Summary
The speaker says that he has now backtracked and gone back over his past like a river reversing course, but that he will now begin again with new stories. He lived freely in London, never involving himself in society but instead observing at a distance. Without much sadness, after a year he departed for France in order to improve his French-speaking skills, choosing to live in a city on the banks of the Loire river. At first, he spent some time in Paris, visiting famous landmarks and neighborhoods, and watching earnest revolutionaries plot and fight among themselves. The city was an emotionally and politically charged place to be. He visited the now-defunct Bastille, picking up a stone to keep as a souvenir but not feeling as much emotion as he longed to. In fact, the sight of the former prison moved him less than a painting he saw, "The Repentant Magdalen" by Charles Le Brun. After leaving Paris he headed to his new home, where he first found himself interested by everyday customs and culture rather than revolutionary politics. At the time he had read a little bit about the cause and considered himself broadly supportive, but wasn't viscerally devoted to it yet. Eventually, he became a "patriot," a transition deeply tied to his love of the French people.
A number of nobly-born military officers were stationed in the speaker's city, and he fell in with this crowd, although almost all of them were royalists who desired the reversal of the recent political changes in the country and were prepared to go to battle to defend the old regime. They had no fear that anything worse could befall them, because they believed that the worst possible reality had come to pass already. They knew that the young Wordsworth was generally supportive of the Revolution, but were untroubled by this political difference because of his youth and his foreignness. One of the officers seemed to have been entirely destroyed, physically and emotionally, by the political turmoil surrounding him. But this was not unusual: regardless of one's beliefs, France was a wildly agitated, uneasy place at the time. Among the group of royalist-leaning officers in town, there was a single man who shared the speaker's political beliefs and became an especially close friend of his. The speaker's political beliefs at the time stemmed less from strong feelings about France's political situation specifically, and more from broad moral convictions akin to those one might feel when reading a dramatic story. During his youth in rural England, he was not taught to value noble birth or wealth. Even at Cambridge, he felt ensconced in a kind of sheltered realm of equality, where scholarly achievement was more important than high birth. As a result, he felt a natural distaste for the French monarchy and nobility. He felt it was not merely good but in fact inevitable for people to be equal and to have a say in their government. Meanwhile, the speaker was deeply moved and distressed by the farewells he witnessed around him, as young men departed to fight and even give their lives for the cause of the Revolution.
The speaker befriended one officer among the broader group. This one had been born into nobility but now sided with the Republicans, and as a result was disliked by his peers. This officer was a man of kindness and integrity, and he would talk at length to the speaker about the goals of government and the rights of man. They enjoyed discussing the flaws of the French monarchy, but also believed in the natural goodness and fairness of humanity. The speaker's friend shared his faith in the moral triumph of all people, even the least educated or sophisticated. The speaker compares his friend to Dion, a martyred ancient Greek philosopher. His friend, who was named Beaupuis, also died fighting for liberty. This may be for the best, the speaker reflects, since he never had to witness the eventual downfall of the Revolution. The two men would walk in the peaceful woods, and the speaker's imagination would run wild with thoughts of mythological characters, hermits, and knights walking through similar landscapes. But as much as the forests excited him, the abandoned convents he found saddened him—the revolutionary feat of abolishing monastic life did not sit well with the speaker. Yet other sights reinforced his faith in the revolutionary cause, especially the sight of a starving girl. Beaupuis assured the speaker that nobody need starve in the just world being created, and that people would have justice and dignity. The cruel punishment and imprisonment that had once been common in France would cease. Next, as an example of the ways in which social hierarchy and cruelty can harm individuals, the speaker tells the story of a pair of lovers named Vaudracour and Julia. Despite having grown up together, Julia was of low birth and Vaudracour of high birth. When they fell in love, Vaudracour's father forbade them to marry. However, Julia became pregnant with Vaudracour's child. Her parents sent her to live with a faraway family until her child was born in order to hide her out-of-wedlock pregnancy. Vaudracour repeatedly attempted to run away to her, at times succeeding and becoming beloved by the family with whom she lived. However, his rigid father repeatedy thwarted his attempts to stay with Julia. After her child was born, Julia's family sent her to a convent. Vaudracour persuaded his father to let him live alone in an isolated home with only his child and one servant. However, the child died, perhaps because of an oversight on Vaudracour's part. Devastated, Vaudracour never spoke another word out loud. Even the coming of liberty was too late to save him. The speaker says that Beaupuis and the other men who recounted this story, some of whom had been witnesses to it, were so moved that they wept as they spoke.
Analysis
A huge chunk of this book is taken up by the story of Julia and Vaudracour, although this is true only in the 1805 edition: in the 1850 one, the story shrinks to a short summary. In the meantime, Wordsworth republished the story in 1820 as a separate, standalone work. We can analyze it through three revealing lenses. One is through the lens of the French Revolution and politics: how do Vaudracour and Julia represent the people of France? Another is through the lens of Wordsworth's own life: do the young people in the story stand in for Wordsworth himself? The third is through the lens of orality and storytelling: how do Wordsworth's rhetorical tricks for reporting the story reflect broader beliefs and interests about speech, writing, and narrative?
The most immediately obvious reading of the Julia and Vaudracour story is that it is a protest poem of sorts, in which the idealistic young people stand in for France's freedom fighters. Vaudracour comes from the upper classes, and is forced to go against his own family and community in order to exercise his liberty. It's evident that Wordsworth feels slightly more interested in Vaudracour than he does in Julia, who is not nobly born and does not have to violate her own familial norms in the same way that her lover does. Wordsworth is consistently interested in, and admiring of, people who sacrifice their own self-interest and status for the sake of love or principles. In this sense, Vaudracour echoes Beaupuis, the speaker's own friend, who is shunned by his fellow officers because he chooses principles of liberty over the old social order. In a broader sense, Vaudracour and Julia reflect the consequences of France's brutal social order, with its arbitrariness, cruelty, and rigidity: Vaudracour's father stands in for that social order, or for its enforcers, the French monarchy. What is most striking about this story is the fact that Vaudracour suffers as much as, if not more than, Julia. This implies that France's social and political system is as cruel for the people at the top as it is for those at the bottom. In other words, the injustice of the absolute monarchy robs all French people of their dignity, regardless of their individual identity or status. The story also discusses France's norms and rules through a highly specific, personal story. The speaker himself notes that, while he is left cold by the sight of the Bastille, he is moved by a work of art. He finds that he is able to care deeply about the Revolution only when he develops a love for the people involved. Therefore, when talking about the formation of his views, it makes perfect sense for Wordsworth to use narrative—a love story—rather than straightforward political argument or historical facts.
It's also possible to understand the story as a veiled retelling of Wordsworth's own affair with Annette Vallon. In fact, some scholars have suggested that the entire reason he removed most of the story from the Prelude is because it too closely resembled a highly sensitive story from his life. While living in Orleans, France, Wordsworth fell in love with Vallon. Not a great deal is known about their relationship; only a few affectionate letters from Vallon to Wordsworth survive. What is known is that Vallon became pregnant, and the two traveled to a small town, Blois, perhaps to avoid scrutiny. In fact, it was in Blois that Wordsworth met Michel Beaupuis, the idealistic revolutionary he describes so affectionately. However, Wordsworth left Vallon in France in order to seek employment in England. While he was in England, Vallon gave birth to their daughter Caroline—and the outbreak of war between England and revolutionary France permanently separated the couple. While Vallon isn't explicitly mentioned in the Prelude, those who consider the Vaudracour and Julia story to be an autobiographical one believe that she is referenced implicitly.
Finally, it's revealing to look at the way Wordsworth frames this story. He places emphasis on the way in which the story was relayed to him: through testimony from people who witnessed it in person. One of the ways that Wordsworth tries to increase readers' interest and investment in the story is by explaining how deeply moved these witnesses were, even when recalling it years later. This is one of many places in the Prelude where the poet links oral narrative to authenticity, trustworthiness, and emotional immediacy. Wordsworth and his contemporaries were intrigued by folklore and concerned with the role of speech in a world increasingly dominated by writing. Here, Wordsworth seems to find that writing on its own isn't quite sufficient to make his point or to convey the emotion that he's aiming for. He borrows from and refers to a verbal story, using it to strengthen and intensify the moment.
