| 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. Spoilers abound in my discussion of these forgotten novels, and I discuss 18th-century attitudes which I do not necessarily endorse. This post is one in a continuing series in which I look at the novels which were possibly written by the same author who wrote The Woman of Colour (1809). Frederic & Caroline, or the Fitzmorris Family. A Novel in two volumes. By the author of Rebecca, Judith, Miriam, etc. Minerva Press, 1800. |
Also, the plot relies upon incredible coincidence after incredible coincidence. Frederic keeps running into Caroline wherever he goes, and when he does, he always sees her in a compromising situation, though she is guilty of nothing more than filial devotion to a selfish mother. We also luckily meet up with a long-lost uncle, a long-lost stepmother, a long-lost best friend, two long-lost twin brothers, a long-lost sister, and a long-lost errant wife, each of whom has to tell us their tragic backstory. Thud! As revelations come to light, the women and sometimes the men sink senseless or lifeless to the ground...
Red flags everywhere ChatGPT image Our two heroes are monsters of emotional manipulation. When Emma refuses to marry George Edwin because his father would disapprove of his son marrying a poor rector’s daughter, he responds: “Oh, my heart’s dear Emma, say not so! you whom I once fondly thought my own, cast not off one, whose whole soul hangs in rapture on the remembrance of those days of felicity, which will perhaps return no more. But,” with a voice of indignation, “your sentiments are perhaps changed… you are in possession of other friends, whom you prefer to the unfortunate Edwin, whose happiness is no longer dear to you?”
When that doesn't work, he turns to emotional blackmail. “[Y]ou may reject me, cast me off, ruin my happiness, blight my health, stab my peace, but... I here solemnly swear no power on earth shall compel me to ally myself [to his father’s choice of wife]… Oh think! Sole idol of my affections! Think before you blast all the fair prospects of my youth, all those fairy scenes of bliss fancy has so often portrayed.. think how you will bear to hear of my forlorn state, my hopeless anguish, my acute despair, far distant, the rigour of a foreign clime may complete my desolation, and to you I may return no more!”
When Emma still refuses, he turns sullen and then angry. “No, Emma,” cried he, refusing her offered hand, “no, Miss Godfrey, I no longer possess your love;--you no longer feel any regard for the unfortunate Edwin; and since he cannot retain the place he once held in your heart, he scorns to be indebted to your pity!”
He wears her down into consenting to a secret marriage, then he leaves. Once overseas, he receives an anonymous letter from a spiteful girl who had hoped to marry him, claiming that Emma is living with a man (it’s actually her long-lost uncle). Edwin believes the accusation and, without double-checking, promptly ghosts his wife and starts courting another girl.
ChatGPT image As for Frederic, he has more reason to believe Caroline Vincent's unconstancy because appearances are against her. She runs away on the eve of their wedding without an explanation. She is obeying her mother, whose terrible secret will come to light if she encounters Frederic’s uncle (she’s his long-lost errant wife).
Frederic follows Caroline to the city and sees her being helped into a coach by the scoundrelly Major Mortimer, who has been pestering her with his unwanted attentions. He exclaims: “Can it be possible? Good God! Can it be possible? Till I saw this, till I saw this, not the united tongues of thousands, not the whole world, not even her own unaccountable flight, could have induced me to believe Caroline Vincent false.”
"Caroline now again raised her eyes to his face, but was unable to speak.”
He stalks her to her house, then confronts her again:
“Tell me not you love me,” cried Frederic; “call me not your beloved Frederic; rather say you hate, you despise me; say you have plighted that faith to my rival you have before falsified to me; say that you revel in licentious pleasure, that you are the companion of his looser hours; say at once that you are lost alike to virtue and honour, and do not trifle with the feelings of a heart like mine. A time will come,” continued he, walking about the room in violent agitation, “when you will lament its loss, when you will reproach yourself for its sufferings, and will vainly lament your dereliction from virtue!”
“Almighty Providence!” cried Caroline, bursting into tears, “what an accusation!—And is your confidence in my honour, your reliance on my fidelity so small, so very small? Cannot you believe me when I affirm my virtue is unsullied, my affection for you unshaken?”
She persuades him, but he breaks with her again when a scheming servant slips him a lying letter at the instigation of Major Mortimer.
“Alas! –no, it is fatally too true, and she is lost to me for ever. Oh Caroline, Caroline! Hadst thou been innocent, thou couldst have had no motive for concealment; thou wouldst not have fled from my ardent, my sincere affection; thou wouldst not now have refused me thy society; thou wouldst explain every thing which appears mysterious in thy conduct. But,” continued he, striking his forehead with his clenched fist… " etc., etc.
I will say in Frederic’s favour that in one 48-hour period, he rescued an old woman from domestic abuse (the long lost stepmother), rescued Caroline from being falsely accused of shoplifting, and then, hours later, rescued her from a burning building. I’ve got nothing to say in mitigation of George Edwin. As I've noted before, people who find fault with some of Austen's heroes should see how they compare to the rest of the 18th-century crop.
In addition to the dramatically fraught love stories, the authoress abruptly includes a conversation about the French Revolution (she disapproves) that goes nowhere. And out of nowhere, two lower-class working women come out with anti-Semitic and anti-black statements. I’m not sure if these are intended to be comic or what. The narrator does not comment on them; and none of the main characters react to it or dispute their statements.
Female Education
The effect of education on character comes up when the stepmother, an actress who married a rich man and who was miserable to his children, reflects on her mis-spent life: “I had no kind friend to watch over my early years; no one instilled into my infant mind those principles of religion and virtue which would have guarded it from error and frailty, which would have counteracted the ebullitions of passion. I was never taught to improve my mind; it was left to its own guidance, and fell a prey to vanity and vice;--but the person was embellished; every art was used to set my attractions in the most conspicuous point of view.”
Custody battle?
I wondered why the errant wife wrote a letter to her wronged husband and lied that their daughter Caroline was dead. Yes, it was for plot purposes, but what was her motivation to lie and cause him such needless sorrow? It then occurred to me that since men automatically got custody of their children in the event of separation or divorce, the mother lied to keep her daughter with her. This is not spelled out in the text.
References to slavery and empire
In one of the backstories, another Emma (Emma’s mother) protests against her brother being sent to the West Indies: “Fortune he cannot want, and the West-Indies is not a place to improve his manners or his morals. Why should our darling, and the last surviving heir of an ancient family be driven to a climate which may ruin his health?” The reference to "morals" here may be a reference to sexual concubinage.
ChatGPT informs me that prisoners taken in the 1798 Irish Rebellion were not sold to the Spaniards to be used as slaves in their "American mines," as one long-lost twin brother claims: "Alas! While the African is unshackled, the European is enslaved!” ChatGPT says this is an anti-French atrocity story. It is interesting to note that there really is an Irish population on Jamaica, but these Irish men and women were forcibly shipped out generations earlier, by Oliver Cromwell, to colonize Jamaica.
Beware the Night Air!
One thing that made me laugh out loud was the common notion that the night air was dangerous. Here is Emma, looking out of her bedroom window at the rectory because Edwin is stalking her: “at one moment she determined to open the window, and speak to him; at another to venture into the garden, and expostulate with him on his extraordinary conduct. She feared disturbing her father, feared the observation of the domestics, yet feared, most of all, the effects of the night air on the constitution of Edwin.”
Very meta
Finally, the author includes a little shout out to her publisher: “[Frederic] strolled into a Circulating Library, furnished from the Minerva (for where, in these enlightened days, is there a bathing-place without such a necessary receptacle of literary knowledge?) and taking up accidentally a volume of Sermons, a bit of paper dropped on the ground.” The paper turns out to be some notes written by Caroline, who he bumps into as he leaves the library. Small world!
Frederic & Caroline did not receive any reviews when it was first published.
Of the 22 novels on the attribution list for The Woman of Colour, there are three which are not available in digital format: Federetta (1795), The Banks of the Wye (1808), and The Dead Letter Office (1811). That leaves three early novels on the list that I haven't looked at yet.
Another year draws to a close! Blogging may be light for the next month as I will be travelling. Happy New Year to all!
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