William Etty, RA, (British, 1789-1849)

Joan of Arc, on finding the sword she had dreamt of, in the church of St. Catherine de Fierbois, devotes herself and it to the service of God and her country

Joan of Arc, on finding the sword she had dreamt of, in the church of St. Catherine de Fierbois, devotes herself and it to the service of God and her country
oil on canvas
298 x 198cm (117 5/16 x 77 15/16in).

Provenance
According to Denis Farr, William Etty, London, 1958, the early provenance of the present lot is as follows:

Jointly purchased from the artist by Richard Colls, William Wethered and Charles W. Wass for £2,500, 1847
Sale, William Wethered, 8 March 1856, lot 150, as Joan of Arc finding the sword.
Sale, William Wethered, 27 February, 1858, lot 109.
Charles Read (possibly).
Sale, 18 May 1885, lot 244, Joan of Arc, bought by Bolton for 20 guineas.
Sale, H. S. Ashbee, 19 November 1900, lot 85, as Joan of Arc at the Tomb of Saint Denis, bought by Maple for 14 guineas.
Llantarnum Abbey.

Exhibited
London, Royal Academy, 1847, no. 123.
London, Society of Artists, London, 1849, no. VII.

Engraved by Charles Wentworth Wass, 1851.

The present work formed the left panel of a triptych that stretched across nearly the entire east wall of the Great Room within the Royal Academy of Arts summer exhibition in 1847. The three works were:
Joan of Arc, on finding the sword she had dreamt of, in the church of St. Catherine de Fierbois, devotes herself and it to the service of God and her country (no. 123, present lot), Joan of Arc makes a sortie from the gates of Orleans, and scatters the enemies of France (no 124, now in the collection of the Musée des Beaux-Arts d'Orléans), and Joan of Arc, after rendering the most signal services to her Prince and people, is suffered to die a martyr in their cause. (no. 125, location unknown).

Originally inspired by Etty's visit to Henry VII's Chapel within Westminster Abbey in 1839, the artist said that 'under the chivalric banners that hang there. Hearing the anthem sung, and looking towards the Grand Portal, I seemed to see her, in imagination.' The artist was to be haunted by this vision of Joan of Arc, so much so within weeks he had worked up the designs of his future triptych. Yet despite his impatience to create the final three large paintings of his colossal nine paintings – which included the Judith triptych, the Sirens and Ulysses, The Combat, and Benaiah – he wasn't to complete it until nearly eight years later. Beset by the increasing demands of his picture dealers, Etty was able to walk in the footsteps of his heroine by visiting France in 1843 with his friend John Woods, taking in Rouen, Paris, Orléans and Saint Denis. The 'pilgrimage' kindled his imagination as he soaked up the history of the areas, sketching as he went, and 'saw all the pictures related to her that had been done in modern times'. and set his thoughts on completing his last great works. As he himself said 'It was something to know you were on the spot where this Heroine trod, and exerted herself in the cause of her country'. It wasn't until a few years later in 1846, that Etty was able to seriously focus down on the three gigantic canvases with the aim of exhibiting them the next year. By this time, his own 'enemies' – those of a severe cough and difficulty breathing – were bearing heavily down on his efforts to complete the canvases. In that Winter, he became so obsessed with the task that he took to rising at five or six o'clock each morning in order to put in as many hours' work as possible. He was all this time reporting increasing affliction by attacks on his 'trachea, bronchial tubes, and throat – with cough and asthmatic accompaniments' and also 'rheumatism'. Yet, he rallied, 'fighting side by side by my inspiring Heroine, have [...] done wonders.'

In a letter from Etty, published in The Fine Arts Journal, he describes Joan of Arc as 'the Judith of modern times' with his triptych, 'like all my large pictures, point a great moral lesson to the mind'. In this case, 'the saint, the patriot, and the martyr – that heroic self-devotion to her country and her prince which has stamped her fame!'. In the first canvas, 'I suppose her to have found the sword she had seen in her dream, and invoking the inspiration from heaven which sustained her through her arduous course'. Voices had directed Joan to the church of St. Catherine de Fierbois to find a sword, to which she found the sword of Charles Martel, grandfather of Charlemagne, behind the altar. The hand raised in devotion is reminiscent of Etty's central panel for his Judith triptych exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1827 (now in a ruined state at the National Galleries Scotland) – where Judith raises her sword before beheading Holofernes. In terms of the model for Joan of Art, there is a letter dated 23 November 1845 referring to 'the young lady who so kindly sad' for the head of Joan of Arc. Gilchrist says that this young lady had first been seen in Westminster Abbey and had there struck his fancy as suitable for the head of his chosen heroine. He set his niece – Betsy – on the stranger's track, who traced her to Kensington. Eventually Etty was able to track down her father and received both his and her permission to sit, with the whole process costing him 'no small pain and embarrassment'. The young lady sat for him many times and was remembered for her remarkable 'spirit, colour and force'.

Upon exhibition at the Royal Academy, The Times described the expanse as 'instantly arresting the attention' upon entering the room with the 'character of the heroine under these different circumstances [...] preserved with extraordinary skill'. Etty's biographer Gilchrist stated that praise was received by 'lovers of Art, and brother Artists' alike, including Turner, Landseer and Leslie, among others'. Yet the overall Press reviews marks a mixed reaction, with the Examiner identifying the three paintings as the keynote to the whole exhibition, though the left panel 'except in the fine deep tone of colour that pervades it, the compartment on the spectator's left is a failure'. In reviewing the first compartment, the Art Union found the 'countenance shows much fervour and enthusiasm, without anything like theatrical extravagance'. This was a purposeful effect from Etty, who said in a letter that his heroine 'was not sufficiently excited' [as he] conceived her in possession of superior power'. The Literary Gazette noted that it was 'we think, the largest piece we ever saw in the Royal Academy [...] in the first compartment, the heroine wants dignity of person and countenance. The foreshortening from the waist downwards, makes her look short and dumpy'. However, The London Magazine commented that 'the sad episode of heroism [was] wonderfully told; the seizure of the sword is powerfully conceived; the grandeur of the sortie, and the devotedness of the heroine, as her charger gallops over the vanquished and slain foe; and the fervour of the dying heroine; - are all impressive beyond description. There may be defects of drawings in various points of the composition; but the colouring, especially of the flesh, is masterly; and there is a barbaric picturesqueness in the triple scene, which is a startling novelty in British art.'

Within ten days, of the work's presentation at the Royal Academy, the triptych had been purchased by C. W. Wass and Richard Colls for the mighty sum of 2,500 guineas, with designs on engraving the works for wider distribution and an ambitious, but failed, plan to tour the works around the country. Wass declared himself bankrupt in 1852; the three panels were subsequently separated and sold.

We are grateful to Dr Beatrice Bertram, York Art Gallery, for her assistance in cataloguing this lot.