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Updated: June 14, 2025
W. kindly urging me to pay him a visit in the north, in which, as an inducement, he says, "... Write to me beforehand, and I will accompany you on a tour. God bless you, dear Cottle, A short time after the receipt of this invitation, Mr. Coleridge arrived in Bristol from Germany, and as he was about to pay Mr. Wordsworth a visit, he pressed me to accompany him.
I had recommended two volumes, but one was fixed on, and that to be published anonymously. It was to be begun immediately, and with the "Ancient Mariner;" which poem I brought with me to Bristol. A day or two after I received the following. "My dear Cottle, You know what I think of a letter, how impossible it is to argue in it.
Yours affectionately, Robert Southey." "Keswick, March 16, 1810. My dear Cottle, It is very far from being the habit of my mind to indulge in visionary hopes, but from what I recollect of the nature of your complaint, it is an inveterate inflammation, and this I believe to be completely within the reach of art...."
The volume of Lyrical Ballads, whose first beginnings have here been traced, was published in the autumn of 1798, by Mr. Cottle, at Bristol.
I suppose you have heard of the death of Amos Cottle. I paid a solemn visit of condolence to his brother, accompanied by George Dyer, of burlesque memory. I went, trembling, to see poor Cottle so immediately upon the event. He was in black, and his younger brother was also in black. Everything wore an aspect suitable to the respect due to the freshly dead.
Here in this high, sequestered spot, which nevertheless preserved the mondanités to which she was accustomed, she would gladly have spent the winter alone with her children and their governess had there not arrived at the hotel a woman she had known for many years and who was in a position oddly similar to her own. At school she had been Gertie Cottle. In New York she was Mrs. Harry Scadding.
Coleridge's reply: "'April 26,1814. "'You have poured oil in the raw and festering wound of an old friend's conscience Cottle, but it is oil of vitriol!
In the year 1814, after an hemorrhage from the lungs, and consequent debility, I relieved my mind by writing a kind, serious, and faithful letter to my friend Southey, under an apprehension that it might be my last; to which Mr. Southey returned the following reply. "Keswick, May 13, 1814. My dear Cottle,
He tells me that my Lord Sandwich do proceed on his journey with the greatest kindnesse that can be imagined from the King and Chancellor, which was joyfull newes to me. Thence with Lord Bruncker to Greenwich by water to a great dinner and much company; Mr. Cottle and his lady and others and I went, hoping to get Mrs.
Then began that burst of British virtue on which Macaulay has expatiated, and at which the social critics of the continent have laughed. Cottle, Cato, Oxoniensis, Delia, and Styles, were let loose, and they anticipated the Saturday and the Spectator of 1869, so that the latter might well have exclaimed, "Pereant qui ante nos nostra dixerunt."
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