Joan of Arc (Southey)/Preface

PREFACE.

 

 

EARLY in July 1793, the character of JOAN of ARC was the subject of conversation between myself and an intimate friend: the adventures of this extraordinary woman appeared to me well adapted for an Epic Poem; in the course of a few days I formed the rude outlines of a plan, and wrote the first three hundred lines; the remainder of the month was employed in travelling, and I made no progress even in idea. The subject was resumed on the 13th of August, and the original poem in twelve books, finished in six weeks, from that time.

My performance pleased myself, and those who had witnessed it's progress and completion. A few months afterwards it was shewn to a friend, whose taste and judgment I knew to be accurate.—"I am glad you have written this," said he, "it will serve you as a large collection, where you will find good passages for better poems." Our opinions differed, and I of course preferred my own. From this time the piece lay untouched in my desk, till the Autumn of 1794, when my intention of printing it was publicly announced.

Still the task of correction was unperformed. Many employments intervened; and a very few verbal alterations were all I had made when the paper and types arrived from London, and the Printer was ready to begin. The first proof was brought me. I saw its faults, and immediately formed my resolution. The first 340 lines remain nearly as they were: from thence the plan of the whole has been changed, and I believe there are not 1000 lines remaining as they were originally written. The rest was composed whilst the printing went on.

The 450 lines at the beginning of the second book, were written by S. T. Coleridge. But from this part must be excepted the lines 141, 142, 143; and the whole intermediate passage from 148 to 222. The lines from 266 to 272, are likewise mine, and the lines from 286 to 291.

The general fault of Epic Poems is, that we feel little interest for the Heroes they celebrate. The national vanity of a Greek or a Roman might have been gratified by the renown of Achilles, or Æneas, but to engage the unprejudiced, there must be more of human feelings than is generally to be found in the character of Warriors: from this objection the Odyssey alone may be excepted. Ulysses appears as the father and the husband, and the affections are enlisted on his side. The judgment must applaud the well-digested plan, and splendid execution of the Iliad, but the heart always bears testimony to the merit of the Odyssey: it is the poem of nature, and its personages inspire love rather than command admiration. The good herdsman Eumæus is worth a thousand heroes! Homer is indeed the best of Poets, for he is dignified yet simple; but Pope has disguised him in fop-finery, and Cowper has stripped him naked.

There are few readers who do not prefer Turnus to Æneas; an emigrant, suspected of treason, who negligently left his wife, seduced Dido, deserted her, and then took Lavinia forcibly from her betrothed husband! What avails a man's piety to the Gods, if in all his dealings with men he prove himself a villain? If we represent Deity as commanding a bad action, we make a Moloch God, and furnish arguments for the Atheist. The ill-chosen subjects of Lucan and Statius have prevented them from acquiring the popularity they would otherwise have merited, yet in detached parts, the former of these is perhaps unequalled, certainly unexcelled. The French Court honored the Poet of Liberty, by excluding him from the edition in Usum Delphini; perhaps perhaps, for the same reason, he may hereafter be published in Usum Reipublicæ. I do not scruple to prefer Statius to Virgil; his images are strongly conceived, and clearly painted, and the force of his language, while it makes the reader feel, proves that the author felt himself.

The power of Story is strikingly exemplified in the Italian Poets: they please universally, even in Translations. In the proportioning of his character, Tasso has generally failed. Godfrey is the hero of the poem, Rinaldo of the poet, and Tancred of the reader. Secondary characters should not be introduced like Gyas and Cloanthus; merely to fill a procession; neither should they be so prominent as to throw the principal into shade.

The lawless magic of Ariosto, and the singular theme as well as the singular excellence of Milton, render all rules of epic poetry inapplicable to these authors: so likewise with Spenser, the favourite of my childhood, from whose frequent perusal I have always found increased delight.

Against the machinery of Camoens, a heavier charge must be brought than that of profaneness or incongruity. His floating island is but a floating brothel, and no beauty can make atonement for licentiousness. The Lusiad, though excellent in parts, is uninteresting as a whole: it is read without interest, and remembered without pleasure.

The two poems of Glover have indeed the body of poetry, but there is no animating spirit: yet the Scholar must be pleased with their classical propriety, and the young heart will feel itself warmed by the struggle and success of free men.

It has been established as a necessary rule for the Epic, that the subject be national. To this rule I have acted in direct opposition, and chosen for the subject of my poem the defeat of my country. If among my readers there be one who can wish success to injustice, because his countrymen supported it, I desire not that man's approbation.

The History of JOAN of ARC is one of those problems that render investigation fruitless. That she believed herself inspired, few will deny: that she was inspired, no one will venture to assert; and who can believe that she herself was imposed on by Charles and Dunois? That she discovered the King when he disguised himself among the Courtiers to deceive her, and that, as a proof of her mission, she demanded a sword from a tomb in the church of St. Catharine, are facts in which all Historians agree: if this were done by collusion, the Maid must have known herself an impostor, and with that knowledge could not have performed the enterprise she undertook. Enthusiasm, and that of no common kind, was necessary to enable a young Maiden at once to assume the profession of arms, to lead her troops to battle, to fight among the foremost, and to subdue with an inferior force an enemy then believed invincible. One who felt herself the tool of a party, could not have performed this. The artifices of the Court could not have persuaded her that she discovered Charles in disguise; nor could they have prompted her to demand the sword they might have hidden, without discovering the deceit. The Maid then was not knowingly an impostor; nor could she have been the puppet of the Court: and to say that she believed herself inspired, will neither account for her singling out the King, or prophetically claiming the sword. After crowning Charles, she declared that her Mission was accomplished, and demanded leave to retire. Enthusiasm would not have ceased here; and if they who imposed on her could persuade her still to go with their armies, they could still have continued her delusion.

Fuller, of quaint memory, classes her among witches. He calls her a handsome, witty, and bold Maid, about twenty years of age. "People found out a nest of miracles in her education, that so lion-like a spirit should be bred among sheep like David. Ever after she went in man's cloaths, being armed cap-a-pee, and mounted on a brave steed: and, which was a wonder, when she was on horseback, none was more bold and daring; when alighted, none more tame and meek; so that one could scarce see her for herself, she was so changed and altered, as if her spirits dismounted with her body."

"Two customes had this Virago (call her now John or Joan), which can no way be defended: one was her constant going in man's clothes, flatly against Scripture; beside she shaved her hair in the fashion of a Frier, against God's express word: it being also a solecism in nature, all women being born votaries and the veil of their long hair minds them of their obedience they naturally owe to man: yea, without this comely ornament of hair, their most glorious beauty appears as deformed, as the sun would be prodigious without beams."

I have placed the death of Salisbury later, and of the Talbots earlier than these events occurred, and I believe these to be the only liberties taken with facts. The fall of the bridge at Orleans, a circumstance that the reader might deem invention, is historically true. The ninth book is the Original Sin of the poem. That it is a defect, I am myself sensible; but it is not uncommon at the age of twenty-one for the imagination to out-run the judgment. For the sake of variety, I thought it essential to introduce rough lines occasionally, and this I mention, lest some might suspect me of carelessness. Such as it is, the poem is before the world. I shall not witness its reception, and it will be long before the tidings will reach me in a distant part of Europe. Liberal criticism I shall attend to, and I hope profit by, in the execution of my Madoc, an Epic Poem on the discovery of America by that Prince, on which I am at present engaged. From line 121 to 131 in the tenth Book, of my writing, has been seen already by the public in another work; but as it is at present out of print and improbable that another edition will appear: on account of the appropriate sentiments they contained, I did not scruple to place them in their present situation.

M. Laverdy is now occupied in collecting whatever has been written concerning the Maid of Orleans. The result of his enquiries I anxiously expect. Of the various productions to the memory of JOAN of ARC, I have collected only a few titles, and if report may be trusted, need not fear a heavier condemnation than to be deemed equally bad. A regular Canon of St. Euverte has written un tres mauvaise poeme, intitled, The Modern Amazon. There is a prose tragedy called La Pucelle D'Orleans, variously attributed to Benserade, to Boyer, and to Menardiere. The Abbe Daubignee published a prose tragedy with the same title in 1642. In the Vatican, among the manuscripts of the Queen of Sweden, is a dramatic piece in verse, entitled, Le Mystere du Siege d'Orleans. Of my unfortunate predecessor Chapelain, I have been able to learn nothing but from Boileau. The Pucelle of Voltaire I have not read.

The following account of the imprisonment and execution of the Maid, I translate from Millin's National Antiquities of France. "JOAN was oppressed with outrages of all kinds: at every question they called her Joan the Heretic—the Sorceress—the Lascivious. Questions the most ridiculous were put to her; her confession was drawn from her, yet could they not find her culpable. The University of Paris assembled, and pronounced her a Heretic and Schismatic. The account of the process was read to Joan, and she complained fruitlessly, that her answers were falsified. They threatened her with the stake if she did not abjure: they read to her a passage which contained a promise to quit the habit of a man, and never again to bear arms. This writing she thought she signed, but they substituted another, in which she confessed herself an Harlot, an Idolatress, a Sorceress, Seditious, &c. &c.—She was sentenced to perpetual imprisonment."

"But this was not what had been promised to the English, and to satisfy them, it was necessary to destroy the unhappy JOAN. She had promised never more to wear the habit of a man; during the night they removed her own clothes, and placed in their stead those of a man: in vain did she demand her own—they were refused—vainly did she say that death was threatened her; her prayers were unregarded. She remained in bed till necessity obliged her to cover herself with the apparel of a man. Then was she seized, declared to have relapsed—excommunicated—crowned with paper upon which was written—An Heretic! an Apostate! an Idolatress!" and then reserved for punishment, "guarded by an hundred and twenty armed soldiers."

At last she was condemned to the flames. Over the stake was placed a large writing, bearing these words:—"JOAN, calling herself the Maid, is a Liar, a Diviner, a Blasphemer of God, a Disbeliever of the "Faith, an Idolatress, cruel, lewd, an Invocator of the Devil, an Apostate, a Schismatic, and an Heretic."

On the right and left of the stake were two scaffolds; upon the one were seen Pierre Cauchon and his clergy, on the other the Bailli of Rouen and the Assesseurs.

The Theologian Nicolas Midi pronounced an hypocritical discourse, concluding with these words:—"JOAN, go in peace, the Church abandons you to the "secular justice." The Bailli of Rouen had not power to pronounce sentence, all he could utter was, "menez la—let it be."

The preparation for death shook the firmness of JOAN:—she wept, and her tears softened the executioner, but not the Theologians. She was consumed before a numerous people, who, always late in their regrets, detested the atrocity on which they had assembled to glut their eyes.

The Assesseurs of Rouen abhorred their crime; and said themselves that they were dishonoured and undone. The executioner ran to throw himself at the feet of his confessor, but the Priests sung hymns for their detestable triumph.

Thus perished this admirable heroine, "to whom" (says Hume) "the more generous superstition of the ancients would have erected altars."

On the eighth of May, the epoch of it's deliverance, an annual fête is held as Orleans: and monuments have been erected to her memory. Her family was ennobled by Charles, but it should not be forgotten in the history of this monarch, that in the hour of misfortune he abandoned to her fate, the woman who had saved his kingdom.