In my two-part synopsis of Andrew Stuart (1800), I mentioned that the heroine Isabella improbably gets into a debate about whether novels were good or bad for society--while she is being kidnapped by the burly henchman working for a venal nobleman. In case you were not aware, many people, especially religious or conservative people, mistrusted novels, as I discussed in an earlier series of posts. There was a sort of moral panic around the dangers of novels. Well, this authoress has her characters discuss the dangers of novel-reading in an extended sequence which begins when the burly captor has to rest the horses and get some food at an inn. (He's been instructed to convey Isabella from London all the way to Wales). How will he prevent her for screaming for help when they stop the carriage?

    Mary Ann Hanway, a contemporary of Jane Austen, made her feelings clear about English involvement in the slave trade in her novel Andrew Stuart, the Northern Wanderer (1800), which I reviewed here. As I read and review the forgotten novels of the long eighteenth century, I always flag any mentions of slavery or the slave trade for the convenience of other researchers or readers who may be interested. The numerous examples I've found put paid to the notion that novelists such as Jane Austen couldn't touch on controversial topics. Specifically, it was not controversial to openly express abolitionist sentiments in your novel. 
    If it had been controversial for a female to speak up against the slave trade, you would think that the critics who reviewed these novels would have said so. I have yet to find a single example of this. Andrew Stuart was praised and well received in its day and the editorial against the slave trade is not mentioned in the reviews--because it was not at all unusual or objectionable. The European Review singled out “the very affecting story of Amantha” in Andrew Stuart for particular notice in its lengthy review, but did not mention the editorial against slavery embedded in that subplot.
    The excerpt below is from the backstory of the fair but unfortunate Amantha, who is asking for help from a wealthy noblewoman, and is relating the full story of her parents' marriage and her childhood. In her narrative, we learn that Amantha's father, wishing to provide for his family, takes a position serving on a ship deployed to Africa. 

     This post continues the synopsis of the long and complicated plot of Andrew Stuart, the Northern Wanderer (1800) by Mary Ann Hanway. I suggest you read the previous post before proceeding with this one.

    ​Our heroine Isabella has been whisked off to a remote castle in Wales by Lord Lorimore’s henchmen, still wearing her bridal attire and not knowing what happened to her would-be groom Andrew. The carriage ride takes several days and at one inn, Isabella engages in a lengthy debate with her captor about whether novels are damaging or good for society (as one does). We meet some comic lower-class characters on the trip. 
    When Isabella reaches the castle, which the depraved Lord Lorimore regularly uses for imprisoning refractory potential mistresses, he fortunately is not there. She’s greeted by his agent, the slimy lawyer Edward Engross, who offers her marriage. When she indignantly refuses (some more fine speeches here), he assaults her but she is rescued in the nick of time by a handsome young gentleman who was passing by with his hound and his hunting rifle, who heard her screams. He whisks her away and Engross is thwarted. Hanway withholds the name of this kind stranger, but it’s pretty easy to guess that it’s Andrew’s friend Charles Nesbit. He offers to take Isabella to a safe hiding place.

   I am reading novels which mention Mary Wollstonecraft, which means I will be reading novels by authors who can be broadly defined as conservative. Wollstonecraft is cited in these novels as an example to be avoided.
   Mary Anne Hanway’s huge four volume novel has got me thinking about which opinions and attitudes held by educated people of Austen’s day were coded as conservative or liberal. For example, you might assume conservatives were pro-slavery and progressives were abolitionist. It’s not that simple. Hanway champions many causes we would think of as progressive, but in this novel she clearly aligns herself with the establishment against the Jacobins. I’ll expand on that later. For now, let’s try and grapple with the many plots and characters of the sprawling epic that is Andrew Stuart, the Northern Wanderer. This is a long synopsis, but even so I haven’t fully shown how all the different plots end up tying together.
   ​   Andrew starts his life as a poor crofter’s son, herding sheep in the Scottish highlands. His grandfather was a Jacobite (not to be confused with a Jacobin), a follower of Bonnie Prince Charlie, and hence the family’s fortunes have suffered for backing the wrong political horse. So our hero is not of peasant stock, but still, Andrew (and the other main characters in this novel) start from the humblest of beginnings. He runs away from home at nine years old, eager to see the world beyond his little patch of the Highlands. Hanway notes that the Scottish peasantry willingly share their scanty meals with the boy in his travels, but once he reaches the great city, he’s in danger of starving to death. This is one of many occasions in the book when she praises common folk and excoriates the wealthy and privileged.