Irving

and ingenious use of folklore in "Rip Van
Winkle" and "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow."
In addition the entire book was transfused by
a gracious and finished style, particularly sur-
prising, thought the English critics, from an
American writer, "a kind of demi-savage, with
a feather in his hand instead of on his head."

"Geoffrey Crayon" was now, remarked his
friend, C. R. Leslie, the painter, "the most fash-
ionable fellow of the day." "Had anyone told
me," Irving wrote John Murray, the publisher,
"a few years since in America that anything I
could write would interest such men as Gifford
and Byron, I should as readily have believed
a fairy tale." Since he disliked the Cockney
school, his intimacies were now with Samuel
Rogers, Thomas Moore, and Scott, and with the
habitues of Holland House, where he was a con-
stant visitor. In Paris for several months in
1820, he still enjoyed thirstily this first fame,
hob-nobbing with Albert Gallatin and George
Bancroft, collaborating in play-writing with
John Howard Payne, observing with delight the
preparation of French translations of his writ-
ings, and arguing with Leslie about the proper
costume for a projected painting of himself. He
still cherished his overflow of notes from The
Sketch Book, and during this winter, acting on
a hint from Moore, he commenced Bracebridge
Hall. This he finished at Van Wart's, after his
own return to England in time for the corona-
tion of George IV. Bracebridge Hall (1822),
for which he received, he himself said, a thou-
sand guineas from Murray, seems today utterly
insipid, but it solidified Irving's literary repu-
tation. The devotees of gift-books and annuals
liked the sentimental sketches of an English life
that never did exist; others were pleased by the
more robust work in "The Stout Gentleman"
and "Dolph Heyliger." This adulation of his
admirers the dark-eyed author acknowledged,
with that winning smile of his, and that sweet
husky voice. His personal charm accentuated
his popularity, and he was now, to use his own
phrase, "hand-in-glove with nobility and mo-
bility." He was, in fact, weary of his ceaseless
social engagements, and, besides, was worried
about his health, for he suffered from a cutane-
ous disease of the ankles, which was destined to
cloud somewhat his happiness during various
periods of his life. He had written himself out
concerning England; he longed, as always, for
the stimulus of travel, and he was curious, after
his visit to Scott, about Germany. On July 6,
1822, he left London, and passing through Hol-
land, reached the baths of Aix-la-Chapelle.
It was but seven years after the formation of

Irving

the Confederation; and everywhere Irving met
soldiers from the Napoleonic wars, and felt the
stir of new political and social aspirations. But,
characteristically, he was far more interested in
Germany's past than in her present. Reading
Schiller and Goethe, and making numerous jot-
tings on folklore, he traveled through Heidel-
berg, Strasbourg, Munich, and Salzburg to Vi-
enna. Here he hesitated, meditating a return to
Tom Moore in Paris and to his intimate friend,
Thomas W. Storrow. He had, however, now
resolved to write a "work on Germany," and
improvement in the language was imperative.
In November he pushed on through Prague to
Dresden, where he passed, so he said afterwards,
the happiest winter of his life. The little Saxon
court of Frederick Augustus was at once a bi-
zarre and an appropriate setting for Washing-
ton Irving of William Street, New York. His
writings were already known here, and he was
at once accepted by the King, the court, and the
vivacious circle of English, French, Spanish,
and Russian diplomats, as well as by the inti-
mate family circle of Mrs. John Foster, an Eng-
lish lady then living in Dresden. To her daugh-
ter, Emily, Irving probably proposed marriage,
but no conclusive proof exists that this episode
affected deeply either his life or his writings.
The winter enriched Irving's knowledge of Ger-
man; introduced him to a quaint and genial so-
ciety; and enlarged his circle of friends; but
was, on the whole, a period of misdirected en-
ergy. There is a marked discrepancy between
the wealth of materials in his journals of this
time, and his actual use of them in creative lit-
erature. Too preoccupied with society, too in-
dolent, too timid of merely repeating through
Continental legend the current fashions of Eng-
land, he never brought the great opportunity of
the German sojourn to full fruition.

The next nine months in Paris, beginning en
Aug. 3, 1823, repeat the familiar story of pur-
poses delayed. Reluctant to use his German ma-
terials, he was absorbed again by society, par-
ticularly by the English and American travelers
who, after the abdication of Napoleon, were for-
ever streaming through the capital. His anchor-
age was T. W. Storrow's home, with its little
republic of children and American friends, but
he is seen often at Lady Thomond's or the Amer-
ican embassy, or negotiating for some piece of
hackwork at Galignani's, where he was much
sought after as an editor. Now forty years old,
Irving's suggestiveness to others becomes more
than ever apparent He had once composed the
first draft of a novel. Now with Kenney, the
actor, and Payne he wasted precious hours in

508