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    The Poetry Of Charlotte Smith: "If conquest does not bind posterity, so neither can compact bind it."
    The Poetry Of Charlotte Smith: "If conquest does not bind posterity, so neither can compact bind it."
    The Poetry Of Charlotte Smith: "If conquest does not bind posterity, so neither can compact bind it."
    Ebook133 pages1 hour

    The Poetry Of Charlotte Smith: "If conquest does not bind posterity, so neither can compact bind it."

    By Charlotte Smith

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    Charlotte Turner Smith was born on May 4th 1749 in London. Her early years were dominated by her mother’s early death and her father’s reckless spending. At age six, Charlotte went to school in Chichester and two years later moved to London with her aunt and sister where she attended a girls school in Kensington learning to dance, draw act and play music. At 12 Charlotte left school to be tutored at home. On 23 February 1765, at the age of fifteen, she married Benjamin Smith, the son of Richard Smith, a wealthy West Indian merchant and a director of the East India Company. The proposal was accepted for her by her father. Charlotte was later to write that she now become a "legal prostitute".  Benjamin was violent and unfaithful and had no confidence in her writings that she begun to spend more time on. In 1766, Charlotte and Benjamin had their first child, who died the next year just days after the birth of their second. Between 1767 and 1785, the couple had ten more children. Charlotte assisted in the family business, helping Richard Smith with his correspondence. Convincing Richard to set Benjamin up as a gentleman farmer in Hampshire she lived with him at Lys Farm from 1774 until 1783. Worried about Charlotte's future and that of his grandchildren due to his son’s irresponsible ways, Richard left most of his property to Charlotte's children. However, having drawn up the will himself, it contained legal problems. The inheritance, originally worth nearly £36,000, was tied up after his death in 1776 for almost forty years. In fact, Benjamin had already illegally spent much of it which contributed to him ending up in King's Bench Prison in December 1783. Smith moved in with him and it was here that she wrote and published her first work, Elegiac Sonnets (1784). It was an instant success, allowing Charlotte to pay for their release from prison. Smith's sonnets helped promote a revival of the form. After their release from prison, the family moved to Dieppe, France to avoid further creditors. In 1784 she began to translate works from French into English. In 1787 she published The Romance of Real Life.  Charlotte published all her works under her own name which was considered unusual at the time. Moving to Chichester she began to write novels believing she could earn more from their sale. Her first novel, Emmeline in 1788, was a success, selling 1500 copies within months. In the next decade she wrote nine more: Ethelinde in 1789, Celestina in 1791, Desmond in 1792, The Old Manor House in 1793 – widely considered her best work, The Wanderings of Warwick in 1794, The Banished Man in 1794, Montalbert in 1795, Marchmont in 1796, and The Young Philosopher in 1798. Charlotte’s experiences caused her to promote legal reforms that would grant women more rights, making the case for these reforms through her novels. Her novel’s stories showed the "legal, economic, and sexual exploitation" of women by marriage and property laws. However her finances were a continuing concern and she moved frequently to avoid being snared. Her health was also in decline. After her last novel and its only mild success she explored other areas include drama, children’s works and a History of England. She also returned to writing poetry and Beachy Head and Other Poems was published posthumously in 1807. Publishers did not pay as much for these works, however, and by 1803, Smith was again poverty-stricken. Charlotte complained of gout for many years, which made it increasingly difficult and painful for her to write. By the end of her life, it had almost paralyzed her. Charlotte died on October 28th 1806, at Tilford. She is buried at Stoke Church, Stoke Park, near Guildford. Perhaps she is best remembered by this quote from William Wordsworth who says in an essay that Smith was a poet "to whom English verse is under greater obligations than are likely to be either acknowledged or remembered"

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCopyright Group
    Release dateJan 17, 2014
    ISBN9781783948062
    The Poetry Of Charlotte Smith: "If conquest does not bind posterity, so neither can compact bind it."
    Author

    Charlotte Smith

    Charlotte Smith is Curator of The Darnell Collection. She was born in Hong Kong to an English mother and an American father. She grew up with her brother and sister on the east coast of America and graduated with a degree in Art History from Hollins College in Virginia. Charlotte has worked for art dealers, ran her own business manufacturing decorative lampshades and was the proprietor of a French country antiques shop. Her interests include horse riding, interior decorating, writing and gardening. She has lived and worked in America, England, France and and now resides in Australia, in the Blue Mountains with her daughter.  Charlotte's fascination with fashion began with a special vintage dress at the age of three. Since inheriting her godmother's vast vintage clothing collection, her passion for fashion has grown to include the history of fashion and its significant impact on society. Charlotte is involved with exhibitions of her collection around the country, gives lectures and talks, works with fashion and design students and is featured on television and radio.    Grant Cowan has worked as an illustrator on magazines like Harper’s Bazaar, Glamour and Red magazine. He studied fashion design and lived in London before moving to Australia to teach fashion illustration. Grant is a freelance fashion illustrator and works  with fashion schools in Sydney.

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      Book preview

      The Poetry Of Charlotte Smith - Charlotte Smith

      The Poetry Of Charlotte Smith

      Charlotte Turner Smith was born on May 4th 1749 in London.  Her early years were dominated by her mother’s early death and her father’s reckless spending.   Charlotte together with her younger brother and sister, Nicholas and Catherine Ann, were then raised by their maternal aunt Lucy Towers whilst their Father was away.

      At age six, Charlotte went to school in Chichester and two years later moved to London with her aunt and sister where she attended a girls school in Kensington learning to dance, draw act and play music.

      Upon her Father’s return to England he encountered financial problems and sold off much of the family holdings before marrying the wealthy Henrietta Meriton in 1765.

      At 12 Charlotte left school to be tutored at home.

      On 23 February 1765, at the age of fifteen, she married Benjamin Smith, the son of Richard Smith, a wealthy West Indian merchant and a director of the East India Company. The proposal was accepted for her by her father. Charlotte was later to write that she now become a legal prostitute.   Benjamin was violent and unfaithful and had no confidence in her writings that she begun to spend more time on.

      In 1766, Charlotte and Benjamin had their first child, who died the next year just days after the birth of their second.  Between 1767 and 1785, the couple had ten more children.

      Charlotte assisted in the family business, helping Richard Smith with his correspondence. Convincing Richard to set Benjamin up as a gentleman farmer in Hampshire she lived with him at Lys Farm from 1774 until 1783. Worried about Charlotte's future and that of his grandchildren due to his son’s irresponsible ways, Richard left most of his property to Charlotte's children. However, having drawn up the will himself, it contained legal problems. The inheritance, originally worth nearly £36,000, was tied up after his death in 1776 for almost forty years.

      In fact, Benjamin had already illegally spent much of it which contributed to him ending up in King's Bench Prison in December 1783. Smith moved in with him and it was here that she wrote and published her first work, Elegiac Sonnets (1784). It was an instant success, allowing Charlotte to pay for their release from prison. Smith's sonnets helped promote a revival of the form.

      After their release from prison, the family moved to Dieppe, France to avoid further creditors. In 1784 she began to translate works from French into English. In 1787 she published The Romance of Real Life. 

      In 1785, the family returned to England locating in Sussex. Charlotte’s marriage did not improve and on 15 April 1787 she left him. She wrote that she might have been contented to reside in the same house with him, had not his temper been so capricious and often so cruel that her life was not safe.

      In leaving she failed to secure a legal agreement that would protect her finances.  Under English primogeniture laws. Charlotte  knew that her children's future rested on a successful settlement of the lawsuit over her father-in-law's will, and made every effort to earn enough to fund the suit and retain their status. 

      Charlotte published all her works under her own name which was considered unusual at the time.  Moving to Chichester she began to write novels believing she could earn more from their sale.  Her first novel, Emmeline in 1788, was a success, selling 1500 copies within months. In the next decade she wrote nine more: Ethelinde in 1789, Celestina in 1791,  Desmond in 1792, The Old Manor House in 1793 – widely considered her best work, The Wanderings of Warwick in 1794, The Banished Man in 1794, Montalbert in 1795, Marchmont in 1796, and The Young Philosopher in 1798.

      Charlotte’s experiences caused her to promote legal reforms that would grant women more rights, making the case for these reforms through her novels. Her novel’s stories showed the legal, economic, and sexual exploitation of women by marriage and property laws.

      However her finances were a continuing concern and she moved frequently to avoid being snared. Her health was also in decline.

      After her last novel and its only mild success she explored other areas include drama, children’s works and a History of England.  She also returned to writing poetry and Beachy Head and Other Poems was published posthumously in 1807.

      Publishers did not pay as much for these works, however, and by 1803, Smith was again poverty-stricken.

      Charlotte complained of gout for many years, which made it increasingly difficult and painful for her to write. By the end of her life, it had almost paralyzed her.

      On 23 February 1806, her husband died in a debtors' prison and Smith finally received some of the money he owed her, but she was too ill to do anything with it.

      Charlotte died on October 28th 1806, at Tilford. She is buried at Stoke Church, Stoke Park, near Guildford.

      Perhaps she is best remembered by this quote from William Wordsworth who says in an essay that Smith was a poet to whom English verse is under greater obligations than are likely to be either acknowledged or remembered 

      Index Of Poems

      Written Near A Port On A Dark Evening

      A Walk In The Shrubbery

      Apostrophe

      April

      Beachy Head

      Elegy

      Evening

      Flora

      Fragment

      Hope

      Huge Vapours Brood Above The Clifted Shore

      Inscription

      Love And Folly

      Occasional Address

      On The Aphorism

      Saint Monica

      Studies By The Sea

      The Bee's Winter Retreat

      The Dead Beggar

      The Emigrants: Book I

      The Emigrants: Book II

      The Female Exile

      The First Swallow 

      The Forest Boy

      The Horologe Of The Fields

      The Lark’s Nest

      The Moon

      The Origin Of Flattery

      The Peasant Of The Alps

      The Swallow  

      The Truant Dove, From Pilpay

      Thirty-Eight

      To The Snowdrop 

      Written Near A Port On A Dark Evening

      Huge vapours brood above the clifted shore, 

      Night on the ocean settles dark and mute, 

      Save where is heard the repercussive roar 

      Of drowsy billows on the rugged foot 

      Of rocks remote; or still more distant tone 

      Of seamen in the anchored bark that tell 

      The watch relieved; or one deep voice alone 

      Singing the hour, and bidding Strike the bell! 

      All is black shadow but the lucid line 

      Marked by the light surf on the level sand, 

      Or where afar the ship-lights faintly shine 

      Like wandering fairy fires, that oft on land 

      Misled the pilgrim, such the dubious ray 

      That wavering reason lends in life's long darkling way. 

      A Walk In The Shrubbery

      To the Cistus or Rock Rose, a beautiful plant, whose flowers

      expand, and fall off twice in twenty-four hours. 

      The Florists, who have fondly watch'd, 

      Some curious bulb from hour to hour, 

      And, to ideal charms attach'd, 

      Derive their glory from a flower; 

      Or they, who lose in crouded rooms, 

      Spring's tepid suns and balmy air, 

      And value Flora's fairest blooms, 

      But in proportion as they're rare; 

      Feel not the pensive pleasures known 

      To him, who, thro' the morning mist, 

      Explores the bowery shrubs new blown, 

      A moralizing Botanist. 

      He marks, with colours how profuse 

      Some are design'd to please the eye; 

      While beauty some combine with use, 

      In admirable harmony. 

      The fruit buds, shadow'd red and white, 

      Amid young leaves of April hue; 

      Convey sensations of delight, 

      And promise fruits autumnal too: 

      And, while the Thrush his home and food, 

      Hails, as the flowering thorns unfold, 

      And from its trunk of ebon wood, 

      Rears Cytisus its floating gold; 

      The Lilac, whose tall head discloses 

      Groups of such bright empurpled shade, 

      And snow-globes form'd of elfin roses, 

      Seem for exclusive beauty made: 

      Such too art thou; when light anew 

      Above the eastern hill is seen, 

      Thy buds, as fearful of the dew, 

      Still wear their sheltering veil of green. 

      But in the next more genial hour 

      Thy tender rose-shaped cups unfold, 

      And soon appears the perfect flower, 

      With ruby spots and threads of gold. 

      That short and fleeting hour gone by, 

      And even the slightest breath of air, 

      Scarce heard among thy leaves to sigh, 

      Or

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