Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 5: Italy vs. England

Image: Internet Archive

In Volume 4 Sir Charles returned to Italy in an attempt to heal his friend Sir Jeronymo and to renew his addresses to Lady Clementina. So perhaps before we delve into Volume 5, which is largely concerned with that lady, it's time to examine how Italy and England are contrasted in Sir Charles Grandison.

Opera vs. oratorio

The musical form most strongly associated with Italy, of course, is opera. And in Sir Charles Grandison opera signifies passion, danger, impropriety, extravagance, display, frivolity, and sensuality. Opera is associated with characters who are morally questionable, such as:

• the tempestuous Lady Olivia, who first sees and conceives a fierce (and nearly murderous—see Volume 4) love for Sir Charles at the opera in Florence.
• the profligate Sir Thomas Grandison, the father of Sir Charles, Lady L. and Charlotte, who enthusiastically entangled himself "in the diversions of this great town; and was the common patron of all the performers, whether at plays, operas, or concerts." [1]
• the frivolous Mr. Everard Grandison, Sir Charles' cousin, "a great frequenter. . .of all manner of public spectacles; a leader of the taste at a new play, or opera." [2]

Interestingly, opera is also associated with mixed characters such as Charlotte Grandison and Emily Jervois, who are fundamentally well-meaning but do not always exercise good judgment or behave with proper decorum. Both of them often sing "Italian airs" while accompanying themselves on the harpsichord. And once Charlotte marries, opera becomes the audible symbol of her defiance of her husband's authority:

Nay, it was but the other day that he attempted to hum a tune of contempt, upon my warbling an Italian air. An opera couple, we! Is it not charming to sing at (I cannot say to) each other, when we have a mind to be spiteful? . . .Such a foe to melody, that he hates the very sight of my harpsichord. He flies out of the room, if I but move towards it. [3]

Italy is not only the source of that exotic and irrational entertainment, opera, it is also "the land of masquerades." [4] After Harriet Byron comes to London for the first time she is taken under the wing of the fashionable Lady Betty Williams. As Harriet writes her country confidante, Lucy Selby:

I am to be carried by her to a Masquerade, to a Ridotto; when the season comes, to Ranelagh and Vauxhall: In the mean time, to Balls, Routs, Drums, and-so-forth;. . .If you find that I prefer the highest of these entertainments, or the opera itself, well as I love music, to a good play of our favourite Shakespeare, then, my Lucy, let your heart ake for your Harriet: Then, be apprehensive that she is laid hold on by levity; that she is captivated by the Eye and the Ear; that her heart is infected by the modern taste. . . [5]

The masquerade ball that Harriet attends (and is abducted from) in Volume 1 is held "at the Opera-house in the Hay-market." This theater (then known as the King's Theatre) had been associated with Handel's Italian opera companies in the 1720s and early 1730s, and in the late 1740s was the site of "Balls, Masquerades and Assemblys." [6]

The Old Opera House, Haymarket, London, by William Capon, 1783. Image: Victoria & Albert Museum.

A recurring motif in the novel is Harriet's mortification that when she is rescued from Sir Hargrave Pollexfen by Sir Charles she is still wearing her eye-catching masquerade costume. Sir Charles, we learn, does not approve of masquerades: "Masquerades. . .are not creditable places for young ladies to be known to be insulted at them. They are diversions that fall not in with the genius of the English commonalty." [7] Indeed, many of the attendees are dressed as characters from the commedia dell'arte, including Sir Hargrave, who comes dressed as Harlequin.

Mr. [Tom] Ellar as Harlequin. Image: Museum of London

Ridottos were balls featuring masquerade that often involved gambling on cards and other games of chance. Ranelagh and Vauxhall were Italianate pleasure gardens on the banks of the Thames featuring musical performances, al fresco dining, and assignations among revelers on the tree-lined paths.

Vauxhall Gardens by Thomas Rowlandson, ca. 1784. Image: Victoria & Albert Museum

This print by Thomas Rowlandson depicts a Vauxhall concert by singer Mrs Weichsel. In the audience at the center are the society beauties Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, and her sister Henrietta, surrounded by men. To the right, the young Prince of Wales whispers in the ear of his mistress, the actress Mrs. Mary "Perdita" Robinson, who is accompanied by her much older husband. Seated at the table on the far right is "The Old Bawd of Sutton Street," a notorious madam.

James Boswell, who is depicted in the supperbox at the left dining with Samuel Johnson, Oliver Goldsmith and Hester Thrale, wrote that Vauxhall was "a mixture of curious shew, — gay exhibition, — musick, vocal and instrumental, not too refined for the general ear." [8] The "not too refined" songs performed at Vauxhall were written by opera and theater composers such as John (Johann) Christian Bach, James Hook, and Thomas Arne. The subjects of many songs, according to a Vauxhall songbook published in the mid-18th century, included "the bottle, hunting, mirth and jollity," as in Arne's duet "Colinet": "Ring the Bells and fill the Bowl / Revel all without controul." Not the kind of music, one imagines, with which demure unmarried women should admit a familiarity. [9]

Colinet, sung by Mr. [Thomas] Lowe & Mrs. [Ann] Lampe.

Image from the "Pleasure Gardens Compendium" in the collection of the Handel House Foundation, Halle.

In a scene from Volume 2 that encapsulates the way Richardson employs music to reflect moral values, Harriet is asked to perform for the Grandisons while staying with them after her rescue from Sir Hargrave:

I was asked to give them a lesson on the harpsichord after tea. Miss Grandison said, Come, come, to prevent all excuses, I will shew you the way.

Let it then be, said Mr. [Everard] Grandison, Shakespeare’s Cuckow. You have made me enter with so much comparative shame into myself, that I must have something lively to raise my spirits.

Well, so it shall, replied Miss Grandison. . . Accordingly she sung that ballad from Shakespear; and with so much spirit and humour, as delighted every-body. [10]

This is a moment that can slip by a modern reader, but which is very telling. The song Charlotte sings, although not further identified, is likely to be "When daisies pied," the song of Spring from Act V of Love's Labours Lost, in the setting by Arne [11]:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_38A2zEWN1o?t=12

When daisies pied and violets blue And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of ev'ry hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo; Cuckoo, cuckoo: O word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear! When shepherds pipe on oaten straws And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks, When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws, And maidens bleach their summer smocks The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo; Cuckoo, cuckoo: O word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear!

The cuckoo's song is a harbinger of spring, of course, but "cuckoo" is also a word of fear for married men because the word "cuckold" derives from it (cuckoos, of course, lay eggs in other birds' nests). A ribald song alluding to women's sexual infidelity could only be rendered fit to be sung by an unmarried woman due to its origins in Shakespeare. It tells us much about Everard Grandison that he requests this song, and something about Charlotte that she accedes to his request.

After Charlotte's eyebrow-raising performance, it is her sister Lady L.'s turn:

Come, my dear, said the kind countess, I will prepare you a little further. When you see your two elder sisters go before you, you will have more courage.

She sat down, and play'd one of Scarlatti’s lessons; which, you know, are made to shew a fine hand. And surely, for the swiftness of her fingers, and the elegance of her manner, she could not be equalled. [12]

Domenico Scarlatti's Essercizi per gravicembalo (Exercises for harpsichord), K. 1-30, is a collection of thirty harpsichord sonatas published in London in 1738 or 1739. Perhaps Lady L. played the technically challenging Sonata K. 18, here performed by the swift fingers of Chiara Cattani:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7fVCVG_y0TE?t=11

Scarlatti's music, like opera, connects Italian flamboyance with feminine display.

Finally, it is Harriet's turn:

It is referred to you, my third Sister, said Sir Charles (who had been taken aside by Mr. Reeves; some whispering talk having passed between them) to favour us with some of Handel’s musick: Mrs. Reeves says, she has heard you sing several songs out of the Pastoral [Ode L'Allegro, Il Penseroso, ed Il Moderato], and out of some of his finest Oratorios.

Come hither, come hither, my sweet Harriet—Here’s his Alexander’s Feast: my brother admires that, I know; and says it is the noblest composition that ever was produced by man; and is as finely set, as written.

She made me sit down to the instrument.

As you know, said I, that great part of the beauty of this performance arises from the proper transitions from one different strain to another, any one song must lose greatly, by being taken out of its place: and I fear—

Fear nothing, Miss Byron, said Sir Charles: your obligingness, as well as your observation, intitle you to all allowances.

I then turned to that fine piece of accompanied recitative,

Softly sweet, in Lydian measures,
Soon he sooth’d his soul to pleasures. [13]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xa8XwMM59JI

Alexander's Feast is Handel's setting of Dryden's ode to the power of music. The air Harriet performs is part of a section devoted to music's capacity to awaken and express the most tender feelings. The contrast with Charlotte's indecorous theater song and Lady L.'s elaborate showpiece could not be more stark.

Later, at Charlotte's wedding to Lord G. in Volume 4, Sir Charles is himself prevailed upon to perform, and he conspicuously chooses a piece from the same work:

. . .they besought Sir Charles to sing to my playing. He would not, he said, deny any request that was made him on that day.

He sung. He has a mellow manly voice, and great command of it.

This introduced a little concert. Mr. Beauchamp took the violin; Lord L. the bass-viol; Lord G. the German-flute; and most of the company joined in the chorus. The song was from Alexander’s Feast; the words,

Happy, happy, happy pair!
None but the good deserves the fair;

Sir Charles, though himself equally brave and good, preferring the latter word to the former.  [14]

As Richardson's readers would have known, this air includes a duet in its second part in which the Sir Charles's and Harriet's voices would have intertwined. The duet is an expression of the harmony of their intimate feelings which they have not yet been able to acknowledge openly.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ejz7TfhoRkI

The chief barrier to the acknowledgment of those feelings, of course, is Sir Charles's prior attachment to Lady Clementina (first revealed in Volume 3), to whom he is about to renew his offer of marriage. First, though, her "disturbed intellects" must be calmed.

The first meeting does not go well.

"Quitting her mother's hand, now changing pale, now reddening, she arose, and threw her arms about her Camilla."

Illustration engraved by Walker from a drawing by Stothard (1783). Image: Internet Archive

Sir Charles visits the della Porretta family's house in Bologna, to which Lady Clementina has lately been returned. The entire family is present at their reunion:

She saw me. Saw me greatly affected. She started. She looked again; again started; and, quitting her mother’s hand, now changing pale, now reddening, she arose, and threw her arms about her Camilla—O Camilla! was all she said; a violent burst of tears wounding, yet giving some ease to every heart. I was springing to her, and should have clasped her in my arms before them all; but the general taking my hand, as I reached her chair, Dear Grandison, said he, pronouncing in her ear my name, keep your seat. . .

When I turned to the company, I found the dear Clementina, supported by the two marchionesses, and attended by Camilla, just by me, passing towards the door, in order, it seems, at her motion, to withdraw. She stopt. Ah, Chevalier! said she; and reclining her head on her mother’s bosom, seemed ready to faint. I took one hand, as it hung down lifelessly extended (her mother held the other); and kneeling, pressed it with my lips—Forgive me ladies; forgive me, Lady Clementina!—My soul overflowed with tenderness. . .I could not say more. I arose. She moved on to the door; and when there, turned her head, straining her neck to look after me, till she was out of the room. I was a statue for a few moments; till the Count, snatching my hand, and Father Marescotti’s, who stood nearest him, We see to what the malady is owing—Father, you must join their hands!—Chevalier! you will be a Catholic!—Will you not?—O that you would! said the Father—Why, why, joined in the Count, did we refuse the so-earnestly requested interview, a year and half ago?

The young marchioness returned, weeping—They will not permit me to stay. My sister, my dear sister, is in fits! [15]

Sir Charles is now being pressured once again by Clementina's family to change his religion, and Clementina's "malady" has returned full force. As musicologist Jessica Waldoff has written, quoting historian John Mullan, "In the sentimental genres. . .'feeling is above all observable, and the body through which it throbs is particularly excitable and responsive. . .It is "sensibility," connoting both the involuntary action of the organs and muscles and the susceptibility of men and women to shocks of passion or disappointment, which, in excess of anatomy, allows internal disorder to become observable.'" Waldoff further notes of scenes such as Clementina's fits, "Contemporary audiences valued what modern commentators resist, namely, the sentimental artwork's willingness to represent the immediacy of feeling. . .Illness, Mullan suggests, is 'the last retreat of the morally pure.'" [16]

The renewal of the offer

"Leave me, leave me, said she; and putting a paper in my hand, and shutting to the door, instantly, as I saw, fell on her knees."

Illustration drawn and engraved by R. Vinkeles (1800). Image: Internet Archive

Sir Charles gains the family's permission to renew his offer of marriage to Lady Clementina on the same terms as before: she would be able to keep her religion and her own confessor, and raise any daughters in her faith (Sir Charles reserved the religious education of any sons to himself). Sir Charles further promises that their family would spend significant time in Italy with her relatives.

Tears stood in her eyes; she seemed in great perplexity. She would twice or thrice have spoken; but speech was denied her: at last, she gave me her hand, and directed her steps, trembling to her closet. She entered it. Leave me, leave me, said she; and putting a paper in my hand, and shutting to the door, instantly, as I saw, fell on her knees; and I, to avoid hearing sobs which pierced my heart, went into the next apartment, where were her mother and Camilla, who had heard part of what had passed between us. [17]

Lady Clementina, aware that a renewal of the offer was planned, gives a response to Sir Charles in writing; she expresses her fear that with his example before her daily, she would not be able to remain steadfast in her faith:

My duty calls upon me one way: my heart resists my duty, and tempts me not to perform it. . .O thou most amiable of men! How can I be sure, that, were I thine, thou wouldst not draw me after thee, by Love, by sweetness of Manners, by condescending Goodness? [18]

Once again she refuses Sir Charles's offer.

The farewell

"She condescendingly inclined her cheek to me: I saluted her; but could not utter to her what yet was upon my lips to speak."

Illustration drawn and engraved by R. Vinkeles (1800). Image: Internet Archive

There is nothing left for Sir Charles to do but to bid Lady Clementina farewell:

Dear Lady Clementina, my happiness is bound up with yours.

Ah, Sir, I am not greater than you: and I am less than myself. I was afraid when I came to the trial—But is your happiness bound up with mine? O that I may be happy for your sake! I will endeavour to make myself so. . .Bear witness, my sister; forgive me, my mamma: but never did one mortal love another, as I do the man before us. . .Be you my brother, my friend, and the lover of my soul: this person is unworthy of you. The mind that animates it, is broken, disturbed—Pray for me, as I will for you—. . .

I kneeled to her, clasping my arms about her: May you, madam, be ever, ever happy! I resign to your will—And equally admire and reverence you for it, though a sufferer by it. . .

I raised her, and arose; and kissing first one hand, then the other, and bowing to the two marchionesses, was hastening from her.

She clapt her hands together—He is gone!—O stay, stay, Chevalier—And will you go?—

I was in too much emotion to wish to be seen—She hastened after me to the stairs—O stay, stay! I have not said half I had to say—

I returned, and taking her hand, bowed upon it, to conceal my sensibility—What further commands, with a faltering voice, has Lady Clementina for her Grandison?

I don’t know—But will you, must you, will you go?

I go; I stay; I have no will but yours, madam. . .

Clementina sighed, sobbed, wept; then turning from me, then towards me; but not withdrawing her hand; I thought, said she, I had a thousand things to say—But I have lost them all!—Go thou in peace; and be happy! and God Almighty make me so! Adieu, dearest of men!

She condescendingly inclined her cheek to me: I saluted her; but could not utter to her what yet was upon my lips to speak. [19]

Sir Charles returns to England, and to Harriet.

Next time: Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 6: 18th-century Instagram culture

Last time: Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 4: The return to Italy

---

1. Samuel Richardson, The History of Sir Charles Grandison, Volume II, Letter XI. Miss HARRIET BYRON, To Miss LUCY SELBY.
2. Sir Charles Grandison, Volume II, Letter II. Miss BYRON[, To Miss LUCY SELBY]. In continuation. 
3. Sir Charles Grandison, Volume V, Letter IX. Lady G. To Miss BYRON. 
4. Sir Charles Grandison, Volume II, Letter XXXI. Miss BYRON[, To Miss LUCY SELBY]. In continuation. 
5. Sir Charles Grandison, Volume I, Letter V. Miss BYRON, To Miss SELBY.
6. 'The Haymarket Opera House', in Survey of London: Volumes 29 and 30, St James Westminster, Part 1, ed. F H W Sheppard (London, 1960), pp. 223-250. British History Online, http://www.british-history.ac.uk/survey-london/vols29-30/pt1/pp223-250 [accessed 24 September 2019].
7. Sir Charles Grandison, Volume I, Letter XXVII. From Mr. REEVES, To GEORGE SELBY, Esq, In Continuation. 
8. Information about Rowlandson's print is from the Victoria & Albert Museum and the Yale Center for British Art. The print was issued ca. 1784, but it depicts an imaginary scene of no specifiable date. Goldsmith died in 1774, the year the Prince of Wales turned 12. 
9. Vauxhall Gardens, 1661-1859: Vauxhall Songbooks: http://www.vauxhallgardens.com/vauxhall_gardens_songbooks_page.html
10. Sir Charles Grandison,  Volume II, Letter II. Miss BYRON[, To Miss LUCY SELBY]. In continuation. 
11. From the Folger Shakespeare Library: "The words of the song are from Shakespeare’s Love’s labour’s lost, apparently used in the version of As you like it [performed at Drury Lane in 1740] for which Arne supplied incidental music; otherwise, there is no Love’s labour’s lost music by Arne." See https://hamnet.folger.edu/cgi-bin/Pwebrecon.cgi?BBID=232951
12. Sir Charles Grandison,  Volume II, Letter II. Miss BYRON[, To Miss LUCY SELBY]. In continuation.  
13. Sir Charles Grandison,  Volume II, Letter II. Miss BYRON[, To Miss LUCY SELBY]. In continuation.
14. Sir Charles Grandison,  Volume IV, Letter XVI. Miss BYRON[, To Miss SELBY]. In continuation.
15. Sir Charles Grandison,  Volume V, Letter I. Sir CHARLES GRANDISON, To Dr. BARTLETT.
16. Jessica Waldoff, Recognition in Mozart's Operas, Oxford University Press, 2006, pp. 133, 145, and 163.
17. Sir Charles Grandison,  Volume V, Letter XXIV. Sir CHARLES GRANDISON, To Dr. BARTLETT.
18. Sir Charles Grandison,  Volume V, Letter XXIV. Sir CHARLES GRANDISON, To Dr. BARTLETT.
19. Sir Charles Grandison,  Volume V, Letter XXXIX. Sir CHARLES GRANDISON, To Dr. BARTLETT.

Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 4: The return to Italy

Image: Internet Archive

In Volume 3 of Sir Charles Grandison, by allowing Harriet to read his letters Sir Charles informs her of his prior attachment to Lady Clementina, the daughter of a noble Italian family whom he met during his exile from England. However, apparently insurmountable religious differences and her family's hostility to the match have separated the couple.

The fourth volume features returns of various kinds:

• Harriet, after a long stay with Sir Charles' family, returns to her relatives in Northamptonshire

• The Countess of D. renews her campaign to win Harriet's hand in marriage for her son, the Earl of D.

• Lady Olivia returns to her attack (literally) on Sir Charles' chastity

• Charlotte Grandison is commanded to reconsider a suitor in whom she has declared a decided indifference
   
• And Sir Charles returns to Italy to visit Lady Clementina.

All of these returns bring up the question of repetition in Sir Charles Grandison. A certain amount of repetition is built into the epistolary form, as the same events get described from different perspectives. Some authors have used this to advantage. In The Expedition of Humphry Clinker (1771), Tobias Smollett creates comedy from the deflation, complication or contradiction of one person's account of events by other correspondents.

Repetition in Sir Charles Grandison is not generally used in the service of humor, unfortunately. Instead, it is used to reinforce character traits (such as Sir Charles' endlessly demonstrated virtue, generosity and manliness), reintroduce narrative dilemmas (such as Harriet's uncertainty about whether Sir Charles returns her feelings), and recapitulate moral lessons (such as Sir Charles' strictures against duelling). As Terry Eagleton writes,

Walter Scott tells of an old lady who chose to hear Grandison read to her in preference to any other work, as she could fall asleep and wake up again without missing anything of the story. [1]

It's in Volume 4 that readers may begin to feel more than a bit like that old lady.

"A man whom there is no resisting": Sir Charles as matchmaker and marriage counselor

Over the course of the novel Sir Charles regularly acts as matchmaker and marriage counselor. In Volume 4:

• After extracting his elderly, gout-ridden uncle Lord W. from his extramarital relationship with his domineering servant Mrs. Giffard, Sir Charles arranges a marriage between Lord W. and the 34-year-old spinster Miss Mansfield. Miss Mansfield is the daughter of Lady Mansfield, a widow who has fallen into genteel poverty. 
  
  Miss Mansfield will act as Lord W.'s caregiver and, replacing Mrs. Giffard, as his household manager. And, should he still be capable of having sex, she may provide him with an heir. In return Lord W. will assure that she, her mother and her siblings are made financially secure for the rest of their lives. It seems a marriage based more nakedly than most on the exchange of money (his) for services (hers).
  
  The scene in which Sir Charles makes the marriage proposal on behalf of Lord W. to Lady Mansfield and her daughter (whom, by the way, Lord W. has never met) is remarkable: Miss Mansfield remains silent throughout, and finally accepts her fate mutely by bowing her head (as one bows one's head to the executioner). Sir Charles tells her, "I dare say that he will engage your gratitude, and I defy a good mind to separate love from gratitude." [2] The voiceless Miss Mansfield cannot afford to demur.

• Sir Charles reconciles Sir Harry Beauchamp with his quarrelsome wife. She was a wealthy widow who had wanted the handsome young Mr. Edward Beauchamp, Sir Harry's son and Sir Charles' friend, for a second husband. When Mr. Beauchamp turned her down ("perhaps with too little ceremony") and Sir Harry, knowing nothing of her interest in his son, began to pay his own addresses to her, she married Sir Harry to "put both father and son in her power." [3] The ill-advised marriage results in Edward Beauchamp's exile to the continent.
  
  Lady Beauchamp and Sir Harry argue heatedly about whether Edward should remain abroad; she wants him to remain on the Continent and Sir Harry wants him to return. But Sir Charles, using his charm and raillery, is finally able to win Lady Beauchamp over in spite of herself. Mr. Beauchamp is finally allowed to return to England and marital harmony is established.
  
  When Harriet learns of Sir Charles' behavior towards Lady Beauchamp, she writes Lucy:
  

  It absolutely convinces me, of what indeed I before suspected, that he has not an high opinion of our Sex in general. . .He treats us, in Lady Beauchamp, as perverse humoursome babies, loving power, yet not knowing how to use it. [4]

"Sir Harry cleared up at once—May I hope, madam—and offered to take her hand."

Illustration engraved by Walker from a drawing by Stothard. image: Internet Archive

• Sir Charles' "opinion of [the] Sex" is even clearer in his treatment of his sister Charlotte. He all but forces her to accept as her betrothed Lord G., a suitor she considers nothing more than "a good natured silly man." In the eighteenth century, of course, marriage for women was not only a lifetime commitment, but due to the high rate of maternal mortality a life-threatening one.
  
  After Charlotte's reluctant acceptance of Lord G., Sir Charles insists on a quick marriage: within a week (!).  Although Charlotte is wracked by doubts, even at the church door, she finally resigns herself to the union: "'Do as you will—or rather, as my brother will.—What signifies opposing him?'"[6]

"Bad is my best": Emily and her mother.

"Anne saw her first, I alighted, and asked her blessing in the shop."
Illustration engraved by Walker from a drawing by Stothard. Image: Internet Archive

At the end of Volume 3 we were left with the suspicion that Emily was manipulating Harriet Byron with the ultimate aim of seducing Sir Charles. In Volume 4 we learn that Emily has been borrowing substantial sums of money from Sir Charles' sisters Lady L. and Charlotte Grandison/Lady G. and purchasing goods (including a carriage) for her mother with the aim of "enlarging her power to live handsomely." [7] Again, our suspicions are raised. Our concern is heightened when Sir Charles, at Emily's urging, raises her mother's allowance to four hundred pounds a year. Instead of antagonists, are Emily and her mother really in league?

"Vindictive, even to a criminal degree": Lady Olivia.

"She pulled out of her stays, in fury, a poniard, and vowed to plunge it into his heart." 

Drawn and engraved by R. Vinkeles, 1799. Image: Internet Archive

Sir Charles met the tempestuous, passionate Lady Olivia during his first visit to Italy. Now she has followed him to England, willing to abandon her religion and relations if Sir Charles will accept her. Instead, he tells her that he is about to embark on a return journey to Italy to visit Clementina and renew his promise of marriage to her.

She would have had him put off his journey. She was enraged because he would not; and they were high together; and at last she pulled out of her stays, in fury, a poniard, and vowed to plunge it into his heart. He should never, she said, see his Clementina more. He went to her. Her heart failed her. . .He took it from her. [8]

Sir Charles leaves for Italy as planned; Lady Olivia decides to stay in England until his return, seeking hope in a hopeless situation.

"They had by terror broke her spirit": Lady Clementina's trials.

"She heard them, and screamed, and leaving the ladder, ran, to avoid them, till she came in sight of the great cascade."

Illustration engraved by Heath from a drawing by Stothard. Image: Internet Archive

In Sir Charles' absence Lady Clementina has been turned over to Lady Sforza and her daughter Laurana to see if their "harsh methods" will succeed in bringing her out of her despondency. But the mother and daughter have ulterior motives for their severe treatment of Clementina: if Clementina enters a convent to escape her severe treatment, a vast estate originally intended for her will instead be inherited by Laurana. And Laurana is hoping not just for riches, but for a husband. As the Marchioness della Porretta tells Sir Charles:

We suspected not till very lately, that Laurana was deeply in love with the Count of Belvedere; and that her mother and she had views to drive our sweet child into a convent, that Laurana might enjoy the estate; which they hoped would be an inducement to the Count to marry her. . .

Can we so reward Laurana for her cruelty? Especially now, that we suspect the motives for her barbarity? Could I have thought that my sister Sforza—But what will not Love and Avarice do, their powers united to compass the same end; the one reigning in the bosom of the daughter, the other in that of the mother? Alas! alas! they have, between them, broken the spirit of my Clementina. [9]

Sir Charles' return to Italy.

In Volume 3, Sir Charles had left Italy knowing that Lady Clementina's brothers (except his friend Jeronymo) vigorously, not to say heatedly, opposed their marriage. But time and the persistence of Lady Clementina's mental distress have softened their hostility, and some members of the family have asked him to return to see if fulfilling Lady Clementina's request to have another audience with Sir Charles will bring her calm.

Sir Charles also intends to renew his friendship with Jeronymo, whose life he saved in Volume 3. However, the wounds Jeronymo received from his would-be assassins have stubbornly refused to heal. On his return to Italy Sir Charles has brought with him Mr. Lowther, a skilled surgeon, to attend to both Jeronymo's wounds and Lady Clementina's "disturbed intellects."

The della Porretta family has invited Sir Charles to return; will they also allow the renewal of his marriage proposal to Lady Clementina? And if so, will she now accept his terms?

Next time: Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 5: Italy vs. England

Last time: Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 3: The mystery revealed

---

1.  Quoted in Terry Eagleton, The Rape of Clarissa, University of Minnesota Press, 1982, pp. 96-97.
2. Samuel Richardson, Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 4, Letter II. Miss [HARRIET] BYRON[, To Miss LUCY SELBY]. In Continuation.
3. Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 2, Letter XXXVII. Dr. Bartlett[, To Miss BYRON]. In Continuation.
4. Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 4, Letter III. Miss [HARRIET] BYRON[, To Miss LUCY SELBY]. In Continuation.
5. Loudon I. (1986). Deaths in childbed from the eighteenth century to 1935. Medical history, 30(1), 1–41. doi:10.1017/s0025727300045014. According to this study, between 5 and 29 of every 1000 births resulted in the death of the mother. These figures do not count maternal morbidity, which involves death from complications of pregnancy or birth. 
6. Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 4, Letter XV. Miss [HARRIET] BYRON[, To Miss SELBY]. In Continuation.
7. Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 4, Letter XXXIV. Miss JERVOIS, TO Miss BYRON.
8. Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 4, Letter XXIV. Miss [HARRIET] BYRON[, To Miss SELBY]. In Continuation.
9. Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 4, Letter XL. Sir CHARLES GRANDISON, To Dr. BARTLETT.

Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 3: The mystery revealed

Image: Internet Archive

Volume 3: The mystery revealed

In the previous volume Harriet Byron had been brought to confess her love for Sir Charles Grandison to his sisters, Lady L. and Charlotte. But although they assure Harriet that they are in favor of the match, they hint to her that Sir Charles may have an attachment to "some foreign lady" (see Volume 2: The confession).

"A Series of Letters Published from the Originals." I haven't yet commented extensively on the epistolary form of Sir Charles Grandison, but it's a crucial aspect of the novel. As in Richardson's earlier novels, in Sir Charles Grandison he maintains the fiction that he is merely the collator and editor of genuine letters that have come into his possession, rather than the author of the letters himself.

Although no one was fooled, Richardson thought the pretense heightened the illusion of immediacy and the emotional engagement of readers. He claimed that he was presenting "a species of writing. . .that may be called new," which involved "every one putting him and herself into the character they read, and judging of it by their own sensibilities." Women readers in particular were intended to identify strongly with women characters "writing of and in the midst of present distresses! How much more lively and affecting, for that reason, must her style be." [1] 

And he was not wrong. His first novel Pamela (1740) became a huge hit: "Fashionable ladies displayed copies in public places, and held fans painted with pictures of its best-loved scenes. Pamela became a play, an opera, even a waxwork" [2]. It is said that in one village where the novel was being read aloud in the village square to the rapt inhabitants, when the end of the final volume was reached and Pamela and Mr. B. were married, the audience "were so delighted as to raise a great shout, and procuring the church keys, actually set the parish bells ringing." [3]

Clarissa (1747-48) also gripped readers; Lady Mary Wortley Montagu reported weeping over scenes that reminded her of her own father's attempt to coerce her into marriage with a man she detested. "This Richardson is a strange fellow. I heartily despise him and eagerly read him, nay, sob over his works in a most scandalous manner. The 2 first Tomes of Clarissa touch'd me as being very ressembling to my Maiden Days." [4]

Portrait of Samuel Richardson, "Author of Clarissa," by Joseph Highmore, 1750 (detail). Image: Wikimedia Commons

And copies of Sir Charles Grandison were jealously guarded by their owners; Richardson's friend Elizabeth Carter wrote him that she didn't dare share with her acquaintances a pre-publication set that he had sent her because "I apprehend there would be so much scratching & clawing that it would be impossible to keep him in my possession & he would run some hazard of being scattered to the four winds of heaven." [5]

Richardson's influence lasted for decades after the first publication of his books. It can be traced in later writers such as Fanny Burney (see Jane Austen's favorite novelist) and Jane Austen (see Volume 1: The abduction), both of whom adopted the epistolary form and elements of his plots when writing their first novels. [6]

The social network. It is a contradiction of letters that they are personal and intimate, but also intended for someone else's eyes; they are social, as well as private, documents. They are the spontaneous productions of the moment that are "the very soul of Nature," candid and unreserved, but are written with an eye to the effect on their reader(s). [7] And in Sir Charles Grandison, each correspondent writes in the knowledge that their letters will be read not only by the recipient, but by their friends and relations as well (or at least read to them). In her letters to Lucy Selby, Harriet even includes joking asides intended for her uncle, Lucy's father. (Of course, the reader of the novel becomes a part of this community of sharing as well, which also heightens engagement.)

This sharing has significant effects. Harriet's letters to Lucy about her abduction by Sir Hargrave Pollexfen are shared not only with all of her own relatives, but with Lord and Lady L., Charlotte Grandison, Sir Charles's mentor Dr. Bartlett, and Sir Charles himself. By allowing her relatives and acquaintances to vicariously experience her terror and desperate courage, Harriet cements her place in their affections.

But sharing letters can not only be a way of tying readers more intimately together, but of distancing them. Sir Charles, we suspect, is not blind to Harriet's growing feelings for him. One of the running jokes in the novel is that Harriet believes that she has succeeded in concealing her secret love, while to everyone else (including the reader) it is utterly apparent. After he reads Harriet's letters about her abduction and its aftermath, Sir Charles shares the letters he wrote to Dr. Bartlett about the trip to Italy from which he has recently returned. Does this gesture contain a message for Harriet?

Map of Bologna (detail) by Johannes Blaeu, 1640. Image: Wikimedia Commons

Sir Charles in Italy. In Sir Charles' letters from Italy we learn of his encounters with the noble della Porretta family. One of the sons of the family, Jeronymo, lives a dissolute life. He is attacked by hired assassins as he is travelling through the woods (the favors of "a Lady, less celebrated for virtue than beauty" are the point of contention between Jeronymo and a rival [8]). Sir Charles happens to be passing by, chases off the assassins, and transports the wounded Jeronymo to a nearby town where he can be treated. In gratitude, the family invites Sir Charles back to the family estate in Bologna while Jeronymo recovers there.

Lady Clementina. While staying at the della Porretta palazzo, Sir Charles begins giving English lessons to the family members—including the beautiful daughter, Clementina. The inevitable happens: after many turns about the garden in the company of her maidservant Camilla, Clementina is slowly (very slowly) brought to confess that she has fallen in love with her handsome English tutor.

"Ay, now you come with your beseeches again: but if you love me, Camilla, leave me."

Illustration engraved by Blake from a drawing by Stothard

And, although he does not make a like declaration, Sir Charles has also fallen in love with her. But there are two obstacles. The first, seemingly insuperable one, is that she is Catholic, and he Protestant, and neither is willing to convert. The second obstacle is the men of the family (except the grateful Jeronymo), who are appalled that Clementina would fall in love with a foreigner and a heretic. The family is closely tied to the Catholic church—one of Clementina's three brothers is a bishop—and an alliance with a Protestant is unthinkable.

"She turned her face toward me as I drew near her; and, seeing who it was, stopt."

Illustration engraved by Heath from a drawing by Stothard (1783).

"Her rage and despair." Sir Charles, conscious of Lady Clementina's own objections and her family's implacable opposition, decides that it would be best for him to leave Bologna, and ultimately returns to England. His absence, and Lady Clementina's recognition of the insurmountable barriers between them, throws her into a crisis. When Sir Charles' friend Mrs. Beaumont goes to visit her, she finds her "in a deplorable way: Sometimes raving, sometimes gloomy; and in bonds—Twice had she given them apprehensions of fatal attempts: They therefore confined her hands. . .When they knew you were actually gone from Bologna, they told her so. Camilla shocked me with the description of her rage and despair, on the communication. This was followed by fits of silence, and the deepest melancholy." [9] Like Clarissa, Clementina also begins to starve herself: "She is so loth to take nourishment, and when she does, it is so very abstemious, that the regimen is hardly necessary." [10] Everyone fears for Clementina's sanity, and even her very survival.

Well, perhaps not everyone. Clementina's widowed aunt Lady Juliana Sforza and her daughter Laurana think that the family is being too soft on Clementina. As Mrs. Beaumont reports, "Lady Juliana de Sforza is earnest to have her with her at Urbino, or at Milan, where she also has a noble palace; but I hope it will not be granted. That Lady professes to love her; but she cannot be persuaded out of her notion of harsh methods which will never do with Clementina." [11] As we will learn, Lady Sforza has ulterior motives for wanting Clementina treated like a madwoman or confined to a nunnery.

The invitation. The della Porrettas did not allow Clementina to have a farewell interview with Sir Charles, but some members of the family begin to think that Sir Charles should be invited back to meet with her.

"Her head runs more than ever upon seeing her tutor, her friend, her Chevalier, once more. . .Could she but once more see him, she says, and let him know the cruelty she has been treated with, she should be satisfied. He would pity her, she is sure, though nobody else will.

"The bishop has written to beg, that Sir Charles would pay them one more visit at Bologna. . .It is but within these few days past that this new request has been made to him, in a direct manner. The question was before put, If such a request should be made, would he comply?" [12]

Is the della Porretta family's opposition to the marriage of Lady Clementina and Sir Charles weakening? Will Sir Charles return to Italy to see her and perhaps renew his offers of marriage, crushing Harriet's own romantic hopes?

Lady Olivia. Complicating matters is Lady Olivia, a noblewoman from Florence. She first sees Sir Charles at the opera, where he defends a woman being persecuted by a rejected lover. Twice thereafter he meets her in company at invited gatherings, and soon she (like seemingly every woman who encounters Sir Charles) has conceived a fierce passion for him. But Lady Olivia is "violent and imperious in her temper"; she makes an open declaration to Sir Charles, which he rebuffs as gently as he can.

I could not have been happy with her, had she been queen of the globe. I had the mortification of being obliged to declare myself to the Lady's face: It was a mortifi­cation to me, as much for her sake as my own. I was obliged to leave Florence upon it, for some time; having been apprized, that the spirit of revenge had taken place of a gentler passion, and that I was in danger from it. [13]

This is not the last we will see of the fiery Lady Olivia.

The machinations of Mrs. Jervois. Meanwhile, in England Sir Charles is beset by the troublesome mother of his ward Emily Jervois. Mrs. Jervois turns up repeatedly, demanding to see her daughter. With such a woman nothing can be taken at face value, even maternal love, and indeed it becomes clear that her plan is to marry Emily against her will to one of Mrs. Jervois' confederates in order to seize control of her wealth. That wealth is astonishing: Emily will be mistress of £50,000 inherited from her father (and currently held in trust by Sir Charles). Mrs Jervois enlists two men in her plan: her supposed new husband, the supposed Major O-Hara, and his supposed brother-in-law, the supposed Captain Salmonet.

Mrs. Jervois and her companions insist on seeing Sir Charles and issue high-handed threats to sue him over custody of Emily. When Sir Charles shows them to the door, the hot-headed Salmonet draws his sword and threatens Sir Charles in his own house. It does not end well for the intruders.

"I drew, put by Salmonet’s sword, closed with him, disarmed him, and, by the same effort, laid him on the floor."
Illustration engraved by Blake from a drawing by Stothard (1782)

Salmonet has his sword taken from him and finds himself on the floor hors de combat; the Major is also soon swordless. Seeing the defeat of her champions Mrs. Jervois flees in terror, and her two belligerent companions are unceremoniously ejected.

As is turns out, Mrs. Jervois and her husband are dependent upon an allowance set up by Emily's father that Sir Charles also controls. He has the power to pay her £100 or more annually, and lets her know in no uncertain terms that any further trouble from her will result in the reduction of her allowance to the minimum. But we wonder whether that threat will be sufficient to end her scheming.

"Eyes swimming in tears." Emily's emotional turmoil is not limited to her justified fear of her mother. Harriet suspects that she is in love with her guardian:

. . .Emily is cherishing (perhaps unknown to herself) a flame that will devour her peace. . .I watch the countenance, the words, the air of the girl, when he is spoken of. And with pity I see, that he cannot be named, but her eyes sparkle. . .So young a creature—Yet how can one caution the poor thing? [14]

Harriet finds a way. She comes to Emily's room as she is about to go to bed, dismisses the servants for the night, and then turns the conversation to their favorite subject, Sir Charles. After confirming what she already knows—that Emily shows all the symptoms of first love—Harriet confesses that she too "greatly esteems" him. Emily teases her: "Esteem! Is that the word? Is that the ladies’ word for love?" [15]

This exchange of confidances is not only an acknowledgment of the growing intimacy between the two, but also intended by Harriet as a warning to Emily about the necessity of guarding her feelings (just as Harriet receives that warning when she learns of Sir Charles' prior attachment to Lady Clementina).

After Harriet's confession, Emily sweetly tells Harriet, "I wish my guardian to be the happiest man in the world; I wish you, madam, to be the happiest woman: And how can either be so, but in one another? Upon my word, I wish no one in the world, but you, to be lady Grandison." [16]

Is Emily really as guileless as she appears? And is she entirely unconscious of the effect of her blossoming beauty? At times it even seems that she is intent on seducing Harriet:

And then the poor girl threw her arms about my neck, smothering me with her kisses, and calling me by all the tender names that terror and mingled gratitude could suggest to her. [17]

But her eyes swimming in tears, her earnest looks, her throbbing bosom, her hands now clasped about me, now one another, added such graces to what she said, that it is impossible to do justice to it. [18]

O madam—(flinging her arms about me, and hiding her face in my bosom) Have I not cause to sigh? [19]

Emily's tears, sighs, kisses, ardent embraces and throbbing bosom are brought to bear in an extraordinary scene that immediately follows Harriet's confession. Emily, clinging to Harriet, asks her to intercede on her behalf with Sir Charles after their marriage:

I have but one fear—

And what’s that?

That my guardian won’t love me so well, when he marries, as he does now. . .he would not take my hand so kindly as now he does: he would not look in my face with pleasure, and with pity on my mother’s account, as he does now: he would not call me his Emily: he would not bespeak every one’s regard for his ward.

My dear, you are now almost a woman. He will, if he remains a single man, soon draw back into his heart that kindness and love for you, which, while you are a girl, he suffers to dwell upon his lips. You must expect this change of behaviour soon, from his prudence. You, yourself, my love, will set him the example: you will grow more reserved in your outward behaviour, than hitherto there was reason to be—

O, madam! never tell me that!. . .Would you, madam, were you Lady Grandison (now, tell me, would you) grudge me these instances of his favour and affection?

Indeed, my dear, I would not: if I know my own heart, I would not.

And would you permit me to live with you?—Now it is out—Will you permit me to live with my guardian and you?—This is a question I wanted to put to you; but was both ashamed and afraid, till you thus kindly emboldened me.

Indeed I would, if your guardian had no objection.

That don’t satisfy me, madam. Would you be my earnest, my sincere advocate, and plead for me? He would not deny you any thing. . .—Dear, dear madam! you are moved in my favour—Who could have forborn being affected by her tender prattle? and she threw her arms about me; I see you are moved in my favour!—. . .

I could not bear this.

No more, no more, my lovely girl, my innocent, my generous, my irresistible girl!—. . .I folded her to my heart, as she hung about my neck. . . [20]

Emily has turned Harriet's admonishment about her too-visible signs of emotional attachment to Sir Charles into permission for her to continue to seek "instances of his favour and affection." She has also enlisted Harriet as her advocate in her campaign to live with the couple, should they marry. Harriet seems remarkably sanguine about the prospect of sharing her future home with a beautiful young woman who has all but declared her passion for her husband-to-be.

Harriet does not seem to recognize that she has made all the concessions in this encounter. And whatever the conventions of 18th-century romantic friendships between women, the end of their intimate tête-à-tête sounds like nothing so much as the parting of two lovers:

I must leave you, Emily.

Say then my Emily.

I must leave you, my and more than my Emily.—You have cured me of sleepiness for this night!

O then I am sorry—

No, don’t be sorry. You have given me pain, ’tis true; but I think it is the sweetest pain that ever entered into a human heart. Such goodness! such innocence! such generosity!—I thank God, my love, that there is in my knowledge so worthy a young heart as yours.

Now, how good this is! (and again she wrapped her arms about me) And will you go?

I must, I must, my dear!—I can stay no longer. But take this assurance, that my Emily shall have a first place in my heart for ever. I will study to promote your happiness; and your wishes shall be the leaders of mine.

Then I am sure I shall live with my guardian and you for ever, as I may say: and God grant, and down on her knees she dropped, with her arms wrapped about mine, that you may be the happiest of women, and that soon, for my sake, as well as your own, in marriage with the best of men—my guardian!. . .

I struggled from her.—O my sweet girl! I cannot bear you!—I hastened out at the door, to go to my chamber.

You are not angry, madam? following me, and taking my hand, and kissing it with eagerness. Say you are not displeased with me. I will not leave you till you do.

Angry! my love! who can be angry? How you have distressed me by your sweet goodness of heart!. . .

And I kissed her once, twice, thrice, with fervor; and away she tript: but stopt at the door, courtesying low, as I, delighted, yet painfully delighted, looked after her. [21]

Is Emily really all sweetness and innocence? Or—child of a conniving mother—is she playing a deep game?

Next time: Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 4: The return to Italy 

Last time: Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 2: The confession

---

1. Quoted in Terry Eagleton, The Rape of Clarissa, University of Minnesota, 1982, pp. 25-26.
2. Mark Kinkead-Weekes, Introduction to Pamela, Everyman, 1966, p. v, quoted in Eagleton, p. 5.
3. Stephanie Fyshe, The Works of Samuel Richardson, University of Delaware Press, 1997, p. 60. 
4. Letter of 22 September 1755 from Lady Mary Wortley Montagu to her daughter Lady Bute. From Montagu, Selected Letters, edited by Isobel Grundy, Penguin, 1997, p. 415.
5. Quoted in Eagleton, pp. 28-29. 
6. Burney's Evelina (1778) is a series of letters featuring the misadventures of a young heroine who, like Pamela, Clarissa, and Harriet Byron, is persecuted by harassing suitors. Austen's Lady Susan (written in 1794, when Austen was 19), Elinor and Marianne (the first version of Sense and Sensibility, written in 1795), and probably First Impressions (the first version of Pride and Prejudice, written in 1796-97), were also written in epistolary form; the first wasn't published in Austen's lifetime, while the latter two were rewritten as narratives before publication.
7. Eagleton, p. 45.
8. Richardson, Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 3, Letter XX. Miss BYRON[, to Miss SELBY]. In Continuation.
9. Volume 3, Letter XXXII. Miss BYRON, to Miss SELBY.
10. Volume 3, Letter XXXII. Miss BYRON, to Miss SELBY.
11. Volume 3, Letter XXXII. Miss BYRON, to Miss SELBY.
12. Volume 3, Letter XXXII. Miss BYRON, to Miss SELBY.
13. Volume 3, Letter XX. Miss BYRON[, to Miss SELBY]. In Continuation.
14. Volume 3, Letter III. Miss BYRON, to Miss SELBY.
15. Volume 3, Letter VII. Miss BYRON, to Miss SELBY.
16. Volume 3, Letter VII. Miss BYRON, to Miss SELBY.
17. Volume 3, Letter V. Miss BYRON, to Miss SELBY.
18. Volume 3, Letter V. Miss BYRON, to Miss SELBY.
19. Volume 3, Letter VII. Miss BYRON, to Miss SELBY.
20. Volume 3, Letter VII. Miss BYRON, to Miss SELBY.
21. Volume 3, Letter VII. Miss BYRON, to Miss SELBY.

In memoriam: Anner Bylsma

Anner Bylsma. Image: Medici.tv

I learned today from Anthony Tommasini's obituary in the New York Times that Anner Bylsma, the renowned Dutch cellist, died in Amsterdam on July 25.

Bylsma was a champion of performing 17th- and 18th-century music on the instruments of the time. While this is now common, he was a period-instrument pioneer, first playing historical instruments in the 1950s. I was introduced to him through his 1999 recording of Vivaldi's six Sonatas for Violoncello (published in 1740, but probably composed earlier). On that recording Bylsma played a violoncello built by Matteo Goffriller in Venice in 1693. It took some time for my ears to adjust to the sound of Bylsma's cello, whose gut strings produced a sound both softer-grained in tone and softer in volume than modern steel-stringed cellos. But once I had learned to hear the warmth of the instrument and the lyricism of Bylsma's playing, I was won over.

Here is his performance of the first movement of Vivaldi's Sonata for Violoncello No. 3 in A Minor, RV 43; the continuo is played by Francesco Galligioni (violoncello), Ivano Zanenghi (archlute), and Andrea Marcon (harpischord):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4V-4RNsO5Lk

I soon sought out his other recordings of cello music by Vivaldi, Bach, Haydn, Boccherini, and Mozart. All are wonderfully rewarding, but I think my favorite is his second recording of Bach's Suites for Solo Violoncello, done in 1992 (he had made a previous recording of the suites in 1979). Pablo Casals' historic first recordings of these pieces in the 1930s set a standard that few musicians have approached since; in my view, Bylsma's 1992 recording is one of the few that can stand comparison with Casals'. To hear the two cellists performing different movements of Bach's Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major, please see my post on Eric Siblin's book The Cello Suites: J. S. Bach, Pablo Casals, and the search for a Baroque Masterpiece.

Here is Bylsma's performance of the prelude to Bach's Cello Suite No. 1, played on the "Servais" violoncello built by Antonio Stradivarius in 1701 and now housed in the Smithsonian Institution:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XI7zTJ1fGYM

If you are interested in more details of Bylsma's life, please see Tommasini's "Anner Bylsma, Eminent Cellist With an Ear for the Past, Dies at 85" in the New York Times.

Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 2: The confession

Image: Internet Archive

Volume 2: The confession

When we last left Harriet and Sir Charles, she was beginning to acknowledge her esteem for him, and he had been challenged to a duel by Sir Hargrave Pollexfen, whom he had injured when he prevented Sir Hargrave's attempt to abduct, forcibly marry and rape Harriet (see Volume 1: The abduction).

The duel. Sir Charles goes to Sir Hargrave's house by himself, and in the presence of two of Sir Hargrave's friends reasons with him with such manly honor about their dispute that the two friends wind up taking Sir Charles' side. An exasperated Sir Hargrave invites Sir Charles into the garden and draws his sword, but Sir Charles is able to prevent the duel from proceeding further by stepping inside his guard and firmly grasping his arms.

"Sir Charles, who was on his guard, immediately laid hold of it, and seemed to say something mildly to him."

Illustration engraved by Heath from a drawing by Stothard, 1782. Image: Internet Archive

Defeated, Sir Hargrave returns to the house with Sir Charles, but insists on visiting Harriet.

Sir Har. . . .I will see if she has no pardon, no pity for me. She knows, she very well knows, that I was the most honorable of men to her, when she was in my power. By all that's sacred, I only intended to make her Lady Pollexfen. . .

Sir Ch. . . .I think she ought not to be yours; nor ought you, either for your own sake or hers, to desire it. . .

Sir Har. And you have no view to yourself in the advice you give?—Tell me that—I insist upon your telling me that.

Sir Ch. Whenever I pretend to give advice, I should abhor myself, if I did not wholly consider the good of the person who consulted me; and if I had any retrospection to myself, which might in the least affect that person.

Sir Har. . . .By G—, Sir, you have carried the matter very triumphantly. . .Curse me, if I can bear my own littleness! [1]

This kind of scene recurs throughout the novel. Sir Charles will meet with someone who is furiously opposed to him and win them over thanks to his calm reasoning and generosity of spirit and purse. Almost invariably he and his opponent wind up embracing in friendship (although Sir Hargrave doesn't quite go that far). This, of course, is exactly how things always work out in real life, where everywhere one sees the triumph of good sense, fairness and generosity.

"Extravagant to profusion": Sir Thomas Grandison. As a sign of their growing intimacy, Sir Charles' sisters Lady L. and Charlotte tell Harriet the story of their family. The Grandisons' father, Sir Thomas, was handsome and charming, but had "a great notion of magnificence in living" and was "extravagant to profusion." Their mother was "the most excellent of women. . .Her eye and ear had certainly misled her" in her choice of husband. [2] The children are raised by the wise and discreet Lady Grandison to honor their father, but they rarely see him. Sir Thomas spends half his time sampling the pleasures of the town without his wife and children, and the other half making the rounds of the hunts near his country seat.

After the death of Lady Grandison, the 17-year-old Sir Charles is sent abroad, and Sir Thomas brings the widow of an old companion of his revels to act as the governess of his 19- and 16-year-old daughters. In a short time Mrs. Oldham becomes Sir Thomas's mistress, and winds up bearing him two children. Sir Thomas has another mistress in town, Mrs. Farnborough. As Lady L. says to Harriet, "The Love of pleasure, as it is called, was wrought in to his habit. He was a slave to it, and to what he called freedom." [3]

Ashamed of how his conduct is likely to be regarded by his children, Sir Thomas forbids the sisters and Sir Charles to write one another. He also insists that Sir Charles remain abroad, because "his son's morals and his own were so different, that he should not be able to bear his own consciousness, if he consented to his return to England." [4]

The marriage of Lady L. Lord L., who met Sir Charles while travelling abroad, pays a lengthy visit to Grandison Hall. He soon falls in love with Caroline, Sir Thomas's eldest daughter, and she with him. Sir Thomas is unalterably opposed to this match. He tells Lord L., "I have not quitted the world so entirely, nor think I ought, as to look upon myself as the necessary tool of my children, to promote their happiness at the expense of my own." [5]

The marriage of a daughter involved her family paying a dowry to her husband, supposedly to compensate him for the expense of supporting her throughout her life, and to provide her with a small income (pin money) for personal items. Sir Thomas is reluctant to cut into his own income to provide dowries for his daughters. He demands that they marry only the men he approves, namely men who will feel socially elevated by the match and are so rich that they will accept a small or nonexistent dowry.  [6]

Lord L. has told Sir Thomas that he will rely on his "generosity" in the matter of a dowry, but Sir Thomas is not mollified. He dismisses Lord L. and forbids Caroline to see or correspond with him. In a confrontation with his tearful daughters he demands their obedience in the matter of their marriage partners, or he will disown them. Caroline goes so far as to say "I will never be Lord L.'s, without your consent. I only beg of you, Sir, not to propose to me any other man." [7]

"'Am I forgiven, sir?' said I. 'Dear sir, forgive your Charlotte.'"

Illustration engraved by Hubert from a drawing by Marillier. Image: Internet Archive

Shortly afterwards Sir Thomas is stricken by a fever and dies "in dreadful agonies." Sir Charles, who has been abroad for eight or nine years, had been sent for but cannot arrive in time. When he does come he settles his father's outstanding obligations (both licit and illicit) with generosity, approves the union between Lord L. and his sister, and provides both of the sisters with dowries of £10,000.

The suitors of Charlotte Grandison. But Sir Thomas's tyrannizing of his daughters has had unintended consequences. Charlotte has two suitors, the foppish Sir Walter Watkyns and the unexceptionable but rather insipid Lord G. But, spurning both, she confesses to Sir Charles that she has become involved with a handsome adventurer named Captain Anderson, who is twice her age.

Sir Charles rose from his seat; and taking one of his sister's hands between his, Worthy sister! Amiable Charlotte!. . .If you think Captain Anderson is worthy of your heart, he shall have a place in mine; and I will use my interest with Lord and Lady L. to allow of his relation to them. . .

Miss. Gr. O Sir, what shall I say? You add to my difficulties by your goodness. I have told you how I entangled myself. Captain Anderson's address began with hopes of a great fortune, which he imagined a daughter of Sir Thomas Grandison could not fail, first or last, to have. That this was his principle motive, has been, on many occasions (too many for his advantage) visible to me.  My allowance of his address, as I have hinted, was owing to my apprehensions, that I should not be a fortune worthy of a more generous man. At that time, our life was a confined one; and I girlishly wished for Liberty—MATRIMONY and LIBERTY—Girlish connexion! as I have since thought. [8]

Charlotte is the most subversive character in Sir Charles Grandison. Serving a function a bit like Lovelace in Clarissa, she uses her wit to call the values of the social system upheld by the "good" characters into question—such as the way a woman literally embodies her dowry ("I should not be a fortune worthy of a more generous man"), or how for women, marriage is simply exchanging the tyranny of a father for that of a husband ("MATRIMONY and LIBERTY—Girlish connexion!").

But Charlotte has unwisely promised Captain Anderson in writing that while he remains single she will not marry without his consent. Captain Anderson now insists that Charlotte must either marry him, or at the least keep her promise. Sir Charles must once again pay a visit to a man predisposed to take offense, and in the presence of his friends, dissuade him from a course of action to which he feels entitled. And once again the affair is settled amicably.

All's well that ends well? Given that we still have five and half volumes to go, the answer is obvious.

Miss Emily Jervois.  In Volume 2 we are introduced to Emily Jervois, Sir Charles' ward. Her Italian father on his deathbed bequeathed Emily to the care of his friend. (That it seems appropriate to everyone that a 14-year-old girl is the ward of a single 26-year-old man is remarkable, although Emily did not travel with Sir Charles and lives with a respectable widow and her daughters.) Charlotte describes Emily's English mother as being "one of the most abandoned of women." She is "a termagant, a swearer, a drinker, unchaste" who wants to insinuate herself back into her daughter's life in order to extort a share of her daughter's "great fortune." [9]

Emily is "amiable" and "lovely," and—no surprise—has a huge crush on Sir Charles. As Harriet writes Lucy:

My godfather [Dr. Bartlett] will have it, that he sees a young passion in Miss Jervois for her guardian!—God forbid!—A young Love may be conquered, I believe; but who shall caution the innocent girl? She must have a sweet pleasure in it, creeping, stealing, upon her. How can so unexperienced an heart, the object so meritorious, resist or reject the indulgence? But, O my Emily! sweet girl! do not let your Love get the better of your gratitude, lest it make you unhappy! [10]

But as Harriet quickly recognizes, Emily's case is her own.

"Entangled in a hopeless passion." Over the course of Volume 2, Harriet is slowly (very slowly) brought to hint to Lucy Selby something that has been apparent to everyone (including the reader) for several hundred pages: she has fallen in love with her handsome, manly, wealthy, and virtuous rescuer.

Lucy reads the letters she receives from Harriet to her parents, and the perceptive Mrs. Selby becomes alarmed at what she detects of Harriet's feelings. Not only does she fear that Harriet's first experience of love will be heartbreaking, but as long as Harriet lives in hope of Sir Charles returning her love she will refuse offers from other worthy men. As Mrs. Selby writes Harriet,

You have laid me under a difficulty with respect to Lady D. . . .I have not written to her [refusing her son's suit], tho' you desired I would; since, in truth, we all think, that her proposals deserve consideration; and because we are afraid, that a greater happiness will never be yours and ours. It is impossible, my dear, to imagine, that such a man as Sir Charles Grandison should not have seen the woman whom he could love, before he saw you. . . [11]

Mrs. Selby is very wise.

The confession. Harriet still doesn't know know if Sir Charles returns her romantic feelings, but the signs are not good. The families of two noblewomen, the Lady N. and Lady Anne S., have approached Sir Charles with the object of matrimony. Both women are vastly wealthy and both of them have a much higher social position than Harriet.

But there may be another rival as well. Lady L. and Charlotte report to Harriet a conversation they had with Sir Charles in which he said that "If [Lady Anne] honours me with a preferable esteem, it is not in my power to return it." Harriet at first thinks that this may be a hopeful sign; perhaps he cannot return Lady Anne's esteem because he is in love with Harriet? But Charlotte suggests another possibility: "We are afraid, that some foreign lady—"

"I threw one of my arms, as I sat between them, round Lady L's neck, the other round Miss Grandison's."
Illustration engraved by Heath from a drawing by Stothard, 1782. Image: Internet Archive

Under the sisters' gentle but insistent probing, Harriet is brought to confess her feelings.

I desired their pity. They assured me of their love; and called upon me as I valued their friendship, to open my whole heart to them.

I paused. I hesitated. For words did not immediately offer themselves. But at last, I said, ". . .I will own, that the man, who by so signal an instance of his bravery and goodness engaged my gratitude, has possession of my whole heart."

And then, almost unknowing what I did, I threw one of my arms, as I sat between them, round Lady L's neck, the other round Miss Grandison's; my glowing face seeking to hide itself in Lady L's bosom.

. . .I was very earnest to know, since my eyes had been such tell tales, if their brother had any suspicion of my regard for him. They could not, they said, either from his words or behaviour, gather that he had. [12]

Both sisters assure her that they want to see her married to their brother, but the obstacles—including what may be an involvement with "some foreign lady"—seem formidable.

Next time: Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 3: The mystery revealed

Last time: Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 1: The abduction

---

1. Samuel Richardson, The History of Sir Charles Grandison, S. Richardson, 1753. Vol. II, Letter IV. Miss HARRIET BYRON to Miss LUCY SELBY. 
2. Sir Charles Grandison, Vol. II, Letter XI. Miss HARRIET BYRON to Miss LUCY SELBY.
3. Sir Charles Grandison, Vol. II, Letter XIII. Miss BYRON [to Miss SELBY], In Continuation.
4. Sir Charles Grandison, Vol. II, Letter XIII. Miss BYRON [to Miss SELBY], In Continuation.
5. Sir Charles Grandison, Vol. II, Letter IX. Miss BYRON [to Miss SELBY], In Continuation.
6. See Maria Grace's "Show Me the Money: Marriage Settlements in the Regency Era"
7. Richardson, Sir Charles Grandison, Vol. II, Letter XVII. Miss BYRON [to Miss SELBY], In Continuation.
8. Sir Charles Grandison, Vol. II, Letter XXIX. Miss BYRON [to Miss SELBY]. In Continuation. 
9. Sir Charles Grandison, Vol. II, Letter I and Letter XXV. Miss HARRIET BYRON, to Miss LUCY SELBY.
10. Sir Charles Grandison, Letter XXXIII. Miss HARRIET BYRON, to Miss SELBY.
11. Richardson, Sir Charles Grandison, Vol. II, Letter VIII. Mrs. SELBY, to Miss BYRON.
12. Richardson, Sir Charles Grandison, Vol. II, Letter XXX. Miss BYRON [to Miss SELBY], In Continuation.