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. |

The unhappy Cecil (a girl) and Robert, Lord Desmond, along with Henry Fortescue and Angeline de Courci, are unable to marry because more than twenty years ago Emma, (Robert's mother and Angeline's aunt), could not marry Viscount Fortescue (Cecil and Henry's father), because of the family feud described in earlier posts. What is needed--obviously--is for Emma, now widowed, to go to her old sweetheart Viscount Fortescue and beg him to put aside the family feud so the young people can marry. This solution does not occur to her. What can I do to help? she asks her unhappy son, all bewildered. What could I possibly do?...
“Oh, my adored mother! I would die sooner than you should be put to the trial… [Robert answers]. I cannot tell you—I would not for the world you should suppose me capable of wishing to expose you to such a painful task.”
“And will you refuse to give me the information I demand? Then, Angeline, I must appeal to you.”
“Oh, not to me, dear aunt, not to me, I would not wound you by the mention of such an idea.”
Emma continues to beg for them to explain what she could do. Robert flees, and …’at length [Angeline] with tears acknowledged that all their hopes rested upon the influence she might possess over the Viscount, by a personal application.”
“The countenance of Lady Desmond trembled as pale as death: every limb was convulsed… Oh! You know not my heart: it may break in the attempt, but it shall be made. Yes, Angeline, I will see the Viscount."
So a few days later she orders a carriage and drives around the lake to his castle, and we have several more pages of angst and long speeches:
“Emma,” said [the Viscount] in a faltering voice, “could you but see into my heart… The wrongs of my injured sister, the entreaties, the agonies of my parents, called upon me to sacrifice myself to avenge her untimely fate… I gave up to filial duty my adored Emma, my betrothed, my affianced bride: but—I could not tear her from my heart.—There have you lived, Emma—live still—Oh! Do not seek to make me violate that vow which made me the victim of filial piety.”
Lady Desmond sinks to her knees and pleads for the happiness of their young people, and the Viscount... relents! Addressing his dead father, he exclaims: “O my father! If now I yield to the heavenly voice of mercy and forgiveness, if now I consent to exempt my children from a vow fatal to their happiness, and once more receive into this house a descendant of that of de Courci, it is because I feel that enough has indeed been done to satisfy thy resentment, to avenge the death of my sister.”
But he can never be released from his own vow to never marry Emma. They will become in-laws when Cecil marries Robert and Henry marries Angeline, but will never marry each other.

At last, Henry and Angeline can declare their mutual love. They agree that will go up to London, just long enough for her to be presented at Court, then keep themselves in the country forever after. There is a lot of to-ing and fro-ing. With this large cast of characters, author Selina Davenport has to move people around a lot and it's done in a fairly wooden fashion, unfortunately: “The General and Mrs. Aveland [the parents of Julia who married Sidney] promised to remain with their highly-valued friend during the absence of his children, who would of course pass the chief part of their time in Portland Place, after the Christmas holidays were over. Lord Desmond wished his beloved Cecil to consult her own taste in the furniture, ornaments, and necessary preparations for their nuptials. The Viscount therefore consented to her accompanying Sidney and his wife to Town two days after the departure of the Earl and his family from the Castle.”

It's worth contrasting the fate of Elvira with the fate of Maria Bertram in Mansfield Park. Both married for wealth and status. They did not love their husbands (although Elvira's Everard Wrottesley is not a complete dullard like Mr. Rushworth.) Elvira tries to lead her old lover Sidney into temptation, and with much anguish he resisted. I was going to say "mental anguish" but really the pain is mostly in his pants.
Maria's punishment for adultery was to be banished. Elvira, who livened up the first volumes of this book, made one last attempt to get Sidney to cheat on his wife. She was taken off to India by her husband, who accepted a government post there. Elvira's fate was to die in India; the family receives a letter announcing that "Beautiful Elvira had fallen a victim to the climate of the east. A fever, brought on by continual fretting, had deprived this imprudent, but fascinating woman, of her existence, and she fell a martyr to her passions before she attained her twentieth year. Inconsolable for her loss, Mr. Wrottesley by the same dispatch sent in his resignation…”
Angeline, comforted by Henry, bawls her eyes out. Then she concludes it is all for the best. “Ah!” said she, “deeply as I feel her loss, it is yet better that my beloved Elvira should cease to exist, than have lived to disgrace her family by her imprudent conduct, and perhaps have estranged at last Sidney from his wife and child.”
And on that note...
"It is but an uncle" Many people squirm at the passage in Mansfield Park when Edmund tells Fanny how her uncle Sir Thomas has noticed and praised her growing beauty. “Your uncle thinks you very pretty, dear Fanny—and that is the long and the short of the matter... Your complexion is so improved!—and you have gained so much countenance!—and your figure—nay, Fanny, do not turn away about it—it is but an uncle." How are we to interpret this passage? The same occurs in SofVatDofE. Uncle Fortescue is just as appreciative of the beauty of his nieces Elvira and Angeline: “the Earl, as he kissed with a parent’s fondness his interesting niece [Angeline], called the blush of modesty on her cheek by his open praise of her beauty.” |
Anthems of Joy The wedding preparations go forward for Cecil Fortescue with Robert, Lord Desmond, and for Angeline De Courci and Henry Fortescue. Viscount Fortescue meets Robert and Angeline and is very pleased with both of them, especially his new daughter-in-law Angeline. He gives her the Fortescue jewels. The author marries off some minor characters, and we are told everyone lives Happily Ever After. This part starts the Muppet song "Anthems of Joy" from the Frog Prince into my mind. | |
I have to hand it to Selina Davenport for spinning out the angst for four volumes but I wish there had been some plot twists, some people showing up unexpectedly, that sort of thing. The big problem, as mentioned, was the Viscount's obduracy. So once he decided to stop being obdurate, problem solved.
Colonialism and slavery: India is used to move characters off-stage and that's where Elvira dies. The only references to slavery are the gallant declarations of men that they are the slaves of the lovely creatures they adore: “Once more let me seal on those lovely lips my bond of willing slavery." He caught her passionately to his heart: his arms encircled her waist: and he felt the throb of her bosom against his own.” So, this novel is pretty typical in its casual acceptance of the status quo and its slavery/love references.
This novel, so far as I can discover, received no reviews when it was published.