WordsworthMyers, F. W. H. (Frederic William Henry)
General
Wordsworth
Myers, F. W. H. (Frederic William Henry)
Poets, English -- 19th century -- Biography; Wordsworth, William, 1770-1850
"The reception given me by the Queen at her ball was most gracious.
Mrs. Everett, the wife of your Minister, among many others, was a
witness to it, without knowing who I was. It moved her to the
shedding of tears. This effect was in part produced, I suppose, by
American habits of feeling, as pertaining to a republican government.
To see a grey-haired man of seventy-five years of age, kneeling down
in a large assembly to kiss the hand of a young woman, is a sight
for which institutions essentially democratic do not prepare a
spectator of either sex, and must naturally place the opinions upon
which a republic is founded, and the sentiments which support it, in
strong contrast with a government based and upheld as ours is."
In the same letter the poet introduces an ominous allusion to the
state of his daughter's health. Dora, his only daughter who survived
childhood, was the darling of Wordsworth's age. In her wayward
gaiety and bright intelligence there was much to remind him of his
sister's youth; and his clinging nature wound itself round this new
Dora as tenderly as it had ever done round her who was now only the
object of loving compassion and care. In 1841 Dora Wordsworth
married Mr. Quillinan, an ex-officer of the Guards, and a man of
great literary taste and some original power. In 1821 he had settled
for a time in the vale of Rydal, mainly for the sake of Wordsworth's
society; and ever since then he had been an intimate and valued
friend. He had been married before, but his wife died in 1822,
leaving him two daughters, one of whom was named from the murmuring
Rotha, and was god-child of the poet. Shortly after marriage, Dora
Quillinan's health began to fail. In 1845 the Quillinans went to
Oporto in search of health, and returned in 1846, in the trust that
it was regained. But in July 1847 Dora Quillinan died at Rydal,
and left her father to mourn for his few remaining years his
"immeasurable loss."
The depth and duration of Wordsworth's grief in such bereavements as
fell to his lot, was such as to make his friends thankful that his
life had on the whole been guided through ways of so profound a peace.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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