To
this day, it remains the conventional wisdom in Austen scholarly circles that
Jane Austen’s last poem, “Winchester Races”, was an inconsequential trifle, not
worthy of study, other than, perhaps, a poignant relic of Jane Austen’s final
days of life.
For
convenience, here it is, in toto:
Winchester
Races
When
Winchester races first took their beginning
It is said the good people forgot their old Saint
Not applying at all for the leave of Saint Swithin
And that William of Wykeham's approval was faint.
It is said the good people forgot their old Saint
Not applying at all for the leave of Saint Swithin
And that William of Wykeham's approval was faint.
The
races however were fixed and determined
The company came and the Weather was charming
The Lords and the Ladies were satine'd and ermined
And nobody saw any future alarming.--
The company came and the Weather was charming
The Lords and the Ladies were satine'd and ermined
And nobody saw any future alarming.--
But
when the old Saint was informed of these doings
He made but one Spring from his Shrine to the Roof
Of the Palace which now lies so sadly in ruins
And then he addressed them all standing aloof.
He made but one Spring from his Shrine to the Roof
Of the Palace which now lies so sadly in ruins
And then he addressed them all standing aloof.
'Oh!
subjects rebellious! Oh Venta depraved
When once we are buried you think we are gone
But behold me immortal! By vice you're enslaved
You have sinned and must suffer, then farther he said
When once we are buried you think we are gone
But behold me immortal! By vice you're enslaved
You have sinned and must suffer, then farther he said
These
races and revels and dissolute measures
With which you're debasing a neighboring Plain
Let them stand--You shall meet with your curse in your pleasures
Set off for your course, I'll pursue with my rain.
With which you're debasing a neighboring Plain
Let them stand--You shall meet with your curse in your pleasures
Set off for your course, I'll pursue with my rain.
Ye
cannot but know my command o'er July
Henceforward I'll triumph in shewing my powers
Shift your race as you will it shall never be dry
The curse upon Venta is July in showers--'.
Henceforward I'll triumph in shewing my powers
Shift your race as you will it shall never be dry
The curse upon Venta is July in showers--'.
Even
the minority of scholars who have studied the poem in any depth for the most
part do not consider it significant in the overall scheme of Austen studies- a
rare exception being the late David Nokes, who (correctly, in my view)
identified it as a serious curse by a dying woman.
Outlier
that I am, I’ve analyzed the poem on numerous occasions during the past few
years, from a variety of outside-the-box perspectives. I’ve argued each time
that Jane Austen wrote this poem assuming the persona of St. Swithin, the
legendary 9th century holy man, calling down a “rain” of fire and
brimstone on those sinners who would seek to stifle her radical feminist voice
forever after her death, by representing her to the world as an unthreatening writer
of women’s novels, and the dutiful, submissive sister and daughter who gladly did
as she was told, because that was the way things were supposed to be.
And
so I believed that I had finally milked the poem dry of covert meanings….until
two hours ago, when I was researching something else entirely, and then
suddenly came upon another entire strand of meaning concealed in plain sight in
a single line in the poem, which, not surprisingly to me, bolsters my claim
that the poem is a call to arms over wrongs committed against her. Can you see it?
If
you can’t, I won’t tease you this time with hints and winks, I’ll just pluck
that line out and put it here:
“And
that William of Wykeham's approval was faint.”
Now I
hope that reading that line has prompted a question in your mind---to wit, who was William of Wykeham and what’s he
doing in Jane Austen’s last poem? And more specifically, what did Jane Austen
mean when she wrote that the “good people” of Winchester, in initiating the
tradition of annual races in July, had forgotten that William’s “approval was
faint”? Was there something about the
historical William of Wykeham (whose name, of course, sounds suspiciously like
Wickham from P&P, adding that historical source to the location of the
Hellfire Club in West Wycombe) which somehow fit with this idea?
Turns
out that William of Wykeham was a very famous fellow who lived in the 14th
century---Bishop of Winchester and counselor to Richard II, remembered for
founding Winchester College and for a variety of other historically memorable
deeds during his lifetime:
So,
14th century William was pretty much just as famous in Winchester as
9th century St. Swithin. Hmm.. But then, isn’t it remarkable that
(as far as I could tell today after exhaustive searching on the Internet this
afternoon) not a single Austen scholar has ever written a word (that has found
its way onto the Internet or any of the common databases) about William of
Wykeham’s life, let alone made any attempt to explain what Jane Austen meant
when she referred to the good Bishop’s “faint” approval of Winchester Races??!!
Well,
I believe I have figured out exactly
what Jane Austen meant, and the answer to that little riddle can be found in a very
famous book published in 1789, i.e., nearly four centuries after William of
Wykeham’s death, and not quite 14 years after Jane Austen’s birth, a book in
which William’s disapproval of a
whole range of behaviors received very prominent display. Much more those
naughty behaviors in a few moments. But first….
…that
1789 book (which is what I was researching when I stumbled upon William of
Wykeham and realized it was the guy from Jane Austen’s last poem) is entitled The Natural History and
Antiquities of Selborne, a book which per Wikipedia, “has been
continuously in print since its first publication” and “was long held--probably
apocryphally---to be the fourth-most published book in the English language”.
And
here’s the best part of all from the Janeite point of view---the author was
Gilbert White of Selbourne!
Probably
a lot of you already know who he was, but if not, I suggest you start by
reading about him here….
..and
then immediately follow up by reading what our very own Diana Birchall had to
say about Gilbert White in the following excellent blog post she wrote a few
years about her visit to his home in Hampshire:
Diana,
who has been interested in White for years, wrote: “So it seemed likely enough that the Austens
would have known all about [Gilbert White], but confirmation of this came when
I read the book of poems by Jane Austen’s brother James, The Complete
Poems of James Austen, Jane Austen’s Eldest Brother (ed. with intro and
notes by David Selwyn), and found this:
Who
talks of rational delight
When Selbourne’s hill appears in sight
And does not think of Gilbert White?” UNQUOTE
When Selbourne’s hill appears in sight
And does not think of Gilbert White?” UNQUOTE
Well,
once you read the rest of my blog post, below, you will realize that Jane
Austen’s last poem is itself an additional, but covert, proof that she was
familiar not only with Gilbert White the naturalist, but also Gilbert White the
antiquary!
But
first, this is finally the time to digress for one moment, and explain how it
is that I was looking at Gilbert White’s very famous book in the first place,
so that I could learn what it was that Jane Austen learned from White that led
her to devote one precious line in her last poem entirely to him.
I
received an email earlier today from Terry Townsend, my new English friend who
reached out to me last week about Jane Austen and the Bramstons, as I recounted
here…
…and
Terry wrote as follows:
“Arnie,
Do you think (or know... or care) if Jane Austen ever read Gilbert White's 'The
Natural History and Antiquities of Selborne'? White published his
work in 1789 when Jane was fourteen and living in Steventon (17 miles
away). On August 31st 1811, when Jane was 36, she dined with White's niece
(Rebecca Parker Terry) at Hill House in Alton. What do you think? Any ideas? Regards
Terry”
Based
on my prior experience, my eyes lit up when I saw I had another email from
Terry, and I sure wasn’t disappointed this time! It was in the answering of his first question
that I also discovered why Jane Austen included William of Wykeham in her last
poem.
But Terry’s
subsequent comments about one degree of personal separation between Jane Austen
and Gilbert White were equally informative to me, as I had been completely
unaware of it before Terry pointed it out. Sure enough, per an entry in Mary
Lloyd Austen’s diary, Jane Austen and her sister in law dined with the niece of
her (by then two decades deceased) famous uncle.
How
was it I had never heard of this? Well, I fear I must point another finger at
Deirdre Le Faye, who has, I now see, committed the following additional editorial
sins:
She
has never seen fit to include anything at all about Jane Austen dining with
Gilbert White’s niece in either the 3rd or the 4th
edition of the JA Letters, not even in Le Faye’s specific entry for “Hill House”
in the Geographical Index! But, you say, what if Le Faye did not know that Rebecca
Parker Terry was White’s niece? Well, Le Faye actually does have an entry in
her massive Jane Austen Chronology for August 31, 1811, for JA and Mary Lloyd
Austen having dinner with Mrs. Terry at Hill House in Alton.
So,
at the very least, she failed to connect those dots for her readers, so that
someone other than Terry Townsend, with his encyclopedic knowledge of the
personal connections in Hampshire during JA’s lifetime, might have figured out what
was what.
But
enough of that, let’s land the plane about William of Wykeham and his “faint
approval”. In the antiquities section of his very famous book, here’s what
Gilbert White wrote about William of Wykeham, who got an entire section devoted
just to him, as you will now read:
"In
the year 1373 [William of] Wykeham, bishop of Winchester, held a visitation of his whole diocese;
not only of the secular clergy through the several deaneries, but also of the
monasteries, and religious houses of all sorts, which he visited in person. The
next year he sent his commissioners with power to correct and reform the
several irregularities and abuses which he had discovered in the course of his
visitation."
"Some
years afterward, the bishop having visited three
several times all the religious houses throughout his diocese, and being
well informed of the state and condition of each, and of the particular abuses
which required correction and reformation, besides the orders which he had
already given, and the remedies which he had occasionally applied by his
commissioners, now issued his injunctions to each of them. They were
accommodated to their several exigencies, and intended to correct the abuses
introduced, and to recall them all to a strict observation of the rules of
their respective orders. Many of these injunctions are still extant, and are
evident monuments of the care and attention with which he discharged this part
of his episcopal duty."
Some
of these injunctions I shall here produce; and they are such as will not fail,
I think, to give satisfaction to the antiquary, both as never having been published before, and as they are a
curious picture of monastic irregularities at that time. The documents that I
allude to are contained in the Notabilis Visitatio de
Seleburne, held at the Priory of that place, by Wykeham
in person, in the year 1387.” END QUOTE
So,
White is telling us that he himself went right to the documentary source, the
ancient manuscript held at the Priory in Selbourne, and dug up the verbiage
which I am saying to you was Jane Austen’s inspiration for that line in her
last poem. Here is a link to the full text of what White wrote, all 25 items
(just start at p. 470, Letter 14th)…
…and
here is Wikipedia’s excellent summary of Letter 14:
“Letter 14 describes the visit of
bishop William of Wykeham in 1373, to correct the scandalous "particular
abuses" in the religious houses in the parish. He orders the canons of Selborne
priory (Item 5th) "to take care that the doors of their church and priory
be so attended to that no suspected and disorderly females, suspectae at aliae inhonestae, pass
through their choir and cloiser in the dark"; (Item 10th) to cease
"living dissolutely after the flesh, and not after the spirit" as it
has been proven that some of the canons "sleep naked in their beds without
their breeches and shirts"; (Item 11th) to stop "keeping hounds, and
publicly attending hunting-matches" and "noisy tumultuous
huntings"; (Item 17th) to properly maintain their houses and the convent
itself, since they have allowed "through neglect, notorious dilapidations
to take place"; (Item 29th) to stop wearing "foppish ornaments, and
the affectation of appearing like beaux with garments edged with costly furs,
with fringed gloves, and silken girdles trimmed with gold and silver."
Richard Mabey describes White's reaction to the "Priory saga" as
"grave disapproval of the monks' 'sensuality and ... general
delinquency'". “ END QUOTE
Did
you notice Item 11th, about “publicly attending hunting-matches”? Of course, that is what JA transmuted into
the horse races of Winchester! And I am
also certain that JA would have been split between derisive laughter and
serious outrage when she saw that William of Wykeham was actually the kind of sexually-obsessed
misogynist who would be extra vigilant and punitive against “disorderly females”
who were “ living dissolutely after the flesh”. But, she used him nonetheless as a symbol of
zealous, righteous anger.
So…in
conclusion, I believe that Jane Austen very consciously alluded to William of
Wykeham in order to reinforce the idea of herself as a kind of avenging angel
who would leave no stone unturned in enforcing her curse on certain of her surviving
family members in “Winchester Races”, and---given that brother James seemed to
be particular fan of Gilbert White---I believe that JA probably specifically intended
that James Austen would recognize the “Gilbert White” veiled allusion in that
line from her poem when he read it, and realize he was her primary target.
All of
which adds even more force to…
When once
we are buried you think we are gone
But behold me immortal!
But behold me immortal!
That
means you especially, James Austen!
Cheers,
ARNIE
@JaneAustenCode
on Twitter
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