s breath, 
 Beneath the rugged cliff were thrown 
 The strong belt and the mouldering bone. 
 
 Where was the warrior s foot, when first 
 The red sun on the mountain burst ? 
 Where, when the sultry noontime came 
 On the green vales with scorching flame, 
 
 And made the woodlands faint with thirst ? 
 T was where the wind is keen and loud, 
 And the gray eagle breasts the cloud. 
 22 
 
338 APPENDIX. 
 
 Where was the warrior s foot when night 
 Veiled in thick cloud the mountain height ? 
 None heard the loud and sudden crash, 
 None saw the fallen warrior dash 
 
 Down the bare rock so high and white ! 
 But he that drooped not in the chase 
 Made on the hills his burial-place. 
 
 They found him there, when the long day 
 
 Of cold desertion passed away, 
 
 And traces on that barren cleft 
 
 Of struggling hard with death were left, 
 
 Deep marks and footprints in the clay ! 
 And they have laid this feathery helm 
 By the dark river and green elm. 
 
 THE SEA-DIVER. 
 
 MY way is on the bright blue sea, 
 My sleep upon its rocking tide ; 
 
 And many an eye has followed me 
 Where billows clasp the worn seaside. 
 
 My plumage bears the crimson blush, 
 When ocean by the sea is kissed ; 
 
 When fades the evening s purple flush, 
 My dark wing cleaves the silver mist. 
 
 Full many a fathom down beneath 
 The bright arch of the splendid deep 
 
APPENDIX. 339 
 
 My ear has heard the sea-*hell breathe 
 O er living myriads in their sleep. 
 
 They rested by the coral throne, 
 
 And by the pearly diadem ; 
 Where the pale sea-grape had o ergrown 
 
 The glorious dwellings made for them. 
 
 At night upon my storm-drenched wing, 
 
 I poised above a helmless bark, 
 And soon I saw the shattered thing 
 
 Had passed away and left no mark. 
 
 And when the wind and storm were done, 
 
 A ship, that had rode out the gale, 
 Sunk down, without a signal gun, 
 
 And none was left to tell the tale. 
 
 I saw the pomp of day depart, 
 
 The cloud resign its golden crown, 
 When to the ocean s beating heart 
 
 The sailor s wasted corse went down. 
 
 Peace be to those whose graves are made 
 
 Beneath the bright and silver sea ! 
 Peace, that their relics there were laid 
 
 With no vain pride and pageantry ! 
 
340 APPENDIX. 
 
 MUSINGS. 
 
 I SAT by my window one night, 
 
 And watch d how the stars grew high, 
 
 And the earth and skies were a splendid sight 
 To a sober and musing eye. 
 
 From heaven the silver moon shone down 
 
 With gentle and mellow ray, 
 And beneath the crowded roofs of the town 
 
 In broad light and shadow lay. 
 
 A glory was on the silent sea, 
 
 And mainland and island too, 
 Till a haze came over the lowland lea, 
 
 And shrouded that beautiful blue. 
 
 Bright in the moon the autumn wood 
 
 Its crimson scarf unrolled, 
 And the trees like a splendid army stood 
 
 In a panoply of gold ! 
 
 I saw them waving their banners high, 
 As their crests to the night wind bowed, 
 
 And a distant sound on the air went by, 
 Like the whispering of a crowd. 
 
 Then I watched from my window how fast 
 
 The lights all around me tied, 
 As the wearied man to his slumber passed, 
 
 And the sick one to his bed. 
 
APPENDIX. 341 
 
 All faded save one, that burned 
 
 With distant and steady light ; 
 But that, too, went out, and I turned 
 
 Where my own lamp within shone bright ! 
 
 Thus, thought I, our joys must die ; 
 
 Yes, the brightest from earth we win ; 
 Till each turns away, with a sigh, 
 
 To the lamp that burns brightly within. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 WHERE, from the eye of day, 
 
 The dark and silent river, 
 Pursues through tangled woods a way 
 
 O er which the tall trees quiver, 
 
 The silver mist, that breaks 
 From out that woodland cover, 
 
 Betrays the hidden path it takes, 
 And hangs the current over ! 
 
 So oft the thoughts that burst 
 From hidden springs of feeling, 
 
 Like silent streams, unseen at first, 
 From our cold hearts are stealing. 
 
 But soon the clouds that veil 
 The eye of Love, when glowing, 
 
 Betray the long unwhispered tale 
 Of thoughts in darkness flowing 1 
 
342 APPENDIX. 
 
 TWO SONNETS FROM THE SPANISH OF FRAN- 
 CISCO DE MEDRANO. 1 
 
 I. 
 
 ART AND NATURE. 
 Causa la vista el artificio humano, etc. 
 THE works of human artifice soon tire 
 
 The curious eye ; the fountain s sparkling rill, 
 
 And gardens, when adorned by human skill, 
 Reproach the feeble hand, the vain desire. 
 
 But oh ! the free and wild magnificence 
 Of Nature in her lavish hours doth steal, 
 
 In admiration silent and intense, 
 The soul of him who hath a soul to feel. 
 
 The river moving on its ceaseless way, 
 The verdant reach of meadows fair and green, 
 And the blue hills that bound the sylvan scene, 
 
 These speak of grandeur, that defies decay, 
 Proclaim the Eternal Architect on high, 
 Who stamps on all his works his own eternity. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE Two HARVESTS. 
 Yo vi romper aquestas vegas lianas, etc. 
 BUT yesterday those few and hoary sheaves 
 Waved in the golden harvest ; from the plain 
 I saw the blade shoot upward, and the grain 
 
 1 These sonnets appeared at the end of Mr. Longellow s first sepa 
 rate publication, " Coplas de Don Jorge Manrique, translated from 
 the Spanish, with an Introductory Essay on the Moral and Devotional 
 Poetry of Spain. By Henry W. Longfellow, Professor of Mod. Lang, 
 and Lit. in Bowdoin College." Boston : Allen and Ticknor, 1833. 
 Pp. 85-87. They have never since been reprinted. 
 
APPENDIX. 343 
 
 Put forth the unripe ear and tender leaves. 
 
 Then the glad upland smiled upon the view, 
 And to the air the broad green leaves unrolled, 
 A peerless emerald in each silken fold, 
 
 And on each palm a pearl of morning dew. 
 And thus sprang up and ripened in brief space 
 
 All that beneath the reaper s sickle died, 
 
 All that smiled beauteous in the summer-tide. 
 And what are we ? a copy of that race, 
 
 The later harvest of a longer year ! 
 
 And oh ! how many fall before the ripened ear ! 
 
344 APPENDIX. 
 
 No. VI. 
 
 [From "The Literary World," Feb. 26, 1882.] 
 
 A BIBLIOGRAPHY OF LONGFELLOW. 
 
 I. 
 The Published Works of Mr. Longfellow to Date. 
 
 ELEMENTS OF ERENCH GRAMMAR. Translated from the Erench 
 
 of C. E. L Homond. [Boston : 1830.] 
 ORIGIN AND PROGRESS or THE ERENCH LANGUAGE. North 
 
 Amer. Rev., 32. 277. [April, 1831.] 
 
 DEFENCE OF POETRY. North Am. Rev., 34. 56. [Jan., 1832.] 
 HISTORY OF THE ITALIAN LANGUAGE AND DIALECTS. North 
 
 Am. Rev., 35. 283. [October, 1832.] 
 SYLLABUS DE LA GRAMMAIRE ITALIENNE. [Boston : 1832.] 
 COURS DE LANGUE ERA^AISE. [Boston : 1832.] 
 I. Le Ministre de Wakefield. 
 
 II. Proverbes Dramatiques. 
 
 SAGGI DE NOVELLIERI ITALIAN i D OGNI SECOLO : Tratti da 
 
 piii celebri Scrittori, con brevi Notizie intorno alia Vita di 
 
 ciascheduno. [Boston : 1832.] 
 SPANISH DEVOTIONAL AND MORAL POETRY. North Am. Rev., 
 
 34. 277. [April, 1832.] 
 COPLAS DE MANRIQUE. A Translation from the Spanish. 
 
 [Boston : Allen & Ticknor, 1833.] 
 
 Jorge Manrique was a Spanish poet of the fifteenth century. His 
 Coplas is a funeral poem on the death of his father, extending to five 
 hundred lines. Mr. Longfellow s volume is prefaced with the above 
 essay on the moral and devotional poetry of Spain, from the A 7 ". A. 
 Rev., 34. 277 ; and included in it are translations of Sonnets by Lope 
 de Vega and others. 
 
APPENDIX. 345 
 
 SPANISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE. North Am. Rev., 36. 
 
 316. [April, 1833.] 
 OLD ENGLISH ROMANCES. North Am. Rev., 37. 374. [Oct., 
 
 1833.] 
 OUTRE-MER ; a Pilgrimage beyond the Sea. 2 vols. [New 
 
 York: Harpers, 1835.] 
 
 A series of prose descriptions of foreign travel ; a sort of " Sketch 
 book." Reviewed by 0. W. Peabody in N. A. Rev., 39. 459-467; in 
 Am. Month. Rev., 4. 157. Its publication was begun in numbers, by 
 Hilliard, Gray, & Co. [Boston : 1833.] 
 
 THE GREAT METROPOLIS. North Am. Rev., 44. 461. [April, 
 1837.] 
 A lively review of a new work on London. 
 
 HAWTHORNE S TWICE TOLD TALES. North Am. Rev., 45. 59. 
 
 [July, 1837.] 
 TEGNER S FRITHIOFS SAGA. North Am. Rev., 45. 149. 
 
 [July, 1837.] 
 ANGLO-SAXON LITERATURE. North Am. Rev., 47. 90. [July, 
 
 1838.] 
 HYPERION, a Romance. 2 vols. [New York : 1839.] 
 
 This was the iirst of Mr. Longfellow s works written in his Cam 
 bridge home, in the very Washington chamber, indeed, of the Crai- 
 gie house, where lie still resides. Reviewed by C. C. Felton in N. A. 
 Rev., 51. 145-161 ; in So. Lit. Mess., 5. 839. 
 
 VOICES OF THE NIGHT. [Cambridge: 1839.] 
 
 Mr. Longfellow s first volume of poems, containing " The Psalm of 
 Life," " The Reaper and the Flowers," and six other poems, many of 
 which were originally published in the Knickerbocker Magazine; also 
 seven " Earlier Poems," as follows, all of which were composed before 
 the author was nineteen: " An April Day," "Autumn," "Woods in 
 Winter," " Hymn of the Moravian Nuns at Bethlehem," " Sunrise on 
 the Hills," "The Spirit of Poetry," "The Burial of the Minnisiuk." 
 
 Reviewed in ^V. A. Rev., 50. 266-269 ; Christ. Ex., 28. 242. 
 THE FRENCH LANGUAGE IN ENGLAND. North Am. Rev., 51. 
 
 285. [Oct., 1840.] 
 
346 APPENDIX. 
 
 BALLADS AND OTHER POEMS. [Cambridge: 1841.] 
 
 Including "The Skeleton in Armor," "The Wreck of the Hes 
 perus," "The Village Blacksmith," "God s Acre," "To the Kiver 
 Charles," and " Excelsior." Reviewed by C. C. Felton in N. A. Rev., 
 55. 114-144 ; by Poe, in his Literati. 
 
 POEMS ON SLAVERY. [1842.] 
 
 Composed during a return voyage from Europe, in 1842. 
 
 THE SPANISH STUDENT. A Play in Three Acts. [1843.] 
 
 In this dramatic poem may be found the song entitled "Sere 
 nade," beginning, " Stars of the summer night." Reviewed in Lond. 
 Ath., 1844, 8 ; in Irish Quart. Rev., June, 1855, 202 ; in Poe s Lite 
 rati ; in Whipple s Essays and Reviews, 1. 66. 
 
 [Editor.] THE WAIF : a Collection of Poems. [Cambridge : 
 
 1845.] 
 
 [Editor.] THE POETS AND POETRY OF EUROPE. [Philadel 
 phia: 1845.] 
 
 A collection of selections, translated from a large number of Euro 
 pean poets, with introductions and biographical and critical sketches. 
 Many of the translations are by Mr. Longfellow. A new edition, re 
 vised and enlarged, was published in 1871. Reviewed by F. Bowen 
 in^V. A. Rev., 61. 199. 
 
 THE BELFRY OF BRUGES, and Other Poems. [Boston : 1846.] 
 [Editor.] THE ESTRAY: a Collection of Poems. [Boston: 
 
 1847.] 
 
 EVANGELINE : a Tale of Acadie. [Boston : 1847.] 
 KAVANAGH : a Tale. Prose. [Boston : 1849.] 
 THE SEASIDE AND THE FIRESIDE. [Boston: 1850.] 
 
 Contains " The Building of the Ship," " Resignation," and twenty- 
 one other poems. 
 
 THE GOLDEN LEGEND. [Boston: 1851.] 
 
 Reviewed in Blackwood, 5. 71 ; in Eclec., 4th s., 31. 455. 
 
 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA. [Boston: 1855.] 
 Reviewed by Rev. E. E. Hale in N. A. Rev., 82. 272. 
 
APPENDIX. 347 
 
 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. [Boston : 1858.] 
 With " Birds of Passage, Flight the First," twenty-two poems, 
 
 including " In the Churchyard at Cambridge " and " The Fiftieth 
 
 Birthday of Agassiz." 
 
 Keviewed by A. P. Peabody in N. A. Rev., 88. 275. 
 
 TALES OP A WAYSIDE INN. [Boston: 1863.] 
 
 "First Day," with "Birds of Passage, Flight the Second," seven 
 poems, including " The Children s Hour," aud " The Cumberland." 
 
 FLOWER-DE-LUCE. [Boston: 1867.] 
 Twelve poems. 
 
 NEW ENGLAND TRAGEDIES. [Boston : 1868.] 
 
 I. John Endicott. 
 
 II. Giles Cory of the Salem Farms. 
 
 Reviewed by E. J. Cutler in A T . A . Rev., 108. 669. 
 
 DANTE S DIVINE COMEDY. A Translation. [Boston : 1867- 
 
 70.] 
 
 Three vols. I. Inferno. II. Purgatorio. III. Paradise. The same 
 in 1 vol. 
 
 Reviewed by Charles Eliot Norton in N. A. Rev., 105. 125 ; by 
 George W. Greene in Atlantic M., 20. 188. 
 
 THE DIVINE TRAGEDY. [Boston : 1872.] 
 CHRISTUS : A MYSTERY. [Boston : 1872.] 
 
 Collecting, for the first time, into their consecutive unity : 
 I. The Divine Tragedy. 
 
 II. The Golden Legend. 
 
 III. The New England Tragedies. 
 
 THREE BOOKS OF SONG. [Boston-. 1872.] 
 
 Contents: " Tales of a Wayside Inn, Second Day"; "Judas 
 Maccabaeus (a dramatic poem in five acts) ; and "A Handful of Trans 
 lations," eleven in number. 
 
 AFTERMATH. [Boston: 1874.] 
 
 Contents: "Tales of a Wayside Inn, Third Day," and "Birds of 
 Passage, Flight the Third." 
 
348 APPENDIX. 
 
 THE MASQUE OP PANDORA, and Other Poems. [Boston: 
 
 1875.] 
 
 Contents: " The Hanging of the Crane"; " Morituri Salutamus," 
 the Bowdoin College poem for the serai-centennial of the author s 
 class of 1825 ; " Birds of Passage, Flight the Fourth " ; and "A Book 
 of Sonnets," fourteen in all. (An operatic version of "The Masque 
 of Pandora" was produced on the Boston stage in January, 1881.) 
 [Editor.] POEMS OP PLACES. 31 vols. [Boston : 1876- 
 
 1879.] 
 KERAMOS; and Other Poems. [Boston: 1878.] 
 
 Contents : A " Fifth Flight " of " Birds of Passage," sixteen in all, 
 among which are the tribute to James Russell Lowell entitled " The 
 Herons of Elmwood, and "The White Czar" ; a second "Book of 
 Sonnets," nineteen of them, including "The Three Silences," the 
 Literary World tribute to Whittier, "The Two Rivers," and "St. 
 John s, Cambridge"; and fifteen translations, eight from Michael 
 Angelo. 
 
 ULTIMA THULE. [Boston: 1880.] 
 
 II. 
 
 Additional Notices of Mr. Longfellow. 
 
 ARNAUD, Simon. La Legende Doree. [In Le Correspondent, 
 
 10 Juillet, 1872.] 
 
 COBB, J. B. Miscellanies. [1858.] pp. 330-357. 
 CURTIS, G. W. Atlantic Monthly. 12. 209. 
 
 Mr. Curtis s "Easy Chair" in Harper s Monthly contains notices 
 of Mr. Longfellow and his writings, as follows : " The Dante," 35. 
 257 ; " Reception in England," 37. 561 ; " New England Tragedies," 
 38. 271 ; " The Divine Tragedy," 44. 616. There is also a general 
 article on Longfellow in 1. 74. 
 
 COCHIN, Augustin. La Poesie en Amerique. [In Le Corre- 
 spondant, 10 Juillet, 1872.] 
 
APPENDIX. 349 
 
 DEPRET, Louis. Le Va-et-Vient. [Paris : n. d.] 
 The same. La Poesie en Amerique. [Lille : 1876.] 
 DE PRINS, A. Etudes Americaines. [Louvain : 1877.] 
 FRISWELL, J. H. Modern Men of Letters. [1870.] pp. 
 
 285-299. 
 
 GILFILLAN, George. Literary Portraits. Second Series. 
 PALMER, Ray. Longfellow and his Works. Int. Rev., Nov., 
 
 1875. 
 PECK, G. W. Review of Mr. Longfellow s Ecangeline. [New 
 
 York: 1848.] 
 P. T. C. Kalevala and Hiawatha. A Review. [185-.] pp. 
 
 21. 
 WHIPPLE, E. P. Essays and Reviews. 1. 60-63. 
 
 III. 
 Translations of Mr. Longfellow s Works. 
 
 ENGLISH. 
 
 NOEL. [A French poem by Longfellow in Flower-de-Luce.~] 
 Tr. by J. E. Norcross. [Philadelphia : 1867. Large paper. 
 50 copies printed.] 
 
 GERMAN. 
 
 Englische GedicTite aus Neuerer Zeit. Freiligrath, Ferdinand. 
 
 . . . H. W. Longfellow . . . [Stuttgart uud Tubingen : 
 
 1846.] 
 Longfellow s Gedichte. Ubersetzt von Carl Bottger. [Dessau : 
 
 1856.] 
 Balladen und Lieder von H. W. Longfellow. Deutsch von A. 
 
 R. Nielo. [Minister: 1857.] 
 Longfellow s Gedichte. Von Friedrich Marx. [Hamburg and 
 
 Leipzig: 1868.] 
 
350 APPENDIX. 
 
 Longfellow s aeltere und neuere Gedichte in Auswald. Deutsch 
 
 von Adolf Laun. [Oldenburg: 1879.] 
 
 Der Spanische Studente. Ubersetzt von Karl Bottger. [Des 
 sau: 1854.] 
 
 The Same. Von Maria Helene Le Maistre. [Dresden : n. d.] 
 The Same. Ubersetzt von Hafeli, [Leipzig : n. d.] 
 Evangeline. Aus dem Englischen. [Hamburg : 1857.] 
 The Same. Aus dem Englischen, von P. J. Belke. [Leipzig : 
 
 1854.] 
 The Same. Eine Erzahlung aus Acadien. Yon Eduard Nic- 
 
 kles. [Karlsruhe: 1862.] 
 
 The Same. Dbersetzt von Frank Siller. [Milwaukee: 1879.] 
 The Same. Ubersetzt von Karl Knortz. [Leipzig : n. d.] 
 Longfellow s Eoangeline. Deutsch von Heinrich Viehoif. 
 
 [Trier: 1869.] 
 Die Goldene Legende. Deutsch von Karl Keck. [Wien : 
 
 1859.] 
 The Same. Ubersetzt von Elise Ereifrau von Hohenhausen. 
 
 [Leipzig: 1880.] 
 
 Das Lied von Hiawatha. Deutsch von Adolph Bottger. [Leip 
 zig: 1856.] 
 Der Sang von Hiawatha. Ubersetzt von Ferdinand Freiligrath. 
 
 [Stuttgart und Augsburg : 185 7-] 
 Hiawatha. Ubertragen von Hermann Simon. [Leipzig: 
 
 n. d.] 
 Der Sang von Hiawatha. Ubersetzt, eingeleitet und erklart 
 
 von Karl Knortz. [Jena : 1872.] 
 Miles Standish s Brautwerbung . Aus dem Englischen von F. 
 
 E. Baumgarten. [St. Louis : 1859.] 
 Die Brautwerbung des Miles Standish. Ubersetzt von Karl 
 
 Knortz. [Leipzig : 18 .] 
 Miles Standistis Brautwerbung. Cbersetzt von F. Manefeld. 
 
 [1867.] 
 
APPENDIX. 351 
 
 Die Sage von Konig Olaf. Ubersetzt von Ernst Rauscher. 
 
 The Same. Ubersetzt von W. Hertzberg. 
 
 Dorfschmid. Die Alte Uhr auf der Treppe. Des Schlaven 
 
 Traum. Tr. by H. Schmick. Archiv.f. d. Stud. d. n. Spr., 
 
 1858, 24. 214^217. 
 Gedichte von H. W. L. Deutsch von Alexander Neidhardt. 
 
 [Darmstadt: 1856.] 
 Der Bau des Schi/es. Tr. by Th. Zermelo. Archiv.f. d. Stud. 
 
 d. n. Spr., 1861, 30. 293-304. 
 
 Hyperion. Deutsch von Adolph Bottger. [Leipzig : 1856.] 
 Ein Psalm des Lebens, etc. Deutsch von Alexander Neidhardt. 
 
 Archiv.f. d. Stud. d. n. Spr., 1856, 29. 205-208. 
 Die Gottliche Tragodie. Ubersetzt von Karl Keck. [MS.] 
 The Same. Ubersetzt von Hermann Simon. [MS.] 
 Pandora. Ubersetzt von Isabella Schuchardt. [Hamburg: 
 
 1878.] 
 
 Morituri Salutamus. Ubersetzt von Dr. Ernst Schmidt. [Chi 
 cago : 1878.] 
 The Hanging of the Crane. Das Kesselhdngen. Ubersetzt 
 
 von G. A. Ziindt. [n. d.] 
 The Same. Das Einhangen des Kesselhakens, frei gearbeitet 
 
 von Joh. Henry Becker, [n. d.] 
 
 DUTCH. 
 
 Het Lied van Hiawatha. In het Nederdeutsch overgebragt 
 door L. S. P. Meijboom. [Amsterdam : 1862.] 
 
 Miles Standish. Nagezongen door S. I. Van den Berg. 
 Haarlem: 1861.] 
 
 SWEDISH. 
 
 Hyperion. Pa Svenska, af Gronlund. [1853.] 
 Evangeline. Pa Svenska, af Alb. Lysander. [1854.] 
 
352 APPENDIX. 
 
 The Same. Ofversatt af Hjalmar Erdgren. [Goteborg: 1875.] 
 The Same. Ofversatt af Philip Svenson. [Chicago : 1875.] 
 Hiawatha. Pa Svenska af Westberg. [1856.] 
 
 DANISH. 
 
 Evangeline. Paa Norsk ved Sd. C. Knutsen. [Christiania : 
 
 1874.] 
 Sangen om Hiawatha. Oversat af G. Bern. [Kjobenhavn : 
 
 I860.] 
 
 FRENCH. 
 
 Evangeline ; suivie des Voix de la Nuit. Par le Chevalier de 
 Chatelain. [Jersey, London, Paris, New York : 1856.] 
 
 The Same. Conte d Acadie. Traduit par Charles Brunei. 
 Prose. [Paris: 1864.] 
 
 The Same. Par Leon Pamphile Le May. [Quebec : 1865.] 
 
 La Legende Doree, et Poemes sur 1 Esclavage. Traduits par 
 Paul Blier et Edward Mac-Donnel. Prose. [Paris et Va 
 lenciennes : 1854.] 
 
 Hiawatha. Traduit de 1 Anglais par M. H. Gomont. [Nancy, 
 Paris: I860.] 
 
 Drames et Poesies. Traduits par X. Marmier. The New Eng 
 land Tragedies. [Paris: 1872-] 
 
 Hyperion et Kavanagh. Traduit de 1 Anglais, et precede d une 
 Notice sur 1 Auteur. 2 vols. [Paris et Bruxelles : I860.] 
 
 The Psalm of Life, and Other Poems. Tr. by Lucien de la 
 Rive in Essais de Traduction Poetique. [Paris : 1870.] 
 
 ITALIAN. 
 
 Alcune Poesie di Enrico W. Longfellow. Traduzione dall Inglese 
 di Angelo Messedaglia. [Padova: 1866.] 
 
APPENDIX. 353 
 
 Lo Studente Spagnuolo. Prima Versione Metrica di Messan- 
 
 dro Bazzini. [Milano : 1871.] 
 The Same. Traduzione di Nazzareno Trovanelli. [Firenze: 
 
 1876.] 
 Poesie sulla Schiavitu. Tr. in Yersi Italian! da Louisa Grace 
 
 Bartolini. [Firenze: I860.] 
 
 Ecangelina. Tradotta da Pietro Rotondi. [Firenze: 1857.] 
 The Same. Traduzione di Carlo Faccioli. [Verona : 1873.] 
 La Leggenda d" Oro. Tradotta da Ada Corbellini Martini. 
 
 [Parma: 1867.] 
 // Canto d Hiawatha. Tr. da L. G. Bartolini. Frammenti. 
 
 [Firenze : 1867.] 
 Miles Standish. Traduzione dall Inglese di Caterino Frattini. 
 
 [Padova: 1868.] 
 
 PORTUGUESE. 
 
 El Rei Roberto de Sicilia. Tr. by Dom Pedro II., Emperor of 
 
 Brazil. [Autograph MS.] 
 Ecangelina. Traducida por Franklin Doria. [Rio de Janeiro : 
 
 1874.] 
 The Same. Poema de Henrique Longfellow. Traducido por 
 
 Miguel Street de Arriaga. [Lisbon: n. d.] 
 The Same. By Flavio Reimar, in the Aurora Brasileira, 1874; 
 
 and by Jose de Goes Filho, in the Municipio, 1874. 
 
 SPANISH. 
 
 Evangelina. Romance de la Acadia. Traducido del Ingles por 
 Carlos Morla Vicuna. [Nueva York : 1871.] 
 
 POLISH. 
 
 Zlota Legenda. The Golden Legend. Tr. into Polish by 
 F. Jerzierski. [Warszawa: 1857.] 
 23 
 
354 APPENDIX. 
 
 Eoangelina. Tr. into Polish by Felix Jerzierski. [Warszawa : 
 
 1857.] 
 Duma o Hiawacie. The Song of Hiawatha. Tr. into Polish 
 
 by Feliksa Jerzierskiego. [Warszawa : I860.] 
 
 RUSSIAN AND OTHER LANGUAGES. 
 
 Excelsior, and Other Poems, in Russian. [St. Petersburg: 
 
 n. d.] 
 Hiawatha, rendered into Latin, with abridgment. By Francis 
 
 William Newman. [London: 1862.] 
 Excelsior. Tr. into Hebrew by Henry Gersoni. [n. d.] 
 A Psalm of Life. In Marathi. By Mrs. H. I. Bruce. [Sa- 
 
 tara: 1878.] 
 The Same. In Chinese. By Jung Tagen. [Written on a 
 
 fan.] 
 The Same. In Sanscrit. By Elihu Burritt and his pupils. 
 
 The sales of Longfellow s works up to 1857 are thus given 
 by Allibone in his Dictionary of Authors : 
 
 Title. Date of Publication. Copies. 
 
 Voices of the Night .... 1839 ........ 43,000 
 
 Ballads and Other Poems . . 1841 40,000 
 
 The Spanish Student . . . 1843 38,000 
 
 The Belfry of Bruges . . . 1846 38,000 
 
 Evangeline 1847 37,000 
 
 The Seaside and the Fireside . 1849 30,000 
 
 The Golden Legend .... 1851 17,000 
 
 Hiawatha 1855 50,000 
 
 Outre-Mer 1835 7,500 
 
 Hyperion 1839 14,550 
 
 Kavanagh 1849 ........ 10,500 
 
 Total . 325,550 
 
APPENDIX. 355 
 
 Of Longfellow s collected works in four of the leading edi 
 tions, there have been printed to date as follows : 
 
 Edition. Date of Publication. Copies. 
 
 Diamond 1867 110,000 
 
 Bed Line 1869 20,500 
 
 Household 1873 57,500 
 
 Library 1876 6,000 
 
 Total . 194,000 
 
 University Press : John Wilson & Son, Cambridge, 
 
1 3405 
 
 M84159 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY