The Poetry of John Greenleaf Whittier

A Reader's Edition

John Greenleaf Whittier, W. F. Jolliff

• Publisher: Friends United Press
• Year: 2000
• eBook ISBN: 9781956149111
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: American Poetry
• Index: Literature

IV.
Crafting the Past

"Skipper Ireson's Ride"
and Other Stories

In addition to many poems of personal history, Whittier also excelled at casting the narratives of New England's history into verse romance. Given the hostilities of his vocation—as editor, lobbyist, and prophet-at-large—it must have been a relief for the poet to dwell at times on the past. From his boyhood, he loved the old tales of his region, the legends, the superstitions, even the real-life events as they began to turn the subtle shades of myth. So historical subjects were not only some of his first writings, but, during the maturity of his career, some of his most accomplished.

But here is a predicament: these long narratives are the most difficult kind of poetry for many contemporary readers to embrace. Human desires for excitement and adventure have not changed, but today readers seldom follow those particular desires down the trail of narrative verse. And why should they? Multi-billion dollar conglomerates compete to gratify the need for story with popular songs, television programs, and easy novels, so that there is hardly space left for what was once an extremely popular form.

Be that as it may, in his historical romances Whittier exercised not only some of his greatest craft, but demonstrated as well some of his most weighty interpersonal insight and religious understanding. Like all good literature, his best poems not only portray a particular event but reveal something about human nature as well. "How the Women Went From Dover" is as interesting for what it tells us about one brave citizen who met the priest "as man meets man" as it is for the adventure itself, and the women who accompany "Skipper Ireson's Ride" are as intriguing for what they don't do to the heartless captain—and why—as for what they do.

In the same way, it is the poet's psychological insight that rewards our reading of "The New Wife and the Old." Whittier was a master at spinning stories of straw into verses of gold, making romances perfectly good enough for the newspapers and popular magazines. But creating real poetry from legend was an achievement more rare. In this poem, he manages not simply to cast the events into meter and rhyme, but subtly to imply psychological truths about the relationships. One way or another, the ghost returns, the dead wife retrieves her ring, and the new wife is comforted. But then, the grievance of the ghost is not with her. Whittier perfects his art by suggesting the deeper pressures of the situation: for a moment, a window is opened on the brutality of the first marriage. The man whose strength is such a comfort to his new wife is revealed in all his weakness and former cruelty; he is haunted by one for whom "her early grave / Was as freedom to the slave."

The New Wife and the Old

The following ballad is founded upon one of the marvellous legends connected with the famous General M—, of Hampton, New Hampshire, who was regarded by his neighbors as a Yankee Faust, in league with the adversary. I give the story, as I heard it when a child, from a venerable family visitant.

DARK the halls, and cold the feast,

Gone the bridemaids, gone the priest.

All is over, all is done,

Twain of yesterday are one!

Blooming girl and manhood gray,

Autumn in the arms of May!

Hushed within and hushed without,

Dancing feet and wrestlers' shout;

Dies the bonfire on the hill;

All is dark and all is still,

Save the starlight, save the breeze

Moaning through the graveyard trees;

And the great sea-waves below,

Pulse of the midnight beating slow.

From the brief dream of a bride

She hath wakened, at his side.

With half-uttered shriek and start,—

Feels she not his beating heart?

And the pressure of his arm,

And his breathing near and warm?

Lightly from the bridal bed

Springs that fair dishevelled head,

And a feeling, new, intense,

Half of shame, half innocence,

Maiden fear and wonder speaks

Through her lips and changing cheeks.

From the oaken mantel glowing,

Faintest light the lamp is throwing

On the mirror's antique mould,

High-backed chair, and wainscot old,

And, through faded curtains stealing,

His dark sleeping face revealing.

Listless lies the strong man there,

Silver-streaked his careless hair;

Lips of love have left no trace

On that hard and haughty face;

And that forehead's knitted thought

Love's soft hand hath not unwrought.

"Yet," she sighs, "he loves me well,

More than these calm lips will tell.

Stooping to my lowly state,

He hath made me rich and great,

And I bl...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Contents
• Foreword
• Introduction
• Proem
• I. Prophet to the Republic: "The Christian Slave" and Other Tirades
• II. The Warming Haze of Yesterday: "Telling the Bees" and Other Memories
• III. Snow-Bound: A Winter Idyll
• IV. Crafting the Past: "Skipper Ireson's Ride and Other Stories
• V. Tokens of an Inward Journey: "Trust" and Other Lessons
• Selected Bibliography