To What End

“Eighteen Hundred and Eleven” is Barbauld’s last poem and, for me, it was hard not to read the poem with this knowledge in mind. Barbauld did not write the poem knowing it would be her last, but upon facing criticism decided that the poem would close her poetic career. Appropriately, the poem also concerns the predicted end of Britain, but not just of any Britain: a Britain celebrated for its (her?) empire.

The poem begins fairly bluntly and, in my opinion, in a somewhat boring, though passionate, criticism of Britain’s participation in the war against Napoleon. These early sections feature lines like: “And where the soldier gleans the scant supply / The helpless peasant but retires to die” (19-20) and “By deeds of blood is lifted into fame; / Oft o’er the daily page some soft one bends / To learn the fate of husband, brothers, friends” (32-34) and “no more on crowded matt or busy street / Friends, meeting friends, with cheerful hurry greet” (55-56). None of these are necessarily poor lines of poetry, but they seem awfully easy. Maybe not being a complete war-supporting patriot was difficult during the time of writing these verses, but the sentiment here regarding faceless soldiers, peasants, mothers, wives, and “friends meeting friends” didn’t really stir much emotion from me. But this poem has historically received enough flack (enough, in fact, that Barbauld put down her pen forever) so I’ll move on to what did interest me about the poem: its Empire and apocalypse.

Barbauld’s poem really takes off when she begins a work of geographic specificity that addresses both Britain’s power in empire and its decay. Notice how in the next lines she both acknowledges the conquering of territories by the empire and how, in this acknowledgement, it is also noticed how that power will fade: “If westward stream the light that leaves thy shores, / Still from thy lamp the streaming radiance pours, / Wide spreads thy race from Ganges to the pole, / O’ver half the Western world thy accents roll” (79-82). Noting this stretch from India to the new United States displays Barbauld’s pride in not only England, but in how vast its violent reach is through knowledge and language.

This work through the poem reminds me of our previous in-class conversation on canonization, for most of the canon was not formed in England alone, but through conquest and aggressive empire. As Barbauld writes: “Thy leading star direct their search for truth; / Beneath the spreading platane’s tent-like shade, / Or by Missouri’s rushing waters laid” (90-92). This “search for truth” comes through the arts for Barbauld, as “Nor of the bards that swept the British lyre / Shall fade one laurel, or one note expire” (99-100). What will be remembered – and what has in the past been remembered about previous civilizations – are the artworks that civilization has bestowed upon it by geniuses who are not born but “descend” (238). And, although she doesn’t paint this stretch of art in a violent language, it’s interesting how Barbauld subtly comes into this sort of vocabulary. For example: “And Milton’s tones the raptured ear enthrall” (95) is supposed to evoke a kind of “rapture,” but the closing verb “enthrall” reminds me of a sort of capture or slavery – if not literally then at least in terms of the poetic iambic pentameter that would “capture” English language verse for so long and employed by Milton frequently. Empire extends through language even after territory is re-occupied and given back to the oppressed.

Barbauld seems to not give much attention to the oppression of the people in these areas and instead focuses in pseudo-celebratory tones on London, a city featuring “Streets, where the turbaned Moslem, bearded Jew, / And woolly Afric, met the brown Hindu;” (164-165). These descriptions are cringe-worthy now, but perhaps to Barbauld they represented a kind of paradise of difference in London. Although English provides empire that conquers, Barbauld seems to see it as an umbrella that unites different populations. For even to the fallen London tourists will still come to spot “On spoils from every clime…Egyptian granites and the Etruscan vase” (209-210). London becomes a kind of living museum and collection of the whole world – a civilization and culture built on preserving a microcosm of the Other.

Where do we end up? Barbauld both celebrates England and decries its state that will lead to decay. Of course, Barbauld turns this positive into a negative and shows how this decline puts British empire with all the “great civilizations, for after every rise “Then empires fall to dust” (243). After the fall, she claims “to other climes the Genius soars, / He turns from Europe’s desolated shores” (321-322). But where to? Barbauld points her finger to the United States, ending with the lines: “Shouts to the mingled tribes from sea to sea, / And swears – Thy world, Columbus, shall be free” (333-334). Obviously looking back this is a misguided view, especially ending with another violent conquerer: Columbus. Again, though, it’s interesting that Barbauld is fascinated with “mingling” and is prepared for the decline of her own empire and the rise of a new one.