The Adventures of Capt. Duncan, A Journey From Europe, Over The Arabian Deserts, To the British Settlements in India; Containing, Among Other Particulars, An Account Of The Perils he experienced in those terrific Regions, The Eccentric Humours of His Tartarian Guide, His Shipwreck, and Distresses In The War With Hyder Ally, &c.
Dubiously attributed to Mary Anne Radcliffe when published in 1802, this chapbook tracks a captain’s journey across what’s east of England
The Sadleir-Black Collection edition of The Adventures of
Capt. Duncan wears its history well. Despite its age, the book has
maintained its blue cover, bound by a thick string. Frayed and whittled down on
the sides, the cover sheets are thinner and frailer than the sheets containing
the book’s text, perhaps indicating that the covers have borne the brunt of the
wear and tear. The exterior cover notes an extravagant number of salesmen
across England responsible for the publishing of the book. The interior cover
recognizes this edition as the premium printing copy of the story, costing an
additional three pence, up to a total of nine. That distinction, as a premium
publication, likely enabled the cover’s survival, as this edition supplied a
superior set of craftsmanship and materials.
With regards to the pages, The Adventures of Capt. Duncan
is relatively short. Even amongst these few pages, they are uneven, jetting
outward or inward, indicating some combination of both uneven page-cutting and
the wear of centuries. The pages themselves are brittle, dry, and yellowed, yet
firmer than the cover. When turning the pages, they tend to crunch a bit and
move with rigidity.
Following the initial pages that note the book’s publication
information, there is an illustration of Captain Duncan in his armor. This
serves as a frontispiece, with the inelaborate title The Adventures of Capt.
Duncan. On the very next page, the expansive title takes up a full page,
declaring The Adventures of Capt. Duncan, A Journey From Europe, Over The
Arabian Deserts, To the British Settlements in India; Containing, Among Other
Particulars, An Account Of The Perils he experienced in those terrific Regions,
The Eccentric Humours of His Tartarian Guide, His Shipwreck, and Distresses In
The War With Hyder Ally, &c. This title uses an array of fonts, spacings,
and capitalizations on the page, ranging from robotic, direct fonts, to floral
and italicized fonts. On the cover, there is a similar mixing of fonts. There
are variations even among the spaces between the letters within words, as well
as the spacing between lines.
The rest of the book is not nearly as unique. The text itself is
fairly plain. There is little spacing between lines and a 1.5 to 2 centimeter
margin on the pages. The book is brief, at only thirty-six pages, in the style
of gothic chapbooks. The back cover of the book shares the same physical
qualities as the blue front cover: it is thin, fragile, and is more sparsely
populated with printed text.
The Adventures of Captain Duncan
was one of two installations in Radclife’s New Novelist’s Pocket Magazine
(Brown et al). The magazine’s publishers hoped the magazine would “contain an
elegant & chaste collection of Original Novels, Tales, Romances, Lives,
Memoirs, Voyages, Travels, &c. together with a judicious Selection from the
Writings of those Authors, whose works have in any degree excited public
notoriety” but after those first two issues, the project was abandoned (quoted
in Potter 64).
As a chapbook, The Adventures of Captain Duncan holds a
small place in the larger chapbook publishing landscape. From roughly the late
1790s to the early 1800s, Thomas Hurst published gothic chapbooks from his
office at 32 Paternoster Row. He was integral in many of the gothic chapbooks
published between 1798 and 1803, including The Adventures of Captain Duncan.
Hurst spearheaded the serial Radclife’s New Novelist’s Pocket Magazine,
and was also the exclusive seller in England, while the rest of the magazines
were sold in Scotland (Potter 64). Another gentleman, Thomas Brown, joined
Hurst in publishing Radcliffe’s New Novelist’s Pocket Magazine, as well as
The Marvelous Magazine (Potter 64–5).
As the eighteenth century turned to the nineteenth, chapbooks
were sold with practices that echo modern multi-level marketing schemes. The
primary distributor (Thomas Hurst, for example) would collect a group of
subordinates to sell the chapbooks, with the option to sell the books
individually or further distribute them to other sellers (Potter 67).
Booksellers’ advertisements in newspapers and such reveal an extensive network
of this wholesale distribution (Potter 67–8).
Mary Anne Radcliffe was billed as the writer, compiler, and
editor of Radclife’s New Novelist’s Pocket Magazine. Her name
immediately begets ambiguity with its similarities to the well-known Gothic
novelist Ann Radcliffe, but that is not where the issues end. Mary Anne
Radcliffe was certainly a real person. She was born Mary Clayton of Nottingham.
She was well educated, considering her status and gender (Brown et al). At the
mere age of fourteen, she married Joseph Radcliffe, giving her the fateful
Radcliffe name. Following her marriage, she dotted across England between
Edinburgh, London, and Nottingham (Brown et al). Mary Anne Radcliffe certainly
wrote as well. The works most clearly attributable to her are The Female
Advocate; or An Attempt to Recover the Rights of Women from Male Usurpation and
Memoirs … in Familiar Letters to Her Female Friend. Scholars have doubted
her other attributed works, however, which include an array of gothic novels as
well as translations of foreign novels (Brown et al).
Most modern scholarship focuses on Mary Anne Radcliffe’s larger
Gothic novels rather than her chapbooks, but they reveal a larger practice of
misattribution, where certain publishers attached Mary Anne Radcliffe’s name to
books in an attempt to sell more—relying on her proximity to Ann Radcliffe’s
name (Garside et al). Some of Mary Anne Radcliffe’s attributions are more
suspect than others. One such novel, Radzivil, was attributed to her
several years after publication. The Fate of Velina de Guidova, which is
a translation from Russian that is set in France, was attributed after an even
greater wait (Brown et al). Both novels focus on material entirely distinct
from The Female Advocate and point to a different author entirely (Brown
Radclife’s New Novelist’s Pocket Magazine
has fewer suspect circumstances but still exists within the context of those
other misattributions. The magazine correctly identifies Mary Anne Radcliffe’s
address and she was attributed at the time of publishing (Brown et al). Some modern
scholars are skeptical of Mary Anne Radcliffe being the true author or editor
of the pocket magazine, but it nevertheless holds a sharper connection than her
other attributions (Garside et al). Whether Mary Anne Radcliffe truly wrote and
edited for the magazine or someone else did, The Adventures of Captain
Duncan remains a valuable part of the history of chapbooks in England.
Point of View
The Adventures of Captain Duncan
switches between an unidentified third-person narrator and the first-person
narration of Captain Duncan, through what appears to be a set of direct
statements from Duncan. The third-person narrator functions as an interpreter
of those notes. Both styles delve into the captain’s emotions, but his
first-person interjections serve as sharper confirmations of the preceding
paraphrases of the narrator.
As the Captain became familiarised to his Tartar guide, he found him a fellow of infinite humour and much humanity, well acquainted with the world, and endeavoring all he could to alleviate the gloom that frequently clouded his countenance. One principal object with him seemed to be to impress the Captain with an idea of his high importance as a messenger belonging to the Sultan, and that his authority wherever he came was not to be disputed. “ Thus,” says Capt. Duncan, “ whenever we stopped at a Caravansera, he immediately called about him, in the name of the Sultan, for fresh horses, victuals, &c. And though the utmost submission was shown to his will, he nevertheless frequently exhibited his muscular powers by unmercifully belaboring all indiscriminately with his whip, and I was afraid to interfere, fearful that he might think it necessary to give me a flogging to avoid suspicion.” (15)
These two modes of narration function within the larger
historical implications of The Adventures of Captain Duncan, an
international story that has the power to shape English understandings of lands
and cultures beyond England. The reports of Captain Duncan thus operate as a
historical primary source within this fictional text. This adds a sense of
realism, because it seems as though these could be the words of a real man, who
had a real story, who is being studied by a real person. Additionally, several
times throughout the book, there are extended passages explaining local
customs, none more prominently than when the text explains that during Hajj, in
Mecca, the worshippers “enter the former [Masjid al-Haram], and, walking seven
times round the little building contained within it, say, ‘This is the house of
God and of his servant Abraham’” (10–11). These insights into other cultures
gain veracity the same way Captain Duncan’s own story does: through the book’s
presentation of his journals as a primary source within the narration.
Captain Duncan’s journey begins as any journey does: with a
departure. In May 1781, he receives word that he must go to India to help sort
out his father’s affairs. Duncan leaves his spouse and two daughters in
England. Rather than directly sail around the Cape of Good Hope, he travels
over land, across Europe and the Middle East en route to India. He dots between
European cities like Brussels, Venice, and Augsburg. In Augsburg, Duncan finds
himself in a church when a friar indulges him in drink, issuing vague religious
proclamations about his journey. The friar is welcoming, joyful, and telling
stories that keep Duncan enthralled before continuing his journey.
He reaches a fork in the road at Venice, deciding whether to travel directly through Syria or through Egypt. After opting for a boat ride to Egypt, he meets a young English woman he hopes to bring with him to India, but her guardian stops his pursuits. When he lands in Alexandria, he still heads through Syria, taking his longest stop at Aleppo. His journey is largely defined by the different British people he meets along his travels, and Aleppo is no different. Those expatriates offer comfort, refuge, and rescue to Duncan throughout his trek. He connects with a large, traveling caravan going towards Mecca; one large enough to withstand bands of robbers along their path. It eventually links up with a few more caravans, each boasting legions of soldiers and beasts to fortify their trip.
Once he reaches Mecca, he meets yet another woman who wants to run away, this one suffering in the clutches of an older husband. With their plan hatched, Captain Duncan is quite prepared to sneak away, but the British Consul hears of this scheme and shuts it down. Duncan even faces local legal trouble resultant from his infringement upon a legal marriage, but the Consul smuggles him out of town with a Turkish guide.
The captain quickly irritates the overbearing guide with his mocking of the guide’s sense of seriousness and superiority, leading to some scuffles over horses and such. He specifically objects further when the guide traffics several women via their traveling party, but to no avail. They eventually reach Mosul, where their partnership ends and the captain links up with an Armenian merchant to assist him in his travels. The merchant brings him to the last leg of his journey, where he boards a ship to take him to India.
However, calamity strikes and they misjudge the monsoon patterns of the waterway and condemn their ship to ruin. Despite battling the waters and waves, the ship collapses when a hurricane forms and the crewmates subsequently drift across the sea. They wash ashore at Hydernagur, where Indian locals, who do not take kindly to British colonizers, capture them.
When leader Hyder Ally finds out that Captain Duncan is the son of the renowned Colonel Duncan, he wishes to turn Captain Duncan to his side in the war. At first, it comes in bribes, where Hyder offers men and money, but it later comes in threats, where Hyder’s men temporarily hang and torture Captain Duncan, before eventually conceding.
Duncan has a British companion in these troubles, one Mr. Wall.
Mr. Wall came on this journey out of financial necessity; he was in love with a
woman, and his previously wealthy father had wasted his riches on some poor
investments, leaving him destitute and unable to wed. He came to India to try
to recoup some wealth, enough to get married. But Mr. Wall never returns to
England and dies in Hydernagur, shackled at the feet to the still-living
There is still another English expatriate, however, for General
Matthews marched into town to save Captain Duncan from his captors. After
gaining freedom, Duncan enlists as a negotiator between British and Jemadar
forces, who are an independent sect of forces who revolted from Hyder Ally’s
son, Tippoo Sahib. The British military wants Jemadar’s support to help gain a
valuable garrison to fight back against Sahib. Successful in these
negotiations, Captain Duncan continues on his journey, moving farther across
India before even venturing out to China. He finally returns to England some
three and a half years later.
Brown, Susan, Patricia Clements, and Isobel Grundy, eds. “Mary Ann Radcliffe: Writing.” Orlando: Women’s Writing in the British Isles from the Beginnings to the Present. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press Online, 2006. http://orlando.cambridge.org 3 November 2021.
P. D. Garside, with J. E. Belanger, A. A. Mandal, and S. A. Ragaz. “The English Novel, 1800–1829: Update 4 (June 2003–August 2003).” Cardiff Corvey: Reading the Romantic Text 12 (Summer 2004). http://www.romtext.org.uk/reports/engnov4/ 3 November 2021.
Potter, Franz J. Gothic Chapbooks, Bluebooks and
Shilling Shockers, 1797–1830,
University of Wales Press, 2021.
Radcliffe, Mary Anne. The Adventures of Captain Duncan.
London, Hurst, 1802.
With its twists and turns, this transatlantic tale recounts heartbreak, love, desire, and greed. Where one end is tied, another frays, keeping readers in suspense. There is no shortage of the gothic in this text.
The cover of The Commodore’s Daughter is 21.75 cm tall and 13.5 cm wide with a spine thickness of 1.5 cm. While the cover does not have a special design, the two corners and part of the spine have a softer and lighter leather than the rest of the book’s cover, which is a rougher and darker leather. There are three stories bound within this volume and the spine is decorated with gold lettering with the titles: Lucelle. — Julia St. Pierre. — Commodore’s Daughter.
The Commodore’s Daughter, by Benjamin Barker, begins approximately two-thirds of the way into this volume. The pages are clearly in excellent shape. The title page is plain and includes the title, author, and publication information: “PUBLISHED BY E. LLOYD, 12, SALISBURY-SQUARE, FLEET-STREET, AND SOLD BY ALL BOOKSELLERS.”The next page, which starts the text of the story, also includes a detailed picture and caption, as well as the word, “complete” handwritten lightly in pencil at the top of the page. The Commodore’s Daughter was originally published as a “penny dreadful” serial, which is when small cheap portions of the story were published at regular intervals and later bound together. “No. 1,” “No. 2,” etc. appear at the bottom corners of their respective pages (outside of the border created around the text) to indicate the start of a new section of the story. Though the sections were all printed, sold, and originally purchased separately, this version is “complete” because these sections have now been bound together.
The Commodore’s Daughter is sixty-eight pages long. The text is small, always surrounded by a decorative border, and relatively easy to read with decent-sized margins. This copy of The Commodore’s Daughter also shows an error made during printing. Though the final chapter appears to be Chapter XIX, this book does not have nineteen chapters, but rather, eighteen, with one entire chapter having been skipped due to misnumbering. The book leaps from Chapter XVII to Chapter XIX, which should have been correctly numbered as Chapter XVIII. This erroneous Chapter XIX is printed on the back of the page with Chapter XVII. Interestingly, the side of the page with Chapter XVII is much more pristine and in better shape than the other side, which must have been exposed at one point to different environmental conditions.
The Commodore’s Daughter was written by Benjamin Barker—an author who was no stranger to publishing, as he released nineteen other works under his name. Two publishers produced The Commodore’s Daughter—Frederick Gleason in Boston, Massachusetts in 1846, and Edward Lloyd in London in 1847—and versions of each are housed in the Sadleir-Black Collection of Gothic Fiction.
The Lloyd and Gleason printings of The Commodore’s Daughter contain a few key differences. For instance, the 1846 Gleason printing (which is also available on Google Books) includes the alternate title, The Dwarf of the Channel, or, The Commodore’s Daughter. While both versions contain the same story content, the Gleason’s version prints the story in columns, and this copy also lacks the illustrations present in the Lloyd version. Lloyd’s 1847 printing also initially appeared serialized as a penny dreadful.
The Lloyd printing of The Commodore’s Daughter contains a preface dated December 1847. In this preface, “the Publisher” provides context for the story’s historical significance, characters, and plot, including the backstory and setting. The final sentence of the preface reads: “The moral of the tale is unexceptionable, and as the incidents do not violate probability, and the characters are so truly drawn, the Publisher anticipates a favourable reception for the work.”
Like much of gothic literature that has faded from view, The Commodore’s Daughter has not remained widely available and the publisher’s projected “favourable reception” was short-lived, if at all. However, there are a few notable online versions. In addition to digital copies of the Gleason printing available via Google Books, Historical Texts has a digitized version of the Lloyd edition. In 2010, the British Library Historical Print Editions released a reprinting of TheCommodore’s Daughter.
Benjamin Barker has a notable publishing history. Not only did he publish nearly twenty works under his name, but he also published under the pseudonym Egbert Augustus Cowslip. One of his most well-known works under this pseudonym was Zoraida; or The witch of Naumkeag! A Tale of the Olden Time. Another of Barker’s works published under his own name, Blackbeard, or, The Pirate of Roanoke, is listed on Amazon and, as of 2021, has several reviews including one with a complaint about its historical inaccuracies, which reiterates the preface of The Commodore’s Daughter regarding the accuracy of accounts of the American Revolution.
Narrative Point of View
The Commodore’s Daughter is narrated in the third person (and occasionally with first-person plural moments) by an unnamed omniscient narrator who does not appear in the text. The narration feels relatively modern, but still contains antiquated vernacular. The paragraphs and sentences are generally lengthy. Yet, there still are inconsistencies in the style, with some paragraphs being much longer or using more eloquent vocabulary than others. The narration describes the characters and their feelings matter-of-factly (and frequently through characters’ actions), and there is very little text dedicated to introspection. The narration also contains much more description than dialogue.
Premising that the following romance is founded upon facts, with the details of which many of our readers may possibly be acquainted, and that for particular reason, we shall claim the privilege and take the liberty of introducing our principal characters under fictitious names, we now proceed to open our story as follows… (1)
By performing that this fictional story is based on facts—a common gothic trope—the narrator effectively tells the story with increased credibility (and possibly more shock value, as well). The narrator seeks to communicate a story by establishing familiarity with the characters in the book without revealing their names, thus providing an even foundation to readers and inviting everyone to enjoy the story with shared knowledge provided by the narrator from the beginning. The use of the first-person plural “we” also gives a more rounded and less singular feeling to the narration, enabling the fictional story to mimic an actual recounting of events.
In the early days of the American Revolution, before the colonies had banded together to declare their own independence, an old and cunning man by the name of Henry Hartville desired a fortune that was supposed to be inherited by a girl named Nora. Through his meticulous planning, Henry was able to trick Nora into believing that she was his daughter, all the while finding the perfect suitor for her so that Henry could obtain this wealth. The story then asks what Henry Hartville’s plan is to arrive at his goal.
An older, “deformed” man named John Ellery, frequently described in the text as a “dwarf,” has taken under his wing a “maniac” girl, Helen Morton, whose parents died years prior. John Ellery is one day met by a man carrying a letter and a black crucifix, who leaves soon after handing him these mysterious items. Despite not knowing who this man is or who the person who wrote the letter could be, Mr. Ellery accepts the commands listed out to him on the letter without any hesitation. One of those commands being to seek Nora Hartville out to keep under his wing, which the story reveals later.
Luckily, Mr. Ellery met with a ship on its way to a New England port, carrying several passengers in its cabins. Since he is able to pilot the ship, Mr. Ellery is gratefully accepted by the captain to guide it to its destination. Mr. Ellery, however, begins to take notice of a peculiar passenger whom the captain dreaded and wanted jettisoned as soon as possible. Through a careful line of questioning, Mr. Ellery finally realizes what he had hoped to find——the girl on the ship is Nora Hartville, the one the letter instructed him to keep under his wing for the next few years.
Mr. Ellery, Helen Morton, and Nora Hartville all arrive at Mr. Ellery’s home and remain there for several months in peace, as Helen and Nora become closer in what Helen describes as a sisterhood. Unfortunately, the fateful night arrives soon enough, and Miles Warton, the man who brought the letter and the crucifix to Mr. Ellery so long ago, finally comes to collect Nora Hartville for the suitor that Henry Hartville had set up for her. Miles Warton was a criminal, so Mr. Ellery knew his arrival at the cottage meant something was wrong. Prior to their meeting, Mr. Ellery heard Nora’s objections to the forced marriage, for the girl had her heart set on another man, George Wellington. Both parties soon realize that this night will not go as planned. In a shocking turn of events, Warton is killed by none other than Helen Morton, as she defends her adoptive father from being harmed by the criminal.
Through many events to follow, George Wellington, who was originally deprived of his desire to see his love, Nora Hartville, meets up with a man named Edward Hale, Helen Morton’s former lover. It is revealed that once George and Edward work together in their search for their lovers, the cruel and conniving plans of Henry Hartville can be overturned.
Yet before their arrival, another surprising figure appears: the former wife of Mr. Ellery, whose name is Julia. Long ago, Julia (the original owner of the black crucifix) held a gun to her husband’s chest in a fit of hatred and demanded that he follow the orders of whoever bears the crucifix. Now, Julia seeks forgiveness for the trouble she has caused, and the old man gracefully accepts. Seeing that Mr. Ellery accepted her apology, Julia knows she can now rest, and she breathes her last breath at her former husband’s humble cottage.
Finally having come to peace with his life, Mr. Ellery travels with his daughters and their suitors (who have found his cottage after a long search) to the ship of a well-known commodore, where it is revealed that the villainous Henry Hartville is aboard the vessel. Cornered and seeing that all his plans have been foiled, Henry Hartville takes a pistol to his head and pulls the trigger, allowing for Edward Hale and Helen Morton to fulfill their love and Nora and George Wellington to do the same. Through much pain and sorrow, Mr. Ellery finally gets to live a happy life away from shame.
The Life, Sufferings, and Uncommon Vissisitudes of Thetis, Dutchess de Lancy, Explaining her Birth on an Uninhabited Island, Where she Lived till she was Sixteen Years of age; The Misfortunes and Death of her Parents, and her Surprising Release from that Desolate Place by the Duke de Lancy, to Whom she was Afterwards Married: The dreadful Calamities she Experienced After – Till she Retired to a Monastry, There to end her Wretched Days.
This mock-autobiography published around 1805 to 1810 and written by an unknown author features a haunting, a murder, a birth, and an incestuous marriage—all in a remarkably short number of pages.
The Life, Sufferings, and Uncommon Vissisitudes of Thetis, Dutchess de Lancy is a chapbook bound within the second volume of The Entertainer. The elegant binding is brown calf-skin leather with a decorative marbling effect. The marbling effect was produced by the sprinkling of acidic dye onto the leather binding. The volume’s title, The Entertainer, is written in gold text on the spine of the book.
The story is framed as a fictional autobiography, with no known author. Its shortened title The Dutchess de Lancy is seen at the top of each body page. There are thirty-eight pages in the chapbook, one title page and one with an illustration. The illustration is in black and white and appears to depict Thetis kneeling and holding her baby, looking up towards the ghost of her mother. The mother is radiating light and gesturing towards a cottage in the left of the picture. Underneath the image is a quote from the story, written in cursive, “Awe struck, I cast a look of inquiry towards the Spectre. “Grieve not my Thetis,” it exclaimed [sic] The crimes of the parents are expiated by the sufferings of their unfortunate children.” The second page, opposite the illustration, is the title page.
The title page shows the full, longer title of the book. The full title, with capitalization included, is THE LIFE, SUFFERINGS, AND UNCOMMON VISSISITUDES OF THETIS, Dutchess de Lancy, Explaining her birth on an uninhabited Island, where she lived till she was sixteen years of age; THE MISFORTUNES AND DEATH OF HER PARENTS, AND HER SURPRISING RELEASE FROM THAT DESOLATE PLACE BY THE DUKE DE LANCY, TO WHOM SHE WAS AFTERWARDS MARRIED: The dreadful Calamities she experienced after – till she retired to a Monastry, there to end her wretched Days. The font size and capitalization change multiple times on the title page for emphasis. Notable characteristics include a long s, which is a stylized s that appears to look like an f. The long s is not present in the other pages of the book. Underneath the title are the printers and booksellers, along with their addresses in London, England. At the very bottom of the page is the price of the chapbook: sixpence. The title, the list of printers and booksellers, and the price are all separated by decorative dividing lines.
The pages within the chapbook have quite typical formatting. The book is just over 18 cm tall, and the outside of the pages are browning and grey-spotted. The font is small, and there are line skips between paragraphs. The pages are aging, and some are torn. There are bookbinder symbols consisting of a letter and a number to indicate the page order to the bookbinder. Evidence of prior ownership can be found before the chapbook title page, on the inside of the front cover. On the left is the name “Emma Webb” handwritten in a fading, fancy script, and on the right are notes written by Michael Sadleir. He wrote a list of all the chapbooks contained within the volume alongside their bookseller and the publishing date. The Life, Sufferings, and Uncommon Vissisitudes of Thetis, Dutchess de Lancy is the first chapbook in the volume, with the bookseller J. Ker. There is no publication date written, but the other books within the volume with known publication dates were published between 1800 and 1805.
There is little information about The Life, Sufferings, and Uncommon Vissisitudes of Thetis, Dutchess de Lancy. There is no known author, editor, or illustrator for the chapbook. There is no scholarship written on the work, and it can be inferred that the chapbook was not widely sold or read. However, there is a decent amount of information on its publisher, John Ker—abbreviated J. Ker in his work. Ker started publishing in 1800 and published an estimated fifteen titles, thirteen of which were of the gothic genre (Potter 38). Multiple sources claim that he was likely the son of John Ker, the third Duke of Roxburgh, and was married to the gothic author Anne Ker (Potter 38, Steele 70). It is known that John Ker also published some of Anne Ker’s work and that her husband was indeed named John. The two also shared business and family connections, so while not proven, it is very likely that John Ker the publisher and Anne Ker’s husband are the same person (Steele 70).
John Ker published from 1800 to 1810 and collaborated with many popular booksellers. Stephen Elliot, along with Nathaniel and John Muggeridge, were the booksellers that Ker associated with the most (Potter 41). In Thetis, Dutchess de Lancy, both Elliot and the Muggeridges are listed as booksellers. Two other booksellers listed in Thetis, Dutchess de Lancy are T. Evans and Kemmish. Alongside their names, their addresses are also listed. The UCLA Library and the New York Public Library both allege that since “1805–1810 marks the span of time that T. Evans and Kemmish operated from these addresses,” Thetis, Dutchess de Lancy was likely released during these five years. This period of time—1805 to 1810—aligns with the timespan when Ker was in operation.
According to WorldCat, there are five copies of Thetis, Dutchess de Lancy registered in various libraries across the world. The institutions that hold a physical copy are the University of Virginia, the British Library, the New York Public Library, the Library of Congress, and the University of California, Los Angeles. The British Library digitized their copy, and it can be found via the library’s website or on Google Books. All of the libraries except the Library of Congress mention that after Thetis, Dutchess de Lancy, the story Zelim and Almena follows. Zelim and Almena is unconnected plot-wise to the story of Thetis, Dutchess de Lancy, but the two stories seem to have been printed and sold in conjunction. Mention of Zelim and Almena can also be found in the Catalogue of the Private Library of Mr. George S. Davis, written by George Davis himself. In this document, all the books that were in Davis’s private library are documented. Davis details a copy of Thetis, Dutchess de Lancy that was bound with Sterne’s Maria and Zelim and Almena. He describes the story as “very curious” (Davis 190). This is the only documented review of the chapbook.
There are a few differences between the British Library’s copy and the University of Virginia’s copy of Thetis, Dutchess de Lancy. Instead of the illustration being opposite the title page at the front of the chapbook, the British Library’s version has the illustration opposite page 35. The British Library copy also has a more modern green hardback cover, in contrast to the copy at the University of Virginia, which has a spotted brown calf-skin leather cover. Despite these differences, the two copies are nearly identical, with the same font, bookbinder marks, and text on each page.
Narrative Point of View
Thetis, Dutchess de Lancy is narrated in the first person by the main character, Thetis. From the beginning, it appears as if Thetis is directly addressing the reader. However, on the final page, Thetis addresses the story to the Countess de Milleray. The Countess de Milleray is not mentioned in the chapbook at any other point, only on the last page in a footnote indicated by an asterisk. Thetis’s narration is intimate, fast-paced, and descriptive. Pages 13–21 are an interpolated tale told by Thetis’s mother, Jaqueline. Jaqueline’s long, uninterrupted dialogue is notable as the reader does not get any glimpse of Thetis’s thoughts or reactions.
Sample Passage of First-Person Narration:
During your* visit to the Convent a short time time [sic.] after my seclusion, I determined to disclose to you the real reasons of a conduct apparently so absurd: I have now been an inmate of these holy walls near twenty years – about six years since, I received a few lines, written by my beloved brother on his death bed, they were tranquil, and thanks to the Almighty, resigned; and he now sleeps in peace within the cemetery of his Convent – grief had broken the heart of the most amiable of men.
*The Countess de Milleray, to whom this narrative is addressed. (36)
Sample Passage of the Interpolated Tale:
“My sisters had bound my long glossy hair in bands round my head, fastening it on the top with bunches of flowers, in the manner of the Lacedeamonien women; this gave me a very singular appearance, and being different from the other girls made my person the more remarked.” (14)
The first-person point of view narrated by Thetis allows the reader to experience a first-hand account of Thetis’s inner thoughts and feelings. The narration choice makes the chapbook more intimate and realistic. While the Countess de Milleray is never mentioned in the book except for the final page, the reader is still able to get a sense of the relationship between Thetis and the Countess. Thetis reveals very personal information about what she experiences, detailing events that would be seen as shameful by society’s standards. However, Thetis is willing to describe these events in extreme detail, confessing her every thought and action candidly. The portion of the story where Jaqueline tells an interpolated tale includes none of Thetis’s thoughts. This section is very distinct from the rest of the novel as the reader is not told how Thetis feels about her mother’s story. This change in expression of Thetis’s thoughts causes a rift between this tale and the rest of the surrounding story. It removes Thetis from the narrative and brings the entire focus onto Jaqueline, Thetis’s mother.
Thetis, Dutchess de Lancy is a chapbook centered around the character, Thetis, and her eventful life. Thetis lives on a bountiful island which is deserted except for her mother and father. They tell her stories about their lives and she learns that they are on this island because of a shipwreck. One day, Thetis’s father becomes ill. Thetis is distressed and stays by his side as much as she can. When Thetis wakes up, she goes over to her father to find him no longer breathing. She looks towards her mother in confusion, as she does not understand what death means. They wrap Thetis’s father in woven grass and bury him. Thetis mourns her father’s passing.
Two years pass, and Thetis has worked through her grief. She has started to become the same joyous girl she once was. However, her mother remains somber. Thetis implores her mother to tell her why her spirits are down, and her mother agrees to tell Thetis a story. She reveals to Thetis that the man she called her father was not actually her father, but a man named Victor. She tells Thetis that her name is Jaqueline, and she is the youngest of six children in the Villenueve family from the town of Languedoc, France. They were a peasant family, but Jaqueline was spoiled more than her other siblings. She was given fancy clothes and accessories that rivaled the clothing of children from richer families, while her siblings had very little. One day, the young Marquis of the village decided to throw a coming-of-age celebration. The sixteen-year-old Jaqueline attended and caught the eye of a nobleman. They danced and flirted, and they developed sentiment towards each other. She gained the favor of both the nobleman and the Marquis, and her family was invited to fraternize with the nobility while the other peasants left.
After the party, the nobleman visited her residence and they conversed together, but were always under her mother’s supervision. One day, walking back from her grandmother’s, Thetis met the nobleman and the Marquis. They asked her if she would like to go on an outing with them. She was suspicious, so she refused and began to walk away. They started to pursue her and she ran, but they caught up to her. The nobleman lifted her in his arms and shoved her into a carriage, and they drove away.
She was taken to Paris by the nobleman, where she was given a room in a grand residence. Thetis resisted the sexual advances of the nobleman for a time, but she eventually gave in to his seduction. After many months, she became pregnant. Jaqueline was happy to have become pregnant, but the nobleman was angry. She did not see the nobleman again, and was informed by the Marquis that the nobleman is married with a wife and a son, and that he had left France for a distant settlement. When Jaqueline expressed concern for her parents, the Marquis told her that it was their fault for being punished as they were using Jaqueline to move upwards in society. Jaqueline was enraged by the nobleman and decided to get revenge. She bought tickets for a ship going to where the nobleman currently resided and was joined by her eldest sister. The beginning of the voyage was smooth, but a storm hit, and the ship sank. Jaqueline managed to survive and washed up on the island, while her sister died. Victor also washed up on the island and was the only other survivor. She went into labor, and Victor aided her. She had a baby girl, who they named Thetis. Jaqueline learned that Victor was the nobleman’s younger brother, and she told him her story.
Jaqueline finishes telling Thetis this story, and the pair go to sleep. The next day, Thetis’s mother, Jaqueline, is sick. She dies, and Thetis buries her and mourns for her. That night Thetis sleeps, but is awoken by a sigh. She sees her mother’s ghost, who beckons her to go outside. Thetis walks outside, but then faints. She is awoken by a French Duke standing over her. The Duke invites her to join him and his crew on their voyage to France. She agrees, and the two fall in love on the voyage. Once in France, the two marry, but Thetis feels uneasy. Her mother’s ghost appears to her again and tells her to beware. She is frightened, and the Duke tries to comfort her. Thetis soon becomes pregnant, and the Duke suggests that they take a trip to ease her worries.
The married couple, along with the Marquis and Marchioness de Beaufoy, visit Thetis’s mother’s village. They stay in the Chateau de Murat, welcomed by the Marquis who lives there. After a time, Thetis recounts her story to the Marquis of the Chateau de Murat and asks if he knows about her mother or the Villenueve family. The Marquis is alarmed by the question and rushes out to talk with the Marquis and Marchioness de Beaufoy and the Duke. The Marchioness enters and tells Thetis, “The crimes of the Parents shall be visited on the Children—that terrible denunciation is fulfilled” (32). She then proceeds to tell Thetis that the Duke, the man she is married to, is in fact her own brother. Thetis faints.
Thetis gives birth to a baby boy, and for three months she is bedridden. The only people she sees are the Marchioness and the attendants. After the three months have passed, Thetis feels a cold hand on her forehead while she is sleeping. It is her mother’s ghost, and she motions for Thetis to follow her and bring her child. Thetis follows the spectre into the village to a vine-covered cottage. The ghost stops, and then waves her hand towards her. Thetis looks down at her baby, who is now lifeless. “‘Grieve not, my Thetis,’ [the ghost] exclaimed, ‘the crimes of the parents are expiated by the sufferings of their unfortunate children’” (34). The ghost disappears, and Thetis remains in the same spot, grieving, until morning.
An old man exits the cottage and sees Thetis. He brings her and her dead child inside, and three women help her to sit down. Thetis tells the oldest woman her story, and the woman asks if her family name is Villenueve. Thetis says yes, and the old woman reveals that she is Jaqueline’s mother, and Thetis’s grandmother. The old man who first brought her in was her grandfather, and the two other women are her aunts. Thetis calls for the Marchioness, and she comes to the cottage. She explains to Thetis that the father of Thetis and the Duke was the nobleman who seduced Jaqueline. Thetis’s mother was Jaqueline, while the Duke’s mother was the nobleman’s wife.
The Duke is upset by his marriage to his half-sister, so he joins a convent of monks and takes his vows. Thetis likewise joins a convent and takes her vows. In the final portion of the story, Thetis addresses her writing to the Countess de Milleray. She says that she has lived in the convent for twenty years and feels her death approaching. She is writing out her story in hope of full pardon for her crime. “Thus, my dear Madam, have I opened my heart to you, and though you may not be able to esteem, yet grant your pity to the unfortunate Thetis” (36).
Set in Scotland, England, and Italy, Sarah Scudgell Wilkinson’s 1807 chapbook is a complicated tale of vengeance, violence, and long-lost love. And there’s a ghost!
At first glance, The Castle Spectre; or, Family Horrors: A Gothic Story is nothing more than a small, nondescript book. It is bound in a spotless cardboard cover, with no title or images on the front or back. The spine has a small red rectangle in which The Castle Spectre or Family Horrors is written in gold writing. The chapbook is about 12 centimeters wide, 20 centimeters long, and 1 centimeter thick.
Upon opening the book, it is evident that it has been rebound. The pages inside are soft, yellowed, and worn. The edges are tattered and uneven and the pages are of different sizes. The frontispiece appears to have been glued to a blank page for structural support, as it was ripped and about two inches of the page is missing from the bottom. This page contains a colorful image of two knights in front of a red castle. They are holding blue shields with gold crosses and are wearing red skirts. Behind the knights is a woman in a pink dress; she is surrounded by what appears to be sunbeams and looks as if she is floating with her arm raised. Some of the colors go beyond the edge of the picture, indicating it may have been painted with watercolor. Beneath the image is a caption that says, “GERTRUDE rising from the Rubbish before the CASTLE”. Below the caption is a note about the print company.
The title page
contains the title, written as follows: “The // Castle Spectre; // or, //
Family Horrors: // A Gothic Story.” The words are all uppercase, except for “A
Gothic Story,” which is written in a more elaborate gothic typeface. Beneath
the title is a quote by Langhorne, and then a note on the publisher: “London:
// Printed for T. and R. Hughes, // 35, Ludgate-Street.” “London” is written in
the same gothic font, while the rest is again all capitalized. Beneath this is
the publishing date: 1807. The title page has a small, rather illegible phrase
written in pencil in the upper left corner, and a large stain on the right. The
back of the title page is blank, except for a small stamp in the bottom left
corner that says, “Printed by Bewick and Clarke, Aldergates-street.” It should
be noted that the name of the author is never mentioned.
On the first page of the text, the title is again printed, but this time as The Castle Spectre. The chapbook contains thirty-eight pages, and the page sizes vary slightly. The upper and lower margins range from about 1.5 centimeters to 2.5 centimeters. “Castle Spectre” is written on the top margin of every page, and there are page numbers in the upper corners. The text is small and tight, and the inner margin is very narrow. On the left pages, the words run almost into the spine. On some pages, the text is fading and in certain instances, can be seen through from the back of the page. The pages are speckled with light stains, but none that obscure much text. The bottom margins of a few pages contain signature marks, such as B3, C, and C3. These marks indicate how the pages should be folded together, as the book was printed on one large sheet and then folded and trimmed. This binding technique also explains why the pages vary in size. There are nine blank pages at the end of the book. These pages seem newer and are larger; they were likely added to make the book slightly thicker, as it is difficult to bind such a thin book.
An index card is
loosely placed in the front of the book, containing the title and publishing
information. It appears to be written in Michael Sadleir’s handwriting and was
likely used for cataloging purposes. The note indicates that the book was
originally unbound, but then mounted on modern board and engraved. This
explains the discrepancy between the wear of the cover and that of the pages.
“Louisiana” is written on the upper left corner; Sadleir presumably got the
book from someone who lived there. A line on the bottom of the card indicates his
belief that the plot was plagiarized, as he notes the book is “a theft of title
The Castle Spectre by Sarah Scudgell Wilkinson was
printed by Bewick and Clarke for T. and R. Hughes in 1807. According to Michael
Sadleir’s handwritten note, the copy in the University of Virginia
Sadleir-Black Collection was originally unbound and then rebound as a
stand-alone chapbook. It appears there is only one edition, the 1807 version,
but some other copies are bound in volumes with other chapbooks. According to
WorldCat, there are six copies of this edition located at Dartmouth Library,
Columbia University Library, and the National Library of Wales, among others.
As of 2021, there are no digital copies of the story, though GoogleBooks has
information about the title, author, and publishing company.
Castle Spectre; or, Family Horrors: A Gothic Story is often misinterpreted
as being inspired by Matthew Gregory Lewis’s play The Castle Spectre.
Though part of the title is the same, the actual plot, characters, and setting
are entirely unrelated. The
confusion has arisen because Wilkinson published two chapbooks with similar
titles: The Castle Spectre; or, Family Horrors: A Gothic Story in 1807 and
The Castle Spectre: An Ancient Baronial Romance; Founded on the Original
Drama of M. G. Lewis in
1820. This second text, The Castle Spectre: An Ancient Baronial Romance,
is in fact based upon Lewis’s play (as accurately suggested by the subtitle),
with the same characters, setting, and plot. By contrast, the 1807 chapbook, The
Castle Spectre; or, Family Horrors, remains separate and unrelated except
for its similar main title.
Though the two Castle Spectre texts by
Wilkinson are entirely separate, they are frequently confused for one another.
For instance, Franz J. Potter notes in The History of Gothic Publishing
that Wilkinson “also adapted two versions of Matthew Lewis’s melodrama ‘The
Castle Spectre’ publishing The Castle Spectre; or, Family Horrors (2.58)
in 1807 with Thomas Hughes, and The Castle Spectre; An Ancient Baronial
Romance, Founded on the Original Drama M. G. L. (2.57) in 1820 with John
Bailey” (119). In his section on the “Family Horrors” version of
Wilkinson’s chapbook, Frederick S. Frank notes that she “transformed Lewis’s Gothic drama, The
Castle Spectre [l-219], back into a Gothic novel” (171). Franz J. Potter
similarly states that this “Family Horrors” version was “founded on Lewis’s The
Castle Spectre. A Drama in Five Acts” (Gothic Chapbooks 39). Even an
article in UVA Today makes this common error, stating “Lewis’ work was
regularly plagiarized and used in this way, as it is in ‘The Castle Spectre,
or, Family Horrors: a Gothic Story,’ by Sarah Scudgell Wilkinson” (McNally).
that make the claim of a link between The Castle Spectre and Matthew
Lewis’s play cite Montague Summers’s Gothic Bibliography, which lists The
Castle Spectre by Sarah Wilkinson without specifying the subtitle or a
publication date. Summers’s entry reads: “Castle Spectre, The. By Sarah Wilkinson. Founded upon Matthew
Gregory Lewis’ famous drama, The Castle Spectre, produced at Drury Lane
on Thursday, December 14th, 1797” (268). Of the libraries that own The
Castle Spectre; or, Family Horrors, many list M. G. Lewis as an author, and
these library catalogs frequently reference Summers’s Gothic Bibliography,
echoing his statement that the story is “Founded
upon Matthew Gregory Lewis’ famous drama ‘The castle spectre’.” Some
libraries note the link to Lewis’s play based upon The National Union
Catalog Pre-1956 Imprints, and this source also cites back to Summers’s Gothic
Bibliography. It is possible Summers’s entry for The Castle Spectre
was misunderstood to be about the “Family Horrors” version, when it was meant
to reference the “Baronial Romance” version, which specifically claims to be
founded upon Lewis’s play. Whatever the reason, this misunderstanding has
spurred many sources, including library catalogs, to erroneously note a
connection between the plot of Lewis’s The Castle Spectre play and
Wilkinson’s The Castle Spectre; or, Family Horrors chapbook.
It should also be noted that some sources
discuss a similarity between the two distinct chapbooks Wilkinson wrote under
the titles The Castle Spectre. Diane L. Hoeveler, for instance, suggests
that Wilkinson was plagiarizing herself in these two chapbooks, indicating she
believes the plots to be “virtually identical and indicate how authors as well
as publishers had no qualms about ‘borrowing’ literary texts from others as
well as themselves” (14). Hoeveler writes, “Wilkinson’s The Castle Spectre:
An Ancient Baronial Romance is actually her second attempt to capitalize on
the popularity of Lewis’s 1797 drama The Castle Spectre”, naming as the
“other version” The Castle Spectre; or, Family Horrors: a Gothic Story
(14). Yet while it is true that Wilkinson used the same main title for two
different books, they are not “virtually identical”: the plots, characters’
names, and setting of the story have no similarities. A potential reason for
the similar titles was that Wilkinson used the phrase “Castle Spectre” precisely
because of its popularity at the time to attract readers, despite the “Family
Horrors” version being a unique story.
On a separate note, the title page of The Castle Spectre; or, Family
Horrors includes a portion of a poem by John Langhorne. It appears to be an
edited stanza from a longer poem entitled “Fable VII. The Wall-flower” from his
collection of poems, The Fables of Flora (Johnson 447). It is unclear
whether the poem was adapted by Wilkinson or the publishing company, but the
poem alludes to the idea of remembrance and telling the stories of the dead.
This theme reflects in the story of Gertrude’s death and Richard’s journey of
Narrative Point of View
Spectre is, for the most
part, narrated in the third person by an anonymous narrator who is not present
in the plot. There are a few occasions throughout the story when the narrator
speaks in first-person plural, referencing the history of the story and its
translations. The narration follows the knight, Sir Richard, throughout the
entire story, and much of the chapbook contains dialogue and interpolated tales
spoken by a variety of the characters with whom Richard interacts, such as
Douglas. The narrative focuses more on plot and less on characters’ thoughts,
and the sentences are often long and descriptive. There is a bit of insight
into Richard’s feelings, but the narrator does not discuss other characters’
emotions unless the characters reveal their feelings aloud in dialogue. There
is also an instance where Sir Richard and Sir Kenelm exchange letters, which
are printed within the text in quotation marks; both Sir Richard and Sir Kenelm
refer to themselves in the third person in their letters. At times when Elenora
(also known as Gertrude) appears as a ghost, she also refers to herself in the
third person during her tales.
The moon, emerging from a black cloud just as he entered, enabled him to ascertain he was in a grand spacious hall, in the centre of which stood a large banquetting table He seized an extinguished taper, which he with difficulty lighted by the friction of some wood he found on the hearth. He had now an opportunity to observe the place more accurately. The table was laden with viands, some in a putrid state, some mouldering to powder; and to his eager view appeared vases filled with the juice of the generous grape. In a corner of the apartment he beheld the body of a man extended in death on the floor, the boards of which were stained with congealed blood. A murder had been committed here but a short time before. The sight of this did not alarm him; he knew not fear, but emotions of pity rose in his breast, for the unfortunate object before him, and a desire to develope the mysteries of the place he was in, prevailed over ever other consideration. (6)
First-Person Plural Narration:
But we must not anticipate in our story too much, and the Scottish manuscript from whence we translate, mentions some transactions that will better appear hereafter. In the mean time we must observe that after much consultation on these transactions, Lord Mackworth advised Sir Richard to appoint a meeting with Sir Kenelm at midnight. (16)
Sample of Sir
Richard’s Third-Person Letter to Sir Kenelm Cromar:
Sir Richard, brother to Lady Gertrude, returning from the Holy Wars, finds his venerable father mouldering into dust, brought to the grave by grief for the untimely fate of a beloved daughter, whose fair fame was basely called into question, and her dear life sacrificed to lawless love. —Sir Kenelm must account for this, and inform Sir Richard what is become of a dear sister. For which purpose Sir Richard challenges Sir Kenelm to meet him, in single combat, near that castle-gate where he, Sir Kenelm, banquetting with his new bride, beheld the injured shade of Lady Gertrude, when, for a slight offence, he stabbed his cupbearer. Eight days hence, exactly at the hour of twelve, Sir Richard will be there, with two of his most trusty friends. (16)
Sample of Sir Henry
Mackworth’s Interpolated Tale:
At his return to Palestine, finding I was in confinement, his generosity and friendship made him hazard his life to rescue me from my confinement. He succeeded beyond our most sanguine expectations. We continued together some time. We had but one heart, one purse, and were a pattern of friendship throughout camp and country. Clemena was often the subject of our conversation. I ventured to hint the inclination I felt for her, from his description and the picture I had seen. ‘Alas!’ said he, ‘I dare not flatter you with the least hope of success; my sister has been educated in a convent, and ever been intended by our parents for a nun, their fortune being too small to support us both in a manner suitable to our rank…’ I remonstrated with Vertolini on the cruelty of secluding a beloved sister, for life, within the dreary walls of a convent… (33).
The various types of
narration in The Castle Spectre allow for a deeper exploration of
different characters’ actions and emotions, as well as greater detail on the
setting and history of the story. The Castle Spectre utilizes several
techniques to augment suspense. On numerous occasions, the names of the
characters Richard meets are not revealed until the end of that individual’s
story, and the reveals often occur casually amidst the dialogue or narrative
with little emphasis. The reveal of the characters’ names has a great impact on
the entire plot, and the narration’s nonchalant delivery augments the suspense
and adds an element of surprise. As a result, many key details and surprises
are revealed suddenly and without foreshadowing. Though the narrator does not
touch on characters’ feelings often, the dialogue provides greater insight into
the different characters’ personalities and emotions. Because so many different
plots are embedded into the chapbook, the story is both engaging and, at times,
confusing: the chapbook is extremely fast-paced because so much action is
packed into each sentence, and in some cases it is difficult to follow the story
and to distinguish who is speaking or who characters are because the plot jumps
back and forth in time or between the different story lines. The moments of
first-person plural narration detail the story as if it were true by discussing
the sources from which the story was translated. These moments where the
narrator speaks as “we” directly to the reader, along with the detailed setting
and long rambling sentences, all conspire to make the story oral in feel, as if
being told to a friend.
Spectre follows the knight
Sir Richard over a period of several years. The story begins on a stormy night
in the Scottish Highlands. Sir Richard is traveling to his father’s castle in
the Grampian Mountains after a four-year deployment to the Holy War in
Palestine. He seeks shelter to ride out the storm, but no one will take him in.
In a flash of lightning, he sees the turret of a castle; he sounds his bugle
numerous times with no response, so he dismounts his horse and tries the door.
By chance, the door is unlocked, and Richard enters the banquet hall of the
castle. With only the moon and occasional flash of lightning to guide him, the
knight explores. The hall is filled with food and drink that appears to have
been placed there recently. In the corner of the hall lies the dead body of a
man; the floor is soaked with congealed blood. Sir Richard vows to unravel the
mystery of the catastrophe that occurred.
Sir Richard tours
the rest of the castle, which is magnificently decorated in gothic splendor. No
one is to be found and all is silent. He comes upon a great bed, and as he is
exhausted from his journey, he jumps in and falls into a deep sleep. At one
o’clock, a bell rings and Sir Richard wakes to the curtains of the bed being
ripped open. Standing at the foot of the bed bathed in blue light is a veiled
woman in a white dress. As he approaches her, the woman’s veil falls off and a
stream of blood gushes from a wound in her side. Richard looks into the woman’s
face, and it is none other than his sister! He calls to the apparition “by her
name Elenora” (though later in the story she is referred to predominantly as
Gertrude, with no explanation given for the shift in name) (7). Elenora the
apparition stands, not speaking, while holding her hand over the seemingly
fresh wound in her side. After repeated prodding, Elenora explains the story of
her brutal murder in the castle, revealing that two years after Richard left,
she married the owner of this castle, and in a fit of frenzy he stabbed her
(while she was pregnant) and left her corpse in a rubbish pile. Left to rot
without a proper Christian burial, she haunts her murderer and his new wife.
The scene that Richard came upon in the banquet hall was the remnants of their
wedding, which was ruined when Elenora appeared and terrorized the guests.
Finally, with a clap of thunder and a flash of lightning, Elenora vanishes in a
swirl of blue flame.
Shocked and overcome
with emotion, Sir Richard decides to leave and avenge his beloved sister. He
lets his horse take the reins on the way to his father’s estate and does not
realize the horse has gone down the wrong road. They come upon a cottage where
he is treated with great hospitality. The owner, Douglas, tells the story of
his childhood and time as a soldier, where he saved the life of the “worthy
nobleman, under whose banners I had enlisted” and was thus assured protection
and this cottage (11). Douglas explains that the nobleman has died and his son
is at war; he fears thar if he does not return, Sir Kenelm Cromar will take
over his estates and leave Douglas and his family to live out their days in
poverty. During this story, Douglas reveals the name of his former nobleman to
be Duncan, and Sir Richard reveals that Duncan was his father! This means that
Sir Richard is the son who has now returned home; the Douglas family rejoices.
Douglas’s story also reveals that Sir Kenelm’s first wife was Elenora (now
predominately referred to as Gertrude in the story). Upon Gertrude and Kenelm’s
marriage, Ally (Douglas’s daughter) moved into the castle where Sir Kenelm
“began to take great liberties with her” (12). Douglas says Lady Gertrude is
now missing and so is Ally. Because of Gertrude’s ghost’s daily visits, Sir
Kenelm and his new wife have moved to his hunting lodge so the castle remains
uninhabited. Sir Richard thanks Douglas and promises him a life of friendship
When he finally
arrives home, the servants rejoice at the return of their young lord. They tell
the knight all that has happened and grieve for the good young lady Gertrude
and their master Duncan. Enraged, Sir Richard vows to avenge her and lay her
body to rest in a Christian burial. He seeks out his father’s friend, Lord
Mackworth, and tells the man the story. Richard decides to challenge Sir Kenelm to
single combat, with Mackworth’s assistance. As part of their agreement,
Mackworth wants Sir Richard to marry his daughter and Sir Richard agrees. Sir
Kenelm accepts Richard’s request, mentioning that though it is illegal to fight
in this manner, he will do it anyways to honor the memory of the venerable
Duncan. Meanwhile, Kenelm sends a letter to the king, requesting that he send
men and imprison Richard before the fight occurs. Instead, the king decides the
two men will have an impartial hearing at his court and he will support
whichever cause is more just.
It is now the night
of combat, and the marshal Lord Glencairn asks if any last-minute
accommodations can be made. Richard declines, unless Sir Kenelm will admit to
murdering Gertrude and surrender to public justice. Kenelm refuses, saying that
Gertrude abandoned him for a lover, and Richard is about to stab him in rage
when suddenly, they are both commanded prisoners and summoned to the king’s
court. Before they leave with the soldiers, the clock strikes one and in a
swirl of thunder and lightning, Gertrude appears. She shares her story and
explains that three times now she has prevented Kenelm from murdering his new
wife. She requests a proper burial, asks Mackworth to protect Richard, and
vanishes in a thick blue flame amidst a crack of lightning and tremendous peal
of thunder. Richard breaks the silence and tells the soldiers to bring them to
the court, so that he can share the full story in front of the king. The
hearing occurs, and Kenelm is found guilty and sent to prison; he later has a
public trial and is condemned to death. Gertrude’s remains are recovered and
she has a proper burial; all the churches in the surrounding area hold masses
in her honor and her final wish is granted.
goes home. He keeps his house open to serve his father’s tenants, and the
neighboring nobility congratulate him on his return from the war and for
bringing Kenelm to justice. Nevertheless, Sir Richard is unhappy; he mourns the
loss of his father and sister and misses his lost love Lady Jane. The story now
shifts back many years, before Richard went to the Holy Land. He fell in love
with Mackworth’s daughter, Jane, and she waited for him to return from the war.
In the four years of his absence, Jane denied many marriage offers from wealthy
prospects, one of them being Lord Glendour. Finally, Richard returns and they
are set to marry. We learn that two years before Richard left, Mackworth’s son
went to war and never returned. They mourned his death, and Mackworth received
Richard as a son and the heir to his estates and domains. As they prepare for
the wedding at the Mackworth estate, Richard returns to his familial castle,
and in his absence, an unfortunate event occurs. One evening, Jane is kidnapped
while on a walk through the gardens. Mackworth sends news to Richard, who vows
never to return until he finds his love. He searches for weeks with no sign of
Jane, until he comes across a hut offering refreshments to travelers. The man
inside mentions that a gagged woman and man had come through just before and
were on their way to Italy. Richard chases them to the river’s edge and
resolves to follow them. For years, he traverses all of Italy, hopelessly
searching convents for his lover. He falls ill and almost dies from grief, but
dreams of Jane and vows to recover and free her.
The story jumps back
in time to Jane’s kidnapping, and it is revealed that Lord Glendour, one of
Kenelm’s friends, fell madly in love with her and kidnapped Jane to be with
her. He requests her hand in marriage, but she refuses. She tricks him into
allowing her to pass the time in a convent in Italy, where she is watched over
by the Lady Abbess and not allowed to leave. Back in the present, Richard meets
an English man in the middle of Venice. They become friends and visit the man’s
villa. Richard recognizes someone in one of the family pictures and asks the
man to share the story of why he left England. The man says the story is long,
but he has written it down for his children and will one day give Richard a
copy to read. After months of visits, Richard reads the man’s story and is
surprised by the similarities between them. The man, Wentworth, was the eldest
son of a noble house in England. He fell in love with a peasant girl Louisa,
and though he was promised to marry a noble woman Anna, he runs away with his
lover. He fakes illness and tells his father he will go to the Holy War; Louisa
goes with him, and they marry and have a son and daughter. He returns from the
war and vows to sort out his betrothal to Anna. Leaving his wife and children
in the protection of her father, he goes back to his paternal castle. He sets a
plan for his brother, William, to marry Anna instead, and it works. Elatedly,
Wentworth returns to the cottage and is devastated to find Louisa and his
infant son missing. They were tricked by a letter claiming to be from him, and
Wentworth suspects his own father to have sent it. For five years, Wentworth
and his daughter travel the world, though nothing can make him forget Louisa.
Receiving word of his father’s ill health, he returns to England. On his death
bed, Wentworth’s father reveals he sent Louisa to a convent in Italy, but she
escaped. Wentworth and his daughter go back to Italy to search for her, but he
never finds Louisa. He lives like a recluse in his villa, and this is where Richard
reenters the story.
Richard again visits
Wentworth. The man reveals he is Richard’s uncle but used a fake family name so
that he may retire in peace, away from the nobility. Richard explains that
during his search for Jane, he saw Louisa and her son in the Pyrenees.
Together, Richard and Wentworth begin their journey to the mountains to find
the long-lost wife and son. They come across a cottage that Richard had visited
before and reunite with Louisa and the son. Wentworth, now revealed to be
called Sir George, decides to return to his family home in England. Richard
promises to join them, if they can spare a few weeks for him to search for
One night on his
return to the Italian villa, Richard sees two criminals attacking a man. He
intervenes, and they admit they were hired by Count Vertolini to kill him.
Richard and the man go back to his house, so they may speak safely. The young
man then explains his story: he came from England to fight in the Holy War and
had a father and sister at home who he had not heard from in years. During the
war, he became great friends with an Italian man, Vertolini, who had a sister
named Clemena. The man falls in love with her, but is then taken prisoner in
Palestine. Four years later, Vertolini bribed the soldiers and freed his
friend, and they carry on their travels together. The Italian man reveals his
sister is promised to a convent, so she cannot be with his friend despite his
love for her. They meet the sister in Italy, where he becomes even more
enamored. Clemena admits she does not want to join the convent, but it is
necessary for her honor. Vertolini vows to save her before she takes the veil,
and the siblings try in vain to convince their father to free her. The father,
Count Vertolini, refuses the young man’s wedding proposal, and advises him to
leave Italy immediately. It is now revealed that the young man is Sir Henry
Mackworth, Lord Mackworth’s long lost son and Jane’s brother.
Back in the present,
Richard and Henry plan to rescue Clemena. While at the convent, a girl hands
the knight a note telling him to return at midnight to find something of great
importance. He listens, and that night, finds Lady Jane at the convent! She
explains her story and begs him to free her. Richard and Henry return to the convent
to demand her release, but the Lady Abbess refuses. The next day, Henry
interrupts the veiling ceremony and saves Clemena from the convent. Richard
goes back to England with Henry and Clemena, where he hurries to find
Mackworth. Together, they apply to the king and receive his royal mandate to
imprison Lord Glendour. The king sends word to the Pope, and Mackworth and Sir
Richard go back to Italy to retrieve a freed Jane. With Richard’s lover in tow,
they return to England. Wentworth lives in his castle with his family, there
are numerous weddings, Glendour dies in a convent, and Sir Richard is blessed
with years of happiness with Jane, Henry, Wentworth, and the others. They all
live happily ever after.
Frank, Frederick S. “A Gothic Romance.” Horror
Literature: A Core Collection and Reference Guide, by Marshall B. Tymn, New
York City, R.R. Bowker, 1981.
This chapbook, set on the island of Mauritius, tells the forbidden love story of two best friends. The author, Bernardin, lived on this island for a short period and part of this story was inspired by an actual shipwreck he witnessed there.
The volume is 17.8 cm long, 10.8 cm wide. The book lacks a cover and the pages are held together by a half-worn binding spine. The first page is blank and does not include any information like the author’s name or title of the book. This shows that the book had a cover once but was torn off over time. There is a big sticker on the upper left of the first page indicating that the book is the property of the Sadleir-Black Collection. The last page of the book also acts as the last page of the story. There is a relatively larger “FINIS.” printed at the bottom center of the final page. Also printed at the very bottom of this page is “Printed by T. Maiden Sherbourne Lane,” indicating the exact location where the book was produced.
The book does not include any chapters. From beginning to end, the text is continuous and not interrupted by any titles or subtitles which explains why there is not a table of contents page at the beginning of the book.
Turning the pages requires full attention because they are very light and delicate. The first two pages have noticeable discoloration from age. Other pages have some brown and yellow spots resembling fingerprints, but they are mostly in a good condition. Also, on a few pages, there are some deformations in letters that make the reading challenging but not impossible.
At the top of the first page, there is a shortened title of the book, “Paul and Virginia.” This frontispiece page contains an illustration from one of the most thrilling incidents of the book. We see the devastated face of Paul and his companion mourning near Virginia’s dead body. Also, in the background, there is a sinking ship that gives some clue regarding how this incident might have occurred. Below the illustration, there is a caption: “The corpse of Virginia discovered upon the beach” and a page number (41) indicating where in the story this event occurs.
The title page follows, containing the full title of the book, “The History of Paul and Virginia or the Shipwreck.” The title is written with bold and varying font sizes. Some letters have extra inks on them which gives a spillover feeling. The title is followed by the author’s name which is the first and only time it appears. After the author’s name, there is a shipwreck illustration which is a similar version of the frontispiece. At the bottom of the page, the publication details are included which gives information about the publication location, the printer’s name, address of the publication facility, and the publication date. At the very bottom of the page, the price of the book included as “[Price Six-Pence.]”
This chapbook is an abridgement of a much longer novel originally published in French by Jacques-Henri Bernardin de Saint-Pierre. Paul and Virginia was first published in 1788 as the fourth volume of Studies of Nature in the French language with the original title of Paul et Virginie. The book was translated to English in 1789, for the first time by Daniel Malthus as Paul and Mary: An Indian Story, published in London. The novel is considered the first extensive exotic novel in France, and nineteenth-century authors quoted the book many times. Even though Bernardin’s most famous work is Paul and Virginia, he published many other books as a volume of Studies of Nature. As a result, he became a very popular literary figure during the French Revolution. The king granted him the administration of “Garden of the King” in July 1972 as a result of his literary accomplishments. After the revolution, Bernardin served as a professor of republican morality in the Ecole Normale Supérievre (Cook).
It is believed that, in 1777, Bernardin read selections from Paul and Virginia before its publication in the salon of Suzanne Necker (Cook). Hence, there is a good possibility that Bernardin started to work on his novel over ten years before its publication date. He finished the luxury quarto editing of the novel in 1806. This edition had gorgeous illustrations and designs but did not sell as much as expected. Cook notes that Paul and Virginia “has never been out of print.”
The story of Paul and Virginia is based on an island. A New York Times article, “The First Idea of Paul and Virginia,” explains that Bernardin was designated as an engineer on Madagascar in charge of the road construction team. After over five months of an exhausting voyage, he learned that he had been called in to manage the slave trade. He refused to go to Madagascar and remained instead on the Isle of France. He could not make any friends there because of his political opinions and lived in a solitary state with his only friend, a dog. He spent most of his time studying botany and natural history, and witnessed the wreck of a St. Gérant ship while he was living there. Everyone in the ship died except seven sailors. The Times article explains that the captain of the ship refused to take off his clothes and swim to the shore even though he had the opportunity. It is suggested that Bernardin watched all the incidents from the shore and that this story inspired the author greatly. When Bernardin wrote Paul et Virginie, he changed very few details of this incident.
Paul and Virginia was performed as an opera many times in Europe and North America, including the 1806 production Paul and Virginia: A Musical Entertainment, in Two Acts written by James Cobb. Even though the main scenario of the book was not changed, Cobb added some new characters to the script that do not appear in the book. Another notable opera adaptation was written by well-known French composer Victor Masse. Another New York Times article, “Affairs in France,” gives important details about how Bernardin’s character of Virginia was shaped. According to this article, in regards to the captain who went down with the shipwreck, “It would not be appropriate for a man of his position and dignity to arrive on shore entirely naked; besides he also has valuable state papers.” By contrast, Bernardin’s fictional Virginia was on the same ship and she actually swam to shore almost entirely naked. Virginia was not actually drowned because of her modesty, but the captain was.
Narrative Point of View
The History of Paul and Virginia is narrated in third person by an anonymous narrator with an omniscient point of view. The novel is written in the past tense without using flourished language. The narrator does not dive into the characters’ psychology; instead, the narrator uses simple expressive sentences to describe characters’ internal features and emotions. The story is told by using many flashbacks via Virginia’s letters to her mother which helps the novel to be more dramatic.
In this manner lived those children of nature. No care had troubled their peace, no intemperance had corrupted their blood, no misplaced passion had depraved their hearts. Love, innocence, and piety, possessed their souls: and those intellectual graces unfolded themselves in their features, their attitudes, and their motions. Still in the morning of life, they had all its blooming freshness: and surely such in the garden of Eden appeared our first parents, when coming from the hands of God, they first saw, and approached each other, and conversed together, like brother and sister. Virginia was gentle, modest, and confiding as Eve; and Paul, like Adam, united the stature of manhood with the simplicity of a child. (19)
In the novel, characters generally express themselves with dialogue, however, from time to time the narrator intervenes to portray their relationship in a wider context. The narration in this passage accounts for the intensity of Virginia and Paul’s affection for each other. The narrator justifies why it is morally and even Biblically right for Paul and Virginia to be together by emphasizing the innocence and purity of their relationship and aligning their romantic relationship with the bond of siblings, both of which are encompassed here by the comparison with Adam and Eve.
The novel starts with a long description of the island of Mauritius. The island is described as having a pleasant unbounded landscape that gives the feeling of having uninterrupted solitude to those who live there. The story of Paul and Virginia starts with the narration of an old man. He begins the story by telling important parts of Monsieur de la Tour’s life.
Monsieur de la Tour is a soldier in the French army. He decides to seek his fortune on the island of Mauritius and arrives there in 1726. He brings Madame la Tour with him to settle down and live a peaceful life. Monsieur and Madame de la Tour come from two different social classes. She belongs to a rich and noble family, while he belongs to an ordinary family without high social status. Even though her parents do not approve of this marriage, they marry without obtaining her parents’ permission. Soon, Monsieur de la Tour travels to Madagascar to purchase a few slaves to help him establish a plantation on the island. After landing in Madagascar, he becomes very ill and, after a while, he dies.
Madame de la Tour lives on the island on her own and learns that she is pregnant. She becomes friends with a young woman named Margaret who was abandoned by her husband when he learned she was pregnant. Margaret gives birth to a boy and Madame de la Tour gives him the name of Paul. After a short while, Madame de la Tour gives birth to a girl. This time, at the request of Madame, Margaret gives her the name of Virginia. The similar destiny of Madame and Margaret provides them with a strong friendship and they start to raise their children together. Paul and Virginia spend all their time together as if they are brother and sister.
After Paul and Virginia enter their teenage years, they begin to see each other as more than a friend. They start to express their emotions to each other with poetic descriptions. Even though both of them know there are sexual and romantic feelings between them, neither of them dares to advance their friendship to a romantic relationship at first. Virginia has a difficult time keeping her affection for Paul to herself. Madame de la Tour understands her daughter’s uneasiness and tells her that God placed them on earth to test their virtue and she will be rewarded after if she can be virtuous in this life. Virginia misinterprets her mother’s advice to be that it is not right to have a romantic relationship with Paul. Hence, she refuses to respond to Paul’s affection for her.
In the meantime, Margaret asks Madame about why do not they let their children marry since they have a strong attachment for each other. Madame de la Tour says that they are too young and poor to start a family together. She believes that they would not live a happy life until Paul comes of age to provide for his family by his labor. Virginia’s aunt wants her niece to return to France in order to give Virginia a proper education and help her to marry a nobleman. She also promises to leave all her fortune to Virginia. Madame de la Tour thinks this would be a good opportunity to separate Paul and Virginia until they come to an age where they can build a happy marriage. Virginia sees her mother’s request as a duty and decides to go to France.
One and a half years passes and, finally, a letter arrives for Madame de la Tour. Virginia says that even though she received a very good education on various subjects, she is still not happy to be so far away. Her aunt forces her to renounce the name of “la Tour” which she refuses to do out of respect to her father. In the meantime, Paul dreams about going to France, to be near Virginia and make a great fortune by serving the king. He believes that then Virginia’s aunt will allow them to get married.
After a while, Virginia sends her mother a letter about her aunt’s ill-treatment of her because of her request to marry Paul. The aunt disinherits Virginia and sends back her to Mauritius during hurricane season. Upon Virginia’s arrival on the island, a terrific hurricane appears. As a result, the ship is torn apart. Even though sailors tell Virginia to take her clothes off to be able to swim, she refuses to do so. She stays in the ship and drowns as Paul watches. After Virginia’s death, Paul’s health starts to decline rapidly. He becomes severely ill and dies two months later.
A collection of stories related to the sea and sailors, this 1807 chapbook includes humorous anecdotes as well as adventurous tales of heroic resilience.
Stories of the Ship
is a short chapbook of thirty-six pages, written in English. The book’s
dimensions are 10.5cm in width and 18cm in length.
Upon first glance, Stories of the Ship lacks a cover. The
first page, before the book is opened, is completely devoid of any printed
marking and allows for easy observation of the remnants of paper binding at the
spine. This is typical of chapbooks in that due to their small size they were often
rebound into one’s personal collection after being bought; it is probable that
when sold, the book possessed a paper cover.
On the interior of the first page, the first of two
illustrations within the pages of this text is found. Depicted in the foreground
is a black dog and a Caucasian man gazing at one another. The man is taking
refuge from the sea on the floating remnants of a wooden ship, which is
exploding in the background. No other living beings, aside from the man and
dog, exist in the picture. Notably, there is a slight brown discoloration in
the paper under the man’s leftmost leg (from the reader’s point of view).
Exactly beneath the image, very small italicized text reads: “Rarlow sculp”.
Below this, in larger cursive text, the picture is captioned: “Explosion of a
Dutch Ship.” Even further below, in the same small italicized text as right
under the image, is a reference to the publisher that says “London. Published
by W. Harris August 22nd 1807.”
To the right is the second illustration, centered amongst various fonts and formats that fill the length of the second page. From top to bottom, the second page begins with the title, completely capitalized: “STORIES OF THE SHIP.” Succeeding the title is a semicolon that transitions the reader into the subtitle, which spans the next few lines, reading: “OR, THE BRITISH SEAMEN’S PLEASING COMPANION: ILLUSTRATED IN A Series of Curious and Singular ADVENTURES.” It should be noted that the font size of “OR, THE” is significantly smaller than that of the title, and occupies its own line. “IN A” shares these same characteristics. Both “BRITISH SEAMAN’S” and “Series of Curious and Singular” are italicized and fill their own respective lines. “PLEASING COMPANION:” and “ADVENTURES.” share the same physical characteristics as the title, but are respectively in a slightly smaller font size. Similarly, they also occupy their own lines. Following this are two sets of horizontal double lines that serve as dividers, within which is a four-line rhyme. Beneath the second divider is the aforementioned illustration, depicting in black ink what appears to be a wooden ship (in the foreground) in contact with an iceberg (in the background). Also in the foreground, to the right of the ship, are three polar bears. Even further beneath the illustration, which bears no caption, is a reference to the place of publication and sale (“London”), the publisher (“Printed for W. HARRIS, 96, High-Street, Shadwell :”), the merchants (“And sold by T. Hughes, Ludgate-Street ; Champante and Whitrow, Aldgate ; A. Cleugh, and T. Soutter, Ratcliff-Highway ; S. Elliott, High-Street, Shadwell ; Wilmot and Hill, and A. Kemmish, Borough; and J. Mackenzie, Old Bailey.”), the price (“PRICE SIX-PENCE.”), and lastly, beneath a long and flat diamond divider, the printer (T. PLUMMER, PRINTER, SEETHING-LANE. 1807.”). There is no explicit reference anywhere in these first few pages, nor anywhere else in the text, to the author.
On the next page (behind that which first mentions the title),
there is a page that is blank save for “Entered at the Stamp-Office.” between a
singular line right above and below. Beneath is a square outline, slightly
discolored, that might have at some point been a stamp. However, there is
nothing distinguishable to indicate anything more than that. As for the rest of
the book, the size of the font remains constant, as do the margins, which are
generally a 1.5cm indent from the outside of the page, although it is important
to note that songs and poetry are more indented than the rest of the text. Page
numbers appear on the top of the pages, in the outermost corners. The title of
the chapbook, Stories of the Ship., is also centered, in all capital
letters, at the top of every page. Pages 17 through 20 are approximately 0.75cm
shorter than the rest at the bottom. There are some brown stains throughout the
pages of the book, but they are very small and irregular. The book ends with
“FINIS.”, and the last page of the story is also the last page of the book. At
the very bottom of the page, there is another reference to the printer, T.
There is not substantial information on the history of Stories
of the Ship. The author remains unknown; however, the publisher, printer,
and booksellers are divulged on the title page. The chapbook was published on
August 22nd, 1807 for William Harris and printed by Thomas Plummer, both who
practiced in London. This book is likely the original and only publication and
edition. There are only three copies worldwide, located at the University of
Virginia, The Mariners’ Museum Library, and within the New York Public Library
System. Stories of the Ship has not been digitized or reprinted since
1807; neither has it appeared in any scholarly works, which is likely due to
its apparent inconsequentiality in the literature and society of its time.
The publisher, William Harris, at 96, High-Street, Shadwell, also worked as a bookbinder and was active from 1802 until 1822 (Cowie 118). Stories of the Ship seems to be the only work for which he served as publisher. The printer, Thomas Plummer, was active from 1798 until 1836 and printed many chapbooks and a couple of works related to sea fiction. The booksellers include Thomas Hughes (a. 1807–1833), Champante and Whitrow (wholesale stationers, fl. 1784–1801), Alexander Cleugh (a. 1785–1811), Thomas Soutter, S. Elliott, Wilmot and Hill, Ann Kemmish (fl. 1800), and Joseph Mackenzie (a. 1806–1807). All are located in London, and S. Elliott and Thomas Hughes are named to be some of the most frequent sellers of well-known author Anne Ker’s bluebooks. However, there is no information on the popularity or public opinion on Stories of the Ship.
There are two illustrations within the first couple pages of the book. The first, a frontispiece, is captioned by a reference to the British printmaker and engraver Inigo Barlow, reading “Rarlow sculp,” as in Barlow sculpture. Notably, the name is misspelled; however, the font and phrase match the captions of many of his other illustrations. He was active most prominently around 1790. The frontispiece image depicts a scene from the first story within the book, “Affecting Narrative of a Dutch Sailor,” in which a Dutch ship explodes. It is likely that the author derived inspiration from an actual event that occurred earlier in the year 1807. The disaster took place in Leiden, Holland, in which a wooden ship, carrying hundreds of barrels of gunpowder, exploded, resulting in fatalities, injuries, and destruction (Reitsma 1). The incident was eventually attributed to the neglect of the crew. This scenario is very similar to the plot of “Affecting Narrative of a Dutch Sailor,” in which not the ship but instead the protagonist is Dutch, and this ship is not in town, but rather out at sea. Another potential source of inspiration for the author is the municipality and castle of Ortenberg, which shares a name with the aforementioned Dutch sailor protagonist. Ortenberg (the town) is located not far from the Black Forest, and the castle, built in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, is located just above the town. Again, however, these connections are not certain.
There is an entry for a book entitled Songs of the Ship (for
1807), or, the British Seamen’s Cheerful Songster in John Stainer’s book
cataloguing his collection of English song books. The details under this entry
match the publisher, publication year, and page length of Stories of the
Ship; however, the description, which reads “containing a valuable
collection of the newest and most celebrated Sea-Songs, sung at all Places of
public amusement, To which are added, a Collection of Toasts and Sentiments” is
uncharacteristic of Stories of the Ship, which implies likelihood of an
accompanying songbook by the same author (Stainer 79).
Point of View
The first (and longest) story of the chapbook Stories of the Ship
has the most complex narrative point of view within the book, but is predominantly
told in first person by a Dutch sailor. Despite its narrative complexity, the
story is told in a concise and objective manner, as it recounts a past
adventure. Though not necessarily of the same form, all other stories in this
book maintain a similar condensed style. However, the stories within the book
vary in narrative point of view. Sometimes identified, sometimes anonymous, the
narrators speak either in first or third person as well as in either present or
past tense. The third-person narrators within this book tend to be objective
and omniscient, acting as observers to their narratives, while the first-person
narrators are necessarily more limited in their narration even as they function
as characters within the story themselves.
Sample of First-Person Narrator from “The Dolphin, a droll
The dame now grinned with passion, but Joe perceiving she quickened her pace, snatched up the rod and net, and made the best of his way, still pointing to the sign as he passed under it, with his mother at his heels. She’ll not look up for a guinea, thought I. No more she did, and hobbling on at a pretty quick pace, was soon out of sight. (16)
Sample of Third-Person Narrator from “An Irish Sailor’s Opinion
of Matrimony, a laughable Tale”:
The steward (for he was captain’s steward) was of a disposition that required but little invitation, particularly from a friend. He ate heartily, drank free, and cracked his joke. (25)
Overall, the narrative style is plot- and action-based. It is
also non-personal, and in this lack of emphasis on emotion, it becomes easy to
focus on and follow the swift narrative style of so many of the sections.
Notably, the lack of emotional emphasis exists even when the form is more
personal, as occurs in the last story of the book, written in the form of a
letter. Additionally, despite the disparity of content and narrative style,
there is a surprising lack of confusion derived from these constant switches.
This is likely because of the storytelling style and introduction of many of
the narrators, as can be seen in the aforementioned excerpts. In “Affecting
Narrative of a Dutch Sailor,” the dominant narrator is introduced by another,
as if the story is being passed along repeatedly, and has eventually made its
way into this book. This embedded narrative style is seen in the opening of “Affecting
Narrative of a Dutch Sailor,” which reads as follows:
You know, said Ortenberg, (for that was his name), that I left Holland clandestinely. The ship in which I went, was destined to sail for Batavia; the captain was an honest fellow, and had promised to procure me a place in the counting-house of one of his friends at Java. (3)
The story begins with an implied third-person narrator; however,
beyond this first sentence there is no narrative point of view other than that
of the first-person narration by Ortenberg, the main character.
In other instances, there is an objective narrator that
infrequently uses first person, as their role within the story is limited. Such
is the case in “The Dolphin, a droll Story,” excerpted above. This casual
approach to the narratives encourages an element of humor as well as insinuates
that the book is perhaps meant to be read aloud.
Stories of the Ship is a collection of short stories and anecdotes; the length of each section ranges from a few lines to multiple pages. The following summaries, listed in the order they appear within the chapbook, will reflect these inconsistencies in length. Additionally, the capitalization and punctuation within titles reflect their printing in the book.
Affecting Narrative of a
This story is told by a
sailor named Ortenberg, who recalls “the Explosion of the Ship in which he was,
and his miraculous preservation” (3). This ship experiences smooth sailing
until an alarm is raised regarding a fire in the hold; a huge endeavor is made
to extinguish the fire, but the efforts prove fruitless. There is no land or
ship in sight, and general panic aboard the ship heightens. Most everyone
steals away on boats, and the captain and Ortenberg attempt to chase them down
in the ship, but success is again just out of reach. Shortly thereafter, the
oil-casks catch fire, and it is not long before the entire ship explodes.
Upon returning to his
senses, Ortenberg discovers himself to be the only survivor and laments his
circumstances. He and his dog are reunited. Ortenberg then catches sight of the
longboat, which had once accompanied the ship, a great distance away. As dawn
rises the following day, the boat is near, and he is able to join those aboard
who had escaped the ship before its calamity. Ortenberg is appointed captain of
the longboat. They journey on, eventually run out of food, and are forced to
resort to eating Ortenberg’s dog. Meanwhile, the people grow doubtful that land
is near, and Ortenberg is given three days to discover land, or a plan of
cannibalism will unfold. As a storm clears from the sky, land and a Dutch fleet
are revealed. The story ends with the weary survivors being rescued and fed.
A British Seaman’s
Narrated in first-person
by “a Gentleman,” this story recounts the gentleman opening a subscription at a
library for a crazy old cottager who had lost her sailor lover (13). An English
sailor, upon hearing her story, laments her tale in a series of metaphors
comparing the woman to a ship. As the sailor departs the library, a Bond-street
lounger insults him behind his back. The sailor overhears this comment and
defends himself as a sailor under a commendable and honorable king,
simultaneously attacking the honor of the lounger and leaving him looking like
The Dolphin, a droll
Told by an anonymous
first-person narrator, begins with a mother chastising her son, Joe, for not
catching enough fish. She proudly declares that she will do much better than he
has, and will even catch a dolphin. The woman casts her line into deep and
muddy water, and somehow her rod snaps. She then pulls the line in only to find
that she had pulled in a stone. Having made a fool of herself (broken rod,
muddy dress, and all), Joe pokes fun at her predicament.
Remarkable Instance of
the Affection of a Bear for her Cubs, extracted from Commodore Phipps’ Voyage
third-person, this tale begins with three bears, a mother and two cubs, making
their way over ice towards ships nearby where a sea-horse had been killed. Feasting
on the sea-horse, the bears are shot by the sailors, killing the cubs, and
wounding the mother. Though in pain, the mother bear presents more meat to her
cubs, hoping in vain that they are alive. They remain unmoving and she
“endeavor[s] to raise them up” with no success (17). Moaning all the while, she
walks away but returns repeatedly, and when she realizes they are dead, growls
towards the ship, to which they respond by shooting her dead.
Adventures of Arthur
Douglas, the little Scotsman, and Tom Reefem, an English Tar, an affecting
This story unfolds with Tom, an experienced sailor, offering aid to a despairing Arthur, who has run away from home to travel the world. Tom, taking pity on Arthur, feeds him, but not before Arthur has mistaken the returning Tom for a ghost. After eating, Arthur’s suspicions of Tom wane in favor of gratitude. Tom introduces Arthur to the captain, whose approval is contrasted by that of a London trader, who sentences Arthur to return to his parents. Arthur, despairing, is given an opportunity by the captain to work aboard his ship. He works under Tom, who he grows to love as a father, and after a few years, returns to England having become well-learned. However, just before docking, war has been declared against France, and Tom and Arthur are wounded in a fight against the French. Arthur, however, proves valiant in further engagements and is appointed midshipman by an admiral. Tom continues to accompany Arthur in his new role, and their friendship is well known.
An Irish Sailor’s
Opinion of Matrimony, a laughable Tale
third-person, this is a conversation between shipmates Patrick and Thomas.
Thomas wants their captain to be married, but Patrick wholeheartedly disagrees
with the notion, indicating that marriage is too confining. Thomas responds by
advocating the absence of danger in marriage; Patrick refutes that indeed there
is danger, most prominently in the form of jealousy, but also in marriage’s
other passions and complexities.
Also told by a
third-person narrator, this anecdote describes a “finical lieutenant” asking
for a light, which he calls a “nocturnal illumination” to be put out, and when
he is misunderstood, he complains of the sailor’s stupidity (28). The boatswain,
to whom the lieutenant speaks, translates the command into the words of a
sailor, and the job is completed.
Anecdote of Admiral
In which a dying admiral
leaves his son a small fortune devoid of dirty money.
Anecdote of a Sailor and
In which an English
sailor attempts to instigate a Quaker to violence, to which the Quaker squeezes
and shakes but does not strike the sailor into submission.
In which a gang accosts a gentleman, claiming they need him to teach their guards manners.
This is a story of a
hero who first sneaks aboard an enemy French ship and attempts to pull down
their colors, while holding off, successfully, several attackers. He then saves
a fellow countryman’s life, and shortly thereafter narrowly escapes death with
a fractured leg, but continues to fight on his knees. After, he is doing well
in the hospital.
The Admiral’s Escutcheon
In which an admiral’s
home is mistaken for an alehouse by a sailor, who asks for a cup of ale. The
admiral then orders his servant to bring one to the sailor, and tells him that
he might pay the next time he comes by.
King Charles II and the Sailor
This is a correspondence between Jack, “the best seamen in [the] navy,” headed for the gallows as a result of stealing, and King Charles Rex, who saves him from the gallows (32).
A Sailor’s Frolic
This anecdote tells of a
sailor endeavoring for “every tub [to] stand upon its own bottom” (32).
An anecdote about
colliers at a ball who aim to level themselves with well-clothed sailors.
Account of the Battle of
A letter from a sailor
by the name of Jack Handspike to his landlord regarding his experience in the
Battle of Trafalgar. He begins by commending Lord Nelson but quickly
transitions to the onset of the battle, during which Jack injures two of his
fingers and ends up cutting them off and wrapping them so that he is able to
captain a gun on the main-deck until the British victory. He then asks for
several items to be bought for his wife, Sall, and reassures that although he
is injured, and that he will be well recompensed for his service to the
country. The letter ends with a song celebrating the death of Lord Nelson.
Cowie, George. The Bookbinder’s Manual: Containing a Full
Description of Leather And Vellum Binding : Also, Directions for Gilding of
Paper & Book-edges, And Numerous Valuable Recipes for Sprinkling,
Colouring, & Marbling : Together With a Scale of Bookbinders’ Charges : a
List of All the Book And Vellum Binders In London, &c., &c. 5th ed.
London: William Strange, 18501859.
Stainer, John. Catalogue of English Song Books Forming a
Portion of the Library of Sir John Stainer: With Appendices of Foreign Song
Books, Collections of Carols, Books On Bells, &c. London: Printed for
private circulation by Novello, Ewer, 1891.
Steele, John Gladstone. “Anne and John Ker.” Cardiff Corvey:
Reading the Romantic Text, no. 12, 2204.
Stories of the Ship OR, THE BRITISH SEAMEN’S PLEASING COMPANION: ILLUSTRATED IN A Series of Curious and Singular ADVENTURES. William Harris, 1807.
A tale of adventure, romance, and friendship, John Corry’s 1803 chapbook follows a protagonist’s escape from political persecution, and later follows the story of distant lovers.
Arthur and Mary, a gothic novel written by John Corry, was published in 1803. Arthur and Mary is currently located in the Sadler-Black Collection of Gothic Fiction in the University of Virginia’s Special Collections Library. It is interesting to note that the edition of Arthur and Mary in the University of Virginia’s Special Collections Library bears the full title Arthur and Mary, or the Fortunate Fugitives. The title page of this book looks especially modern, with a clear description of the title, author, and publisher of this book. The author’s name, John Corry, is qualified by a sentence reading “author of a satirical view of London, The Detector of quackery, & c.” While the general organization of the book looks modern, such as the title page and the way that book is split into chapters with page numbers at the top of each page, the age of this book is clearly seen in the novel’s appearance. This novel is fairly small, about 6.75 inches long by 4.25 inches wide, with delicate, thin pages. These pages are yellowed, somewhat textured, brittle, and have faint fingerprints on a few pages. The color of these pages resembles a paper that is covered with marks from tea bags. It appears as though only a thin layer of glue is holding the pages of this book together, as there is no clear material binding. This novel most likely had a leather binding with string running through each page holding the pages together, as this was a common binding method during the time period in which Arthur and Mary, or the Fortunate Fugitives was printed. Similarly, there are multiple holes on the side of the pages, suggesting that there was in fact a string that used to hold this book together. This book is clearly aged, and representative of what a book printed over two-hundred years ago would look like.
The overall appearance of this book is worn, used, and stained. The structured format of the title pages and chapters as well as the detailed illustration on inside of the front cover, gives an elegant feel to the book, and suggests thoughtful writing. However, the fact that the original binding of this book is not preserved and that the gothic genre was considered an unsophisticated genre during the time that this book was printed lends a cheap feel to this book. When looking at a randomly selected page in the book, it is clear that there is consistency within the novel. For instance, like the various pages in the novel, the randomly selected page was yellowed, somewhat textured, brittle, and had faint fingerprint marks. The text on all of the pages appears smaller than a standard font in more modern novels, which might be due to the small size of the book in general.
The illustration on the inside cover of the first page is captioned “Mary half dead, held by the rock with the instinctive eagerness of self-preservation,” and depicts a scene from the novel. In the foreground, this illustration depicts a woman holding on to rocks in the middle of a sea, in somewhat of a helpless way. In the background, this illustration depicts a shipwreck, as well as another person located on the other side of the rocks. There are no illustrations throughout the rest of the book, but there does appear to be decorative elements on the title page and on the pages that start a new chapter. The last page of the book is the last page of the story. There is no additional page after the final page of text.
There are no indications of ownership in this book: no names written in the book, notes in the margin, stamps from libraries, bookplates, inserts, or other post-production marks. This could suggest that the book was in the hands of only a few people.
John Corry—author of Arthur and Mary, or the Fortunate Fugitives—was born in north Ireland, and began his writing career in Dublin as a journalist (Mulvihill). His upbringing and education are unknown, and the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography states that he is presumed to have been self-taught (Goodwinn). In the early 1790s, he moved to London where he became a bookseller and publisher at Princess Street, Leicester Square, and also became a member of the Philological Society of Manchester (Mulvihill, Pitcher 83). The journals The Miscellaneous Works of John Corry, and Romantic London: John Corry and the Georgic City both cite the difficulty in articulating John Corry’s cannon (Mulvihill, Pitcher 83). The Miscellaneous Works of John Corry cites that the reason for this lack of a cannon is because “many of [John Corry’s] publications have been difficult to date accurately, because new editions and reissues of titles were frequent, and because works first published as part of a series were often reprinted separately” (Pitcher 83). However, it is certain that Corry’s work included poetry, novels, biographies, histories, satires, and juvenile literature (Mulvihill, Pitcher 83). Corry’s main writings in London are A Satirical View of London, The English Metropolis, Memoirs of Edward Thornton, and A Sketch of Modern Dissipation in London (Mulvihill). Corry’ biographical writings include biographies on George Washington (1800), William Cowper (1803), and Joseph Priestley (1804) (Goodwinn). In addition to Arthur and Mary, John Corry published seventeen other books from 1800 to 1815. Limited information about John Corry’s life after 1825 is known, and the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography states that his “works have now fallen into complete obscurity” (Goodwinn).
In 1803, Crosby and Co, a London-based publishing company, published Arthur and Mary (Mulvihill). Crosby and Co. published Arthur and Mary in English, and English is assumed to be the only language that Arthur and Mary has been published in as there are no indications of this book being translated. The journal article “Making Austen Mad: Benjamin Crosby and the Non-Publication of ‘Susan,’” examines all of Crosby and Co.’s publications, and notes that Crosby and Co. published mainly “musical pieces and songs,” as well as “numerous children’s works” (Mandal 513). These musical pieces and songs mainly consisted of religious discourses and sermons, and the children’s works mainly consisted of conduct-books and educational textbooks (Mandal 513). Thus, Arthur and Mary was a less popular type of publication for Crosby and Co. The journal article argues that Crosby and Co. “was certainty not as low-key as” some critics have professed, as proven by prominent titles that Crosby and Co. published (Mandal 513). This journal article, however, does not categorize Arthur and Mary as one of these prominent titles, and states that “Crosby and Co.’s less eminent credentials are underlined by the fair number of chapbooks it published” (Mandal 513). In its footnote, this journal article cites Arthur and Mary as one of these chapbooks.
One edition of Arthur and Mary is located in the Sadleir-Black Collection in the Special Collections Library at the University of Virginia. Arthur and Mary is cited in Montague Summers’s Gothic Bibliography (236). The WorldCat database indicates that other than the University of Virginia library, there are only four other libraries that have Arthur and Mary in their collections. These libraries include the Northwestern University Library in Illinois, US, the University of Notre Dame Library in Indiana, US, and the University of Oxford Library in the UK. This suggests that there are not many publications of Arthur and Mary in circulation, and possibly not many printings or subsequent editions of this book. There is no indication that this book has any prequels or sequels, or that there are any contemporary digital copies of this book on the Internet.
There is not much information about how Arthur and Mary was received when it was originally published, demonstrated by the absence of reviews about this book, or of any information about how many copies of this book were sold. Arthur and Mary,however, is mentioned in Franz J. Potter’s The History of Gothic Publishing, 1800–1835 in Appendix 2 “Gothic Bluebooks, 1799–1835” (166).
Narrative Point of View
Arthur and Mary is narrated in third person by an omniscient narrator who is never introduced in the text. The narrator’s style consists of detailed descriptions of scenery, events, and characters’ internal emotions. The narration begins following only Arthur, the protagonist of the novel, and his journey away from his home due to political persecution. The narrator later follows Mary, Arthur’s love interest, in addition to Arthur, and tells both storylines of the characters falling in love and each character’s journey traveling from Ireland to London. The narration is chronological, told in the past tense, and does not contain any flashbacks. The narrator writes in concise, yet descriptive, sentences with a hopeful and passionate tone.
Example of Third-Person Narration:
When Mary retired to her room she found this letter, and read it with a tumultuous emotion of mingling passions. Surprise, love, and joy, electrified every nerve. She resolved to answer the letter, which she read repeatedly, and her vanity was not a little gratified with the contents. It was the first love-letter she had ever received; but how to answer it was the point. She placed paper upon the table before her, dipped her pen into the ink, and after casting a scrutinizing glance round her chamber, she began with a palpitating heart. Her hand trembled so much that she could not write one word — she desisted — went to a window and opened it to admit fresh air — her spirits revived, and summoning all her fortitude, she wrote as follows… (14)
The narrator’s concise yet heavily detailed sentences are present throughout this passage. This passage occurs directly after Mary finds Arthur’s letter, in which he professes his love for her, and directly before the narrator tells of what is said in Mary’s letter back to Arthur. The explicit description of Mary’s emotions after Mary reads Arthur’s letter, using words like “tumultuous,” “mingling,” “electrified,” “palpitating,” and “trembled,” adds to the suspense of the novel, as these words signify such great levels of feeling and passion. Consequently, this passage, as representative of the narration throughout the novel, demands attention from the reader. The thorough description of Mary’s actions after reading the letter are also consistent with many gothic tropes, including romance, mystery and fear, and confinement. Verbs like “began” and “revived” in this passage reveal the hopeful and passionate tone found throughout the novel, as this language suggests possibility.
This novel begins by introducing Arthur, a sixteen-year-old boy living just outside of Newry, Ireland. Arthur is the son of a farmer, and is taken out of school in order to be homeschooled in agriculture. The novel quickly transitions to Arthur at the age of twenty-two, and describes Arthur as a “tall and well-made” man, whose “mind was ardent,” “passions [were] strong,” and who “view[ed] the world through the medium of enthusiasm” with an “erroneous opinion” (6). With Ireland’s politics in turmoil, Arthur joins the popular party. His outspoken opinions prompt a neighbor to inform the town of Newry, Ireland, that Arthur is a “disseminator of sedition” (6). As a result, soldiers arrive at Arthur’s home and search for him, but Arthur escapes and sets out for England.
On his journey across Ireland, Arthur travels over mountains, passing small villages, and appreciates the mountains, sea, and nature surrounding him. Hunger prompts him to find a large farmhouse, where Owen Conolly, the owner of the farm, receives him with hospitality. Owen is the proprietor of the valley in which this farm is located, and his ancestors had taken possession of this valley when they sought asylum from English King Oliver Cromwell. Arthur sleeps over at this farmhouse, and when he wakes up, he is introduced to Owen’s eighteen-year-old daughter, Mary.
Mary is reserved and bashful, and her “feminine charms” catch Arthur’s admiration (2). As a result, Arthur decides that he should stay at the farm until the political persecution in Newry is over, and during this time he will tutor Mary each day to “further [the] improvement of her mind” (11). Each day, Mary’s beauty captivates Arthur, and he begins falling in love with her. Arthur writes a note to Mary detailing that he has liked her since the moment he saw her, and now he is in love with her and requests that she accept his heart. In finding this letter, Mary is filled with emotions, and writes back saying that she worries Arthur is not genuine in his expression of love, as he is a “gentleman” and she is a “poor woman” (14). Nevertheless, Arthur professes his love for Mary a second time while on a walk together, and she reciprocates these feelings. They kiss, and vow to temporarily keep their love a secret.
Owen’s oblivion to Arthur and Mary’s love prompts him to give his blessing to Terence Finn, a rich young farmer who became enamored with Mary after seeing her at mass. Terence arrives at the farmhouse, and professes his affection for Mary, but Mary rejects this affection and turns down Terence. Earlier that evening, Owen informed Terence of Arthur’s predicament, and how he is seeking protection from Newry soldiers. When Terence realizes that Mary is in love with Arthur, Terence rides to Newry and informs Arthur’s rivals of Arthur’s whereabouts.
The following day, soldiers arrived at the farmhouse. The soldiers take Arthur into custody, and shove Mary to the ground as she runs to Arthur’s defense and demands that the soldiers take her too. Enraged by the soldier’s aggression towards Mary, Arthur attacks the soldier, and consequently is shot and taken to the county jail in Newry. In distress, Mary travels to the county jail with her loyal friend, Anna. Anna creates an escape plan where she and Arthur switch clothes in order to create a disguise for Arthur. This plan works and Arthur escapes with Mary. Mary returns to her village and Arthur travels to Liverpool.
Jobless with no friends in Liverpool, Arthur travels to Birmingham. One night during the journey, he wakes up with a fever due to his extensive travels. He slowly recovers after a week of illness, and continues his journey to Birmingham with no money and no home. During this journey, he meets Mr. Heron, a native of Ireland who had just sold his small estate in Ireland. Mr. Heron is traveling across Europe by foot, and Arthur joins him on his way to Birmingham. Throughout their journey, Arthur is charmed by Mr. Heron’s charisma and has a strong belief that philanthropy is a “duty we owe to society” (23). When they reach Birmingham, Mr. Heron urges Arthur to accompany him further on his journey across Europe. Mary’s “voice of love secretly remind[s] Arthur of his solemn promise,” and prompts Arthur to refuse Mr. Heron’s request. Arthur and Mr. Heron part ways (23).
Arthur sets out to London and starts an academy for instructing the youth of London. He constantly writes to Mary, and urges her to come to London. Upon getting Owen’s approval, Mary prepares to travel to London with Anna. Mary and Anna begin their voyage at sea, and Mary is devastated to leave her father and possibly never again return to Ireland, but determined to reconnect with Arthur. Mary and Anna come in contact with a major storm towards the end of their voyage, as they are just off of the Welsh Coast. This storm creates massive waves, thrusting the ship towards the rocky Welsh Coast. The ship crashes into the coast and breaks into pieces, forcing the passengers to swim to shore for survival. Mary and Anna grab wood from the destroyed ship, and venture towards the coast. As they arrive on the coast, Anna helps Mary get on to a rock, but as she attempts to also get on the rock, her traction is lost. The strong waves forcefully throw Anna into the rock, and she is killed.
Other survivors of the shipwreck carry Mary to a farmhouse on the coast, where Mary is distraught about Anna’s death. She writes to Arthur, telling him about the shipwreck, and about her arrival in Conway, Wales. Arthur arrives in Conway and he and Mary are reunited. When they reunite, Mary forgets all of her misfortunes.
Arthur and Mary get married in Conway, and set out for Arthur’s home in Birmingham the next day. Arthur is said to love England, and to frequently write both his parents and Owen. The novel ends with Arthur happily in love with Mary, engaged in teaching the youth as his occupation, and enjoying “all those social gratifications which are essential to rational felicity” (36).
A. A. Mandal. “Making Austen Mad: Benjamin Crosby and the Non-Publication of ‘Susan.’” The Review of English Studies, vol. 57, no. 231, 2006, pp. 507–25
Corry, John. Arthur and Mary: Or the Fortunate Fugitives. Printed for B. Crosby and Co. [etc.], 1803.
Published in the 1820s by an unknown author, this chapbook set in England features a disgraced outlaw obsessed with his rival’s daughter and a religious Prior determined to right the characters on the path of piety.
Feudal Days, a simple and small book, measures
16.5cm long by 10.5cm wide and contains twenty-eight pages. The book currently
has no cover; the reader first encounters a blank yellowed page. All pages in
the chapbook are brittle and thin; some are slightly ripped at the edges, and
the pages’ top ends are all discolored brown. A small amount of black thread
loosely links these pages together, although one can observe holes on the left
size of pages where thread was likely once used to tightly bind the book.
Opening the book, the reader will observe a pull-out
frontispiece illustration on the left side of the first page and the title page
on the right side. The title page contains the full title of the chapbook: Feudal Days; or, the Noble Outlaw. AnHistorical Romance of the Fourteenth
Century. The title appears in different variations throughout other places
in the text. At the top of the first page of text, it appears as Feudal Days; or, the Noble Outlaw
without the second line, and at the top of all pages of text, it reads The Noble Outlaw; (on the left page) and
Or, Feudal Days (on the right side),
thus reversing the order seen on the title page. An author’s name does not
appear throughout the chapbook; however, the name J. Bailey appears on the
title page, the last page of text, and on the final two pages. These mentions
reveal that J. Bailey of 116 Chancery Lane “printed and sold” the book and also
published numerous other chapbooks listed on the last two pages of this
chapbook. The title page finally lists the price of the chapbook—6 pence.
Venturing past the front pages of the book, the reader will
notice that the body text is closely-set and single-spaced and that many pages
do not have paragraph breaks. On most pages, the margins are roughly 1cm all
around; between pages 22 and 24, the bottom margin increases slightly to 2cm.
Pagination on the top of pages begins on the second page of body text at page 4
and continues to the last page of body text (26). In addition to pagination,
publishers have included a few extra printed markings on the bottom of pages:
“A2” is printed on what would be denoted page 3; “A3” is on page 5; “A4” on
page 7; “A5” on page 9; and “B” is printed on page 25. These markings, called
signature marks, were printed in order to aid the accuracy in the binding of
Although almost all of the book contains text without any
illustration, the frontispiece on the opposite page from the title page
provides the singular illustration, depicting a woman stabbing a man inside a
cave that is decorated with a chandelier. This frontispiece is unique in the
chapbook, both because it is the only use of color and because is the only
exception to the dimensions of the chapbook: it folds outward to comprise an
overall width of 21cm and height of 16.5cm. This page bears the captions of
“FRONTISPIECE” above and a reference to the body text below: “Nay then Ermina, cried Rudolph, ‘I will not
brook delay’—when, by one bold effort she released her hand, and seizing my
shining sword”. The content of this caption, while not a direct quotation,
is a condensed version of dialogue recounted on page 14 of the text;
additionally, this caption is printed slightly off-the-page; for this reason,
exact punctuation is uncertain.
While most attributes described in this chapbook are
particular to the entire batch that this book was printed in, it is finally
worthwhile to point out a few characteristics that are likely unique to this
particular copy in the Sadlier-Black collection. Overall, this book is devoid
of most markings. The three particular marks include potential pen markings in
a straight line at the top of the final page, a circular mark which may be glue
or wax, and a bit of blue color that has spotted the front and back pieces of
the book, which may be the remnants of a cover or binding.
to the copy of Feudal Days held by
the University of Virginia, WorldCat indicates that multiple other copies exist
in print form in fifteen other libraries. These copies are not concentrated in
one geographic region: a copy of Feudal
Days can be found at four Canadian libraries, one United Kingdom library,
two Spanish libraries, and nine United States libraries (including the
University of Virginia). In addition to the print forms of Feudal Days, there is also another digitized copy of the book held
by New York Public Library (NYPL), which is accessible through HathiTrust and
factors support an inference that there were multiple printings of Feudal Days when it was originally published: first, the digitized NYPL copy available on HathiTrust includes
an additional cover page that the University of Virginia copy does not have.
This page includes a notation that the book was “Printed and Published by S.
Carvalho, 18, West Place, Nelson Street, City of London”. A few pages later,
the cover page indicating that the book was printed by J. Bailey is still
included, and the rest of the book looks exactly identical to the version held
by the University of Virginia. S. Carvalho may have reprinted the entire book
or simply added an additional cover onto the original printing by J. Bailey.
Second, the date that Google Books lists for the publication of the NYPL
version of Feudal Days is 1829, but
the University of Virginia library catalog indicates a date range of 1820 to 1829.
While this may not alone be enough to pin down potentially different printings,
the WorldCat catalog record for Feudal Days notes that, according to I.
Maxted’s London Book Trades, J. Bailey operated at the printed
address (116 Chancery Lane) only between 1808 and 1827, not 1829 (Maxted, cited
in WorldCat Catalog Record). Regardless, the wide circulation of Feudal Days in international libraries
indicates that even if the book only went through one printing, it may have
been printed in large volumes.
WorldCat lists three contributors to Feudal Days: J. Bailey, George Cruikshank, and Friedrich Schiller. The British Museum states that J. Bailey was a British “publisher active between 1799 and 1825,” and that he traded with William Bailey, who may have been a family member, during the latter period of his flourishing years, 1823–1824 (“J Bailey”). In addition to the list of chapbooks printed by J. Bailey in the back of Feudal Days, the British Museum also lists a few prints and pamphlets printed by him, including “The life and military career of Napoleon Bonaparte,” which was illustrated by George Cruikshank, evidence that J. Bailey collaborated with Cruikshank on multiple occasions (“Pamphlet”). George Cruikshank is thought to be the illustrator or the author of Feudal Days according to different sources. Cruikshank (1792–1878) was a fairly prominent British graphic artist; he started his career as a caricaturist and then moved to book illustration. Some of his most notable works include working with Charles Dickens on illustrations for Oliver Twist from 1837–1843 and the famous temperance comic The Bottle in 1847 (Patten). Most sources, including HathiTrust and University of Virginia library catalog, credit Cruikshank with illustrations; however, Diane Hoeveler credits Cruikshank himself with adapting Friedrich Schiller’s play Die Räuber into Feudal Days (Hoeveler 197). Finally, Friedrich Schiller (1759–1805) was a famous German playwright, poet, and philosopher (Witte). Schiller wrote his own unfinished gothic novel, The Ghost-Seer, but the most concrete link between Schiller and Feudal Days is the assertion that Feudal Days is based off an English translation of Schiller’s German drama Die Räuber (Andriopoloulos 1–2, Hoeveler 197).
Die Räuber is a drama about two brothers, one of
whom is cast out by the father under the influence of the evil brother and who
joins a band of outlaws. Although threads of outlawdom and banditti are common
to Feudal Days, it seems that the
plot of Feudal Days is not an exact
adaptation of Die Räuber, primarily
because it is missing the element of familial rivalry (“The Robbers”). However,
an opera called The Noble Outlaw may
also be a source of influence for Feudal
Days. The Noble Outlaw, produced
in 1815 in England, is “founded upon” Beaumont and Fletcher’s opera The Pilgrim (“Noble Outlaw” Theatrical 310). The Noble Outlaw is about an outlawed robber who returns to his
beloved’s residence, disguised as a pilgrim, in order to leave with her (“Noble
Outlaw” Monthly 302). As a resolution
of the plot, the Outlaw of the opera saves his rival’s life, and “all ends
happily” (“Noble Outlaw” Theatrical
311). Similar to Die Räuber, the
common thread of outlawdom is present; in addition, plot points such as
breaking into a woman’s home in a disguise and saving a rival’s life as a plot
resolution are common to both the opera and Feudal
Days. No source exists indicating that The
Noble Outlaw specifically influenced Feudal
Days, but given the time proximity and the name and plot similarities, this
may be the case. As evidenced by a search on HathiTrust, there are many other
chapbooks with “Feudal Days” or “The Noble Outlaw” constituting part of the
title. Online copies of these other chapbooks are limited, so the degree to
which these related works are similar is unknown. Therefore, Feudal Days could have other influences
and could have influenced other works; at the same time, these numerous titles
may indicate that “Feudal Days” and “Noble Outlaw” were simply popular book
Notably inaccessible is information about Feudal Days’s marketing and reception during the time period, reprintings, prequels, and sequels, and any scholarly analysis of the book after its publication. One hypothesis for the absence of such information is that Feudal Days is one in a list of many gothic chapbooks published by J. Bailey during this time period, as evidenced by the final two pages of the chapbook listing other titles (Feudal Days 26–7). Therefore, Feudal Days might not have stood out amongst its counterparts enough to warrant independent reviews or scholarship. In sum, however, the information that can be gleaned about Feudal Days does lead to several inferences regarding its relative importance. First, given the numerous copies available of the book currently, it may have been fairly popular. Second, its plot may have been influenced by multiple, mixed-media sources, including well-known theatrical works like Die Räuber or The Pilgrim. Finally, one of Feudal Days’s potential contributors, George Cruikshank, would later achieve fairly notable status later in his career.
Narrative Point of View
The present-tense section of Feudal Days is narrated by a third-person anonymous narrator who
never appears in the text. This narrator relies on recounting dialogue rather
than independently describing or analyzing plot. While a minority of the story
is recounted by this narrator in the present tense, the text also contains
flashbacks and interpolated tales, narrated by the character who experienced
the flashback. The majority of the text is spent on Rodolph’s interpolated
tale, in which he recounts his descent into lawlessness. This tale is narrated
in the first person by Rodolph, and every paragraph opens and closes with
quotation marks, to indicate that Rodolph is telling his story during
continuous conversation with Father Francis. Both the anonymous narrator and
Rodolph often employ long sentences, containing multiple clauses joined by
semicolons and oftentimes-unclear referential pronouns. Unlike the anonymous
narrator, however, Rodolph utilizes elements of description and recounts his
own feelings and state of mind, rather than simply narrating the dialogue of
Passage from Rodolph’s Interpolated Tale:
“O, Ernulf! my friend, wealth, honour, fame, are now lost to me; malignant stars have crossed my fondest hopes; Rodolph no longer bears the name of brave, but skulks an outlaw, the meanest slave of passion, who, like the prowling monster of the forest, avoids pursuit, and sheds unguarded blood.” (7)
Sample Passage of
Impersonal and Anonymous Third-Person Narrator:
“Hold! (cried the Prior) God commands that ye shall not proceed, re-sheath your swords, and release your captive.” Rodolph started, and gazed with amazement on the Prior. “What man art thou, (said he) that dare oppose my will; disclose to me thy name and purpose?” – “To preach repentance, (replied the prior) and to prevent evil.” Much more the Prior said, for he found that he had gained attention.
Rodolph raised his head, and gazing on the sky, an unwonted smile played o’er his features. “Thou holy man, (he kindly said) thy exhortations wind like infant tendrils round a sinner’s heart, and have taught my soul to know what constitutes true happiness on earth; thy words have chased error from my mind.” (18)
The anonymous narrator guides the
reader along through the thoughts and lives of different characters without
offering any independent commentary. The only character that the narrator
independently comments on is the Prior, whom the narrator repeatedly describes
as virtuous. This technique of guiding the narrative with a heavy focus on
transcribing dialogue makes the characters of Feudal Days appear more developed than there may otherwise be space
for in a twenty-eight-page chapbook. Additionally, the oftentimes-unclear
sentences may require a second or third reading of a passage. These tactics
combine to make the story appear longer and more action-heavy than what may be
expected for a book of its size.
Rodolph’s narration, on the other
hand, provides personal and descriptive insights, showcasing broader character
development and highlighting Rodolph as the protagonist of the story. Rodolph is
frequently over-dramatic, utilizing exaggerated similes such as, in the passage
above, “like the prowling monster of the forest” to evoke his strong feelings
and emphasize the weightiness of his tumult. The Prior’s eventual ability to
calm even Rodolph’s tormented mind, as shown in the sample passage, lends extra
weight to the anonymous narrator’s assertion that the Prior is inarguably
virtuous. Although Rodolph’s style of narration may appear disjointed from the
impersonal and brief narration of the rest of the chapbook, the fact that every
paragraph of his tale is offset by quotation marks renders his interpolated
tale as a long-form version of the dialogue relayed by the anonymous narrator.
Therefore, Rodolph’s narrative style showcases an extended version of the
character development tactic utilized by the anonymous narrator and is in fact
consistent with the rest of the chapbook.
Feudal Days opens
with a description of the Priory of Birkenhead, which sits close to the Mersey
inlet, a place where ships frequently wreck. Beyond the inlet, there lies a
“bleak and dreary” waste of vegetation; the pious father of the priory (the
Prior) cautions travelers to avoid the “track on the right” when navigating
through the waste and take the “track on the left” (3).
On a dark night, the Prior summons one of his men, Father
Francis, to accompany him down to the water so that they can encounter any struggling
travelers and give them aid. As they walk down to the water, the Prior recalls
when Francis was rescued in a similar condition—on a night like this, the Prior
slipped and fell walking back up to the priory, and locked eyes with Francis,
also suffering on the ground and exhausted due to the weather. The Prior called
the other brothers of the priory, and the two men were brought up to the priory
and nursed back to health.
Back in the present, the men complete their journey down to
the water; as the night gets even darker, they decide to head back to the
priory. Before they can leave, they catch a glimpse of a man “in warlike form”
wielding a sword, but the figure disappears (5). When they return to the priory
and go to sleep, the Prior is haunted by dreams related to that figure.
The next morning, Father Francis steals away from morning
prayers to sit in solitude in a sea cave on Mersey’s shore. Father Francis
recalls his life before becoming a priest, when he was called Ernulf. Father
Francis, in mental turmoil, recounts his parting with his lover, Angela. Father
Francis killed Angela’s husband, Arden; Angela also died that night in shock,
despite her love for Francis. Francis pleads with God to “forgive their
murders,” when, suddenly, he sees the warlike figure from last night (6). The
figure turns out to be Francis’s old friend, Rodolph. Rodolph first provides
clarity to Francis’s backstory, then launches into his own story, declaring
himself an “outlaw” and the “meanest slave of passion” (7).
Rodolph was fighting on behalf of the current king, King Henry,
against Henry’s rival Edward and commanding other lords to join the fight. Lord
Silbert had not yet joined the fight for Henry, so Rodolph resolved to convince
him. Rodolph traveled to Silbert’s estate, where he was received by the Lady of
Lord Silbert and their daughter, Ermina. At dinner, Rodolph was not able to
convince Silbert to join the fight for Henry; in fact, Silbert believed Henry’s
rival Edward had a legitimate claim to the throne. The two men began trading
threats of violence against each other and Rodolph left the estate quickly.
However, once Rodolph left the estate, he started thinking
about Silbert’s daughter Ermina and her charms, quickly forgetting “his king,
friends, and country” (9). Unable to gain access to the estate in a
conventional fashion, he sought advice from his friend Lord Redwald, and
decided to enter the mansion in the disguise of a peasant. When he revealed
himself to Ermina inside the mansion, she told him that he had to leave;
Rodolph then kidnapped Ermina with the help of Redwald’s men and brought her to
Redwald’s mansion. Silbert, about to greet Edward’s troops, realized that
Ermina had been taken. He later received word that a peasant had taken Ermina
and offered a reward for intelligence about her whereabouts. Rodolph’s identity
and location were betrayed for the reward, and Silbert arrived with his men at
Redwald’s estate to fight for Ermina’s freedom. Redwald received a fatal wound
during the fight with Silbert’s army, but before he died, he conveyed knowledge
of a secret passageway within his mansion that could be used as an escape, and
Rodolph, his men, and Ermina left via that route.
Once they left the castle and found themselves in nature,
Rodolph turned his attention back to Ermina, whose affections towards him had
not warmed. She told Rodolph that she would not marry him until her father
consented, but he resolved to marry her quickly and have her “share [his] couch
tonight” despite her wishes (13). He had Ermina brought “shrieking” to his
cavern, and told Ermina to swear to be his (13). Before Rodolph could rape
Ermina, Ermina seized Rodolph’s own sword and plunged it into his bosom. She
thanked God for preserving her honor, then fled from the area.
The next day, Rodolph came to and heard that Ermina had
vanished without a trace. Walking around the area with one of his men, Edric,
he saw a stranger, who asked him where to find the “lawless” Rodolph (15).
Rodolph dueled with this man, killed him, and read his dispatches. According to
these papers, a reward of 500 marks was placed on Rodolph’s head, his lands had
been bestowed to Silbert, and his mansion had been used by the rival Edward’s
troops. With that development, Rodolph ends his backstory, lamenting his new
position as an outlaw. Francis states that the turn of events is beneficial,
for Rodolph would have violated Ermina’s honor for a few seconds of pleasure,
and invites Rodolph to join the priory for the day and give his penitence.
Meanwhile, another stranger—Lord Silbert—knocks on the door
of the priory and asks to stay a night before he continues on his journey. The
next morning, Silbert is guided along his journey by one of the priory’s
domestics, Gaspar. The Prior watches them leave and realizes that Gaspar is
leading Silbert along the wrong path to the right, contrary to the Prior’s
constant warnings. On this wrong path, an armed band attacks Silbert, and he is
about to die when Rodolph shows up and saves Silbert’s life. Rodolph now has
Silbert at his mercy, and demands that Silbert give away Ermina to him. Silbert
refuses, and then the Prior shows up to intercede. He urges Rodolph to not keep
Silbert captive, and Rodolph quickly acquiesces to his exhortations. Rodolph
asks Silbert for forgiveness and pledges to find Ermina for him, and Silbert
quickly forgives Rodolph and thanks him for saving his life. As they are about
to return to the convent, they come across the wounded Gaspar, who betrayed
Silbert. The Prior tells Gaspar that he must repent, and Gaspar reveals that
beneath this hill lies a secret cavern where a band of murderers, his
Rodolph and Silbert resolve to raid this secret cavern. Once
they enter the cavern, they find it fully decorated and quickly kill all of the
banditti. They also free a woman who had been kneeling before the chief of the
band pleading for mercy. This woman is revealed as Ermina, who was taken by
this band when she fled from Rodolph. The chief of the banditti took a liking
to her, and threatened to kill her unless she consented to marry him.
After the battle is over, the Prior enters the cavern with a
messenger of Silbert, who tells Rodolph that if he swears allegiance to Edward
and lays down his arms, he will not only be pardoned, but given a royal favor.
Rodolph agrees because King Henry is dead and King Edward has the mandate of
the people, and Silbert and Rodolph pledge allegiance to each other.
As the party walks back to the priory, they spot a priest,
falling into the water. The priest dies soon after and is revealed as Father
Francis. Despite this development, the characters of the book wrap up their
story happily—Silbert gives Ermina as a gift to Rodolph and consents to their
marriage, Silbert and Rodolph give Lord Redwald a proper burial, and King
Edward declares that the men can destroy the robber’s cave and give the
proceeds to be split amongst his followers. When the Prior dies a few years
later, they all mourn “the good man’s death” together (26).
Stefan. “Occult Conspiracies: Spirits and Secrets in Schiller’s Ghost Seer.” New German Critique, vol.
35, no. 1, 2008, pp. 65–81.
Feudal Days; or, the
Noble Outlaw: An Historical Romance of the Fourteenth Century. London, J.
Diane L. “Prose Fiction: Zastrossi, St. Irvyne, The Assassins, The Coliseum.” The Oxford Handbook of Percy Bysshe Shelley,
edited by Michael O’Neill et al. Oxford University Press, 2013, pp. 193–208.
Maxted, Ian. The London Book Trades 1775–1800: A
Preliminary Checklist of Members. Dawson, 1977.
“The Noble Outlaw.” The Monthly Theatrical Reporter, vol. 1, no. 8, 1815, pp. 301–303. ProQuest.
The Noble Outlaw.” Theatrical Inquisitor, and Monthly Mirror, Feb.1813–June 1819, vol. 6, 1815, pp. 310–312. ProQuest.
In this 1806 Jean-Baptiste-François-Xavier Cousin de Grainville novel, embark on a journey with the last inhabitants of the world as they navigate around the universe’s impending destruction.
The Last Man, or Omegarus and Syderia, A
Romance in Futurity was originally a French text by
Jean-Baptiste-François-Xavier Cousin de Grainville. The author’s name appears
nowhere on the front cover or inside of the book. Instead, “By Mrs. Shelly
author of Frankenstein [illegible word]” is penciled in underneath the title on
the full title page of both volumes. Though the two texts share the same short
title, The Last Man, or Omegarus and Syderia, A Romance in Futurity was
written by Cousin de Grainville not Mary Shelley.
This edition, which presents the English
translation of the French original, was published in London at Grace
Church-Street in 1806 by R. Dutton, as denoted on the full title page of both
volumes. An epigraph appears underneath the title on the full title page in
both volumes and says, “Through what new scenes and changes must we pass?—The
wide, th’unbounded, prospect lies before me.—” which is from Addison’s 1713 “Cato.”
The French title is not given in this edition, but the French edition is called
Le Dernier Homme, Ouvrage Posthume. The full English title, The Last
Man, or Omegarus and Syderia, A Romance in Futurity, is only present on the
full title page of each volume and the shortened titles—The Last Man. A
Romance in Futurity. and The Last Man.—are present on the half title
page of each volume. The latter title—The Last Man.—also appears in the
top margin of the left and right pages starting from the beginning of chapter
one until the end of the last chapter.
Any designs that may have graced the
front or back covers of the book are completely gone, due to over 200 years
passing since it was originally printed. There are remnants of a wax-dripped
insignia on the spine of volume one and black printed letters on the front
cover of volume two; otherwise, the covers are a brownish-yellowish color and
are fraying at the corners. There is also worn-off blue tape on the spine that
wraps towards the center of the front and back covers in an attempt to secure
the fragile binding. The book is 11.5 cm by 19 cm and is of a medium thickness.
Volume one contains 220 pages and volume two contains 204 pages, making the
entire book a total of 424 pages.
The binding from volume two is in poorer condition than volume one, as all the pages are completely detached from the binding. In volume one, the pages are still slightly secured to the binding, albeit a third of the pages are detached from it. However, all of the pages of each volume remain intact and secured to each other with an adhesive. The paper is yellowed, and there are brown splotches of varying sizes on the majority of pages. The origin of these splotches is unknown. When the book is closed, the pages are noticeably crinkled.
The page immediately following the full title page in volume two has an advertisement for another text published by R. Dutton, The Saracen, or Matilda and Melek Adhel. A Crusade Romance with no listed author. The advertisement relates in italics, “Just published, in 4 vols. 12 mo. price 18s. in boards,” and, “This work has been highly spoken of in the L’Ambigu of M. Peltier.” On page 11 of volume two, there is a handwritten correction for a typo: someone has crossed out “Ormus” and penciled in “Eupholus.” There are no illustrations, decorative elements, table of contents, epilogue, or author’s note present within the text.
We know that this edition of The Last
Man has had many institutional homes, as a stamp of T. Norris’s Circulating
Library is glued onto the inside of the opening cover of each volume. There are
also illegible names and numbers scrawled in pencil and ink on the opening
cover and first blank page of each volume, supporting the idea that this edition
of The Last Man has passed through many hands. In both volumes, the only
writing that can be clearly deciphered is “Doris Pousonly 1927.” This constant
transfer between different people also contributed to the novel’s fragile state
and worn-out appearance.
The font used in both volumes is
identical, and it is of a larger size, making it easier to read. Copious
amounts of spaces separate paragraphs, which are generally on the shorter side
and range from one to three sentences. The spacing of sentences within
paragraphs and words are also spread apart. The first word of every chapter is
printed in a larger font size than the following words, with the first letter
in a more decorative font. The chapter headers are preceded and succeeded by
black lines, which creates ample spacing between them and the paragraphs. They
are also in a different font and size than the primary font and font size, and
the numbers are roman numerals. Page numbers appear at the top of the pages –
the leftmost side of the left page and the rightmost side of the right page.
Different printer notes are scattered
throughout the chapters in order to keep track of the page order. Below the
last sentence of each paragraph, there are catchwords placed on the bottom and
to the rightmost side of the page. These words were customary printing
techniques during the nineteenth-century to pair up pages with the same word
that appeared at the top of the next page. Also, capital letters immediately
followed by a number appear inconsistently on the middle of the bottom portions
of pages. These notes provided a map for printers on how to fold the book and
align the pages together.
The Last Man. A Romance in Futurity.
was originally written in French by Jean-Baptiste-François-Xavier Cousin de
Grainville and titled Le dernier homme. Cousin de Grainville was a
former priest at the Church of Saint-Leu in Amiens. This is also the same place
where he delivered a funeral oration defending the King of France at the time,
Louis XVI, which resulted in his imprisonment and potential death sentence. In
order to avoid the latter, he was urged into marriage, and the union simply
became a way to keep up appearances. After the marriage, he began writing Le
dernier homme, which ultimately became his life’s work. He also kept a
school in Amiens, but was shunned as an apostate priest. Due to the treatment
he endured, he committed suicide at Amiens in 1805, making Le dernier homme
a posthumous publication (Paley 67–8).
The Last Man. A Romance in Futurity. was published and received in several different manners. The original French publication received little to no attention; Morton D. Paley notes that this makes the emergence of the English version in 1806, which lists no author, strange (68). The minimum attention the novel received produced a few reviews, which were generally bad. In one instance, the reviewer deems the novel as “most extravagantly wild and eccentric” and recommends it to readers who are “much addicted to the reading of romances” but also warns, “if the same readers should be hostile to licentiousness and profaneness, and should think that translations (as this seems to be) one of the vilest books imported from the Continent, ought to be consigned to some other conspicuous place—we recommend the fire” (“Art. 21” 446). The 1811 publication of the second edition of Le dernier homme in French was influenced by Sir Herbert Croft, who was a contemporary admirer of the novel, and prefaced by Charles Nodier, who was Croft’s literary assistant; the second edition received a little more attention than the first, but still remained widely unknown (Paley 68).
Cousin de Grainville’s work is believed
to have inspired the development of other pieces of literature in the following
years of its publication. Benjamin Morgan suggests that Cousin de Grainville’s
novel stimulated the genre of “Romantic millenarianism,” which included the
works of Lord Byron’s Darkness (1816), Thomas Campbell’s The Last Man
(1823), and Mary Shelley’s The Last Man (1826) (618). All of these texts
are placed in an impending apocalyptic or post-apocalyptic world and involve a
fixation on the last man on earth. In 1831, the novel was adapted into a poem
by A. Creuzé de Lesser, which was titled “Le dernier homme, poème imité de
Grainville,” and published in Paris (Paley 68).
Today, The Last Man. A Romance in Futurity. has been attended to by many
scholars and approached as a work of science fiction, potentially one of the
earliest such works. Wesleyan University Press published an edition, translated
by I.F. Clarke and M. Clarke in 2003 as part of their Early Classics of Science
Fiction series. In one review of this newer edition, John Huntington emphasizes
common literary elements in the novel, such as “realism and “the kind of
empirical detail which will later characterize the SF [science fiction] novel”
(374). There have also been interpretations that contextualize the earth’s
deterioration in the novel. In one analysis, Morgan situates Cousin de
Grainville’s novel amidst other works that examine “ecological catastrophe”
Point of View
The Last Man. A Romance in Futurity. is a frame narrative in which
the main story is narrated in the third-person omniscient by an anonymous
narrator and the secondary tale is narrated in the first person by Omegarus.
The frame narrative is heavy on dialogue, while typically using descriptive paragraphs
to reveal that a strange or magnificent event has taken place. The secondary
narrative is related from the perspective of Omegarus, in which he tells Adam
about his history. Since the secondary narrative is in the first person while
also incorporating a lot of dialogue, Omegarus uses descriptive paragraphs to
focus on his thoughts and reactions to different situations. Omegarus also
relates stories that other characters told him at that particular instance in
his history, which can generate confusion as to the chronology of events. The
secondary narrative functions as the backstory to the main narrative, which is
narrated in the present. At times, the third-person narration of the framing
narrative interrupts the secondary narrative to remind readers that it is the
main story, as one can easily become lost in the secondary narrative and forget
about the main narrative. It also serves as a way to interact with readers, as
we are like Adam listening for the first time to Omegarus’s story.
Sample Passage of Main Frame Narrative:
Scarcely had Omegarus ended the description of the two pictures, when Adam, much affected, interrupted him saying, “Omegarus, O my son! (allow me to use this appellation from my tenderness) hold an instant, and let me recover breath! Thou hast opened again in my heart a source of sentiment which I thought dried up. Ah! If thou didst but know me! – I, as well as Adam, had a wife and children, and but now fancied that I saw them, heard them, and tasted with them all the joys of a husband and father!” (vol. 2, 48–49)
main narrative, Adam stands in the same place as the readers of the novel, as
he is invested and heavily affected by listening to Omegarus’s story for the
first time. This invites readers to be sympathetic towards Omegarus and his
future. Readers also know more than Omegarus, because we know Adam’s true
identity while Omegarus is unaware of who Adam is at this point in the story.
Adam points this out in this passage as he laments, “If thou didst but know
me!” then Omegarus would understand why he is heavily affected by the story. In
expressing his emotions, Adam interrupts Omegarus’s story, bringing readers
back from the secondary narrative to the main narrative. This interjection also
acts as a break from Omegarus’s story, which contains a lot of information to
digest in one taking.
Sample Passage of Secondary Narrative:
I came. Her room decked out, the soft fragrance I inhaled, Syderia’s dress, – all were preparations that surprised me. I drew near her ; the picture of Eve with her infant son attracted and delighted my eye, and induced a wish to see the other which was veiled. No emotion ever equalled mine at the sight of the Mother of Mankind in the arms of her husband. (vol. 2, 51)
From the first sentence here, the “I” used by Omegarus denotes
this passage as originating from the secondary narrative versus the main
narrative, which makes no use of first-person pronouns outside of dialogue.
Because of this, readers have a window into Omegarus’ thoughts, specifically
about Syderia in comparison to the painting of Eve in this sample passage. This
ability invites readers to be sympathetic towards Omegarus and gain an
understanding of where he is coming from, as we are learning his history from
his own perspective, even though Omegarus’s narrative is also faulty and
biased, since it is difficult to remember every instance that has occurred in
The novel begins with an unknown speaker
being willed to enter a cave by a spirit possessing knowledge of all future
events. The spirit intends to reveal the events that will result in the end of
the universe through a magic mirror. The speaker first sees an image of a
melancholy man and woman, Omegarus and Syderia, who are the last inhabitants of
the universe. The spirit shows the speaker, who is interested by the cause of
their melancholy, a different image depicting Adam, the first father of
mankind, guarding the gates of hell as punishment for causing the human race to
have original sin. Ithuriel, an angel, comes to Adam and tells him that God has
a special mission for him, which involves sending him back to earth. In return
for his participation and success in the mission, Adam will be granted
deliverance from his punishment. Ithuriel promptly returns Adam to earth, where
God communicates that he must demand from Omegarus painful sacrifices using
only eloquence and persuasion.
Omegarus and Syderia walk outside of
their palace after being plagued by images of bleeding specters and the sound
of groans, when they see an old man, who they view as a favorable omen sent
from heaven. The old man is actually Adam, who must conceal his true identity from
Omegarus and Syderia. Adam inquires the source of their sorrows, to which
Omegarus relates the images and sounds that have plagued him and Syderia. Adam
confirms that Omegarus has committed a fault that has agitated heaven, and he
was sent to teach him how to avoid it. He asks Omegarus to tell him the history
of his life and Omegarus begins to tell his story.
Omegarus’s birth was a phenomenon, due to
procreation being fruitless twenty years prior, and was nicknamed “Manchild.”
No other children, though, were born afterwards, and shortly after the death of
Omegarus’s parents, he decided to travel to Europe. Before leaving, he visited
his parents’ tomb where the Genius of earth, who is charged with the planet’s
preservation and care, appeared to him and warned him of earth’s impending
destruction. The Genius explained that he would live as long as the earth lived
and that only Omegarus, united by marriage with a specific woman, would result
in the production of children and delay the earth’s, mankind’s, and his own
destruction. Omegarus offered to promote the Genius’ intentions, and the Genius
told him to seek out a man named Idamas, because he knew what plans heaven had
Upon entering the city that Idamas
inhabited, Omegarus encountered Policletes and Cephisa, who had been imparted
the knowledge of Omegarus’s fate. Policletes told Omegarus how he went to a
temple one day after feeling anxious about the earth’s decay and had a vision
of Omegarus as a child, who told him his anxieties would end when he laid eyes
on Omegarus’s future wife. Policletes charged this vision as the reason for
seeking out Omegarus’s wife. After this encounter, Omegarus continued searching
for Idamas, until he is stopped by a man named Palemos, who claimed that heaven
had bestowed the knowledge of the future to him and knew Idamas. He explained
how he was a guest at Idamas’s home the previous night, where he witnessed God
tell Idamas that the earth would be revived through Omegarus, who he is meant
to accompany in his journey. Policletes then took Omegarus to Idamas, and they
subsequently depart across the seas.
On their journey, Idamas related to
Omegarus the story of Ormus, who promised to bring his people into a new world
by taking control of the ocean. Initially, his people supported him, but
eventually, Ormus abandoned his plans due to his people claiming that his
actions were selfish and simply a way to have his name immortalized.
Afterwards, Ormus sought refuge in the City of the Sun in Brazil, where he was
greatly revered. Omegarus’s future wife was also in Brazil. Idamas’s narrative
was interrupted when they discovered that they had reached Brazil’s shores.
Omegarus, Idamas, and all of their companions were initially met by Eupolis and
the Americans who intended to kill all of them, since this was the law enforced
in Brazil to preserve the minimal food supply. Only a sign from heaven, which
was the gift of numerous animals from a neighboring village, caused Eupolis and
the Americans to change their intentions and lead them to Aglauros, who ruled
in the Brazils. Idamas told Aglauros of the display by heaven and convinced him
of Omegarus’s role as the reviver of the human race. He then told Aglauros that
he would name Omegarus’s wife, and Aglauros allowed Idamas to follow-through
with his plans, but imprisoned Omegarus in a tower so that he does not
accidentally choose the wrong woman.
After several weeks, Idamas told Aglauros
to order all the young American virgins to the plains of Azas where he would
name Omegarus’s wife. Meanwhile, Omegarus was visited in the tower by a
goddess, who painted an image of a perfect and beautiful woman. The following
night and onwards, the same woman visited him in the tower. Syderia also
experienced the same phenomena as Omegarus, but instead, she was visited
everyday by a young man. They fell in love with each other, which is the reason
why both Omegarus and Syderia wished to not partake in the plains of Azas.
Despite their reluctance, Omegarus and Syderia were required to go to Azas and
discovered that they were the ones they saw every day and night.
The preparations for their marriage were
immediately started, but Ormus, who was charged with uniting Omegarus and
Syderia, prophesized that their marriage would actually result in the
destruction of earth and mankind. He bestowed this knowledge onto Eupolis and a
few of the Americans. On the day of Omegarus and Syderia’s wedding, Eupolis
revealed this knowledge to everyone after Ormus and Idamas are killed by
presumably heaven’s wrath. He demanded that Omegarus return to Europe and
Syderia remain in Brazil.
That night, Forestan, Syderia’s father,
visited Omegarus and pleaded that he took Syderia with him to Europe, for
Eupolis and the Americans intended to kill both her and Omegarus to eliminate
the threat of the prophecy all together. Omegarus agreed, and him and Syderia
escaped to Europe the same night. In the following days, Omegarus was consumed
with his love for Syderia, which she refused to return in respect of her
father’s wishes to not marry Omegarus. One day, Omegarus wished to escape
Syderia’s presence and ended up in a delightful valley wherein he perceived
Syderia willingly accepting his love. Realizing it was an illusion, Omegarus
immediately rushed back to Syderia, but she still implored that they remained
separated. This caused further distress in Omegarus, who now shunned Syderia.
One day, Syderia is visited by her
father’s spirit, who revealed that he had died shortly after her departure. He
told her that heaven actually approved of her marriage to Omegarus and that his
love for her would be rekindled by two images located over the altar in the
temple. Syderia was moved by the second image, which depicted Eve and her
infant son, and presented herself under the two images so that Omegarus may
find her. Once he found her, Omegarus was moved by the first image of Eve and
Adam getting married. Shortly after, Omegarus and Syderia got married. With the
end of his narrative, Omegarus demands Adam to ask heaven whether or not their
union is favorable.
After consulting with heaven, Adam drags
Omegarus from the palace and reveals that Syderia is pregnant and their child
will be the father of an ill-fated generation of humans. Omegarus is unwilling
to believe Adam, as he is still unaware of his true identity. Adam cites all of
the bad events that have taken place since Omegarus and Syderia have been in
each other’s company, and Omegarus admits that he was in the wrong, but refuses
to allow Syderia’s death and the death of their child. This refusal causes Adam
to reveal his true identity to Omegarus as the “Father of Mankind,” and he
tells Omegarus the mission that God has entrusted to him. Although at first
unwilling to let Syderia die, Omegarus changes his mind when God shows him a
vision of the future where his future generations are at war with each other.
Omegarus signs a tree and carves that he is innocent in hopes that Syderia
reads it and officially parts ways with her. She ultimately perishes as a
result of his absence. The Almighty opens the graves of the dead and shields
Omegarus from the havoc the dead causes. The novel concludes with Omegarus
witnessing the end of the universe.
Cousin de Grainville,
Jean-Baptiste-François-Xavier. The Last Man, or Omegarus and Syderia, A
Romance in Futurity. London, R. Dutton, 1806.
Angelina is one of Thomas Peckett Prest’s serialized works from 1841 that centers around murder, mystery, and forbidden love.
Angelina: Or, the Mystery of St. Mark’s Abbey. A Tale of Other Days by Thomas Peckett Prest was published in 1841 in serialized parts. Releasing the novel in parts lowered the cost of producing the book as a whole. Each section would have been sold using an image on the first page of the part as an incentive to purchase it. For this reason, each page with an image has a corresponding label at the bottom of the page to signify its order among the parts. The parts were presumably compiled by a G. Sharpe, whose signature appears on the blank pages prior to the assembled novel’s frontispiece and title page. Along with his signature is the date handwritten as follows: July 16, 1841. However, the name and date are crossed out, implying that this edition had multiple owners.
The book is bound in a cloth detailed with an artificially ingrained texture. Sharpe chose to use leather on the edges of the cover and the binding of the spine which has kept the exterior of the book in great condition for its age. The pages are speckled with red thinned out paint which was a common aesthetic for nineteenth-century books. The book is in very good condition due to the binding that Sharpe chose for the book. However, the pages have become slightly yellow and brittle with age. There are some pages that were saturated by a substance as well as a few torn pages that have been mended by the Special Collections archivists. The book was easily elegant in its day, as can be seen through the careful measures taken by Sharpe in binding it. The worn quality of Angelina demonstrates its popularity when Prest was at the prime of his career.
The detail in the images of Angelina are impressive compared to other texts of its days, displaying aesthetic visions specific to the author. Images during the Gothic period of literature were produced through making woodblock prints. Such prints were created by physically carving into wood to create the desired image. They would have been lined up with the text and inked during the printing process. At the beginning of the book, opposite the title page, is a frontispiece, which is the largest image in the book and the only image that possesses a quote. It reads, “They soon entered a spacious and lofty cavern, round which were piled on immense number of casks, chests, bales of goods, while arms and ammunition were there in abundance.” This sentence describes the setting most important to the narration in Angelina.
As to the type itself, the font size is much smaller than is usually seen today. The margins are typical in size, yet there is no inner margin which is a current stylistic feature for books. The images are placed every four pages on the front of the right page since it was released as parts rather than an entire novel. The images are a page and a half in size, featuring artistry of woodblock printed images that are hard to come by anymore.
Angelina: Or, the Mystery at St. Mark’s Abbey was published in 1841 by Edward Lloyd of London. Lloyd regulated many newspapers, the most successful of them being Lloyd’s Weekly Newspaper and The Penny Sunday TimesandPeople’s Police Gazette; Angelina was published in the latter. He gained the nickname “father of the cheap press” as he sought to bring exciting literary works to the lower classes. Lloyd played a part in history through assisting the rise of the serial novel in which a new part would appear in successive weekly editions of a newspaper. Angelina, in particular, is one of many of Prest’s successful serial novels that appeared courtesy of Lloyd and his work as a newspaper proprietor. Journalist Anne Humphrey’s states that “perhaps half of Lloyd’s penny bloods” were written by Prest, who was “one of his most prolific and most successful authors”. The significance of the serial novel and the success of Angelina are both referenced in the preface of the novel Angelina.
Interestingly, the edition of the novel housed in the Sadleir-Black Collection does not include a preface at all, though a preface does appear in other editions. The preface can be found online through a scanned edition published courtesy of the New York Public Library on Google Books.
The preface functions as both a historical reference as well as an advertisement. The first paragraph of the preface discusses the popularity of Angelina upon its release in the “penny” press, which led its pieces to later be compiled into a novel format. The author of the preface informs the readers that Angelina’s pieces were originally published in The Penny Sunday TimesandPeople’s Police Gazette.
Prest appears most frequently in scholarly works related to his involvement with the serial novels of the penny press. Prest’s work in particular falls under the category of penny dreadfuls, or the terror genre of the penny press. This nineteenth-century phenomena began through its reproduction of eighteenth century gothic fiction via cheap means. Currently, only one of Prest’s works, The String of Pearls is more widely recognized as a significant and impactful part of this literature.
Though there is a lack of information on Prest himself, the author obviously sought to promote himself through an advertisement which is the second half of the preface. The phrase “New and Entirely Original Tale of Romance and Pathos” along with Prest’s upcoming works Emily Fitzomord; Or, The Deserted One and The Death Grasp; Or, A Father’s Curse emphasize the importance in self-promotion for both Lloyd and Prest.
Despite their combined efforts, Prest experienced a success limited to his day and age as only one of his characters is truly known today. However, Angelina, being one of Prest’s earlier works, most likely influenced the author’s writing style and, therefore, his subsequent works. In particular, the elements of terror in Angelina were just the beginning of Prest’s concepts that would appear in The String of Pearls. The latter work was adapted for the theatre which debuted in March of 1847 and is the basis for the modern-day movie adaptation Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (“Sweeney Todd”). While Angelina can be found in modern day print published by HardPress and accessible via Kindle. Its current lack of reviews allude to the lack of popularity Prest receives today. The String of Pearls, on the other hand, can be readily found in print and in theatrical adaptation.
Narrative Point of View
Angelina: Or, The Mystery of St. Mark’s Abbey is told through third-person omniscient narration. The narrator does not play an active role in the storyline; however, they hardly makes himself known until the end of the novel, when the backstories of characters are finally revealed. At this point, they speak directly to the reader before divulging events of the past that have remained hidden. Overall, the narration is very detailed and elaborative, yet the narrator remains detached in their descriptions of events and emotions. The narrator follows the protagonist, Angelina, until she becomes separated from her loved ones, which happens frequently in the novel. When Angelina gets kidnapped, the narrator proves their omniscient perspective in cycling through each scenario for Angelina, her Uncle Woodfield, and her lover Hugh Clifford.
Sample Passage of Third-Person Narration:
Saint Mark’s Abbey had evidently been a splendid edifice, but it had been left to decay for many years, and few persons in the place would venture to approach it after night-fall, for, like most old buildings, it was reported to be haunted, and many appalling legends were related by the old gossips, as they sat trembling before their blazing fire on a winter evening, concerning the dreadful crimes which had been perpetrated within its mouldering walls. The more reasonable, and less superstitious portion of the community, however, accounted for the noises that had been heard to issue at various periods from the gothic pile, in a far more probable way; and it was strongly suspected that the abbey was, in fact, the retreat of a gang of robbers or smugglers—more particularly the latter, and although the proper authorities had hitherto failed in making any satisfactory discovery, it was still hoped that they would succeed ere long in doing so, and in setting all doubts upon the subject at rest. (2)
In this passage, the narrator is describing the setting most central to the novel, St. Mark’s Abbey, or what is left of it. The description of the abbey is done through focusing on the conditions surrounding the ruins, which sets the tone for the setting itself. The narrator uses their omniscience to impart the emotions of the surrounding peoples who keep their distance from the ruins, regardless of what they believe. The narrator first relays the more superstitious group of people who have heard rumors of terrible crimes being committed within its now decaying walls. After this, the narrator describes the more realistic option, which foreshadows the end of the novel when it is revealed that Angelina’s mother, Matilda, and her mother’s cousin, Emmeline, are still alive. The narrator’s knowledge of both scenarios reflects their omniscience.
Sample Passage of Direct Address:
We will now proceed to detail the particulars of the “strange eventful history” connected with the principle characters in our narrative, and with which the reader is, no doubt, anxious to be made acquainted. (215)
This passage occurs at the end of the novel, just before the backstories are revealed. The narrator uses the pronoun “we” to describe who is telling the story, an intimacy that is reinforced by the inclusion of the word “our” later in the sentence. Interestingly, the narrator, who usually sets the mood though their lengthy descriptions, here decides to directly address the readers. By saying that the reader is “no doubt, anxious to be made acquainted,” the narrator breaks the fourth wall, reminding the reader of the fictive nature of the content in making a clear cut between the present and the past.
The novel begins with the protagonist, Angelina, who is accompanied by her cousin, Lauren Woodfield. While in the deserted ruins of St. Mark’s Abbey, the young ladies see the apparition of a woman that warns Angelina not to return there for her own safety. However, Angelina’s brave spirit only causes her to become increasingly curious as she sees another apparition while exploring a nearby cavern during a storm. This apparition is a handsome man that plays the flute and appears later in Angelina’s dreams. Upon waking from this dream, Angelina returns to the cave, this time finding a door leading to a gallery. Coincidentally, this gallery belongs to St. Mark’s Abbey. To her surprise, Angelina finds she is not alone when she sees the villainous Baron de Morton and his servant Rufus. The pair are quietly discussing a terrible secret. Angelina accidently reveals herself to the Baron, who becomes frightened upon believing her to be a ghost related to his dark deeds. The narrator here divulges the Baron’s history, most importantly stating the interesting nature of his brother’s disappearance followed by his marriage to a widowed baroness. Angelina then overhears a conversation between Rufus and the Baron, in which they speak about Angelina and proclaim that she must die. Angelina returns home shaken.
The first apparition of the woman returns, this time visiting Angelina’s uncle, Arthur Woodfield, with whom she lives. The apparition speaks to him privately, causing Arthur to be stern during an unexpected meeting with the Baron when he shows up at the Woodfield’s. Afterwards, the Baron leaves obviously upset and Arthur refuses to talk to his family about either the Baron or the woman. The only insight he gives them is through the promise he forces Angelina to make: she can never return to the Abbey.
Despite her promise, Angelina returns many weeks later, this time discovering a sliding picture frame that conceals a room similar to Angelina’s dreams. She witnesses a woman running about the ruins but she refuses to speak and runs away instead. Upon searching the premises, she is startled upon finding a chest containing bones. Angelina resolves to leave but runs into the Baron, who is frightened of her, initially believing her to be a ghost. Suddenly, the Baron grabs her arm and attempts to end her life, just as she had experienced in her dreams. The flute-playing apparition appears and saves her from the Baron, revealing himself to actually be a young man. Without introducing himself, he makes it obvious that he wants to protect Angelina. The next night, Angelina hears a sweet melody coming from beyond her window; she looks out to see the stranger once again.
The next day, Angelina is wandering outside, contemplating her feelings toward the mysterious stranger, when he appears and admits his feelings towards her, presenting her with a miniature of himself. That evening, while exploring the cavern, she sees the handsome stranger with some smugglers. Angelina is captured and taken aboard a ship by a different group of bandits. They eventually reach land, where she discovers she has been captured under the designs of the Baron, who questions her of her origins and her parents; Angelina knows none of her descent beyond the Woodfields. Bridget, who resents being married to one of the bandits, takes care of Angelina. It is only after Angelina attempts to make her solo escape that Bridget opens up to her. The castle where Angelina is being held captive has a dark history including the possible murder of the Baron’s brother who mysteriously disappeared; this information is striking to Angelina as she has felt a cold arm on her every night as she sleeps. Bridget then hints towards the portrait on the wall, behind which is a doorway that leads to a room where Angelina can overhearing the Baron’s conversation with Rufus. The Baron states that his suspicions have been confirmed and Angelina must be executed; Rufus tells him to wait. Shaken by these comments, Angelina puts her faith in Bridget, who sacrifices herself to save Angelina.
Returning to the Woodfields, the narrator reveals that the female apparition is actually a woman known as Kate of the Ruins who is friends with the mysterious stranger and smuggler, Hugh Clifford, or Angelina’s mysterious stranger. After Kate seeks out Arthur, Hugh reveals his plans to rescue her; Bridget aids them. Kate speaks to Angelina, warning her against reciprocating the flirtatious nature of her relationship with Hugh. Later that night, Angelina wakes to see yet another apparition giving her a kiss on the cheek, which Kate attributes to her imagination. However, Bridget had mentioned that Kate of the Ruins was in touch with the supernatural and had bewitched the grounds of St. Mark’s Abbey.
The next day Angelina and her uncle return home, only to hear a knock on the door and find Hugh, wounded. The Woodfields take care of him and Laura senses the romantic tension between Angelina and Hugh. Despite Kate’s warning, the affections between the pair only intensify until Arthur catches them during a rendezvous. Arthur reprimands them both and is backed up by the sudden appearance of Kate, who reminds them of the conversations she had with each of them. Their forced separation leads to despair for all parties involved. Angelina’s aunt and cousin question Arthur’s decision; he responds ambiguously, expressing empathy yet stating that the pair cannot be. Kate makes Angelina promise not to become involved with Hugh, revealing that she is speaking on behalf of Angelina’s deceased mother. The sight of her mother baffles her as it is the same apparition who kissed her on the cheek earlier. Angelina’s depressive state convinces Arthur to send Angelina to stay with Mrs. Montmorency, a distant relative whose daughter, Charlotte, is around the same age as Angelina.
A few months later, Angelina looks out the window to see that Hugh has found her. The pair argue about their fate due to his persistence in finding her, but they are interrupted by ruffians who kidnap them. Ruthven takes Angelina to an underground dungeon in which she hears the moans of someone suffering; the Baron shows her that it is Bridget and she passes out. When Angelina comes to in a nice room, the Baron enters, proceeding to profess his love for her but is steadily refused; he attempts to bribe her with Hugh’s freedom and refrains from kissing her when he looks upon the painting behind her in fear. Angelina is reunited with Bridget, who has healed and is to be contained with her. Bridget goes on to tell her story, which is very similar to Angelina’s; however, in this case, it was Bridget’s parents who forbid their relationship, believing the façade that Rufus showed them. She married Rufus against her will, after which they eventually ended up at the old Grey Tower. It was then that Rufus left, returning with Angelina in tow. When it was discovered that Bridget helped Angelina escape, she is tortured and nearly dies of starvation. Bridget then discloses information about Ophelia de Morton, the woman in the portrait, whom she says that Angelina resembles. She speaks of the mysterious death of Ophelia’s husband, Baron Edward de Morton. Shortly after, the baroness married Edward’s brother since she was carrying his child. The baroness, referred to as the “Lady of White,” was brought to the old Grey Tower, where she bore a stillborn child, although there is said to be some doubt about its fate. It is said that this Lady’s musical talents, once heard in the tower, can still be heard from the ruins of St. Mark’s Abbey. After this bonding experience, Bridget and Angelina are forced onto a boat.
Meanwhile, Ms. Montmorency and Charlotte look for Angelina and write to Mr. Woodfield about her disappearance after they find blood near her miniature of Hugh. Mr. Woodfield persists on seeing the baroness Orillia, Baron de Morton’s wife, to demand the Baron’s location, explaining the situation to her. She is flustered as he catches her in the middle of an affair and is uncompromising as she thinks that Angelina is replacing her in the eyes of her husband. Mr. Woodfield responds by hinting at having more noble blood than she does. The baroness feels vengeful towards Angelina and sends for the Marquis Florendos, whom she has grown fond of, so he can assassinate them.
Mr. Woodfield leaves knowing he must get justice for both himself and the baroness to protect his niece. He becomes suspicious of the help from Kate of the Ruins, but she changes his mind in revealing her knowledge of his true identity, Sir Eustace Arlingham, and produces a treasure which he had left in the ruins of the Abbey years ago. The pair proceed to talk about his long-deceased sister Emmeline, who she reveals herself to be. She admits to him that Angelina is not her child and that Angelina’s mother, baroness Matilda de Morton, is alive. Furthermore, she states that Hugh is her child but he has yet to find out. Emmeline explains that her and Matilda have been watching over Angelina and assures him of her own innocence. He believes her and follows her to the vaults in which Matilda has been living.
Returning to Hugh’s circumstances, he is being held captive and losing hope for his lover, Angelina. He is saved by Winston, a former crew member of his, who is sent to attend to him. The pair leave together, explaining the reasoning behind Bridget and Angelina’s sudden leave from the old Grey Tower.
The ship carrying Bridget and Angelina wrecks, and the pair miraculously end up at the fisherman’s hut where Hugh and Winston are taking shelter. They all return home the day after Emmeline’s confession, but before their lineage can be exposed, the baroness Matilda enters, giving in to Angelina’s cries for her mother.
The narrator goes on to tell the story of the family Arlingham, which was of wealthy and noble descent. Lady Emmelina and Sir Eustace are the children of Sir Edward Arlighman and the baroness Arlingham. The four of them lived in a castle with their cousin, the orphan child of the baroness’ sister. After the sudden death of the baroness, Sir Edward passed away, leaving Eustace in charge of himself, his sister, and their cousin. Eustace and Matilda both found lovers who got along with one another as well as Emmeline. One day, the five of them witness a shipwreck which leads to their meeting of Sir Vincent Rosenford and his two companions. Upon seeing Vincent, Eustace’s wife shudders at him and begins to go mad. Sir Vincent and one of his companions, Lord Dalton, make frequent visits, and Lord Dalton eventually asks for Emmeline’s hand. Eustace urges her to marry him and she eventually gives in. However, after a short period, she elopes with Sir Vincent. As a result, Eustace’s wife gets deathly sick but has one last period of reason in which she admits that Sir Vincent was her first love and that they had an affair after his repeated visits and persistence with her. With this confession, she passes away. Eustace’s bad luck continues as Emmeline’s story is viewed as scandalous, causing him to lose his title in the court. Before he can receive a prison sentence, he escapes on a ship headed to Flanders, where he recreates his identity and eventually remarries. One day, he finds a baby at his door with a note from Emmeline to take care of her child, which she wanted to name Angelina.
Returning to present day, Emmeline apologizes to Eustace and points out that he should not have forced her into marriage. She then explains that her marriage with Lord Dalton became a good one, and that she actually bore his child, contrary to rumors. However, Lord Vincent Rosenford followed her and confessed his love, becoming cynical upon her denial of him. He told her that she should not deny him and proceeded to kidnap her while she is on a walk one evening. Emmeline expresses the anguish she felt as she was forced upon a ship that was then destroyed by a storm. It was not until after this event that she met Captain Clifford, who saved her and her infant son from drowning. Captain Clifford then became a smuggler, but he continued to look after Emmeline’s child. Emmeline recalls that he made a vow to be another parent to the child regardless of circumstance. Emmeline had then attempted to return home only to hear of Eustace’s scandals, which she emphasizes are now irrelevant. Shortly after, Emmeline returned to Captain Clifford and was introduced to his wife, who also takes pity on her. Emmeline also sought out her cousin’s current husband, the Baron de Morton, brother of her prior husband. To her shock, he informed her that the baroness has passed away. Unfortunately, it was upon her return to the Cliffords in which she was kidnapped, this time by Rufus and some ruffians; she was taken to the old Grey Tower. Upon her escape, she returned to the Cliffords to find that his wife has passed away, causing him to return to sea with her child, Hugh. Luckily, having possession of some money allowed Emmeline to return to a place that Captain Clifford had shown her, which was connected to the ruins of an old abbey, which the readers know as St. Mark’s Abbey. To her astonishment, Emmeline finds the baroness Matilda there. Emmeline then stops her narrative there, requesting that the baroness herself iterate the rest of the story. After the baroness refuses, Emmeline continues, telling of the cruel manner in which Matilda’s second husband treated her.
After forcing a secret marriage in the middle of the night, the baron stole her away to the old Grey Tower, in which she bore him a baby girl. Matilda was told that her baby was a stillborn; however, she felt that the baron was somehow responsible not only for the fate of their child, but for the mysterious disappearance of her first husband. After Matilda healed, she sought out her old nurse, explaining the situation to her. She instead found the daughter of her nurse, who was told by her husband of the deliverance of a baby to their neighbors. Matilda ran next door, looked upon the baby, and instantly recognized her as her own. The baroness also recognized a mark of companionship on her daughter’s arm, signifying that it was Bridget’s parents who saved baby Angelina. Matilda resolved then to live in the abbey, following the same line of thought as Emmeline in seeking shelter in the supposedly haunted place. In this way, Matilda and Emmeline were reunited. Captain Clifford returned, informing Matilda that her child was being attended to by a nearby nurse. The women related to him their plan of being covert in order to deliver retribution. Emmeline then relates that it was her who delivered the baby to Eustace so that he would care for the child. Emmeline recalls having been worried about the locket which she had left with Angelina; Eustace recalls his curiosity about it initially.
The storyline ends here as Emmeline concludes by coming back to her warnings to Eustace, Hugh, and Angelina, which can be understood as prevented due to its ill-timing as this was before the true nature of their births were revealed. The book finishes with a conclusion that doles out poetic justice. Sir Eustace Arlingham seeks justice via the court for himself, his sister, and their cousin. The king pities them and returns to them their respective riches and titles, having heard some news of the baron’s death along with his confessions of treason. Emmeline is reunited with her husband, and Hugh with his true parents. Orillia shamefully runs off with the Marquis Florendos after hearing word of her husband’s death. Angelina and Hugh get married and are surprised when they are approached by Bridget, who was miraculously cured. These three live together in their castle near the Woodfields and the Daltons. Angelina’s cousin, Laura, finds a gentleman whom she marries. Lady de Morton revives the abbey and the narrator explains the use of Emmeline’s scare tactics, such as the chest of bones, to ward of any early discovery of the pair’s plot. The author ends with “Thus, then, do we end ‘This round unvarnished tale’”—referring to the cyclic tropes of the novel and of life in general (236).
Humpherys, Anne. “Edward Lloyd.” British Literary Publishing Houses, 1820-1880, edited by Patricia Anderson and Jonathan Rose, Dictionary of Literary Biography, vol. 106. Detroit, Michigan, Gale, 1991. Literature Resource Center.