We would not restrict our poets in the choice of their subjects, or the scenes of their story; but when they sing under an American sky, and describe a native landscape, let the description be graphic, as if it had been seen and not imagined. We wish, too, to see the figures and imagery of poetry a little more characteristic, as if drawn from nature and not from books. Of this we have constantly recurring examples in the language of our North American Indians. Our readers will all recollect the last words of Pushmataha, the Choctaw chief, who died at Washington in the year 1824: ‘I shall die, but you will return to your brethren. As you go along the paths, you will see the flowers and hear the birds; but Pushmataha will see them and hear them no more. When you come to your home, they will ask you, where is Pushmataha? and you will say to them, He is no more. They will hear the tidings like the sound of the fall of a mighty oak in the stillness of the wood.’ More attention on the part of our writers to these particulars would give a new and delightful expression to the face of our poetry. But the difficulty is, that instead of coming forward 80 as bold, original thinkers, they have imbibed the degenerate spirit of modern English poetry.”[28] What is meant by this last passage is seen when he goes on to point out that each little village then had “its little Byron, its self-tormenting scoffer at morality, its gloomy misanthropist in song,” and that even Wordsworth, in some respects an antidote to Byron, was as yet “a very unsafe model for imitation;” and he farther points out “how invariably those who have imitated him have fallen into tedious mannerisms.” He ends with a moral, perhaps rather tamely stated: “We hope, however, that ere long some one of our most gifted bards will throw his fetters off, and relying on himself alone, fathom the recesses of his own mind, and bring up rich pearls from the secret depths of thought.”[29]

“The true glory of a nation”—this is his final attitude—“is moral and intellectual preëminence;” thus distinctly foreshadowing the title of his friend Charles Sumner’s later oration, “The True Grandeur of Nations.” American literature had undoubtedly begun to exist before this claim was made, as in the prose of Irving and Cooper, the poetry of Dana and Bryant. But it had awaited the arrival of some one to formulate its claims, and this it found in Longfellow.

CHAPTER VIII
APPOINTMENT AT HARVARD AND SECOND VISIT TO EUROPE

While he was thus occupied with thoughts and studies which proved to be more far-seeing than he knew, the young professor was embarrassed by financial difficulties in which the college found itself; and he began after three years to consider the possibility of a transfer to other scenes, perhaps to some professorship in New York or Virginia.

The following letter, hitherto unpublished, gives us the view taken in the Longfellow house of another project, namely, that of his succeeding to the charge of the then famous Round Hill School at Northampton, about to be abandoned by its projector, Joseph G. Cogswell. The quiet judgment of the young wife thus sums it up in writing to her sister-in-law:—

Sunday afternoon [February, 1834].

... Henry left us Friday noon in the mail for Boston, as George will tell you. I do not like the idea of his going to Northampton at all—although it would be a most beautiful 82 place to reside in. Still I feel sure he would not like the care of a school, and such an extensive establishment as that is too. He heard that Mr. Cogswell was to leave them for Raleigh and wrote him—in answer to which he received a long letter, wishing him much to take the place, &c.; which determined him to go immediately to Northampton. He requires $1600 to be advanced, and it would be incurring a certain expense upon a great uncertainty of gaining more than a living there. I do not think Henry calculated at all for such a situation. If he dislikes so much the care of such a little family as ours, how can he expect to like the multifarious cares of such a large one! He has promised not to decide upon anything till he returns, and I feel so confident that all uninterested persons will dissuade him from it, that I rest quite at ease. I wished him to go to satisfy himself, he was so very sanguine as to the result of it. We expect him home the last of next week. This Northampton business is a profound secret and is not mentioned out of the family!

Another extract from the same correspondent shows us how Longfellow was temporarily influenced at Brunswick, like Lowell afterwards at Cambridge, by the marked hygienic and even ascetic atmosphere of the period; an influence 83 apparently encouraged in both cases by their young wives, yet leaving no permanent trace upon the habits of either poet,—habits always moderate, in both cases, but never in the literal sense abstemious.

Friday evening [April, 1834].

... He has gone to a Temperance Lecture this evening. He intends becoming a member of the Temperance Society; indeed I do not know but he has signed the paper already. He is a good little dear, and I approve of everything (almost smoking) he does. He is becoming an advocate of vegetable diet, Dr. Mussey’s hobby; and Clara and I have nothing but lectures from him and Alexander, upon corsets.

The following extract gives us a glimpse of his literary work:—

Brunswick, Nov. 2, 1834.

Henry comes on famously with Outre Mer. The No. on Spain is finished and that on Italy will be before Thanksgiving. It is by far more interesting than any of the other No’s. Henry thinks himself it is much superior in point of interest and in style. I presume he will have the remaining No’s published together in N. Y. this winter.

In the midst of such literary and household cares he received the following letter:—

Cambridge, December 1, 1834.

Dear Sir,—Professor Ticknor has given notice that it is his intention to resign his office of Smith Professor of Modern Languages in Harvard University, as soon as the Corporation shall have fixed upon a successor.

The duty of nominating to that office devolves upon me; and after great deliberation and inquiry my determination is made to nominate you for that office under circumstances which render your appointment not doubtful,—provided I receive a previous assurance from you of your acceptance of it. To ascertain this is the object of the present letter.

The salary will be fifteen hundred dollars a year. Residence in Cambridge will be required. The duties of the professorship will be of course those which are required from the occupant of a full professorship, and such as the Corporation and the Overseers may appoint. If a relation such as I suggest with this university be acceptable to you, I shall be obliged by an early answer.

Should it be your wish, previously to entering upon the duties of the office, to reside in Europe, at your own expense, a year or eighteen 85 months for the purpose of a more perfect attainment of the German, Mr. Ticknor will retain his office till your return.

Very respectfully, I am
Yours, etc., etc.,

Josiah Quincy.[30]

“Good fortune comes at last and I certainly shall not reject it,” the young Longfellow wrote to his father. “The last paragraph of the letter,” he adds, “though put in the form of a permission, seems to imply a request. I think I shall accept that also.” Some additional correspondence, however, proved necessary, such as follows:—

Hon. Josiah Quincy:

Sir,—Your letter of to-day inclosing the Vote of the President and Fellows of Har^d University in relation to the Professorship of Modⁿ Lang^s has been received, and in expressing anew my desire to meet your wishes fully in the matter before us, I beg leave to defer an official answer until my return from the South, in about three weeks hence.

In the mean time may I take the liberty of calling your attention once more to the subject of our last conversation? I feel it important that I should be regularly appointed before 86 sailing for Europe. Otherwise I present myself as any private individual whatever. But if I go as one of your professors, I carry with me in that very circumstance my best letter of recommendation. It gives me a character—and a greater claim to attention abroad, than I can otherwise take with me. Judge Story is ready to consent to this arrangement—so is Mr. Gray—so is Mr. Ticknor. If you could bring the subject once more before the corporation, I think the objections suggested by you when I saw you this morning will be found to give way before the good results, which I think may be reasonably anticipated from change in your vote where respectfully suggested.

Very respect’y
y^r. Ob^e. Ser^t.

Henry W. Longfellow.[31]

Boston, Jan^y 1, 1834. [Error for 1835.]

Hon. Josiah Quincy:

Sir,—Placing entire confidence in the assurances of the President and Fellows of Harvard University in reference to my election to the Smith Professorship of Modern Languages and Belles Lettres in that institution, which assurances were communicated to me in y^r favor of 1^st January, together with their Vote upon the 87 subject,—I have the honor to inform you, that I shall sail for Europe in the month of April next, and remain there till the summer of 1836.

Very respectfully

Henry W. Longfellow.[32]

Portland, February 3, 1835.

His first book, in a strict sense, published before his departure, was his translation of the “Coplas of Jorge Manrique” (1833), in which were added to the main poem a few translations of sonnets, the whole being prefaced with an article from “The North American Review” on the “Moral and Devotional Poetry of Spain.” It was these works which had attracted the attention of Professor Ticknor, and had led to results so important. The young professor sailed at the time mentioned, accompanied by his wife and two young ladies, her friends.

His first aim was Sweden, but he spent a few weeks in London, where he met, among others, Carlyle. So little has hitherto been recorded of this part of Longfellow’s life or of his early married life in any way, that I am glad to be able to describe it from the original letters of the young wife, which are now in my possession, and are addressed mainly to Mrs. Longfellow, her mother-in-law. She seems to have enjoyed 88 her travelling experiences very thoroughly, and writes in one case, “We are generally taken for French ... and I am always believed to be Henry’s sister. They say to me, ‘What a resemblance between your brother and self!’”

Sunday afternoon, May 31, 1835.

My dear Mother,—I wrote you a very few lines, in great haste, in Henry’s letter to his Father, acknowledging the receipt of your kind letter. I hope that you will write us as often as your many cares will permit, & be assured that even a few lines will always be welcomed with delight by your absent children. We have passed our time very delightfully in London. The only difficulty is—there is so much to be seen & so little time to see it in. We have, however, seen many of the principal points. Last Monday we passed very delightfully at Shirley Park, near the little village of Croydon. The ride is through a very beautiful country. We passed several gipsy encampments, in the most picturesque situations. Shirley Park is a truly delightful place. The house, which is a very fine one, is placed on a beautiful spot, & there are fine views from all sides of it. Mrs. Skinner, the lady of the place, is a very agreeable amiable lady—She took us all over the grounds in her carriage, & was very kind & attentive 89 to us. Her house is thronged with visitors, the great, the fashionable, & the literati all pay their court to her. She is a great admirer of Willis’s, & thinks his writings superior to Irving’s!—On Wednesday we visited the National Gallery, the finest collection of old paintings in the city. We saw while we were there, the Queen pass into the city, attended by the horse-guards in their beautiful uniforms. Five or six carriages passed with a coachman & two footmen to each, lost almost in the quantity of gold lace which covered them. Last of all came her Majesty’s carriage with two coachmen & four footmen in the same magnificent livery. Thursday was the king’s birth day. The drawing room was the most splendid one that had ever been seen—so Willis says. In the eve’g there was a grand illumination. About ten Henry and Mr. Frazer went out to see it. The crowd was so immense, that it was with the greatest difficulty they made their way home. Four women from St. Giles’s armed with large clubs pointed with iron, passed through the crowd striking in all directions. We took a carriage & drove to see the illuminations. It was after eleven & the crowd had nearly dispersed. There were brilliant crowns & a variety of pretty devices formed with coloured lamps & some very fine gas ones. I suspect however there was very 90 little true rejoicing in all this show & splendour. The Queen is very unpopular among the people. Friday morn’g—Willis called. He had been to breakfast with the beautiful Mrs. Wadsworth, & was on his way, to breakfast at 3 in the aft. with the Duchess of St. Albans. Mrs. Wadsworth, from Genesseo, was a Philadelphia lady & has been greatly admired on the continent & here. She returns in a few days to America. Yesterday morning Mr. Barnard a young lawyer from Connecticut called upon me. He arrived but a month before us, & takes much the same route as we do, though a more extensive one. He will be in Stockholm in the course of the summer. Mr. Carlyle of Craigenputtock was soon after announced, & passed an half hour with us much to our delight. He has very unpolished manners, & broad Scottish accent, but such fine language & beautiful thoughts that it is truly delightful to listen to him. Perhaps you have read some of his articles in the Edinburgh Review. He invited us to take tea with him at Chelsea, where they now reside. We were as much charmed with Mrs. C[arlyle] as with her husband. She is a lovely woman with very simple & pleasing manners. She is also very talented & accomplished, & how delightful it is to see such modesty combined with such power to please. On Tuesday we visit Chantrey’s 91 study with them. This morning Mr. Bentham, a nephew of Jeremy’s, called, & invited us to dine with them on Wednesday—We may see the great potentate appear. Henry is petitioning for room to write, & saying that I must retire, but I must tell you my dreams. A few nights since I heard Samuel [Longfellow] preach for Dr. Nichols. Last night I dreamt I was with my father & sisters, telling them of all I had seen. I only went to America to make a call & tell you all we had safely arrived, & was to return immediately. You will give very much love to all for me. They must all write me, & their letters shall be answered as speedily as possible. We leave here the last of this week. I shall leave letters to be sent by the first opportunity. George & Ann must not forget us.

Your ever affectionate

Mary.

The Carlyles are again mentioned in a letter written while crossing the German Ocean.

Steam Ship, German Ocean,
Thursday, June 11 [1835].

... We have some very pleasant passengers. A German lady with her father and little girl. What a strange idea foreigners have of America! This lady who appears very intelligent asked us if America was anything like London!! Then 92 we have a German Prince with huge mustachios; Clara played whist with him last evening! Oh dear! I do not know as I shall be able to speak to you when I return, I see so many lords and ladies! but in reality these lords and ladies are not half as agreeable people as some of Henry’s literary friends. Mr. and Mrs. Carlyle have more genuine worth and talent than half of the nobility in London. Mr. Carlyle’s literary fame is very high, and she is a very talented woman—but they are people after my own heart—not the least pretension about them. Mrs. Carlyle has a pin with Goethe’s head upon it, which that great author sent her himself. She is very proud of it I assure you. They live very retired, not wishing to mix with fashionable society, which they regard in its true light; still they have some friends among the nobility who know how to value them.

Stockholm, August 5, 1835.

My dear Mother,—I hope you have received my letter to you from London ere this. We sent letters home from here July 21st by Capt. Symons directly to Boston—it was as soon as possible after our arrival; among them Henry sent a letter to his father, & I to Mary, Sam & Anne. I was quite delighted to receive a letter from Mary & Sam—hope they will write 93 me often. Since our last letters we have removed our lodgings to “No. 5. Clara Södra Kyko Gatan.” We have more rooms but not as good ones as in the Droteninggatan. We have made some very pleasant acquaintances here. July 15th we dined at Mr. Arfwedson’s—the father of the gentleman who married an American lady. Mr. A—— resides at Liston Hill in the Park—he has a little English cottage, built by Sir Robert Liston, formerly English minister to this court. It is a sweet spot—the Mäler flows almost directly beneath the windows of the cottage—a little flower garden is upon its banks, & a fine grove of trees in the rear of the cottage. Mr. Arfwedson is a fine old man—his wife has been dead several years. The only ladies present were our countrywoman Mrs. A—— & the eldest daughter of Mr. Arfwedson—the wife of Baron S——. She is a very delicate and graceful lady, was dressed very tastefully & altogether unlike the Swedish ladies we had before seen. Mr. A’s second daughter is just married to a brother of her sister’s husband who is also a Baron. They went immediately to Copenhagen, we have not therefore seen her, but have heard much of her great beauty. There were a number of gentlemen present at dinner, several of which were English. The dinner table was by far the prettiest we have 94 seen in Sweden.... The dessert plates were very beautiful, white china—upon each of which was a different flower elegantly painted. After coffee the gentleman proposed a drive to Rosendale, a little palace in the park. It is the favorite spot of king Bernadotte. We first went to the splendid porphyry vase, which stands in the centre of the flower garden back of the palace. The top of this celebrated & immense vase is cut from a single block of porphyry. Sweden is very celebrated for its fine porphyry. The lower rooms of the palace are handsomely furnished, but the upper ones are quite splendid. All the rooms were carpeted with beautiful carpets—the walls were hung with silk damask—each room a different color, with curtains, sofas & chairs to correspond. One room was hung with white damask, & the chairs & sofa were covered with beautiful embroidery—the ground of which was white, wrought by the Queen & her maids of honor. There was a great profusion of this beautiful embroidery—fire screens, ottomans, &c.—The chandeliers, mirrors & candelabras were very elegant. In one room was a portrait of the king, which was very like him. In another that of the Queen—much flattered. She was a daughter of a merchant of Marseilles. There are no bed-chambers in this palace. The king very rarely sleeps out of his palace in town. 95 We returned to Mr. Arfwedson’s & took tea. Mrs. A—— is very accomplished, she speaks nearly all the modern languages. She invited us to dine with them on the next Sabbath.

July 16th. We dined at Mr. Stockoe’s, a partner of Mr. Erskine’s. We met quite a large & pleasant party there. The Stockoe’s are excellent, kind-hearted people. They have paid us every attention. Mrs. S—— sends us presents of fruits & flowers, & all those little attentions which it is so agreeable to receive.—I was quite unwell on Sunday, on account of a very long walk the evening previous. I did not therefore go to young Arfwedson’s. Clara & H—— went & had a very pleasant visit. They met there Baron Stackelberg, who was Swedish minister in America fourteen years. He returned but two years since. He has called upon us several times since, & is a jovial old man with perfectly white hair & whiskers. July 22nd. The Stockoe’s invited us to drive out to Haga with them. We went out at six in the evening. This palace is about two English miles from town. It was built by Gustavus the 3rd, & was his favorite residence. The furniture was very old, but there is one fine room lined with mirrors. In the drawing room is a centre table with a deep top & pots of flowers placed in it. This top was covered entirely with 96 moss, this had a very pretty effect, especially as there were a variety of flowers all in bloom. The table was on castors & could be placed in any position.... We were shown three very small chambers, where Gustavus the 4th was imprisoned after he was dethroned. His queen lived with him there. In another building, a pavilion, were some rooms furnished in more modern style. The Queen sleeps in these rooms when she comes to Haga, [but] the royal family rarely visit this palace. The grounds are very beautiful. We walked round the Park to the famous palace which Gustavus 3d commenced building after his return from Italy. Here he expended two millions, & the foundations were but laid & the stones in readiness for the walls when he was assassinated. The work was then immediately stopped as the people were much opposed to the undertaking. We saw the model of this building which was to have been a very extensive one. A row of columns all around it, to have been built in the Italian style. The model was more like a temple than a palace. We took tea at a little inn in Hagalund & returned home late in the evening—The king has a great number of palaces round Stockholm, there are seven or eight, & as many it is said in every province.

We have a very pleasant little family of our own, & have fine times together. Mr. Hughes 97 says “for one lady it would have been intolerable, for two very unpleasant; but for three quite agreeable.” Henry has been much disappointed not to receive a letter from his father. We are now expecting letters every day from home, & when Wm. Goddard arrives next month we hope to have many—

Please to give my love to Aunt Lucia & say to her I shall write her very soon. Be so kind as to give much love to all the family for me, & accept much love & respect for yourself & Mr Longfellow from

Your ever affectionate

Mary ——

My dearest Mother,—As a little blank space is left, I will fill it with a postscript.—We have just returned—that is to say, day before yesterday,—from a visit to the University of Upsala, and the Iron mines of Dannemora;—of which Mary will give you a description all in good time. We already begin to think of leaving Stockholm—and shall probably take the steamboat to Gothenburg in about three weeks.—For my own part, I should like to go sooner if we could. I am disappointed in Sweden. The climate is too cold and unpleasant. I want a little warm sunshine. Something that I can feel, as well as see. From Gothenburg 98 we shall go to Copenhagen, and after passing a month there, take steamboat to Stettin, and so to Berlin. We shall not return to the North again but pass the next summer in Germany and France.

Much love to all. Very affectionately your Son

H. W. Longfellow

Mrs. Stephen Longfellow,
Care of Hon. Stephen Longfellow,
Portland, Maine,
U. S. of America.

[TO] HON. STEPHEN LONGFELLOW, PORTLAND, MAINE, U. S. OF AMERICA.

Copenhagen, September 21, 1835.

My dear Sir,—Henry has consented that I should copy a few pages of his journal for you; but I could not prevail on him to grant this, till I promised again & again for you, that you would not on any condition, allow it to go out of your house. The children can read it there; & I will ask of you the same favor for my father and my sisters, for I know they will take much interest in it.

If it cheers a lonely winter’s evening, or cheats you of a few melancholy hours, I shall feel most amply repaid for the trouble I have taken.

We have regretted much to hear of your feeble health, but hope that your journey has 99 quite renovated you. I [was] delighted to receive a second letter from Mrs. L[ongfellow], in a p[ackage] of letters which reached us a few days since. She is very kind to write me, & I shall not fail to write her, as often as possible, while absent.

With this you will receive a letter for Aunt Lucia. I shall answer Mrs. L’s letter very soon.

Henry has become quite learned in the Swedish, & can already translate Danish. He is studying Icelandic also, as I presume he has told you. He is in fine health & spirits.

With many wishes for your health & my Mother’s, & with much respect & affection for you both—I am as ever

Your affectionate

Mary ——

[On outside of letter.] September 28. I have written by the same ship that brings you this. H. W. L. Also a letter to George.

[Endorsement.]
Mary P. Longfellow to
S. Longfellow, containing a
Copy of Henry’s Journal
Sept. 21, 1835.[33]

Copenhagen, September 22, 1835.

My dear Aunt Lucia,—Pray do not be alarmed on receiving this letter for fear that you must answer it. I have not hoped such a favor, but am content, however much I should be delighted to hear from you, to write you occasionally without the hopes of an answer, thinking & knowing you would be as happy to receive a letter from me as any of my dear friends. I received a very entertaining letter from Anne a few days since. Henry says “Anne’s letters have some pith to them.” Pray urge her to write us often, & I shall take just as much interest in hearing about her family affairs as if I was in Brunswick.

And so you have made a visit in Boston, & have been upon railroads, to balloon ascensions, theatres & I know not what. After such a quiet life as you have passed for several years, it must be quite a pleasant little incident, & I know that you must have enjoyed your visit much. But, after all, do you not think that the pleasure of travelling is greatest when it has been all passed, & you are seated once more in your quiet home,—& retrace in imagination your wanderings? It must be so—I think—then you remember only what is agreeable, & the thousand little inconveniences, one must suffer in travelling, are forgotten.

101

I cannot tell you how delighted we all are that we are out of Sweden. Henry scolds not a little that a summer in Europe should have been passed there.

You have heard before this, by our letters from Gothenburg, that we were detained there a week, much against our will. We passed the time, however, very pleasantly. H[enry] delivered a letter from my Uncle Robert [Storer] to Mr. Wijk of that place, & he was very attentive & kind to us. On Sunday the 6th of September we dined with him, & had the pleasure of being introduced to his celebrated lady. She appears as his daughter, being more than thirty years younger than her husband. We had heard of her great beauty in America. I cannot say that she is beautiful, but she is extremely pretty with very interesting manners. They have travelled much on the continent & in England. The dinner was much more American than any we had seen in Sweden. In the centre of the table was a high glass dish filled with a musk-melon & surrounded with flowers. The remainder of the dessert was not placed upon the table, but came on after meat, &c., as in our country. After soup, fish & meat, we had a nice baked apple pudding; & after this, the cloth was removed from the nicely polished round table, & the dessert of cake, apples, pears, 102 preserves, nuts & raisins was placed upon it. Captain Condry from Newburyport dined there, a very pleasant and gentlemanly man. Mrs. Wijk urged us to remain to tea, but we left them soon after dinner.

Monday. 7. In the aft’ walked around Gothenburg, a pleasant town, & much preferable as an abiding place to Stockholm, in my opinion. On returning home found Mr. and Mrs. Wijk. She looked sweetly & was dressed elegantly. They called to invite us to pass the morrow with them, at their country seat.—Tuesday. 8. At eleven in the morning, took a carriage to Mr. Wijk’s. A long & tedious ride, one & a quarter Swedish mile from town. We arrived there at one, found Mr. W[ijk] & his lady waiting to receive us. We took a walk round the grounds before dinner. The house built in a very pretty style & the grounds something like an English Park. An English gentleman, a brother-in-law of Mr. Wijk’s dined with us. He has a country seat adjoining. After dinner, we walked to this gentleman’s grounds. They are quite delighted with a fine lake near the house. We then visited the factories, which the owner, a man of great mechanical genius, has erected upon his grounds. We saw all the different stages the flax went through before weaving & lastly the weaving itself. We returned 103 home & took tea with Mrs. Wijk & then bade adieu. Found on our return home Mr. Appleton had arrived from Stockholm. He goes to Copenhagen with us.

Wednesday. 9. At two in the aft’ we left Gothenburg, in a little boat for the steamer station, which is three miles from the town. Mr. Wijk accompanied us to the wharf. When we arrived at the steamer pier—found the boat had not arrived from Christiana, & there we waited three hours for it. We left about 6 in the evening. The steamer crowded. We were obliged to sleep in the gentleman’s cabin, & the cabin was entirely filled with hammocks swung one above another.—Thursday. 10. Arrived in Copenhagen at 2 P.M. Found good accommodations at the Hotel Royal. Monday. 14. Mr. Appleton & Mary G—— left us, for London. Tuesday. 15. In the morning went over the new palace, not yet entirely completed. It is a fine building, the rooms very neat, most of them carpeted. The carpet English, & upon the king’s apartments of the most ordinary & coarsest Kidderminster. The Queen’s were Brussels, but nothing extraordinary. In one large room was the king’s throne—A gilded chair covered with crimson velvet, & his initials worked in gold upon it. The platform, & the steps by which you ascend to it, were also covered with 104 crimson velvet. The window-curtains were superb—of crimson velvet & a gold vine wrought upon the edge of them. The Queen’s apartments were more splendid than the king’s. She had also a room similar to the king’s, with a throne like his & curtains the same. The dancing hall was very fine with seven immense chandeliers in it.—The king and Queen both had their dining halls. There was a most splendid hall for dubbing knights. An immense room, with gallery all around it, supported by pillars which appeared like white marble, but were of some composition. The ceiling was very beautiful, white with raised gilt figures. The chapel was very fine; also the hall of justice, where criminals for high treason, I think, are tried. There is a throne of crimson velvet at one end, & three silver lions, with golden manes, as large as life & in very fierce attitudes are guarding it.

Thursday. 17. In the morning at the museum of “Northern Antiquities.” The collection has been made since 20 years & is the largest in Europe. We were first shown the knives, chisels, arrows, &c., used before any metal was discovered & many—many years before Christianity. They were all of stone. We also saw the first rude urns which were used for the burial of dead bodies. Gold, silver & copper were discovered before iron; when iron was discovered 105 it was for a long time so valuable, that we saw that instruments were made of copper & only pointed with iron. Thus we were shown these instruments from their first rude state till they arrived quite at perfection. We also saw the gold rings & bracelets which the ancients wore, & which they cut off, piece by piece, to give in exchange for clothing or food before the use of money. We saw a beautiful ebony altar piece with gold & silver figures raised upon it. It was intended for a chapel of one of the former kings; but he afterwards altered his plan & erected a large church,—so that it has never been used.

I fear, my dear Aunt, you will find this all very stupid & tedious, & will not thank me much for the copious extracts from my poor little journal. I flatter myself, however, you will take an interest in all that we do & see, so I give you the best descriptions in my power. Copenhagen appears like a different place to us, from what it did when here before. Henry would like to pass the winter here, he is now so charmed with it. We have a much pleasanter situation, than when here before, & coming from Sweden any place would be quite delightful. Indeed it seems now quite like London—the cries remind us of that city & it appears almost as noisy. How different from our first 106 impression of Copenhagen! but then we were direct from London & after that immense and overpowering place everything seems dull and lifeless. We shall probably leave here this week Thursday, & shall take these letters to Hamburg with us, with the hopes of sending them directly to America from there. Henry sends books to the college from here, but it is so uncertain when they go I do not like to leave my letters. How lonely you will be without Sammy this winter; I feel very glad he has entered as Freshman, for we shall have him a year longer with us. Give much love to all from us—Clara is very well and seems very happy. She enjoys travelling very much, & is just as good & excellent a girl as ever—Henry desires very much love to Aunt Lucia—accept much from your ever affectionate

Mary.

To Miss Lucia Wadsworth, Portland, Me.

CHAPTER IX
ILLNESS AND DEATH OF MRS. LONGFELLOW

This series of happy travelling narratives was suddenly interrupted by the following letters, now first printed, to the father of the young wife.

Rotterdam, Dec. 1, 1835.

My dear Sir,—I trust that my last letter to my father has in some measure prepared your mind for the melancholy intelligence which this will bring to you. Our beloved Mary is no more. She expired on Sunday morning, Nov. 29, without pain or suffering, either of body or mind, and with entire resignation to the will of her heavenly Father. Though her sickness was long, yet I could not bring myself to think it dangerous until near its close. Indeed, I did not abandon all hope of her recovery till within a very few hours of her dissolution, and to me the blow was so sudden, that I have hardly yet recovered energy enough to write you the particulars of this solemn and mournful event. When I think, however, upon the goodness and purity of her life, and the holy and peaceful 108 death she died, I feel great consolation in my bereavement, and can say, “Father, thy will be done.”

Knowing the delicate state of Mary’s health, I came all the way from Stockholm with fear and trembling, and with the exception of one day’s ride from Kiel to Hamburg we came the whole distance by water. Unfortunately our passage from Hamburg to Amsterdam in the Steamboat was rather rough, and Mary was quite unwell. On the night of our arrival the circumstance occurred to which I alluded in my last, [the premature birth of a child] and which has had this fatal termination.... In Amsterdam we remained three weeks; and Mary seemed to be quite restored and was anxious to be gone. To avoid a possibility of fatigue we took three days to come to this place—a distance of only forty miles; and on our arrival here Mary was in excellent spirits and to all appearances very well. But alas! the same night she had a relapse which caused extreme debility, with a low fever, and nervous headache. This was on the 23d October. In a day or two she was better, and on the 27th worse again. After this she seemed to recover slowly, and sat up for the first time on the 11th, though only for a short while. This continued for a day or two longer, till she felt well enough to sit up for nearly an hour. And 109 then she was seized with a violent rheumatism, and again took to her bed from which she never more arose.

During all this she was very patient, and generally cheerful, tho’ at times her courage fainted and she thought that she should not recover,—wishing only that she could see her friends at home once more before she died. At such moments she loved to repeat these lines [by Andrews Norton], which seemed to soothe her feelings:—

“Father! I thank thee! may no thought

E’er deem thy chastisements severe.

But may this heart, by sorrow taught,

Calm each wild wish, each idle fear.”

On Sunday, the 22nd, all her pain had left her, and she said she had not felt so well during her sickness. On this day, too, we received a letter from Margaret, which gave her great pleasure, and renovated her spirits very much. But still from day to day she gained no strength. In this situation she continued during the whole week—perfectly calm, cheerful and without any pain. On Friday another letter came from Margaret, and she listened to it with greatest delight. A few minutes afterwards a letter from you and Eliza was brought in, which I reserved for the next day. When I went to her on Saturday morning I found her countenance much 110 changed, and my heart sank within me. Till this moment I had indulged the most sanguine hopes;—but now my fears overmastered them. She was evidently worse, though she felt as well as usual. The day passed without change; and towards evening, as she seemed a little restless and could not sleep, I sat down by her bedside, and read your letter and Eliza’s to her. O, I shall never forget how her eyes and her whole countenance brightened, and with what a heavenly smile she looked up into my face as I read. My own hopes revived again to see that look; but alas! this was the last gleam of the dying lamp. Towards ten o’clock she felt a slight oppression in the chest, with a difficulty of breathing. I sat down by her side and tried to cheer her; and as her respiration became more difficult, she said to me, “Why should I be troubled; If I die God will take me to himself.” And from this moment she was perfectly calm, excepting for a single instant, when she exclaimed, “O, my dear Father; how he will mourn for me.” A short time afterwards she thanked Clara for her kindness, and clasping her arms affectionately round my neck, kissed me, and said, “Dear Henry, do not forget me!” and after this, “Tell my dear friends at home that I thought of them at the last hour.” I then read to her from the Church Litany the prayers 111 for the sick and dying; and as the nurse spoke of sending for Dr. Bosworth, the Episcopal clergyman, Mary said she should like to see him, and I accordingly sent. He came about one o’clock, but at this time Mary became apparently insensible to what was around her; and at half-past one she ceased to breathe.

Thus all the hopes I had so fondly cherished of returning home with my dear Mary in happiness and renovated health have in the providence of God ended in disappointment and sorrow unspeakable. All that I have left to me in my affliction is the memory of her goodness, her gentleness, her affection for me—unchangeable in life and in death—and the hope of meeting her again hereafter, where there shall be no more sickness, nor sorrow, nor suffering, nor death. I feel, too, that she must be infinitely, oh, infinitely happier now than when with us on earth, and I say to myself,—

“Peace! peace! she is not dead, she does not sleep!

She has awakened from the dream of life.”

With my most affectionate remembrance to Eliza and Margaret, and my warmest sympathies with you all, very truly yours,

Henry W. Longfellow.

On the 2d of December the young husband left Rotterdam for Heidelberg. There he spent 112 the winter, like Paul Flemming of “Hyperion,” and buried himself in “old dusty books.” He met many men who interested him, Schlosser, Gervinus, and Mittermaier, and also Bryant, the poet, from his own country, whom he saw for the first time. An added sorrow came to him in the death of his brother-in-law and dearest friend, George W. Pierce, “He the young and strong,” as he afterwards wrote in his “Footsteps of Angels;” but in accordance with the advice of his friend Ticknor he absorbed himself in intellectual labor, taking the direction of a careful study of German literature. This he traced from its foundations down to Jean Paul Richter, who was for him, as for many other Americans of the same period, its high-water mark, even to the exclusion of Goethe. It will be remembered that Longfellow’s friend, Professor Felton, translated not long after, and very likely with Longfellow’s aid or counsel, Menzel’s “History of German Literature,” in which Goethe is made quite a secondary figure.

It is also to be noticed that George Bancroft, one of the half dozen men in America who had studied at a German University, wrote about the same time a violent attack on Goethe in the Boston “Christian Examiner,” in which he pronounced him far inferior to Voltaire, “not in genius and industry only, but still more in morality.” 113 He says of him farther, “He imitates, he reproduces, he does not create and he does not build up.... His chances at popularity are diminishing. Twaddle will not pass long for wisdom. The active spirit of movement and progress finds in his works little that attracts sympathy.”[34] It is to be remembered in the same connection that Longfellow, in 1837, wrote to his friend, George W. Greene, of “Jean Paul Richter, the most magnificent of the German prose writers,”[35] and it was chiefly on Richter that his prose style was formed.

In June he left Heidelberg for the Tyrol and Switzerland, where the scene of “Hyperion” was laid. He called it “quite a sad and lonely journey,” but it afterwards led to results both in his personal and literary career. He sailed for home in October and established himself in Cambridge in December, 1836. The following letter to his wife’s sister was written after his return.

Cambridge, Sunday evening.

My Dear Eliza,—By tomorrow’s steamboat I shall send you two trunks, containing the clothes which once belonged to your sister. What I have suffered in getting them ready to send to you, I cannot describe. It is not necessary, 114 that I should. Cheerful as I may have seemed to you at times, there are other times, when it seems to me that my heart would break. The world considers grief unmanly, and is suspicious of that sorrow, which is expressed by words and outward signs. Hence we strive to be gay and put a cheerful courage on, when our souls are very sad. But there are hours, when the world is shut out, and we can no longer hear the voices, that cheer and encourage us. To me such hours come daily. I was so happy with my dear Mary, that it is very hard to be alone. The sympathies of friendship are doubtless something—but after all how little, how unsatisfying they are to one who has been so loved as I have been! This is a selfish sorrow, I know: but neither reason nor reflection can still it. Affliction makes us childish. A grieved and wounded heart is hard to be persuaded. We do not wish to have our sorrow lessened. There are wounds, which are never entirely healed. A thousand associations call up the past, with all its gloom and shadow. Often a mere look or sound—a voice—the odor of a flower—the merest trifle is enough to awaken within me deep and unutterable emotions. Hardly a day passes, that some face, or familiar object, or some passage in the book I am reading does not call up the image of my beloved 115 wife so vividly, that I pause and burst into tears,—and sometimes cannot rally again for hours.

And yet, my dear Eliza, in a few days, and we shall all be gone, and others sorrowing and rejoicing as we now do, will have taken our places: and we shall say, how childish it was for us to mourn for things so transitory. There may be some consolation in this; but we are nevertheless children. Our feelings overcome us.

Farewell. Give my kind regards to all, and believe me most truly and affectionately, your friend,

Henry W. Longfellow.[36]