In my mini-series on Mansfield Park and the topic of slavery, I shared examples of authors of Austen's era who were far more explicit about slavery than Austen. More recently, I came across the 1809 novel The Bristol Heiress by Eleanor Sleath and was curious to read it because it was about an heiress from Bristol. Bristol was notorious as a place where fortunes were made from the slave trade and related industries.
    While slavery does not play a role in the plot of The Bristol Heiress, two other families derive their wealth directly or indirectly from the slave trade, and another character gets a fortune from a rich relative in the East Indies. (For more about colonial wealth as a plot device, see this post.)
    I outline the plot of The Bristol Heiress here. I discuss the similarities to Northanger Abbey here. ​It's main theme is the moral pitfalls arising out of faulty education. But because the references to slavery in the book are both so jarring and so telling, I saved this topic to discuss separately. 
     If you'd like to read a fictional conversation about slavery published in 1809 which represents different points of view, including the point of view of a plantation-owner, read on. If you think it would distress you more than inform you, please don't read it. I have left out the worst of the worst.
      This conversation takes place in the "saloon" with the ladies, after the ladies and gentlemen have separated after dinner. The characters that author Eleanor Sleath brings together in the saloon are:

• Mrs. Trevallian, the wife of a wealthy West Indian planter who has recently returned to England “with all that showy magnificence usually displayed by those who, having suddenly become rich, are anxious to impress others;”
• Mrs. Wilkinson, a Bristol fabric merchant's wife, who is “ignorant, ill bred… [and] possessed of an intolerable share of confidence and self-conceit;”
• Lady Harcourt, a proud London aristocrat who is heavily in debt;
• Caroline Percival, the beautiful young heroine of the book. Her father is the host of the dinner party and he's still at the dining-table with the gentlemen. Caroline is the youngest person in the conversation and she is under Lady Harcourt's sway and tutelage; and
• an unnamed lady.  

       The conversation starts with Mrs. Trevallian bragging about her life back in the West Indies: "her extensive rooms, her costly carpets, and her gilded sofas, the number of her carriages, of her servants; her train of black slaves …” She boasts to the aristocrat: “''You would be charmed, my dear Lady Harcourt, with that enchanting island, where money, you know, can procure one everything tasteful and elegant from London, without being incommoded by the English impertinence of one’s attendants.'”
     Lady Harcourt, though very irritated, says nothing because a "description of her own house and establishment, splendid as it was, would appear insignificant, after that of Mrs. Trevallian.... A mortified silence, therefore, succeeded on the part of Lady Harcourt, which was interrupted… by Mrs. Wilkinson’s demanding of Mrs. Trevallian, whether she could abide to be waited upon by those blacks she had mentioned?”
      “'Frightful creatures!' [says Mrs. Wilkinson] ''I would rather die than take any thing from their hands, for I am sure they are not the same flesh and blood as we are.'”
      “'Dear Mrs. Wilkinson,' cried a stiff maiden-lady of about five-and-fifty, who was known to be a great reader, and who, though she had never before spoke, had paid great attention to Mrs. Trevallian’s relation, 'I wonder you can talk so; you forget, it seems, that they are all God’s creatures as well as we are, and that they are only distinguished from us by a difference of colour.'”
​    Mrs. Wilkinson and Mrs. Trevallian both deny the equality of black people, and Mrs. Trevallian adds, "'I am much surprised our legislators should be absurd enough to suppose them otherwise,'” a reference to the on-going Parliamentary debates around the abolition of slavery. (This book was published two years after the abolition of the slave trade, but not the abolition of slavery in British territories.)
     “'But you will allow, Madam,' said Caroline, who had felt a sensation little short of horror, on hearing Mrs. Trevallian express herself in a manner so unfeeling towards these unfortunates of the human race, 'that their treatment has been sometimes very cruel…”
    The plantation-owner’s wife protests that reports of the harsh treatment have been exaggerated and furthermore, harsh treatment is necessary. She refers to enslaved persons as "poor wretches" but adds  "'severity is the only discipline that can be used with effect'" because without the use of force, "'whence must we procure our sugars, and a thousand other necessaries? Where all our comforts, all our luxuries?'”
    “'Where indeed?'” echoes Mrs. Wilkinson, declaring she wouldn’t give up sugar “'for all the black-a-moors in the kingdom.'”
    "The old maiden-lady, who had first undertaken to defend the cause of humanity, darted a look of severe contempt at Mrs. Wilkinson, and then, addressing herself to a lady who sat next her, she entered with her into a discussion on the merits of a new novel, which continued till coffee was brought in, when the entrance of the gentlemen, and the arrangement of card-tables, led to other subjects of discourse."
       These other subjects of discourse include playing cards for high stakes, and the affectation of learning Italian.

    There is a second, brief, allusion to the West Indies in Volume I.
  Mrs. Trevallian complains again about the insolence and independent spirit of English servants. “'a dismissal from our service is the only punishment we can inflict. How different is the situation of those menials who are doomed to attend us abroad! A woman may there be said to reign with an absolute dominion… her power is uncontrolled, her will her only law.'"
   Lady Harcourt snaps back that she "‘had rather enjoy a limited, yet secure government in my own country, over free men, than an arbitrary, yet dangerous one, in the West Indies, over a wretched parcel of negro slaves.'” (By "government," she means her own authority over her servants and by "dangerous," she is referring to the possibility of a slave uprising.)
    Caroline's father cheerfully supposes that Caroline will have at least one black servant to attend her after she makes a good marriage, in addition to "half a dozen European ones, with gold-laced liveries."​

      There is a lot more for academics to work with in these conversations from The Bristol Heiress than a "dead silence" in Austen. Lady Harcourt, Mrs. Wilkinson and Mrs. Trevallian are portrayed as contemptible people in this conversation, and they are portrayed as contemptible people whenever they appear in the book. The reader is not expected to pass over what they say with indifference. On the other hand, this conversation, as I mentioned, is far from being a focus of the book. It's just another proof that these ladies are contemptible. ​Lady Harcourt is contemptible because she is a haughty aristocrat who doesn't pay her bills and who lives only for fashion and society. Mrs. Wilkinson and Mrs. Trevallian have been granted a place in the social pecking order because they are rich, but we are invited to look down on them first and foremost because they are vulgar social climbers with lots of money but no breeding. Looking at the conversation about slavery in this context, we see that their attitude toward slavery is presented as an example of their vulgarity.
   The two characters who speak in defense of enslaved persons are Caroline and the "old maiden-lady." Caroline is a young person still making her way in society and she is shown as being tender-hearted and appalled by what she is hearing. But what about the "stiff maiden lady" who "had undertaken to defend the cause of humanity?" In my opinion, the character of the "stiff maiden lady" is not a particularly flattering one. Why does Sleath specify that she is "stiff" and "old" and unmarried? She is "known to be a great reader." Perhaps this is a suggestion that she parrots her ideas from books.
​      Sleath does not even bother to give her a name, and she does not appear anywhere else in the five volumes of The Bristol Heiress. Perhaps she, too, represents a stock character, the Abolitionist do-gooder who is as much a object of satire as the planter's wife. I get the feeling that this is a portrait that Sleath's contemporary readers were expected to recognize.
   I also think this conversation could be usefully compared to the brief exchange between Jane Fairfax and Mrs. Elton, the Bristol merchant's daughter, in Emma. I think the character of Mrs. Elton is derived from the stock character of the vulgar Bristol merchant's wife who appears in this and other novels. Mrs. Elton is also "possessed of an intolerable share of confidence and self-conceit." 
    I have found only one reference to The Bristol Heiress in the current academic literature, and it is a reference to the use of the word 'verandah.' I think an examination of this conversation, by these characters, would be useful.

    The conversations cited are from Volume I of The Bristol Heiress by Eleanor Sleath, pps 42 to 48 and 140 to 142.

The immortals and the others
​  Jane Austen's nephew wrote about his aunt's modest reputation in his lifetime: "Sometimes a friend or neighbour, who chanced to know of our connection with the author, would condescend to speak with moderate approbation of Sense and Sensibility, or Pride and Prejudice; but if they had known that we, in our secret thoughts, classed her with Madame D’Arblay or Miss Edgeworth, or even with some other novel writers of the day whose names are now scarcely remembered, they would have considered it an amusing instance of family conceit.  To the multitude her works appeared tame and common-place, poor in colouring, and sadly deficient in incident and interest."
    George Howard, Earl of Carlisle, an early fan of Austen's, wrote the following tribute in 1835. Addressing a female reader, Howard writes:
​
​   ​​Beats thy quick pulse o'er Inchbald's thrilling leaf,
   Brunton's high moral, Opies's deep wrought grief?
   Has the mild chaperon claimed thy yielding heart,
   Caroll's dark page, Trevelyan's gentle art?
   Or is it thou, all perfect Austen? Here
   Let one poor wreath adorn thy early bier
   That scarce allowed thy youth to claim
   Its living portion of thy certain fame
  
​   Every other author mentioned above would be known today to very few; only to people who specialize in reading 18th century literature. Everyone knows Jane Austen's name.
      It ain't just about being old. It's about being excellent.

 Excellent or not; it's interesting
    One consequence of this winnowing-out of hundreds of other 18th century authors, is that we don’t read Austen in the same context and we do not make the same comparisons her first readers did. Except for scholars and other aficionados of 18th century novels, we don’t read the books Austen read. (Those of us who do, most likely picked up the bug after reading Austen.)  As I've discussed in previous posts, many talk about Austen's focus on money or social class as though this was something unique to her, when it wasn't.
    I have been delving into these now-obscure authors and sharing my discoveries and thoughts on this blog. I've been learning about recurring novelistic tropes such as (death, coincidence, misunderstanding and rich uncles) and I've met some stock characters.
    I first began reading these obscure books to research the question: "Was it controversial or dangerous to discuss slavery back in Jane Austen's time?"  I suspected the answer was "no," but I wanted to check for myself. (The answer is indeed "no"). For those who read literature for social history, I have found many authors who were more explicit about social issues than Austen was. Within the pages of these novels I've found authorial voices speaking out against slavery, dueling, gambling, corrupt aristocrats, forced marriage, the military establishment, cock-fighting, religious fanaticism, and a host of social evils and excesses. Within these pages, I've learned more about how our values have evolved.
    And I've read opinions which would jar on modern sensibilities. I've wondered if these authors were reflecting widely-held ideas or if they were censoring themselves in some respects. Speaking of the "values" that are in these "old books," did anyone seriously expect young women to behave like "perfect heroines" in real life?
    I have learned about authors whose life stories--insofar as we know their life stories from the scanty records--are inspiring and touching.
​    But, in case you were wondering, I haven't yet found a forgotten author whose talent, in my opinion, approaches Austen.