| This blog explores social attitudes in Jane Austen's time, discusses her novels, reviews forgotten 18th century novels, and throws some occasional shade at the modern academy. The introductory post is here. My "six simple questions for academics" post is here. |
CMP#172 The History of Charlotte Summers, the Fortunate Parish Girl (1749)
Charlotte Summers frontispiece, detail Charlotte Summers “is perhaps the earliest prototype of this story of the lost daughter," says scholar Ruth Perry. In this novel you can find the themes and tropes which preoccupied British literature for the next century. In fact, this type of novel was thoroughly satirized by the writer Robert Charles Maturin in an article for the British Critic. This plot seems to have predominated in the latter half of the 17th century:
- Friendless, orphaned girl is thrown upon an uncaring world. Her backstory involves a lot of bad luck and death.
- She is beautiful, accomplished, devout, and virtuous.
- She fends off unwanted male attention, up to and including assault.
- She is pressured to accept an unwanted suitor, or is accused of trying to ensnare a man.
- She turns down a marriage proposal from a suitor who is much beneath her in education, intelligence, or social standing.
- Despite her perilous or lowly condition, she refuses to marry for money, or give her hand without her heart.
- Other women are jealous and behave spitefully towards her.
- She gets into trouble with the law although she is completely innocent.
- She has to move from place to place when her situation becomes untenable.
- A happy coincidental reunion restores her to her family or to her familial rights.
- She marries the man she loves.
Our story begins:
Lady Bountiful is out walking when she sees a beautiful child with golden curls wearing the rough, plain uniform of a child living on parish relief. She talks to the child and becomes convinced that she must be from a good family and has unaccountably ended up in this dire situation. The author gives us a Dickensian or Hogarthian picture of the neglect and abuse suffered by children “on the parish.” It’s clear that Charlotte might not survive her childhood if she remains where she is, so Lady Bountiful impulsively takes her home and semi-adopts her. This, despite the fact that Lady B has a kind-hearted, handsome young son. Sir Thomas (who has inherited his late father’s baronetcy) is about the same age as Charlotte.
Charlotte is suitably grateful, and she takes advantage of the good education she receives. We have an early precursor of Mansfield Park, in that for a time a member of the household, Mrs. Eggleston, despises Charlotte and is miserable to her, Aunt Norris-style. Mrs. Eggleston convinces the gullible Lady B that Charlotte is a sneak thief, and Lady B casts the weeping little girl out of the household. Lady B’s clergyman gives her refuge until the "stolen" items are discovered in Mrs. Eggleston’s cupboard, then Charlotte is recalled, to the joy of Sir Thomas, who calls her “his little wife.”
Charlotte is such a saintly child that she pleads for pardon for Mrs. Eggleston: “I hope,” says she, “Lady Bountiful has not turned her out of the House, I should be very sorry for her; for though she hated me, yet I never wished her any Harm, and I could fall down on my Knees to beg Lady Bountiful to forgive her.” But the “malicious, designing Termagant” is banished and disappears from the story. She lives on, however, in the character of Aunt Norris, and in children's literature as Miss Minchin in A Little Princess (1902) and Miss Slighcarp in The Wolves of Willoughby Chase (1962).
Lady Bountiful is out walking when she sees a beautiful child with golden curls wearing the rough, plain uniform of a child living on parish relief. She talks to the child and becomes convinced that she must be from a good family and has unaccountably ended up in this dire situation. The author gives us a Dickensian or Hogarthian picture of the neglect and abuse suffered by children “on the parish.” It’s clear that Charlotte might not survive her childhood if she remains where she is, so Lady Bountiful impulsively takes her home and semi-adopts her. This, despite the fact that Lady B has a kind-hearted, handsome young son. Sir Thomas (who has inherited his late father’s baronetcy) is about the same age as Charlotte.
Charlotte is suitably grateful, and she takes advantage of the good education she receives. We have an early precursor of Mansfield Park, in that for a time a member of the household, Mrs. Eggleston, despises Charlotte and is miserable to her, Aunt Norris-style. Mrs. Eggleston convinces the gullible Lady B that Charlotte is a sneak thief, and Lady B casts the weeping little girl out of the household. Lady B’s clergyman gives her refuge until the "stolen" items are discovered in Mrs. Eggleston’s cupboard, then Charlotte is recalled, to the joy of Sir Thomas, who calls her “his little wife.”
Charlotte is such a saintly child that she pleads for pardon for Mrs. Eggleston: “I hope,” says she, “Lady Bountiful has not turned her out of the House, I should be very sorry for her; for though she hated me, yet I never wished her any Harm, and I could fall down on my Knees to beg Lady Bountiful to forgive her.” But the “malicious, designing Termagant” is banished and disappears from the story. She lives on, however, in the character of Aunt Norris, and in children's literature as Miss Minchin in A Little Princess (1902) and Miss Slighcarp in The Wolves of Willoughby Chase (1962).
Image created with Bing AI Charlotte’s mother’s backstory
Something fortunate occurs: Charlotte’s mother’s faithful servant comes back from an extended visit to her family and tracks Charlotte down. We learn of Charlotte’s unfortunate backstory through Margery’s garrulous narration. Charlotte’s mother was orphaned as a young woman and married a fortune hunter (Irish, I need hardly say), who blew through her inheritance. She was reduced to painting fans to support herself and living in cheap lodgings. The faithful Margery learns that her absentee husband was lying ill in another part of town because he's caught the clap from one of his doxies.
The loyal wife pawns two of her remaining nice gowns to raise money and rushes off to see him. She puts up with everything and only protests when she learns that he plans to disavow their marriage so he can marry another girl to get his hands on another dowry.
“Ah cruel Man,” cried she, “is it not enough that you have squandered away my Infant’s substance... must you add Infamy to Want, proclaim me a Prostitute and the little Innocent a Bastard; Oh my God how shall I endure it... I could die to make him easy, renounce all Claim to his Person, but I cannot live with Infamy, or suffer my Child, the first dear Pledge of our mutual Happiness, to be stained with Bastardy.”
After literally showing up with the bailiffs to take away all the remaining furniture to sell, Charlotte’s father disappears from the scene. Her mother declines and dies, and that’s how Charlotte ended up on parish relief.
Something fortunate occurs: Charlotte’s mother’s faithful servant comes back from an extended visit to her family and tracks Charlotte down. We learn of Charlotte’s unfortunate backstory through Margery’s garrulous narration. Charlotte’s mother was orphaned as a young woman and married a fortune hunter (Irish, I need hardly say), who blew through her inheritance. She was reduced to painting fans to support herself and living in cheap lodgings. The faithful Margery learns that her absentee husband was lying ill in another part of town because he's caught the clap from one of his doxies.
The loyal wife pawns two of her remaining nice gowns to raise money and rushes off to see him. She puts up with everything and only protests when she learns that he plans to disavow their marriage so he can marry another girl to get his hands on another dowry.
“Ah cruel Man,” cried she, “is it not enough that you have squandered away my Infant’s substance... must you add Infamy to Want, proclaim me a Prostitute and the little Innocent a Bastard; Oh my God how shall I endure it... I could die to make him easy, renounce all Claim to his Person, but I cannot live with Infamy, or suffer my Child, the first dear Pledge of our mutual Happiness, to be stained with Bastardy.”
After literally showing up with the bailiffs to take away all the remaining furniture to sell, Charlotte’s father disappears from the scene. Her mother declines and dies, and that’s how Charlotte ended up on parish relief.
Image created by Bing AI Charlotte as a young woman Content warning
Once Charlotte is in her mid-teens, she is an absolutely gorgeous little bundle who attract the attentions of a houseguest, Mr. Crofts. The author’s description of his attempt to have his way with her is more explicit and ribald than the decorous off-stage doings in Austen: “The Moon shone bright through two large Holes in the Shutters of each Window, neither the Curtains of the Bed, nor Window-Curtains being drawn, as it was in the Heat of Summer, and the Weather extremely hot, so that the enamour’d Crofts had a full view of his Prey, as she lay with her Face towards the Bed-side, her Head reclining upon one Hand, her Bosom bare, and the Cloaths almost down to her Middle. The Enchanting Beauties of what he saw, were sufficient to have kindled Desire in an Anchorite…”
Luckily, Charlotte wakes up, screams and summons help.
Lady Bountiful feels that the best thing to do in this situation is hush the whole matter up, because even though Charlotte escaped ravishment, if word gets out, her reputation is ruined anyway. She allows Mr. Crofts to continue as her houseguest. Mr. Crofts, repentant, says he will marry Charlotte and Lady B urges our heroine to marry her attacker. Charlotte pleads that her “Benefactress, whose pious Care has redeem’d me from Wretchedness,[and] has instilled into me a Notion of Virtue and the Honour of my Sex, will not now insist upon making me miserable with the Man I loath.” “No, replied Lady Bountiful, embracing her kindly, “I don’t intend to force your Inclination; I love that Pride which, if not carried into Extremes, is the Ornament as well as Safeguard of our Sex; but if the Idea of that rash action is so much at present, my Dear, in your Memory, you carry your Resentment too far. Time and the Gentleman’s respectful Behaviour will wear it off…”
It is ghastly to think that this kind of thinking is still extant in some cultures. Charlotte even calls the offer “legal prostitution.”
When Sir Thomas returns from a hunting party and hears what has happened, he attacks Mr. Crofts. Due to a servant's erroneous report, Charlotte thinks Mr. Crofts has murdered Mr. Goodheart, the household steward. “[T]he Horror and Surprize was too quick for her Spirits; she fell into a deep Swoon, after uttering, in a very melancholy Tone, --Alas, the good Man has got his death for my sake --She continued out of one Fit into another for near two Hours, and when able to breathe, was in a high and delirious Fever.” Too late, the impetuous Sir Thomas comes to realize that his very public actions have brought notoriety on the girl he loves.
When Charlotte recovers her health, she does not regain her peace of mind. Lady B blames her for trying to angle for Sir Thomas, when the truth is Charlotte absolutely refuses to marry him, because it would be an act of ingratitude toward Lady B. Charlotte knows Lady B has no intention of marrying her, a nobody, to her baronet son. Sir Thomas is miserable, and when a servant mistakenly thinks, and hints to Charlotte, that Sir Thomas is planning to visit her bedroom to force his attentions on her, she flees the house.
Once Charlotte is in her mid-teens, she is an absolutely gorgeous little bundle who attract the attentions of a houseguest, Mr. Crofts. The author’s description of his attempt to have his way with her is more explicit and ribald than the decorous off-stage doings in Austen: “The Moon shone bright through two large Holes in the Shutters of each Window, neither the Curtains of the Bed, nor Window-Curtains being drawn, as it was in the Heat of Summer, and the Weather extremely hot, so that the enamour’d Crofts had a full view of his Prey, as she lay with her Face towards the Bed-side, her Head reclining upon one Hand, her Bosom bare, and the Cloaths almost down to her Middle. The Enchanting Beauties of what he saw, were sufficient to have kindled Desire in an Anchorite…”
Luckily, Charlotte wakes up, screams and summons help.
Lady Bountiful feels that the best thing to do in this situation is hush the whole matter up, because even though Charlotte escaped ravishment, if word gets out, her reputation is ruined anyway. She allows Mr. Crofts to continue as her houseguest. Mr. Crofts, repentant, says he will marry Charlotte and Lady B urges our heroine to marry her attacker. Charlotte pleads that her “Benefactress, whose pious Care has redeem’d me from Wretchedness,[and] has instilled into me a Notion of Virtue and the Honour of my Sex, will not now insist upon making me miserable with the Man I loath.” “No, replied Lady Bountiful, embracing her kindly, “I don’t intend to force your Inclination; I love that Pride which, if not carried into Extremes, is the Ornament as well as Safeguard of our Sex; but if the Idea of that rash action is so much at present, my Dear, in your Memory, you carry your Resentment too far. Time and the Gentleman’s respectful Behaviour will wear it off…”
It is ghastly to think that this kind of thinking is still extant in some cultures. Charlotte even calls the offer “legal prostitution.”
When Sir Thomas returns from a hunting party and hears what has happened, he attacks Mr. Crofts. Due to a servant's erroneous report, Charlotte thinks Mr. Crofts has murdered Mr. Goodheart, the household steward. “[T]he Horror and Surprize was too quick for her Spirits; she fell into a deep Swoon, after uttering, in a very melancholy Tone, --Alas, the good Man has got his death for my sake --She continued out of one Fit into another for near two Hours, and when able to breathe, was in a high and delirious Fever.” Too late, the impetuous Sir Thomas comes to realize that his very public actions have brought notoriety on the girl he loves.
When Charlotte recovers her health, she does not regain her peace of mind. Lady B blames her for trying to angle for Sir Thomas, when the truth is Charlotte absolutely refuses to marry him, because it would be an act of ingratitude toward Lady B. Charlotte knows Lady B has no intention of marrying her, a nobody, to her baronet son. Sir Thomas is miserable, and when a servant mistakenly thinks, and hints to Charlotte, that Sir Thomas is planning to visit her bedroom to force his attentions on her, she flees the house.
Image created by Bing AI Hideout at the farmhouse
Charlotte intends to make her way to London (for at least she as a little money and some valuables) and find a job. She is waylaid by robbers but rescued from assault and robbery by a kindly farmer who takes her home to wait for the next weekly stage. She is grateful for her escape, even though the farmer and his family are clodpoles. In no time, trouble rears its ugly head when an oafish neighbour, plus the oafish farmer’s son, both propose marriage to her: “When shall we send to the Clerk to proclaim the Banns,” exclaims one; “do let it be in a short Time, for I’m a woundy Hurry, till you and I get between a Pair of Sheets: Odds-bodikins!”
She proudly refuses the offers. Out of resentment, and with an eye on her money and valuables, the farmer’s wife and her sister falsely accuse Charlotte of being a thief. How else could she have come by ten golden guineas? She is hauled off to a magistrate, Mr. Easy, who swiftly decides in her favour and Mrs. Easy takes Charlotte under her wing.
Meanwhile, Sir Thomas is searching for her everywhere. Here actually, we have a reverse of the common situation where the hero is falsely led to doubt the purity of the heroine: Sir Thomas is in anguish that “the lovely Maid must abhor me” because “she has gone with the damn’d Impression that I am a villain, a base Ravisher, and an Enemy to her spotless Innocence.”
Charlotte still wants to go to London and find a job, so Mrs. Easy sends her off to a friend in London with a recommendation for work as a lady’s maid. Through no fault of Charlotte’s, this position falls through and she’s friendless and alone in London, where it seems every landlady she turns to is a bawd in disguise who wants to sell her to the highest bidder. Her false friends rob her and trick her into becoming indebted to them for rent, then throw her in debtor’s prison. But Charlotte asks the bailiff’s wife to supply her with sewing materials and she sets about earning a living by embroidering aprons.
Charlotte intends to make her way to London (for at least she as a little money and some valuables) and find a job. She is waylaid by robbers but rescued from assault and robbery by a kindly farmer who takes her home to wait for the next weekly stage. She is grateful for her escape, even though the farmer and his family are clodpoles. In no time, trouble rears its ugly head when an oafish neighbour, plus the oafish farmer’s son, both propose marriage to her: “When shall we send to the Clerk to proclaim the Banns,” exclaims one; “do let it be in a short Time, for I’m a woundy Hurry, till you and I get between a Pair of Sheets: Odds-bodikins!”
She proudly refuses the offers. Out of resentment, and with an eye on her money and valuables, the farmer’s wife and her sister falsely accuse Charlotte of being a thief. How else could she have come by ten golden guineas? She is hauled off to a magistrate, Mr. Easy, who swiftly decides in her favour and Mrs. Easy takes Charlotte under her wing.
Meanwhile, Sir Thomas is searching for her everywhere. Here actually, we have a reverse of the common situation where the hero is falsely led to doubt the purity of the heroine: Sir Thomas is in anguish that “the lovely Maid must abhor me” because “she has gone with the damn’d Impression that I am a villain, a base Ravisher, and an Enemy to her spotless Innocence.”
Charlotte still wants to go to London and find a job, so Mrs. Easy sends her off to a friend in London with a recommendation for work as a lady’s maid. Through no fault of Charlotte’s, this position falls through and she’s friendless and alone in London, where it seems every landlady she turns to is a bawd in disguise who wants to sell her to the highest bidder. Her false friends rob her and trick her into becoming indebted to them for rent, then throw her in debtor’s prison. But Charlotte asks the bailiff’s wife to supply her with sewing materials and she sets about earning a living by embroidering aprons.
Image created by Bing AI The wheel of fortune turns:
Charlotte is at her lowest ebb when she is rescued by kind people who hear of her travails, get her stolen money back, and find her a home with a nice, respectable woman, Mrs. Morgan. Two years pass. And…
Guess who shows up, fabulously rich, and very repentant, after a stint in the East Indies under an assumed name? It’s dad! Captain Ainsworth, actually Captain Summers! Father and daughter are reunited.
The author announces, “After conducting my fair Parish Girl through various Distresses and Dangers, I have at last landed her safe at her Father’s House to the Enjoyment of the utmost Prosperity and Grandeur,” then he acknowledges the convention of the convenient Death: "it is Time to provide her with a Husband, and as my other Heroine the Lady Bountiful is grown pretty old and stands much in my way, it is full Time to think of sending her to her Grave, at least I am sure [her son] Sir Thomas thinks so… [but] these things are Matters of great Moment, and require a good deal of necessary Preparation; For old as she is, I cannot knock the good Lady on the Head without some little Ceremony…”
The author playfully invents a dialogue with one of his readers, a Widow Lackit, (Lack It. Get it?) who complains “it’s contrary to all Rule to end a History of this Kind, without marrying the Hero and Heroine.” But now, explains the author, “the Parish Girl has grown a rich Heiress, and followed by a Regiment of Feathers, Ribbons, Titles Coronets and powder’d Toopees…” Charlotte now outranks a mere baronet. Even Lady Bountiful, who is ashamed of being “the only Cause of all [Charlotte’s] sufferings” admits that Charlotte “honoured [her son] in accepting of his Alliance.”
Both Sir Thomas and Lady Bountiful apologize to Charlotte for what she’s suffered since she had to escape their home. “Don’t torment yourself,” [replies our heroine], “with what I suffered, it was the Will of Providence, that I should suffer, and I am far from regretting it, since by it I have been confirmed in the Paths of Honour, and have learned the intrinsic Excellence of a steady Virtue.”
Charlotte is at her lowest ebb when she is rescued by kind people who hear of her travails, get her stolen money back, and find her a home with a nice, respectable woman, Mrs. Morgan. Two years pass. And…
Guess who shows up, fabulously rich, and very repentant, after a stint in the East Indies under an assumed name? It’s dad! Captain Ainsworth, actually Captain Summers! Father and daughter are reunited.
The author announces, “After conducting my fair Parish Girl through various Distresses and Dangers, I have at last landed her safe at her Father’s House to the Enjoyment of the utmost Prosperity and Grandeur,” then he acknowledges the convention of the convenient Death: "it is Time to provide her with a Husband, and as my other Heroine the Lady Bountiful is grown pretty old and stands much in my way, it is full Time to think of sending her to her Grave, at least I am sure [her son] Sir Thomas thinks so… [but] these things are Matters of great Moment, and require a good deal of necessary Preparation; For old as she is, I cannot knock the good Lady on the Head without some little Ceremony…”
The author playfully invents a dialogue with one of his readers, a Widow Lackit, (Lack It. Get it?) who complains “it’s contrary to all Rule to end a History of this Kind, without marrying the Hero and Heroine.” But now, explains the author, “the Parish Girl has grown a rich Heiress, and followed by a Regiment of Feathers, Ribbons, Titles Coronets and powder’d Toopees…” Charlotte now outranks a mere baronet. Even Lady Bountiful, who is ashamed of being “the only Cause of all [Charlotte’s] sufferings” admits that Charlotte “honoured [her son] in accepting of his Alliance.”
Both Sir Thomas and Lady Bountiful apologize to Charlotte for what she’s suffered since she had to escape their home. “Don’t torment yourself,” [replies our heroine], “with what I suffered, it was the Will of Providence, that I should suffer, and I am far from regretting it, since by it I have been confirmed in the Paths of Honour, and have learned the intrinsic Excellence of a steady Virtue.”
Planned Parenthood video: "Virginity" in scare quotes Chastity, first, last and always
Frankly, I'll be glad of the change when I come across an old novel that doesn't fixate on the chastity and reputation of its heroine. But until that day comes, I'm going to go on reporting how central it was to the imagination of the long 18th century. Looking back over the heroines we've met since the beginning of the year, the one thing that rouses them from passivity to action, and causes them to cast off their modest bushes for angry indignation, is an insult or threat to their virtue.
Now we have Planned Parenthood explaining that virginity is a cultural construct. What an extraordinary cultural shift we've seen in the last 200 years...
Frankly, I'll be glad of the change when I come across an old novel that doesn't fixate on the chastity and reputation of its heroine. But until that day comes, I'm going to go on reporting how central it was to the imagination of the long 18th century. Looking back over the heroines we've met since the beginning of the year, the one thing that rouses them from passivity to action, and causes them to cast off their modest bushes for angry indignation, is an insult or threat to their virtue.
Now we have Planned Parenthood explaining that virginity is a cultural construct. What an extraordinary cultural shift we've seen in the last 200 years...
Unrepeatable words
I enjoyed the rustic dialogue of the farm family in the middle section of the novel and even the garrulity of the servants felt natural. I was taken aback by an old English exclamation which I'd never seen before: "Godsni***rs!" which might be derived from an Old Norse word, the same which gave us "niggardly," and not from the notorious "N" word.
I enjoyed the rustic dialogue of the farm family in the middle section of the novel and even the garrulity of the servants felt natural. I was taken aback by an old English exclamation which I'd never seen before: "Godsni***rs!" which might be derived from an Old Norse word, the same which gave us "niggardly," and not from the notorious "N" word.
About the author
Charlotte Summers is sometimes attributed to Sarah Fielding (1710-1768), the sister of novelist Henry Fielding (1707-1754), author of Tom Jones. But no-one knows for sure who wrote it, and for what it’s worth, the author refers to himself as a man in his lengthy, whimsical, prefaces.
The Monthly Review sniffed, “All we shall say of this performance, is, that the author has kept his name unknown, which is an instance of his discretion," but Charlotte Summers sold well and went into several editions over the years.
Previous post: Charlotte, the seduced heroine
Perry, Ruth. Novel Relations: The Transformation of Kinship in English Literature and Culture, 1748–1818. Cambridge University Press, 2004.
Charlotte Summers is sometimes attributed to Sarah Fielding (1710-1768), the sister of novelist Henry Fielding (1707-1754), author of Tom Jones. But no-one knows for sure who wrote it, and for what it’s worth, the author refers to himself as a man in his lengthy, whimsical, prefaces.
The Monthly Review sniffed, “All we shall say of this performance, is, that the author has kept his name unknown, which is an instance of his discretion," but Charlotte Summers sold well and went into several editions over the years.
Previous post: Charlotte, the seduced heroine
Perry, Ruth. Novel Relations: The Transformation of Kinship in English Literature and Culture, 1748–1818. Cambridge University Press, 2004.
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