A History of English Romanticism in the Nineteenth Century | Page 7

as between the two poets, the advantage
in depth of feeling is, as usual, with Wordsworth. Both render, with
perhaps equal power, though in characteristically different ways, the
impression of the austere and desolate grandeur of the mountain
scenery. But the thought to which Wordsworth leads up is the
mysterious divineness of instinct
". . . that strength of feeling, great Above all human estimate:"--
while Scott conducts his story to the reflection that Nature has given
the dead man a more stately funeral than the Church could have given,
a comparison seemingly dragged in for the sake of a stanzaful of his
favourite Gothic imagery.
"When a Prince to the fate of the Peasant has yielded, The tapestry
waves dark round the dim-lighted hall; With 'scutcheons of silver the
coffin is shielded, And pages stand mute by the canopied pall: Through
the courts at deep midnight the torches are gleaming, In the proudly
arched chapel the banners are beaming, Far adown the long aisle sacred
music is streaming, Lamenting a chief of the people should fall."
Wordsworth and Landor, who seldom agreed, agreed that Scott's most
imaginative line was the verse in "Helvellyn":
"When the wind waved his garment how oft didst thou start!"

In several of his poems Wordsworth handled legendary subjects, and it
is most instructive here to notice his avoidance of the romantic note,
and to imagine how Scott would have managed the same material. In
the prefatory note to "The White Doe of Rylstone," Wordsworth
himself pointed out the difference. "The subject being taken from
feudal times has led to its being compared to some of Sir Walter Scott's
poems that belong to the same age and state of society. The comparison
is inconsiderate. Sir Walter pursued the customary and very natural
course of conducting an action, presenting various turns of fortune, to
some outstanding point on which the mind might rest as a termination
or catastrophe. The course I attempted to pursue is entirely different.
Everything that is attempted by the principal personages in 'The White
Doe' fails, so far as its object is external and substantial. So far as it is
moral and spiritual it succeeds."
This poem is founded upon "The Rising in the North," a ballad given in
the "Reliques," which recounts the insurrection of the Earls of
Northumberland and Westmoreland against Elizabeth in 1569. Richard
Norton of Rylstone, with seven stalwart sons, joined in the rising,
carrying a banner embroidered with a red cross and the five wounds of
Christ. The story bristled with opportunities for the display of feudal
pomp, and it is obvious upon what points in the action Scott would
have laid the emphasis; the muster of the tenantry of the great northern
Catholic houses of Percy and Neville; the high mass celebrated by the
insurgents in Durham Cathedral; the march of the Nortons to
Brancepeth; the eleven days' siege of Barden Tower; the capture and
execution of Marmaduke and Ambrose; and--by way of episode--the
Battle of Neville's Cross in 1346.[19] But in conformity to the principle
announced in the preface to the "Lyrical Ballads"--that the feeling
should give importance to the incidents and situation, not the incidents
and situation to the feeling--Wordsworth treats all this outward action
as merely preparatory to the true purpose of his poem, a study of the
discipline of sorrow, of ruin and bereavement patiently endured by the
Lady Emily, the only daughter and survivor of the Norton house.
"Action is transitory--a step, a blow. . . . Suffering is permanent,
obscure and dark, And has the nature of infinity. Yet through that
darkness (infinite though it seem And irremoveable) gracious openings
lie. . . . Even to the fountain-head of peace divine."

With the story of the Nortons the poet connects a local tradition which
he found in Whitaker's "History of the Deanery of Craven"; of a white
doe which haunted the churchyard of Bolton Priory. Between this
gentle creature and the forlorn Lady of Rylstone he establishes the
mysterious and soothing sympathy which he was always fond of
imagining between the soul of man and the things of nature.[20]
Or take again the "Song at the Feast of Brougham Castle," an incident
in the Wars of the Roses. Lord Clifford, who had been hidden away in
infancy from the vengeance of the Yorkists and reared as a shepherd, is
restored to the estates and honours of his ancestors. High in the festal
hall the impassioned minstrel strikes his harp and sings the triumph of
Lancaster, urging the shepherd lord to emulate the warlike prowess of
his forefathers.
"Armour rusting in his halls On the blood of Clifford calls; 'Quell the
Scot,' exclaims the Lance-- Bear me to the heart of France Is the
longing of the Shield."
Thus far the minstrel, and