GIFT OF x?_ H MEMOIR OF THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. HEMANS. BY HER SISTER. Not for the brightness of a mortal wreath, Not for a place 'mid kingly minstrels dead, But that, perchance, a faint gale of thy breath, A still small whisper in my song hath led One struggling spirit upwards to thy throne, Or but one hope, one prayer: for this alone I bless thee, O my God ! From "A Poet's Dying Hymn" by Mrs. HEMANS, PHILADELPHIA: LEA & BLANCHARD. 1840. MEMOIR MRS. HEMANS. PERHAPS there never was an individual who would have shrunk more sensitively from the idea of being made the subject of a biographical memoir, than she of whom, by a strange fatality, so many imperfect notices have been given to the world. The external events of her life were few and unimportant ; and that inward grief which pervaded and darkened her whole existence, was one with which " a stranger intermeddleth not." The gradual developement of her mind may be traced in the writings by which she alone wished to be generally known. In every thing approaching to intrusion on the privacies of domestic life, her favourite motto was, " Implora pace ;" and those to whom her wishes were most sacred in whose ears still echo the plaintive tones of her death-bed injunction, " Oh ! never let them publish any of my letters!" would fain, as far as regards all personal details, have " kept silence, even from good words ;" and in this spirit of reverential forbearance, would have believed they were best fulfilling her own affect- ing exhortation, " Leave ye the Sleeper with her God to rest." l 1 See " The Farewell to the Dead." 3 * (29) 30 MEMOIR OF MRS. REMANS. But it is now too late to deprecate or to deplore A part of Mrs. Hemans's correspondence has already been laid before the public ; and the result has been one which was, doubtless, little contemplated by the kindly-intentioned editor, that of creating a very inadequate estimate, of her character, by " present- ing, in undue prominence" (to use the words of a judicious critic,) 1 " a certain portion of the writer's mind, by no means the portion with which her ad- mirers will best sympathize, and omitting that othei and more exalted division of her nature, in which she was solely or pre-eminently herself." The spell having thus been broken, and the veil of the sanctuary lifted, it seems now to have become the duty of those with whose feelings the strict fulfilment of her own wishes would have been so far more ac- cordant, to raise that veil a little further, though with a reluctant and trembling hand. It has not been without a painful struggle, that any invasion has been made on the sanctity of private correspondence, gen- erously as their treasure-stores have been laid open by the friends who had hitherto guarded them so religiously. Such letters only have been selected as served to illustrate some individuality of character or temperament, or to exhibit the vivid powers of de- scription possessed by the writer ; and it is most earn- estly hoped that these unpretending memorials, feeble and deficient as they are felt to be, may, at least, be found free from anything which can give pain to others, or lead to any wrong impressions of the guile- 1 In the leading article of the " Dublin University Magazine" for August, 1837. MEMOIR OF MRS. I1EMANS. 31 less and confiding spirit, whose bright, and kindly, and endearing graces they so faintly attempt to pour tray. It is acknowledged, indeed, that as to the points of highest moral interest and importance, little more than negative merit is thus attained, and very imperfect redress afforded to a memory on which such partial light had been thrown by previous delineations. But the deficiency is knowingly incurred, as preferable to the use of the only means by which the picture could have been made more complete. For it was in a great measure impossible to render available those positive testimonies to the generous feelings of her heart, and the high principles of her nature, which her correspondence with intimate friends amply sup- plies, without a breach of those confidences of home and friendship, which no precedent can justify, and which can be reconciled to the feelings of an English family by no increase of public admiration to an in- dividual member, by no craving, however urgent or imperious, of the public taste. With a request, then, that the deficiency thus accounted for may be indul- gently borne in mind, a close is now gladly put to these prefatory remarks, and the reader's kind for- bearance bespoken for the other imperfections of a biographical sketch, which, it is needless to indicate, has not been drawn by the hand of an artist. FELICIA DOROTHEA BROWNE was born in Liverpool, on the 25th September, 1793. Her father, a native of Ireland, was a merchant of considerable eminence. Her mother, whose family name was Wagner, and who was of mingled Italian and German descent, was the daughter of the Imperial and Tuscan Consul at Liverpool. The subject of this memoir (the fifth of 32 MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. seven children, one of whom died an infant,) was dis- tinguished, almost from her cradle, by extreme beauty and precocious talents. Before she had attained the age of seven, her father, having suffered commercial reverses, in common with many others engaged in similar speculations at that revolutionary era, broke up his establishment in Liverpool, and removed with his family into Wales, where, for the next nine years, they resided at Gwrych, 1 near Abergele, in Denbigh- shire, a large old mansion, close to the sea, and shut in by a picturesque range of mountains. In the calm seclusion of this romantic region, with ample range through the treasures of an extensive library, the young poetess passed a happy childhood, to which she would often fondly revert amidst the vicissitudes of her after life. Here she imbibed that intense love of Nature which ever afterwards " haunted her like a passion," and that warm attachment for the " green land of Wales ;" its affectionate, true-hearted people their traditions, their music, and all their interesting characteristics, which she cherished to the last hours of her existence. After the loss of her eldest sister, who died young, her education became the first care of a mother, whose capability for the task could only be equalled by her devotedness : whose acquirements were of the highest order, and whose whole character, presenting a rare union of strong sense with primitive single-mindedness, was an exemplification of St. Paul's description of that charity which " suffereth long and 1 The greater part of this old house has since been taken down, and Gwrych Castle, the baronial-looking seat of Lloyd Bamford Ilesketh, Esq., erected on the opposite height. MEMOIR OF MRS. REMANS. 33 is kind," " seeketh not her own," " thinketh no evil." Her piety was sober, steadfast, and cheerful ; never displaying itself in high-wrought excitements or osten- tatious professions, but silently influencing every ac- tion of her life, and shedding a perpetual sunshine over all which came within its sphere. How truly the love of this exemplary mother was returned and appreciated, may be traced in many affecting instan- ces through the following pages, from the artless birth- day effusion of the child of eight years old, to the death-bed hymn of agonized affection, 1 in the matured years of the daughter, herself a matron and a mother. And when that love had been sealed and sanctified v by death, still more fervent are the yearnings breath- ed forth in the passionate adjuration to " the charmed picture" of the '* Sweet face that o'er her childhood shone ;" and last and deepest, and best of all, in the sonnet " To a Family Bible," in which the mourner, chasten- ed yet consoled, looks back upon the days when her mother's lips were wont to breathe forth the sacred lore of those hallowed pages, and meekly and thank- fully acknowledges it to have been "A seed not lost for which, in darker years, O Book of Heaven ! I pour, with grateful tears, Heart blessings on the holy dead and thee." It may well be imagined how the heart of such a mother would be garnered up in a child so gifted as the bright and blooming Felicia, whose extraordinary quickness in acquiring information of every kind, was 1 " Hymn by a bed of sickness," written in January, 1827. 34 MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. not less remarkable than the grasp of memory with which she retained it. She could repeat pages of poetry from her favourite authors, after having read them but once over ; and a scarcely less wonderful faculty was the rapidity of her reading, which even in childhood, and still more in after life, was such, that a bystander would imagine she w r as only carelessly turning over the leaves of a book, when, in truth, she was taking in the whole sense as completely as others would do whilst poring over it with the closest atten- tion. One of her earliest tastes was a passion for Shakspeare, which she read, as her choicest recrea- tion, at six years old ; and in later days she would often refer to the hours of romance she had passed in a secret haunt of her own a seat amongst the branches of an old apple-tree where, revelling in the treasures of the cherished volume, she would become completely absorbed in the imaginative world it revealed to her. 1 The following lines, written at eleven years old, may be adduced as a proof of her juvenile enthusiasm. . J An allusion to this favourite haunt will be found in the son- net called " Orchard Blossoms," written in 1834. " Doth some old nook, Haunted by visions of thy first-loved book, Rise on thy soul, with faint-streaked blossoms white Showered o'er the turf, and the lone primrose-knot, And robin's nest, still faithful to the spot, And the bee's dreamy chime 1 O gentle friend ! The world's cold breath, not Time's, this life bereaves Of vernal gifts Time hallows what he leaves, And will for us endear spring-memories to the end." MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. 35 SHAKSPEARE. I love to rove o'er history's page, Recall the hero and the sage; Revive the actions of the dead, And memory of ages fled : Yet it yields me greater pleasure, To read the poet's pleasing measure. Led by Shakspeare, bard inspired, The bosom's energies are fired; We learn to shed the generous tear, O'er poor Ophelia's sacred bier; To love the merry moonlit scene, With fairy elves in valleys green ; Or, borne on fancy's heavenly wings, To listen while sweet Ariel sings. How sweet the "native woodnotes wild" Of him, the Muse's favourite child ! Of him whose magic lays impart Each various feeling to the heart ! At about the age of eleven, she passed a winter in London with her father and mother ; and a similar sojourn was repeated in the following year, after which she never visited the metropolis. The contrast between the confinement of a town life, and the happy freedom of her own mountain home, was even then so grateful to her, that the indulgences of plays and sights soon ceased to be cared for, and she longed to rejoin her younger brother l and sister in their favourite 1 Claude Scott Browne, the brother here alluded to, who was one year younger than Mrs. Hemans, died at Kingston, in Upper Canada (where he was employed as a Deputy-Assistant Com- missary General,) in 1821. "They grew in beauty, side by side, They fill'd one home with glee ; Their graves are sever'd far and wide, By mount, and stream, and sea." The Graves of a Household. 36 MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. rural haunts and amusements the nuttery wood, the beloved apple-tree, the old arbour, with its swing, the post-office tree, in whose trunk a daily interchange of family letters was established, the pool where fairy ships were launched (generally painted and decorated by herself,) and, dearer still, the fresh, free ramble on the sea-shore, or the mountain expedition to the Sig- nal Station, or the Roman Encampment. In one of her letters, the pleasure with which she looked for- ward to her return home, was thus expressed in rhyme. WRITTEN FROM LONDON TO MY BROTHER AND SISTER IN THE COUNTRY. Happy soon we'll meet again, Free from sorrow, care, and pain; Soon again we'll rise with dawn, To roam the verdant dewy lawn; Soon the budding leaves we'll hail, Or wander through the well-known vaie; Or weave the smiling wreath of flowers ; And sport away the light-wing'd hours. Soon we'll run the agile race ; Soon, dear playmates, we'll embrace; Through the wheat field or the grove, We'll, hand in hand, delighted rove ; Or, beneath some spreading oak, Ponder the instructive book; Or view the ships that swiftly glide, Floating on the peaceful tide; Or raise again the carolled lay; Or join again in mirthful play; Or listen to the humming bees, As their murmurs swell the breeze; Or seek the primrose where it springs; Or chase the fly with painted wings ; MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. 37 r Or talk beneath the arbour's shade ; Or mark the tender shooting blade; Or stray beside the babbling stream, When Luna sheds her placid beam; Or gaze upon the glassy sea Happy, happy shall we be ! Some things, however, during these visits to Lon- don, made an impression never to be effaced, and she retained the most vivid recollection of several of the great works of art which she was then taken to see. On entering a gallery of sculpture, she involuntarily exclaimed " Oh ! hush ! don't speak ;" and her mother used to take pleasure in describing the inte- rest she had excited in a party who happened to be visiting the Marquess of Stafford's collection at the same time, by her unsophisticated expressions of de- light, and her familiarity with the mythological and classical subjects of many of the pictures. In 1808, a collection of her poems, w^hieh had long been regarded amongst her friends with a degree of admiration, perhaps more partial than judicious, was submitted to the world, in the form (certainly an ill- advised one) of a quarto volume. Its appearance drew down the animadversions of some self-consti- tuted arbiter of public taste, and the young poetess was thus early initiated into the pains and perils at- tendant upon the career of an author ; though it may here be observed, that, as far as criticism was con- cerned, this was at once the first and last time she was destined to meet with anything like harshness or mortification. Though this unexpected severity was felt bitterly for a few days, her buoyant spirit VOL. I. 4 38 MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. soon rose above it, and her effusions continued to be poured forth as spontaneously as the song of the sky- lark. New sources of inspiration were now opening to her view. Birthday addresses, songs by the sea- shore, and invocations to fairies, were henceforth to be diversified with warlike themes; and trumpets and banners now floated through the dreams in which birds and flowers had once reigned paramount. Her two elder brothers had entered the army at an early age, and were both serving in the 23d Royal Welsh Fusiliers. One of them was now engaged in the Spanish campaign under Sir John Moore ; and a vivid imagination and enthusiastic affections being alike enlisted in the cause, her young mind was filled with glorious visions of British valour and Spanish patriot- ism. In her ardent view, the days of chivalry seem- ed to be restored, and the very names which were of daily occurrence in the despatches, were involuntarily associated with the deeds of Roland and his Paladins, or of her own especial hero, " The Cid Ruy Diaz," the campeador. Under the inspiration of these feel- ings, she composed a poem, entitled " England and Spain," which was published and afterwards trans- lated into Spanish. This cannot but be considered as a very remarkable production for a girl of fourteen ; ofty sentiments, correctness of language, and histori- cal knowledge, being all strikingly displayed in it. The very time when her mind was wrought up to this pitch of romantic enthusiasm, was that which first brought to her acquaintance the person who was destined to exercise so important an influence over her future life. Captain Hemans, then in the 4th, or MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. 39 King's Own Regiment, whilst on a visit in the neigh- bourhood, was introduced to the family at Gwrych, The young poetess was then only fifteen ; in the full glow of that radiant beauty which was destined to fade so early. The mantling bloom of her cheeks was shaded by a profusion of natural ringlets, of a rich golden brown; and the ever-varying expression of her brilliant eyes gave a changeful play to her countenance, which would have made it impossible for any painter to do justice to it. The recollection of what she was at that time, irresistibly suggests a quotation from Wordsworth's graceful poetic pic- ture : *' She was a phantom of delight, When first she gleamed upon m)r sight ; A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament. ***** A dancing shape, an image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay." That so fair a being should excite the warmest admiration, was not surprising. Perhaps it was not more so, that the impassioned expression of that ad- miration should awaken reciprocal feelings in the bosom of a young, artless, and enthusiastic girl, readily investing him who professed such devotion, (and who, indeed, was by no means destitute of advantages either of person or education,) with all the attributes of the heroes of her dreams. Their intercourse at this time was not of long continuance ; for Captain Hemans was called upon to embark with his regiment for Spain ; and this circumstance was in itself uf* 40 MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. ficient to complete the illusion which had now gained possession of her heart. It was hoped by the friends of both parties, that the impressions thus formed might prove but a passing fancy, which time and distance would efface ; but the event proved otherwise, though nearly three years elapsed before they met again. In 1809, the family removed from Gwrych to Bron- wylfa, near St. Asaph, 1 in Flintshire. Here, though in somewhat less of seclusion than during the previous years of her life, her mind continued to develope itself, and her tastes and pursuits to embrace a progressively wider range. The study of the Spanish and Portu- guese languages was added to the already acquired French and Italian. She also read German, though it was not until many years later that she entered with full appreciation into the soul and spirit of that magnificent language, and wrote of it as " having opened to her a new world of thought and feeling, so that even the music of the Eichenland, 2 as Korner calls it, seemed to acquire a deeper tone, when she had gained a familiarity with its noble poetry." The powers of her memory were so extraordinary, as to be sometimes made the subject of a wager, by those who were sceptical as to the possibility of her achieving, what she would, in the most undoubting simplicity, undertake to perform. On one of these occasions, to satisfy the incredulity of one of her brothers, she learned by heart, having never read it 1 This place was purchased, some years afterwards, by Mrs. Heman's eldest brother, Colonel Sir Henry Browne. a Land of Oaks. MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. 41 before, the whole of Heber's poem of " Europe" in one hour and twenty minutes, and repeated it with- out a single mistake or a moment's hesitation. The length of this poem is four hundred and twenty-four lines. She had a taste for drawing, which, with time and opportunity for its cultivation, would, doubtless, have led to excellence ; but having so many other pursuits requiring her attention, she seldom attempted any- thing beyond slight sketches in pencil or Indian ink. Her correctness of eye, and the length and clearness of her vision, were almost as proverbial amongst her friends as her extraordinary powers of memory. She played both the harp and piano with much feeling and expression, and at this time had a good voice, but in a very few years it became weakened by the frequent recurrence of affections of the chest, and singing was consequently discontinued. Even in her most joyous days, the strains she preferred were always those of a pensive character. The most skil- ful combinations of abstract musical science did not interest or please her : what she loved best were national airs, whether martial or melancholy, (amongst these the Welsh and Spanish were her favourites), and whatever might be called suggestive music, as awakening associations either traditional, local, or imaginary. There are ears in which certain melodies are completely identified with the recollection of her peculiarly soft and sostenuto touch, which gave to the piano an effect almost approaching to the swell of an organ. Amongst these may be mentioned Jomelli's Chaconne, Oginsky's well-known Polonaise, some of 42 MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. the slow movements from the Ballet of Nina, and a little touching air called the Moravian Nun, brought from Germany by her eldest brother, who had learned it by ear. In after life, when, like " a reed shaken by the wind," her frame had been shattered by sorrow and suffering, the intensity of her perceptions was such, that music became a painful excitement, and there were times when her nerves were too much over- wrought to bear it. Allusions to this state of feeling are found in many of her poems ; and in one of her letters, referring to a work of Richter's, she thus expresses herself: " What a deep echo gives answer within the mind to the exclamation of the ' immortal old man' at the sound of music. 1 * Away ! away! 1 " Once in dreams, I saw a human being of heavenly intellec- tual faculties, and his aspirations were heavenly; but he was chained, methought, eternally to the earth. The immortdl old man had five great wounds in his happiness five worms that gnawed for ever at his heart. He was unhappy in spring-time, because that is a season of hope, and rich with phantoms of far happier days than any which this Aceldama of earth can rea- lize. He was unhappy at the sound of music, which dilates the heart of man with its whole capacity for the infinite; and he cried aloud, * Away ! away ! Thou speakest of things which, throughout my endless life, I have found not, and shall not find !' He was unhappy at the remembrance of earthly affec- tions and dissevered hearts ; for Love is a plant which may bud in this life, but must flourish in another. He was unhappy under the glorious spectacle of the heavenly host, and ejacu- lated for ever in his heart * So, then, I am parted from you to all eternity by an impassable abyss ! the great universe of suns is above, below, and round about me, but I am chained to a little ball of dust and ashes !' He was unhappy before the great ideas MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. 43 thou speakest of things which, throughout my endless life, I have found not, and shall not find ! ' All who have felt music, must, at times, I think, have felt this, making its sweetness too piercing to be sustained. Some of the happiest days the young poetess ever passed were during occasional visits to some friends at Conway, where the charms of the scenery, combining all that is most beautiful in wood, water, and ruin, are sufficient to inspire the most prosaic tempera- ment with a certain degree of enthusiasm ; and it may therefore well be supposed, how fervently a soul, constituted like hers, would worship Nature at so fitting a shrine. With that happy versatility, which was at all times a leading characteristic of her mind, she would now enter with child-like playfulness into the enjoyments of a mountain scramble, or a pic-nic water party, the gayest of the merry band, of whom some are now, like herself, laid low, some far away in foreign lands, some changed by sorrow, and all by time ; and then, in graver mood, dream away hours of pensive contemplation amidst the grey ruins of that noblest of Welsh castles, standing, as it then did, in solitary grandeur, unapproached by bridge or cause- way, flinging its broad shadow across the tributary waves which washed its regal walls. These lovely scenes never ceased to retain their hold over the imagination of her whose youthful muse had so often of virtue, of truth, and of God ; because he knew how feeble are the approximations to them which a son of earth can make. But this was a dream. God be thanked that there is no such asking eye directed upwards towards heaven, to which Death will not one day bring an answer !" From the German of Richler. 14 MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. celebrated their praises. Her peculiar admiration of Mrs. Joanna Baillie's play of Ethwald was always pleasingly associated with the recollection of her having first read it amidst the ruins of Con way Castle. At Conway, too, she first made acquaintance with the lively and graphic Chronicles of the chivalrous Frois- sart, whose inspiring pages never lost their place in her favour. Her own little poem, " The Ruin and its Flowers," which will be found amongst the earlier pieces in the present collection, was written on an excursion to the old fortress of Dyganwy, the remains of which are situated on a bold promontory near the entrance of the river Conway ; and whose ivied walls, now fast mouldering into oblivion, once bore their part bravely in the defence of Wales; and are further endeared to the lovers of song and tradition, as having echoed the complaints of the captive Elphin, and resounded to the harp of Taliesin. A scarcely degene- rate representative of that gifted bard 1 had, at the time now alluded to, his appropriate dwelling-place at Conway ; but his strains have long been silenced, and 1 Mr. Edwards, the Harper of Conway, as he was generally called, had been blind from his birth, and was endowed with that extraordinary musical genius, by which persons suffering under such a visitation, are not unfrequently indemnified. From the respectability of his circumstances, he was not called upon to exercise his talents with any view to remuneration. He played to delight himself and others ; and the innocent complacency with which he enjoyed the ecstasies called forth by his skill, and the degree of appreciation with which he regarded himself, as in a manner consecrated, by being made the depositary of a direct gift from Heaven, were, as far as possible, removed from any of the common modifications of vanity or self-conceit MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. 45 there now remain few, indeed, on whom the Druidical mantle has fallen so worthily. In the days when his playing was heard by one so fitted to enjoy its origi- nality and beauty, "The minstrel was infirm and old;" but his inspiration had not yet forsaken him; and the following lines (written in 1811) will give an idea of the magic power he still knew how to exer- cise over the feelings of his auditors. TO MR. EDWARDS, THE HARPER OF CONWAY. Minstrel ! whose gifted hand can bring, Life, rapture, soul, from every string; And wake, like bards of former time, The spirit of the harp sublime ; Oh ! still prolong the varying strain ! Oh ! touch th' enchanted chords again ! Thine is the charm, suspending care, The heavenly swell, the dying close, The cadence melting into air, That lulls each passion to repose. While transport, lost in silence near, Breathes all her language in a tear. Exult, O Cambria! now no more, With sighs thy slaughtered bards deplore: What though Plinlimmon's misty brow, And Mona's woods be silent now, Yet can thy Conway boast a strain, Unrivall'd in thy proudest reign. For Genius, with divine control, Wakes the bold chord neglected long, And pours Expression's glowing soul O'er the wild Harp, renown'd in song: 46 MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. And Inspiration, hovering round, Swells the full energies of sound. Now Grandeur, pealing in the tone, Could rouse the warrior's kindling fire, And now, 'tis like the breeze's moan, That murmurs o'er th' Eolian lyre: As if some sylph, with viewless wing, Were sighing o'er the magic string. Long, long, fair Conway! boast the skill, That soothes, inspires, commands, at will ! And oh! while Rapture hails the lay, Far distant be the closing day, When Genius, Taste, again shall weep, And Cambria's Harp lie hush'd in sleep ! Whilst on the subject of Conway, it may not be amiss to introduce two little pieces of a very different character from the foregoing, which were written at the same place, three or four years afterwards, and will serve as a proof of that versatility of talent before alluded to. As may easily be supposed, they were never intended for publication, but were merely a jeu d' esprit of the moment, in good-humoured raillery of the indefatigable zeal and perseverance of one of the party in his geological researches : EPITAPH ON MR. W , A CELEBRATED MINERALOGIST. Stop, passenger! a wondrous tale to list Here lies a famous Mineralogist. Famous indeed ! such traces of his power, He's left from Penmaenbach to Penmaenmawr, Such caves, and chasms, and fissures in the rocks, His works resemble those of earthquake shocks ; MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. 47 And future ages very much may wonder What mighty giant rent the hills asunder, Or whether Lucifer himself had ne'er Gone with his crew to play at foot-ball there. His fossils, flints, and spars, of every hue, With him, good reader, here lie buried too Sweet specimens ! which, toiling to obtain, He split huge cliifs, like so much wood, in twain. We knew, so great the fuss he made about them, Alive or dead, he ne'er would rest without them, So, to secure soft slumber to his bones, We paved his grave with all his favourite stones. His much-loved hammer's resting by his side ; Each hand contains a shell-fish petrified : His mouth a piece of pudding-stone incloses, And at his feet a lump of coal reposes : Sure he was born beneath some lucky planet His very coffin-plate is made of granite. Weep not, good reader! he is truly blest Amidst chalcedony and quartz to rest: Weep not for him ! but envied be his doom, Whose tomb, though small, for all he loved had room : And, O ye rocks ! schist, gneiss, whate'er ye be, Ye varied strata ! names too hard for me i Sing, " Oh, be joyful !" for your direst foe, By death's fell hammer, is at length laid low. Ne'er on your spoils again shall W riot, Clear up your cloudy brows, and rest in quiet He sleeps no longer planning hostile actions, As cold as any of his petrifactions ; Enshrined in specimens of every hue, Too tranquil e'en to dream, ye rocks, of you. 48 MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. EPITAPH ON THE HAMMER OF THE AFORESAID MINERALOGIST. Here in the dust, its strange adventures o'er, A hammer rests, that ne'er knew rest before. Released from toil, it slumbers by the side Of one who oft its temper sorely tried ; No day e'er pass'd, but in some desperate strife He risk'd the faithful hammer's limbs and life; Now laying siege to some old limestone wall, Some rock now battering, proof to cannon-ball ; Now scaling heights like Alps or Pyrenees, Perhaps a flint, perhaps a slate to seize; But, if a piece of copper met his eyes, He'd mount a precipice that touch'd the skies, And bring down lumps so precious, and so many, I'm sure they almost would have made a penny ! Think, when such deeds as these were daily done, What fearful risks this hammer must have run. And, to say truth, its praise deserves to shine In lays more lofty and more famed than mine : Oh! that in strains which ne'er should be forgot, Its deeds were blazon'd forth by Walter Scott ! Then should its name with his be closely link'd, And live till every mineral were extinct. Rise, epic bards! be yours the ample field Bid W 's hammer match Achilles' shield: As for my muse, the chaos of her brain, I search for specimens of wit in vain ; Then let me cease ignoble rhymes to stammer, And seek some theme less arduous than the hammer; Rememb'ring well, " what perils do environ" Woman or "man that meddles with cold iron." About this time, also, she wrote, for her second brother, the following Prologue to the Poor Gentle- man, as intended to be performed by the officers of the 34th regiment at Clonmel : MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. 49 Enter Captain GEORGE BROWNE, in the character of CORPORAL Foss. To-night, kind friends, at your tribunal here, Stands "The Poor Gentleman," with many a fear; Since well he knows, who e'er may judge his cause, That Poverty's no title to applause. Genius or Wit, pray, who'll admire or quote, If all their drapery be a threadbare coat 1 ? Who, in a world where all is bought and sold, Minds a man's worth except his worth in gold] Who'll greet poor Merit if she lacks a dinner? Hence, starving saint, but welcome, wealthy sinner ! Away with Poverty ! let none receive her, She bears contagion as a plague or fever; " Bony, and gaunt, and grim" like jaundiced eyes, Discolouring all within her sphere that lies. "Poor Gentleman!" and by poor soldiers, too! O matchless impudence ! without a sous ! In scenes, in actors poor, and what far worse is, With heads, perhaps, as empty as their purses, How shall they dare at such a bar appear 1 ? What are their tactics and manoeuvres here? While thoughts like these come rushing o'er our mind, Oh! may we still indulgence hope to find? Brave sons of Erin ! whose distinguish'd name Shines with such brilliance in the page of Fame, And you, fair daughters of the Emerald Isle!" View our weak efforts with approving smile ! School'd in rough camps, and still disdaining art, 111 can the soldier act a borrowed part; The march, the skirmish, in this warlike age, Are his rehearsals, and the field his stage; His theatre is found in every land, Where wave the ensigns of a hostile band : Place him in danger's front he recks not where Be your own Wellington his prompter thgre, VOL. I. 5 50 MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. And on that stage, he trusts, with fearful mien, He'll act his part in glory's tragic scene. Yet here, though friends are gaily marshall'd round, And from bright eyes alone he dreads a wound, Here, though in ambush no sharpshooter's wile Aims at his breast, save hid in beauty's smile; Though all unused to pause, to doubt, to fear, Yet his heart sinks, his courage fails him here. No scenic pomp to him its aid supplies, No stage effect of glittering pageantries : No, to your kindness he must look alone, To realize the hope he dares not own; And trusts, since here he meets no cynic eye, His wish to please may claim indemnity. And why despair, indulgence when we crave From Erin's sons, the generous and the brave? Theirs the high spirit, and the liberal thought, Kind, warm, sincere, with native candour fraught; Still has the stranger, in their social isle, Met the frank welcome and the cordial smile, And well their hearts can share, though unexpress'd, Each thought, each feeling, of the soldier's breast. In 1812, another and much smaller volume, entitled The Domestic Affections and other Poems, was given to the world the last that was to appear with the name of -Felicia Browne ; for, in the summer of the same year, its author exchanged that appellation for the one under which she has become so much more generally known. Captain Hemans had returned to Wales in the preceding year, when the acquaintance was renewed which had begun so long before at Gwrych ; and as the sentiments then mutually awaken- ed continued unaltered, no further opposition was made to a union, on which (however little in accord- MEMOIR OF MRS. REMANS. 51 ance with the dictates of worldly prudence,) the hap- piness of both parties seemed so entirely to depend. They soon afterwards took up their residence at Daventry, Captain Hemans having been appointed Adjutant to the Northamptonshire Local Militia. Here they remained for about a twelvemonth, during which time their eldest son, Arthur, 1 was born. The tran- sition from her " own mountain land," as she would fondly call it, to a country so tame and uninteresting as the neighbourhood of Daventry, was felt by Mrs. Hemans to a degree almost amounting to the heimweh (home sickness) of the Swiss. The only scenery within reach of her new abode, which excited any pleasing associations, was that of Fawsley Park, of which the woods and lawns, the old Hall, with its quaint gables and twisted chimneys, and the vener- able, ivy-mantled church always retained a place in her " chambers of imagery," as presenting a happy combination of the characteristic features of an old English ancestral demesne. Her sonnet " On an old Church in an English Park," published in the Scenes and Hymns of Life, though written so many years after, was suggested by the recollection of this scenery, of which she had made several sketches. The unexpected reduction of the corps dissolving their connexion with a place to which they had no other ties, Captain Hemans and his family returned to Wales in the following year, and became domi- ciliated at Bronwylfa ; from which time, till the death 1 This child of many hopes, the first to awaken a mother's love, has been the first to rejoin her in the world beyond the grave. He died at Rome, in February, 1837. 52 MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. of her mother, Mrs. Hemans was never again with- drawn from the shelter of the maternal wing. 1 Early and deeply was she taught to appreciate the blessing of that shelter the value of that truest and tenderest friend, " the mother," to use her own words, " by whose unwearied spirit of love and hope she was encouraged to bear on through all the obstacles which beset her path." For several succeeding years, the life of Mrs. He- mans continued to be a scene of almost uninterrupted domestic privacy, her time being divided between the cultivation of her wonted studies, and the claims of an increasing family. Her five children were all sons a circumstance which many persons profess to have discovered from her writings, in which allusions to a mother's love are so frequent, and where the " blessed child," so often apostrophised or described, is always, it may be observed, a " gentle" or a " gallant" or a "bright-haired" boy, whose living image might be found in the blooming group around her. Her eager- ness for knowledge of every kind was intense ; and her industry may be attested by volumes, still existing, of extracts and transcriptions, almost sufficient to form a library in themselves. The mode of her studies was, to outward appearance, singularly desultory, as she would be surrounded by books of all sizes, in divers languages, and on every variety of topic, and would seem to be turning from one to another, like a bee flying from flower to flower : yet, whatever 1 Her father had, some time before, again engaged in mercan tile pursuits, and gone out to Quebec, where he died. MEMOIR OF MRS. REMANS. 53 confusion might reign without, all was clear and well-defined within. In her mind and memory, the varied stores were distinctly arranged, ready to be called forth for the happy illustration, the poetic imagery, or the witty comparison. She continued the study of languages with undiminished ardour, and made some progress in the acquisition of Latin. A volume of translations published in 1818, might have been called by anticipation, " Lays of many Lands." At the time now alluded to, her inspirations were chiefly derived from classical subjects. The " graceful superstitions" of Greece, and the sublime patriotism of Rome, held an influence over her thoughts which is evinced by many of the works of this period such as, The Restoration of the Works of Art to Italy, 1 Modern Greece, and several of the poems which formed the volume entitled Tales and Historic Scenes. At this stage of transition, "her poetry," to use the words of a judicious critique, 2 " was correct, clas- sical, and highly polished ; but it wanted warmth : it partook more of the nature of statuary than of paint- ing. She fettered her mind with facts and authorities, and drew upon her memory when she might have 1 This poem is thus alluded to by Lord Byron, in one of his published letters to Mr. Murray, dated from Diodati, Sept. 30th, 1816. " Italy or Dalmatia and another summer may, or may not, set me off again. " I shall take Felicia Hemans's Restoration, &c., with me it is a good poem very." 2 Written by the late Miss Jewsbury (afterwards Mrs. Fletch- er), and published in the Athenceum of Feb. 12th, 1831. 5* 54 MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. relied upon her imagination. She was diffident of herself, and, to quote her own admission, " loved to repose under the shadow of mighty names." This taste by degrees gave way to one which suggested a choice of subjects more nearly allied to the thoughts and feelings of daily life. She turned from the fables of antiquity, " Distinct, but distant clear, but oh ! how cold I" to the more heart-warming traditions of the middle ages ; imbuing every theme with the peculiar colour- ing of her own mind her instinctive sense of the picturesque, and her intense love of the beautiful. Her poetry of this class is so eloquently characterised by the able writer of the article already referred to, in the Dublin University Magazine, that in no other language can it be more truly and gracefully described. " Tender and enthusiastic, she fed her heart upon all things noble, and would tolerate no others as the aliment of imagination. She created for herself a world of high-souled men and women, whose love had no outward glitter, no surface-sparkle, but was a deep, overmastering stream, strong, steady, and unbroken. The men were made to hold high feast on days of victory to lead the resolute chivalry of freedom to consecrate banners in ancient churches, solemnized with rich evening light to scale the walls of cities or defend them to strike with courage to endure with fortitude. The women to sing hymns of pensive wor- ship to sit in antique bowers, with open missals and attendant maidens to receive at castle gates the true- hearted and the brave to rush amid the spears, and MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. 55 receive the wound meant for a sterner heart to clasp the infant snatched from peril at the peril of life to bear uncomplaining agonies and, above all, to wait long, long days for the deceiver who will not return ; to know the deadly sickness of a fading hope, and, at last, to dedicate a broken heart to him who has crushed it. These are the people and the achieve- ments of her pages ; here is the fountain and principle of her inspirations Honour deepened and sanctified by religion." In the year 1818, Captain Hemans, whose health had been long impaired by the previous vicissitudes of a military life, determined upon trying the effects of a southern climate ; and, with this view, repaired to Rome, which he was afterwards induced to fix upon as his place of residence. It has been alleged, and with perfect truth, that the literary pursuits of Mrs. Hemans and the education of her children, made it more eligible for her to remain under the maternal roof, than to ac- company her husband to Italy. It is, however, unfor- tunately but too well known, that such were not the only reasons which led to this divided course. To dwell on this subject would be unnecessarily painful, yet it must be stated, that nothing like a permanent separation was contemplated at the time, nor did it ever amount to more than a tacit conventional ar- rangement, which offered no obstacle to the frequent interchange of correspondence, nor to a constant re- ference to their father in all things relating to the disposal of her boys. But years rolled on seventeen years of absence, and consequently alienation and from this time to the hour of her death, Mrs. Hemans 56 MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. and her husband never met again. In a position so painful, as must ever be that of a woman for whom the most sacred of ties is thus virtually broken, all outward consolations can be but of secondary value yet much of what these could afford was granted to Mrs.Hemans in the extending influence of her talents, the growing popularity of her writings, and the warm interest and attachment of many private friends. Amongst the most devoted of these from an early period of their acquaintance, were the family of the late Bishop of St. Asaph, the good and lamented Dr. Luxmore. In this kind-hearted prelate, Mrs. Hemans possessed a never-failing friend and counsellor, whose advice, in the absence of nearer ties, she at all times sought with affectionate reliance, and whose approba- tion she valued with appreciating respect. His pater- nal kindness was not confined to herself, but extended with equal indulgence to her children, who were so accustomed to the interest he would take in their studies and sports, that they seemed to consider them- selves as having an inherent right to his notice and favour ; and would talk of " their own Bishop" in an amusing tone of appropriation. Many years after- wards, in a letter from Chiefswood, their mother thus alludes to the recollection of former days : " I have been much at Abbotsford, where my boys run in and out as if they were children of the soil, or as if it were < The Palace.'" The poem of The Sceptic, published in 1820, was one in which her revered friend took a peculiar interest. It had been her original wish to dedicate it to him, bu-t he declined the tribute, thinking H MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. 57 might be more advantageous to her to pay this com- pliment to Mr. Giflbrd, with whom she was at that time in frequent correspondence, and who entered very warmly into her literary undertakings, discussing them with the kindness of an old friend, and desiring her to command frankly whatever assistance his advice or experience could afford. Mrs. Hemans, in the first instance, consented to adopt the suggestion regarding the altered dedication ; but was afterwards deterred from putting it into execution, by a fear that it might be construed into a manoeuvre to propitiate the good graces of the Quarterly Review; and from the slight- est approach to any such mode of propitiation, hei sensitive nature recoiled with almost fastidious deli cacy. Shortly before the publication of The Sceptic, her prize poem, The Meeting of Wallace and Bruce on the Banks of the Carron, had appeared in Black wood's Magazine 1 for September, 1819. A patriotic individual having signified his intention of giving 1000 towards the erection of a monument to Sir William Wallace, and a prize of 50 for the best poem on the subject above alluded to, Mrs. Hemans was recommended by a zealous friend in Edinburgh, to enter the lists as a competitor, which she accord- ingly did, though without being in the slightest degree sanguine of success ; so that the news of the prize having been decreed to her was no less unexpected than gratifying. The number of candidates for this distinction w r as so overwhelming, as to cause not a 1 The stanzas on the " Death of the Princess Charlotte," had been published in the same periodical in April 1818. 58 MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. little embarrassment to the judges appointed to decide on their merits. A letter, written at the time, de- scribes them as being reduced to absolute despair by the contemplation of the task which awaited them; having to read over a mass of poetry that would require at least a month to wade through. Some of the contributions were from the strangest aspirants imaginable ; and one of them is mentioned as being as long as Paradise Lost. At length, however, the Her- culean labour was accomplished ; and the honour awarded to Mrs. Hemans on this occasion, seemed an earnest of the warm kindness and encouragement she was ever afterwards to receive at the hands of the Scottish public. One of the earliest notices of The Sceptic appeared in the Edinburgh Monthly Maga- zine ; and there is something in its tone so far more valuable than ordinary praise, and at the same time so prophetic of the happy influence her writings were one day to exercise, that the introduction of the con- cluding paragraph may not be unwelcome to the readers of this little memorial. After quoting from the poem, the reviewer thus proceeds : " These extracts must, we think, convey to every reader a favourable impression of the talents of their author, and of the admirable purposes to which her high gifts are directed. It is the great defect, as we imagine, of some of the most popular writers of the day, that they are not sufficiently attentive to the moral dignity of their performances ; it is the deep, and will be the lasting reproach of others, that in this point of view they have wantonly sought and realised the most pro- found literary abasement. With the promise of talents MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. 59 not inferior to any, and far superior to most of them, the author before us is not only free from every stain, but breathes all moral beauty and loveliness; and it will be a memorable coincidence if the era of a woman's sway in literature shall become co-eval with the return of its moral purity and elevation." 1 From suffrages such as these, Mrs. Hemans derived not merely present gratification, but encouragement and cheer for her onward course. It was still dearer to her to receive the assurances, with which it often fell to her lot to be blessed, of having, in the exer- cise of the talents intrusted to her, administered balm to the feelings of the sorrowful, or taught the despond- ing where to look for comfort. In a letter written at this time to a valued friend, recently visited by one of the heaviest of human calamities the loss of an ex- emplary mother she thus describes her own appre- ciation of such heart-tributes. " It is inexpressibly gratifying to me to know, that you should find anything I have written at all adapted to } r our present feelings, and that The Sceptic should have been one of the last 1 " It is pleasing to record the following tribute from Mrs. Hannah More, in a letter to a friend who had sent her a copy of The Sceptic. *I cannot refuse myself the gratification of saying, that I entertain a very high opinion of Mrs. Hemans's superior genius and refined taste. I rank her, as a poet, very high, and I have seen no work on the subject of her Modern Greece^ which evinces more just views, or more delicate per- ceptions of the fine and the beautiful. I am glad she has em- ployed her powerful pen, in this new instance, on a subject so worthy of it ; and anticipating the future by the past, I promise myself no small pleasure in the perusal, and trust it will not only confer pleasure, but benefit. 1 " 60 MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. books upon which the eyes, now opened upon brighter scenes, were cast. Perhaps, when your mind is suffi- ciently composed, you will inform me which were the passages distinguished by the approbation of that pure and pious mind : they will be far more highly valued by me than anything I have ever written." The sentiments expressed in the same letter on the subject of Affliction, its design and influence, are so completely a part of herself, that it would seem an omission to withhold them. They are embodied in the following words: "Your ideas respecting the nature and degree of sorrow for the departed, per- mitted us by that religion which seems to speak with the immediate voice of Heaven to affliction, coincide perfectly with my own. I have been hitherto spared a trial of this nature, but I have often passed hours in picturing to myself what would be the state of my mind under such a visitation. I am convinced, that though grief becomes criminal when it withdraws us from the active duties of life, yet that the wounds made by " the arrows of the Almighty" are not meant to be forgotten. If He who chastens those whom He loves, means, as we cannot doubt, by such inflictions to recall the Spirit to Himself, and prepare the mortal for immortality, the endeavour to obliterate such re collections is surely not less in opposition to His inten- tions, than the indulgence of that rebellious grief, which repines as if its own sufferings were an excep- tion to the general mercies of Heaven. Life is but too dear to us, even \vith all its precarious joys and heavy calamities; and constituted even as it is, we can hardly keep our minds fixed upon a brighter state MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. 61 with any degree of steadiness. What would it, then, be, if we were not continually reminded that " our all does not lie here ;" and if the loss of some beloved friend did not constantly summon our wandering thoughts from the present to the future ? I was so struck, a few days ago, with the concluding passage in the Memoirs of Mrs. Brunton, that I will not apolo- gize for transcribing part of it, as I am sure you will feel its beautiful and affecting coincidence. It is from a Funeral Sermon on the Death of the Righteous : " Let me exhort you, as you would rise superior to the fear of death, to cherish the memory of those who have already passed from the society of the few who were most dear to them on earth, to the society of the blessed in Heaven. How unnatural seems to be the conduct of many, whose consolation for the loss of a departed friend, appears to depend upon com- mitting his name to oblivion ! who appear to shrink from every object that would for a moment bring to their recollection the delight they once felt in his society ! If such conduct be, in any respect, excu- sable, it can only be in the case of those who have no hope in God. There are few, if any, among us, who have not, ere now, committed to the tomb the remains of some who had been, not only long, but deservedly dear to us ; whose virtues are in consequence a satis- fying pledge, that they have only gone before us to the mansions of bliss. Some of us have but recently laid in the grave all that was mortal and perishing, of one who may well continue to live in our remem- brance whose memory will be a monitor to us of those virtues, which may qualify us for being re-uni- VOL. I. 6 62 MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. ted to her society. Though the body mingle with the dust, the spirit, in this case, ' yet spcaketh ;' it invites, and, I trust, enables us to anticipate more effectually on earth our intercourse with the spirits of the just in heaven. Great cause we, no doubt, have to mourn over that dispensation of Providence, which has, in the mean while, removed from the sphere of our con- verse on earth, one, from whose converse we had so invariably derived at once instruction and delight; whose piety was so genuine, that, while never osten- tatiously displayed, it was, as little, in any case dis- guised, whose mental energies communicated such a character and effect to both her piety and her active beneficence, that they often served the purpose of an example to others, when such a purpose was not con- templated by her. Not to mourn over a dispensation of Providence, which has deprived us of such a bless- ing, would be incompatible with the design of Provi- dence in visiting us with such a cause of affliction. But God forbid that we should sorrow as those who have no hope of being re-united in heaven to those who have been dear to them on earth ! God forbid that we should be unwilling in our hearts to conform to the design of Providence, when, by removing from us those who have been the objects of our regard in this world, it would, in some sense, unite earth to heaven, by gradually weaning us from the world, and gradually transferring our hearts to heaven, before we have altogether completed the appointed years of our pilgrimage on earth ! Let a view of our condition, as the heirs of heaven, so elevate our minds, as to make us now join, with one heart, in the language of our MEMOIR OF MRS. HEMANS. 63 Christian triumph