221. Robert Southey to John May, 4 June 1797 ⁠* 

Sunday. June 4^th. 1797.

At Mr William Millers. [1]  Christ Church. Hampshire.

We were a week at Southampton, & that week was an unpleasant one. Edith was unwell for the first part, & the weather wet & windy for the last. at Lymington we only changed chaises. I wanted retirement & a bold coast, neither of which were to be found at Lymington, & the scenery of that part of the Forest appeared comparatively uninteresting after we had seen the road from Winchester to Southampton. here we are in a flat watry country. sufficiently retired, for the place is little better — or worse — than a village. but we are two miles from the beach, & the only object in sight from the windows which can associate an idea of being in the country is a thatched house opposite.

flat however as the country is, it is not altogether uninteresting. two hills near the town rise immediately from the plain, barren & dark. I know not how many little streams wind in all directions, & tho the windings of a stream thro a naked plain present no temptation to follow them, their distant gleaming relieve the uniformity of the prospect. here is one of the finest churches I ever saw; the ruins of a small priory washed by a clear rivulet stand almost in the churchyard. I shall remain here six or seven weeks & then migrate westwards.

The books with me are more than I wish when moving, & fewer than I want when settled. whilst I was packing them up, a friend brought me Robinsons Ecclesiastical Researches. [2]  he has as much wit as Jortin [3]  & yet never ceases to be serious, & with erudition at least equal to Mosheim, [4]  possesses a candour & discrimination which Mosheim wanted. have you read George Dyers life of Robert Robinson? [5]  it is the history of a very extraordinary man told with infinite simplicity by one as extraordinary as himself.

We have no acquaintance within fifty miles, & yet I never found Time pass more lightly. I sent Blackstone [6]  by the waggon to Southampton, & began a tragedy on the Martyrdom of Joan of Arc while he was on the road. my regular time for study has no room left for a new undertaking, & my poor tragedy must wait for a vacancy unless I steal the morning hours from sleep. this I hope to do. I have now to correct the Poem — & these are my purposed alterations. to omit Coleridges lines & the 9^th book. the Maids knowledge of her future fate may be told to Conrade in the 4^th. & the 9^th may be supplied by a midnight expedition to the tent of Burgundy to detach him from the English interest. She is said to have cut off the head of Franquet d’Arras, a Burgundian, & I can inweave this fact. [7]  the manner in which the arms are discovered in the 4^th book resembles clock work too much. it is miracle enough to find them, & mysterious events suit the Poet better than miraculous ones. The English ordered the herald who brought the first summons to them to be burnt. this is a fact too important to be past over, & yet I cannot spare my herald. It is very unfortunate that I cannot meet with Chapelains book. [8]  I must not be sparing of notes. the costume is strictly observed in all the battles sieges &c; but this should be pointed out, otherwise no perspicuity in the text can make the meaning obvious. The 9^th book extends now to 50 pages. some of my lines [MS cut] in the beginning of the 2^nd — may be inserted there — & the whole extended so as to publish seperately — the Tragedy will be printed in the same size, & both together form a volume.

Such are my purposed alterations. if any objection occur to you to these or to the other parts of the poem, I shall be thankful for the criticism. When shall you be in this part of the world?

Yrs truly

Robert Southey.