Reminiscences of Samuel Taylor Coleridge and Robert Southey

J >> Joseph Cottle >> Reminiscences of Samuel Taylor Coleridge and Robert Southey

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If I have written petulantly, forgive me. God knows I am sore all over.
God bless you, and believe me that, setting gratitude aside, I love and
esteem you, and have your interest at heart full as much as my own.

S. T. Coleridge."

At the receipt of this painful letter, which made me smile and sigh at
the same moment, my first care was to send the young and desponding Bard
some of the precious metal, to cheer his drooping spirits; to inform him
of his mistake; and to renew my invitation; which was accepted, and at
this interview he was as cheerful as ever. He saw no difference in my
countenance, and I perceived none in his. The "thick cloud" and the
"thorn" had completely passed away, whilst his brilliant conversation
charmed and edified the friend for whose sake he had been invited.

At length, Mr. Coleridge's volume of poems was completed. On the blank
leaf of one of the copies, he asked for a pen, and wrote the following:

"Dear Cottle,

On the blank leaf of my poems, I can most appropriately write my
acknowledgments to you, for your too disinterested conduct in the
purchase of them. Indeed, if ever they should acquire a name and
character, it might be truly said, the world owed them to you. Had it not
been for you, none perhaps of them would have been published, and some
not written.

Your, obliged and affectionate friend,

S. T. Coleridge.

Bristol, April 15, 1796."

The particulars respecting the publication of Mr. Coleridge's volume of
Poems have been continued unbroken, to the exclusion of some antecedent
circumstances, which will now be noticed.

If it were my object to give a fictitious, and not a real character; to
remove, scrupulously, all protuberances that interfered with the polish,
I might withhold the following letter, which merely shows the solicitude
with which Mr. C. at this time, regarded small profits. His purse, soon
after his return to Bristol, being rather low, with the demands on it
increasing, he devised an ingenious, and very innocent plan for
replenishing it, in a small way, as will thus appear.

"My ever dear Cottle,

Since I last conversed with you on the subject, I have been thinking over
again the plan I suggested to you, concerning the application of Count
Rumford's plan to the city of Bristol. I have arranged in my mind the
manner, and matter of the Pamphlet, which would be three sheets, and
might be priced at one shilling.

'Considerations
Addressed to the Inhabitants of Bristol,
on a subject of importance,
(unconnected with Politics.)
BY S. T. C.'

Now I have by me the history of Birmingham, and the history of
Manchester. By observing the names, revenues, and expenditures of their
different charities, I could easily alter the calculations of the
"Bristol Address," and, at a trifling expense, and a few variations, the
same work might be sent to Manchester and Birmingham. "Considerations
addressed to the inhabitants of Birmingham." &c. I could so order it,
that by writing to a particular friend, at both places, the pamphlet
should be thought to have been written _at_ each place, as it certainly
would be _for_ each place. I think therefore 750 might be printed in all.
Now will you undertake this? either to print it and divide the profits,
or (which indeed I should prefer) would you give me three guineas, for
the copy-right? I would give you the first sheet on Thursday, the second
on the Monday following, the third on the Thursday following. To each
pamphlet I would annex the alterations to be made, when the press was
stopped at 250.[14]

God love you!

S. T. C."

Mr. Coleridge used occasionally to regret, with even pungency of feeling,
that he had no relation in the world, to whom, in a time of extremity, he
could apply "for a little assistance." He appeared like a being dropped
from the clouds, without tie or connection on earth; and during the years
in which I knew him, he never once visited any one of his relations, nor
exchanged a letter with them. It used to fill myself and others with
concern and astonishment, that such a man should, apparently, be
abandoned. On some occasions I urged him to break through all
impediments, and go and visit his friends at Ottery; this his high spirit
could not brook. I then pressed him to dedicate his Poems to one of his
relatives, his brother George, of whom he occasionally spoke with
peculiar kindness. He was silent; but some time after, he said in a
letter, "You, I am sure will be glad to learn, that I shall follow your
advice."

In the poem which thus arose, what can be more touching than these lines
in his dedication to his brother? (Second edition.)

"To me the Eternal Wisdom hath dispensed
A different fortune, and more different mind--
Me from the spot where first I sprang to light
Too soon transplanted, ere my soul had fixed
Its first domestic loves; and hence through life
Chasing chance--started friendships. A brief while,
Some have preserved me from life's pelting ills."

In certain features of their character, there was a strong resemblance
between Chatterton and S. T. Coleridge, with a reverse in some points,
for Chatterton was loved and cherished by his family, but neglected by
the world. In the agony of mind which Mr. C. sometimes manifested on this
subject, I have wished to forget those four tender lines in his Monody on
Chatterton.

"Poor Chatterton! farewell! Of darkest hues,
This chaplet cast I on thy unshaped tomb:
But dare no longer on the sad theme muse,
Lest kindred woes persuade a kindred doom!"

Mr. C. would not have felt so much, if his own natural and unshaken
affections had been less ardent.

Before I enter on an important incident in Mr. Coleridge's Bristol life,
I must previously observe, that his mind was in a singular degree
distinguished for the habit of projecting. New projects and plans, at
this time, followed each other in rapid succession, and while the
vividness of the impression lasted, the very completion could scarcely
have afforded more satisfaction than the vague design. To project, with
him, was commonly sufficient. The execution, of so much consequence in
the estimation of others, with him was a secondary point. I remember him
once to have read to me, from his pocket book; a list of eighteen
different works which he had resolved to write, and several of them in
quarto, not one of which he ever effected. At the top of the list
appeared the word "Pantisocracy! 4to." Each of these works, he could have
talked, (for he often poured forth as much as half an 8vo. volume in a
single evening, and that in language sufficiently pure and connected to
admit of publication) but talking merely benefits the few, to the
exclusion of the many. The work that apparently advanced the nearest to
completion, was "Translations of the modern Latin Poets;" two vols. 8vo.
This work, which no man could better have accomplished than himself, he
so far proceeded in, as to allow of the Proposals being issued. It was to
be published by subscription, and he brought with him from Cambridge a
very respectable list of university subscribers. His excuses for not
showing any part of the work, justified the suspicion that he had not
advanced in it further than these said "Proposals."

Another prominent feature in Mr. Coleridge's mind, was procrastination.
It is not to be supposed that he ever made a promise or entered on an
engagement without intending to fulfil it, but none who knew him could
deny that he wanted much of that steady, persevering determination which
is the precursor of success, and the parent of all great actions. His
strongest intentions were feebly supported after the first paroxysms of
resolve, so that any judicious friend would strenuously have dissuaded
him from an undertaking that involved a race with time. Mr. Coleridge,
however, differently regarded his mental constitution, and projected at
this time a periodical miscellany, called "The Watchman."

When the thought of this magazine first suggested itself to his mind, he
convened his chief friends one evening at the Rummer Tavern, to determine
on the size, price, and time of publishing, with all other preliminaries,
essential to the launching this first-rate vessel on the mighty deep.
Having heard of the circumstance the next day, I rather wondered at not
having also been requested to attend, and while ruminating on the
subject, I received from Mr. C. the following communication.

"My dear friend,

I am fearful that you felt hurt at my not mentioning to you the proposed
'Watchman,' and from my not requesting you to attend the meeting. My dear
friend, my reasons were these. All who met were expected to become
subscribers to a fund; I knew there would be enough without you, and I
knew, and felt, how much money had been drawn from you lately.

God Almighty love you!

S. T. C."

In a few days the following prospectus of the new work was circulated far
and near.

"To supply at once the places of a Review, Newspaper, and Annual
Register.

On Tuesday, the 1st of March, 1796, will be published, No. 1, price
fourpence, of a Miscellany, to be continued every eighth day, under
the name of

THE WATCHMAN,
BY SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE,

This Miscellany will be comprised in two sheets, or thirty-two pages,
closely printed in 8vo. the type, long primer.

ITS CONTENTS.

1st. A History of the Domestic and Foreign Policy of the preceding
days.

2nd. The Speeches in both Houses of Parliament, and during the
recess. Select Parliamentary Speeches, from the commencement of the
reign of Charles the First, to the present Aera, with Notes,
Historical and Biographical.

3rd. Original Essays and Poetry.

4th. Review of interesting and important Publications.

ITS ADVANTAGES.

FIRST. There being no Advertisements, a greater quantity of Original
matter will be given, and the Speeches in Parliament will be less
abridged.

SECOND. From its form, it may be bound up at the end of the year, and
become an Annual Register.

THIRD. This last circumstance may induce men of letters to prefer
this miscellany to more perishable publications as the vehicle of
their effusions.

FOURTH. Whenever the Ministerial and Opposition Prints differ in
their accounts of occurrences, &c. such difference will always be
faithfully stated."

Of all men, Mr. Coleridge was the least qualified to display periodical
industry. Many of his cooler friends entertained from the beginning no
sanguine expectations of success, but now that the experiment was fairly
to be tried, they united with him in making every exertion to secure it.

As a magazine it was worth nothing without purchasers. Bristol was the
strong-hold, where about two hundred and fifty subscribers were obtained
by myself, and one hundred and twenty by Mr. Reed. These were
insufficient. What was to be done? A bold measure was determined upon.
Mr. Coleridge, conceiving that his means of subsistence depended upon the
success of this undertaking, armed himself with unwonted resolution, and
expressed his determination to travel over half England and take the
posse comitatus by storm.

In conformity with such resolution, he obtained letters of introduction
to influential men in the respective towns he meant to visit, and, like a
shrewd calculator, determined to add the parson's avocation to that of
the political pamphleteer. The beginning of Jan. 1796, Mr. Coleridge,
laden with recommendatory epistles, and rich in hope, set out on his
eventful journey, and visited in succession, Worcester, Birmingham,
Nottingham, Lichfield, Derby, Manchester, Sheffield, Liverpool, &c. and
as a crowning achievement, at the last, paid his respects to the great
metropolis; in all which places, by bills, prospectuses, advertisements,
and other expedients, the reading public were duly apprised of the "NEW
REVIEW, NEWSPAPER, and ANNUAL REGISTER," about to be published.

The good people, in all the towns through which Mr. Coleridge passed,
were electrified by his extraordinary eloquence. At this time, and during
the whole of his residence in Bristol, there was, in the strict sense,
little of the true, interchangeable conversation in Mr. C. On almost
every subject on which he essayed to speak, he made an impassioned
harangue of a quarter, or half an hour; so that inveterate talkers, while
Mr. Coleridge was on the wing, generally suspended their own flight, and
felt it almost a profanation to interrupt so impressive and mellifluous a
speaker. This singular, if not happy peculiarity, occasioned even Madame
de Stael to remark of Mr. C. that "He was rich in a Monologue, but poor
in a Dialogue."

From the brilliant volubility before noticed, admiration and astonishment
followed Mr. C. like a shadow, through the whole course of his
peregrinations. This new "Review, Newspaper, and Annual Register," was
largely patronized; for who would not give fourpence every eighth day, to
be furnished, by so competent a man as Mr. Coleridge, with this
quintessence, this concentration of all that was valuable, in Politics,
Criticism, and Literature; enriched in addition, with Poetry of the first
waters, luminous Essays, and other effusions of men of letters? So choice
a morceau was the very thing that every body wanted; and, in the course
of his journey, subscriptions poured in to the extent of one thousand;
and Mr. C. on his return, after what might be called a triumph,
discovered the elasticity of his spirit; smiling at past depressions, and
now, on solid ground, anticipating ease, wealth, and fame.

The first of March arrived. The "Watchman" was published. Although
deprived of the pleasure of contributing to Mr. Coleridge's fund, I
determined to assist him in other ways, and that far more effectually. On
the publication of the first Number, besides my trouble in sending round
to so many subscribers,--with all the intense earnestness attending the
transaction of the most weighty concerns, it occupied Mr. Coleridge and
myself four full hours to arrange, reckon, (each pile being counted by
Mr. C. after myself, to be quite satisfied that there was no extra 3-1/2
d. one slipped in unawares,) pack up, and write invoices and letters for
the London and country customers, all expressed thus, in the true
mercantile style:

Bristol, March 1st, 1796.

Mr. Pritchard, (Derby)

Dr. to Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

To 73 No. 1 of the Watchman ... 3-1/2 d. ... L1 1 3-1/2

This routine was repeated with every fresh number. My part was zealously
and cheerfully discharged, with the encouraging hope that it would
essentially serve my anxious and valued friend. But all would not do!

A feeling of disappointment prevailed early and pretty generally, amongst
the subscribers. The Prospectus promised too much. In the Review
department, no one article appeared embodying any high order of talent.
The Newspaper section pleased no one, from the confined limits to which
the editor was restricted, independently of which, nearly all the
subscribers had seen the Debates in their length, through other mediums;
and yet this profitless part of the work gave most trouble to the
compiler. Its dulness, I know, fretted Mr. Coleridge exceedingly.[15]

The theory of publishing was delightful; but the exemplification--the
practice, proved, alas! teasing, if not tormenting. One pitiful
subscriber of fourpence, every eighth day, thought his boys did not
improve much under it. Another expected more from his "Annual Register!"
Another wanted more Reviews! Another, more Politics! and those a little
sharper. As the work proceeded, joys decreased, and perplexities
multiplied! added to which, subscribers rapidly fell off, debts were
accumulated and unpaid, till, at the Tenth Number, the Watchman at the
helm cried "Breakers" and the vessel stranded!--It being formally
announced, that "The work did not pay its expenses!"

The "Address to the readers of the Watchman," in the last page, was the
following:

"This is the last Number of the Watchman.--Henceforward I shall cease
to cry the state of the Political atmosphere. While I express my
gratitude to those friends who exerted themselves so liberally in the
establishment of this Miscellany, I may reasonably be expected to
assign some reason for relinquishing it thus abruptly. The reason is
short and satisfactory.--The work does not pay its expences. Part of
my subscribers have relinquished it, because it did not contain
sufficient original composition; and a still larger number, because
it contained too much. Those who took it in as a mere journal of
weekly events, must have been unacquainted with 'FLOWER'S CAMBRIDGE
INTELLIGENCER;' a Newspaper, the style and composition of which would
claim distinguished praise, even among the productions of literary
leisure; while it breathes everywhere the severest morality; fighting
fearlessly the good fight against tyranny, yet never unfaithful to
that religion, whose service is perfect freedom. Those, on the other
hand, who expected from it much and varied original composition, have
naturally relinquished it in favour of the 'NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE;' a
work which has almost monopolized the talent of the country, and with
which I should have continued a course of literary rivalship, with as
much success as might be expected to attend a young recruit, who
should oppose himself to a phalanx of disciplined warriors. Long may
it continue to deserve the support of the patriot and the
philanthropist; and while it teaches its readers NATIONAL LIBERTY,
prepare them for the enjoyment of it; strengthening the intellect by
SCIENCE, and softening our affections by the GRACES! To return to
myself. I have endeavoured to do well: and it must be attributed to
defect of ability, not of inclination or effort, if the words of the
Prophet be altogether applicable to me.

"O, Watchman! thou hast watched in vain."

Many readers will feel a concern in the arrangements and perplexities of
Mr. Coleridge at the time of publishing his "Watchman;" for he had a more
vital interest involved in the success of that work than he had,
individually, in the rise and fall of empires. When he returned from his
northern journey laden with subscribers, and with hope ripened into
confidence, all that had yet been done was the mere scaffolding; the
building was now to be erected. Soon after this time I received from Mr.
Coleridge the following letter.

"1796.

My ever dear Cottle,

I will wait on you this evening at 9 o'clock, till which hour I am on
"Watch." Your Wednesday's invitation I of course accept, but I am rather
sorry that you should add this expense to former liberalities.

Two editions of my Poems would barely repay you. Is it not possible to
get twenty-five, or thirty of the Poems ready by to-morrow, as Parsons,
of Paternoster Row, has written to me pressingly about them. 'People are
perpetually asking after them.' All admire the Poetry in the 'Watchman;'
he says, I can send them with one hundred "of the First Number," which he
has written for. I think if you were to send half a dozen 'Joans of Arc,'
[4to. L1. 1. 0] on sale or return, it would not be amiss. To all the
places in the North, we will send my 'Poems,' my 'Conciones,' and the
'Joans of Arc,' together, per waggon. You shall pay the carriage for the
London and the Birmingham parcels; I for the Sheffield, Derby,
Nottingham, Manchester, and Liverpool.

With regard to the Poems I mean to give away, I wish to make it a common
interest; that is, I will give away a sheet full of Sonnets. One to Mrs.
Barbauld; one to Wakefield; one to Dr. Beddoes: one to Wrangham, (a
College acquaintance of mine, an admirer of me, and a pitier of my
principles!) one to George Augustus Pollen, Esq. one to C. Lamb; one to
Wordsworth; one to my brother G. and one to Dr. Parr. These Sonnets I
mean to write on the blank leaf, respectively, of each copy.[16]

Concerning the paper for the 'Watchman,' I was vexed to hear your
proposal of trusting it to Biggs, who, if he undertook it at all, would
have a profit, which heaven knows, I cannot afford. My plan was, either
that you should write to your paper-maker, saying that you had
recommended him to me, and ordering for me twenty or forty reams, at a
half year's credit; or else, in your own name; in which case I would
transfer to you, Reed's[17] weekly account, amounting to 120 3-1/2 d's,
(or 35 shillings) and the Birmingham monthly account, amounting to L14. a
month.

God bless you,

and S. T. Coleridge."

This letter requires a few explanations. In recommending that Biggs, the
printer, should choose the paper, it was not designed for him to provide
it, which, had he been so requested, he would not have done, but merely
to select one, out of different samples to be submitted to him, as that
which he, as a printer, thought the best. This was explained to Mr. C. It
will be perceived, that Mr. Coleridge's two proposals were virtually one:
as, if I ordered the paper for myself or for another, the responsibility
would rest with me. The plain fact is, I purchased the whole of the paper
for the "Watchman," allowing Mr. C. to have it at prime cost, and
receiving small sums from him occasionally, in liquidation. I became
responsible, also, to Mr. B. for printing the work, by which means I
reduced the price per sheet, as a bookseller, (1000) from fifty shillings
to thirty five shillings. Mr. C. paid me for the paper in fractions, as
he found it convenient, but from the falling off of his own receipts, I
never received the whole. It was a losing concern altogether, and I was
willing to bear, uncomplaining, my proportion of the loss. There is some
difference between this statement, and that of Mr. Coleridge in his
"Biographia Literaria."[18] A defect of memory must have existed, arising
out of the lapse of twenty two years; but my notices, made at that time,
did not admit of mistake.

My loss was also augmented from another cause. Mr. C. states in the above
work, that his London publisher never paid him "one farthing," but "set
him at defiance." I also was more than his equal companion in this
misfortune. The thirty copies of Mr. C.'s poems, and the six "Joans of
Arc" (referred to in the preceding letter) found a ready sale, by this
said "indefatigable London publisher," and large and fresh orders were
received, so that Mr. Coleridge and myself participated in two very
opposite feelings, the one of exultation that our publications had found
_so good a sale_; and the other of _depression_, that the time of
_payment_ never arrived!

All the copies also, of Mr. C.'s Poems, and the "Joan's of Arc," which
were sent to the North, so far as I am concerned, shared the same fate. I
do not know that they were ever paid for. If they were, in combination
with other things, it was my wish that the entanglement should never be
unravelled, for who could take from Mr. C. any portion of his slender
remittances.

The most amusing appendage to this unfortunate "Miscellany," will now be
presented to the reader, in the seven following letters of Mr. Coleridge,
addressed to his friend Mr. Josiah Wade, and written in the progress of
his journey to collect subscribers for the "Watchman."

"Worcester, Jan. 1796.

My dear Wade,

We were five in number, and twenty-five, in quantity. The moment I
entered the coach, I stumbled on a huge projection, which might be called
a belly, with the same propriety that you might name Mount Atlas a
mole-hill. Heavens! that a man should be unconscionable enough to enter a
stage coach, who would want elbow room if he were walking on Salisbury
Plain!

This said citizen was a most violent aristocrat, but a pleasant humourous
fellow in other respects, and remarkably well-informed in agricultural
science; so that the time passed pleasantly enough. We arrived at
Worcester at half-past two: I of course dined at the inn, where I met Mr.
Stevens. After dinner I christianized myself; that is, washed and
changed, and marched in finery and cleanliness to High-Street. With
regard to business, there is no chance of doing any thing at Worcester.
The aristocrats are so numerous, and the influence of the clergy so
extensive, that Mr. Barr thinks no bookseller will venture to publish the
'Watchman.'

P.S. I hope and trust that the young citizeness is well, and also Mrs.
Wade. Give my love to the latter, and a kiss for me to little Miss
Bratinella.

S. T. Coleridge."

"Birmingham, Jan. 1796.

My dear friend,

... My exertions have been incessant, for in whatever company I go, I am
obliged to be the figurante of the circle. Yesterday I preached twice,
and, indeed, performed the whole service, morning and afternoon. There
were about fourteen hundred persons present, and my sermons (great part
extempore) were _preciously peppered with Politics_. I have here, at
least, double the number of subscribers, I had expected...."

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