| 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#207 Mary Charlton Week: Rosella, or, Modern Occurrences (1799), part two
In my previous post, I introduced a discussion of the forgotten novel Rosella, or, Modern Occurrences (1799) by Mary Charlton. This novel is a good candidate for books to read when you've read everything Austen wrote and want more. In the last post I went over the prologue of the book which sets up the premise for the story: this is about two good friends, Sophia and Selina, who are deluded novel-readers. Sophia is a widow, Selina is married to a grouchy old attorney, so they live their lives vicariously through Sophia's unacknowledged daughter, Rosella Montresor.
Sophia Beauclerc, having buried both of her parents, is a wealthy heiress. For the sake of her Gothic romance fantasies, she is fortunate that her estate outside of London is next door to the stately home of an unmarried nobleman! Rosella doesn’t realize that when Sophia sends her to walk or ride in the neighbourhood, or play her harp and sing in the hermitage rather than in the parlor, it is all with the intention of catching Lord Morteyne’s eye and ear. What happens instead is that a gang of “men of fashion” burst drunkenly on to the property in quest of the beautiful songstress. In the process of frightening Rosella with their loud admiration, her harp is badly damaged.
The harp disappears, and before long, a beautiful new harp is mysteriously delivered, rather like the pianoforte that shows up in Highbury in Emma. Rosella assumes it’s a generous gift from her dear friend Miss Beauclerc. The reader, or at least this reader, assumed that Lord Morteyne was honourably taking responsibility for the boorish behavior of his guests. Sophia and her friend Selina believe that it’s proof that his Lordship is smitten with Rosella.
Sophia Beauclerc, having buried both of her parents, is a wealthy heiress. For the sake of her Gothic romance fantasies, she is fortunate that her estate outside of London is next door to the stately home of an unmarried nobleman! Rosella doesn’t realize that when Sophia sends her to walk or ride in the neighbourhood, or play her harp and sing in the hermitage rather than in the parlor, it is all with the intention of catching Lord Morteyne’s eye and ear. What happens instead is that a gang of “men of fashion” burst drunkenly on to the property in quest of the beautiful songstress. In the process of frightening Rosella with their loud admiration, her harp is badly damaged.
The harp disappears, and before long, a beautiful new harp is mysteriously delivered, rather like the pianoforte that shows up in Highbury in Emma. Rosella assumes it’s a generous gift from her dear friend Miss Beauclerc. The reader, or at least this reader, assumed that Lord Morteyne was honourably taking responsibility for the boorish behavior of his guests. Sophia and her friend Selina believe that it’s proof that his Lordship is smitten with Rosella.
They step up their campaign: Rosella takes driving and riding lessons, and is directed to always pass Lord Morteyne’s property: “[Sophia Beauclerc] almost wished the horses to take fright (a little) or the carriage to overturn (gently) that an accident so opportune might create heroic services, an obligation of eternal gratitude in return for them, and all those tender sentiments which a charming heroine and a handsome hero must experience from such a touching adventure.”
Sophia and Selina’s expectations rise to fever pitch after Rosella, out horse-riding with an inexperienced groom, is caught up in a fox chase and is thrown off her horse. She is rescued from being trampled to death by an unnamed young gentleman, who turns her over to Lord Morteyne, since he knows who she is. (Hmmm, I wonder if we'll encounter this mysterious young man again?) Lord Morteyne escorts Rosella home, and Sophia and Selina think it’s just a matter of time before he proposes marriage.
Meanwhile Miss Beauclerc, released from the control of her late father’s financial restraints, is spending money wildly on improvements. More subtly humorous free indirect discourse: “It was discovered that the house must undergo a complete alteration, and that a library and greenhouse must open on to the lawn—that is, a lady’s library and a lady’s greenhouse. Under the shade of some fine-chesnut-trees a fanciful dairy was to be erected in the form of a bungalow. Rosella was already constituted dairy-maid in chief, and an expensive dairy-set actually bespoke at Wedgewood’s.”
Sophia and Selina’s expectations rise to fever pitch after Rosella, out horse-riding with an inexperienced groom, is caught up in a fox chase and is thrown off her horse. She is rescued from being trampled to death by an unnamed young gentleman, who turns her over to Lord Morteyne, since he knows who she is. (Hmmm, I wonder if we'll encounter this mysterious young man again?) Lord Morteyne escorts Rosella home, and Sophia and Selina think it’s just a matter of time before he proposes marriage.
Meanwhile Miss Beauclerc, released from the control of her late father’s financial restraints, is spending money wildly on improvements. More subtly humorous free indirect discourse: “It was discovered that the house must undergo a complete alteration, and that a library and greenhouse must open on to the lawn—that is, a lady’s library and a lady’s greenhouse. Under the shade of some fine-chesnut-trees a fanciful dairy was to be erected in the form of a bungalow. Rosella was already constituted dairy-maid in chief, and an expensive dairy-set actually bespoke at Wedgewood’s.”
Walking unescorted at night-- Bing AI generated image By now Rosella, entirely unaware of the marital hopes of Sophia and Selina, realizes that she should not go riding with only an inexperienced groom to chaperone her. As a 17-year-old girl, she cannot lope around the countryside unescorted without slurs being cast on her reputation, usually by Lord Morteyne’s loutish house guests. Therefore, though she loves the generous Miss Beauclerc, she is starting to doubt her good judgement. This going to be Rosella’s central worry throughout the novel—she wants to be a good and obedient girl, but she knows that many of the things Miss Beauclerc proposes are wrong, and they place her in excruciatingly embarrassing and/or potentially dangerous situations. Matters just get worse when Miss Beauclerc resolves to go on a tour of Scotland. She has a secret agenda, which Selina is helping to direct through voluminous correspondence from London, but neither of them enlighten Rosella, who goes from one alarm to another.
Miss Beauclerc, for example, insists on walking out in the evening to take a message to a family living in the country a few miles away from the inn where they are staying. (The details are not important to the plot, but Miss Beauclerc wants to cloak her actions with as much mystery and drama as possible). Her manservant and the landlord remonstrate with her, but she brushes them aside. “Rosella was thunderstruck: walking in the dusk of the evening without an attendant, unacquainted with the way they were to pursue, and what was still worse, returning after night-fall, which must be the case, wholly unprotected, was a thing she could not have had an idea of, but from the fearless rambles of those gentle creatures, whose marches and counter-marches she had perused in Miss Beauclerc’s library books…” (I should mention that although Rosella has read some of the many novels in Miss Beauclerc's library, she is not a deluded novel-reader, and she notices that these novels are basically all the same.) Remember as well, that people of this era believed that the dews of night were very dangerous to the health, and getting your feet wet was to court serious illness.
On their return trip, the ladies have to creep along in the dark and they barely escape being run over by a swift-moving carriage. The driver stops the coach and, assuming that they are prostitutes, speaks to them rudely.
“How dare you,” cried Miss Beauclerc, all the dignity of heroic virtue up in arms—“how dare you insult people of honor and decency with such vile language?”
“Dessent, quotha,” retorted the driver, “yes, you must be dessent sort of folks, to be sure, to be a streaming at this time o’night in hedges and ditches, and up sitch leanes as this!”
The male passenger is a gentleman who gives them a ride back to the inn. They learn he is a Mr. Delamere and of course Miss Beauclerc assumes he must fall instantly in love with Rosella, but since she is destined for Lord Morteyne, Mr. Delamere will be doomed to disappointment. The plot thickens! thinks Miss Beauclerc, and she relays all the doings back to Selina in London.
Miss Beauclerc, for example, insists on walking out in the evening to take a message to a family living in the country a few miles away from the inn where they are staying. (The details are not important to the plot, but Miss Beauclerc wants to cloak her actions with as much mystery and drama as possible). Her manservant and the landlord remonstrate with her, but she brushes them aside. “Rosella was thunderstruck: walking in the dusk of the evening without an attendant, unacquainted with the way they were to pursue, and what was still worse, returning after night-fall, which must be the case, wholly unprotected, was a thing she could not have had an idea of, but from the fearless rambles of those gentle creatures, whose marches and counter-marches she had perused in Miss Beauclerc’s library books…” (I should mention that although Rosella has read some of the many novels in Miss Beauclerc's library, she is not a deluded novel-reader, and she notices that these novels are basically all the same.) Remember as well, that people of this era believed that the dews of night were very dangerous to the health, and getting your feet wet was to court serious illness.
On their return trip, the ladies have to creep along in the dark and they barely escape being run over by a swift-moving carriage. The driver stops the coach and, assuming that they are prostitutes, speaks to them rudely.
“How dare you,” cried Miss Beauclerc, all the dignity of heroic virtue up in arms—“how dare you insult people of honor and decency with such vile language?”
“Dessent, quotha,” retorted the driver, “yes, you must be dessent sort of folks, to be sure, to be a streaming at this time o’night in hedges and ditches, and up sitch leanes as this!”
The male passenger is a gentleman who gives them a ride back to the inn. They learn he is a Mr. Delamere and of course Miss Beauclerc assumes he must fall instantly in love with Rosella, but since she is destined for Lord Morteyne, Mr. Delamere will be doomed to disappointment. The plot thickens! thinks Miss Beauclerc, and she relays all the doings back to Selina in London.
The Theatre Royal, Edinburgh. Wikimedia Commons Rosella grows increasingly concerned and saddened at Miss Beauclerc’s mysterious and eccentric ways. This only fuels her companion’s delusions, because she and Selina had previously been concerned that Rosella was too cheerful and lively to be a proper heroine. Now she “beheld Rosella with a mien melancholy and pensive enough to have satisfied the most refined of tastes. She was pleased with the observation. –“Now,” whispered she, “my lovely child is divine! There wanted but this expression of countenance to make her perfect.”
In Edinburgh, Miss Beauclerc sets out to do some sightseeing, then realizes she has forgotten the name or the street of their hotel. To cover up her error, she takes Rosella to the theatre. In those days (or at least in the novels of those days) a respectable woman did not go to the theatre without a male escort. If you went “unprotected,” you could be insulted by lewd remarks or outright propositioning, because it was assumed that you were not a girl of good character and therefore, up for sexual grabs—literally. Miss Beauclerc doesn't let this stop her, of course, because heroines frequently meet with adventures at theatres, such as amazing reunions or attempted abductions.
Luckily, Miss Beauclerc and Rosella are joined in their theatre-box by a friendly, witty, but somewhat flighty young Irishman named Arthur Oberne, who entertains them, protects them from the impertinent remarks of other young men, and gets them safely back to their hotel. Sophia quickly accepts him as a daily escort and volunteer tour guide, but Rosella knows that his continued attendance on them is most improper. They don’t know this young man from Adam. Sure enough, the same group of rowdies who harassed Rosella back in England show up and make insinuating remarks about the way she's exposing herself in public. Rosella, at the beck and call of Miss Beauclerc, unable to travel back to England by herself, is trapped in this awkward situation. She assumes a cold and forbidding attitude toward Mr. Oberne--that is, until his witty sallies and cheerfulness make her laugh in spite of herself.
In Edinburgh, Miss Beauclerc sets out to do some sightseeing, then realizes she has forgotten the name or the street of their hotel. To cover up her error, she takes Rosella to the theatre. In those days (or at least in the novels of those days) a respectable woman did not go to the theatre without a male escort. If you went “unprotected,” you could be insulted by lewd remarks or outright propositioning, because it was assumed that you were not a girl of good character and therefore, up for sexual grabs—literally. Miss Beauclerc doesn't let this stop her, of course, because heroines frequently meet with adventures at theatres, such as amazing reunions or attempted abductions.
Luckily, Miss Beauclerc and Rosella are joined in their theatre-box by a friendly, witty, but somewhat flighty young Irishman named Arthur Oberne, who entertains them, protects them from the impertinent remarks of other young men, and gets them safely back to their hotel. Sophia quickly accepts him as a daily escort and volunteer tour guide, but Rosella knows that his continued attendance on them is most improper. They don’t know this young man from Adam. Sure enough, the same group of rowdies who harassed Rosella back in England show up and make insinuating remarks about the way she's exposing herself in public. Rosella, at the beck and call of Miss Beauclerc, unable to travel back to England by herself, is trapped in this awkward situation. She assumes a cold and forbidding attitude toward Mr. Oberne--that is, until his witty sallies and cheerfulness make her laugh in spite of herself.
The coincidence of running into all the people from her old neighbourhood isn’t really a coincidence. Unbeknownst to Rosella, Sophia Beauclerc is following Lord Morteyne and his party as he travels north.
We’ve gotten to the end of the second volume of this four-volume novel and Rosella still doesn’t have a declared sweetheart. She doesn’t have romantic feelings for anyone. To Sophia, Mr. Delamere and Mr. Oberne are just romantic rivals for Lord Morteyne. Due to his faultless behaviour to Miss Beauclerc, Rosella wonders for a time if Mr. Oberne is an Irish fortune-hunter, set on snagging a gullible spinster. Is this unknown man who popped into their lives out of nowhere really trustworthy?
Previous post: Rosella, the prologue Next post: Rosella, part three
We’ve gotten to the end of the second volume of this four-volume novel and Rosella still doesn’t have a declared sweetheart. She doesn’t have romantic feelings for anyone. To Sophia, Mr. Delamere and Mr. Oberne are just romantic rivals for Lord Morteyne. Due to his faultless behaviour to Miss Beauclerc, Rosella wonders for a time if Mr. Oberne is an Irish fortune-hunter, set on snagging a gullible spinster. Is this unknown man who popped into their lives out of nowhere really trustworthy?
Previous post: Rosella, the prologue Next post: Rosella, part three
 The old sign above the entrance to the recently-demolished Balmoral Hotel in Vancouver. | In my Canadian province of British Columbia, there was once a law that unescorted women could not enter a public house (pub or tavern, that is). Some pubs and hotels still have the two different entrances, marked "Ladies and Escorts" and "Men." The idea was to keep prostitutes from entering taverns and seducing men. It was a method of trying to control the spread of venereal disease, a real concern in those days before antibiotics. The belief that a woman going out in public unescorted is a loose woman is still extant in some cultures. |
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