In
Chapter 17 of Mansfield Park, in the
midst of the Lovers Vows amateur
theatricals episode, Mary Crawford and sister Mrs. Grant discuss brother Henry
Crawford’s dangerous flirtations with sisters Maria and Julia Bertram:
“...Fanny's
heart was not absolutely the only saddened one amongst them, as she soon began
to acknowledge to herself. Julia was a sufferer too, though not quite so
blamelessly. Henry Crawford had trifled
with her feelings; but she had very long allowed and even sought his
attentions, with a jealousy of her sister so reasonable as ought to have been
their cure; and now that the conviction of his preference for Maria had been
forced on her, she submitted to it without any alarm for Maria's situation, or
any endeavour at rational tranquillity for herself. She either sat in gloomy
silence, wrapt in such gravity as nothing could subdue, no curiosity touch, no wit
amuse; or allowing the attentions of Mr. Yates, was talking with forced gaiety
to him alone, and ridiculing the acting of the others.
For a day or two after the affront
was given, Henry Crawford had endeavoured to do it away by the usual attack of
gallantry and compliment, but he had not cared enough about it to persevere
against a few repulses; and becoming soon too busy with his play to have time
for more than one flirtation, he grew indifferent to the quarrel, or rather
thought it a lucky occurrence, as quietly putting an end to what might ere long
have raised expectations in more than Mrs. Grant. She was not pleased to see
Julia excluded from the play, and sitting by disregarded; but as it was not a
matter which really involved her happiness, as Henry must be the best judge of
his own, and as he did assure her, with a most persuasive smile, that neither
he nor Julia had ever had a serious thought of each other, she could only renew
her former caution as to the elder sister, entreat him not to risk his
tranquillity by too much admiration there, and then gladly take her share in
anything that brought cheerfulness to the young people in general, and that did
so particularly promote the pleasure of the two so dear to her.
"I rather wonder Julia is not
in love with Henry," was her observation to Mary.
"I dare say she is,"
replied Mary coldly. "I imagine both sisters are."
"Both! no, no, that must not
be. Do not give him a hint of it. Think of Mr. Rushworth!"
"You had better tell Miss
Bertram to think of Mr. Rushworth. It may do her some good. I often
think of Mr. Rushworth's property and independence, and wish them in other
hands; but I never think of him. A man might represent the county with such an
estate; a man might escape a profession and represent the county."
"I dare say he will be
in parliament soon. When Sir Thomas comes, I dare say he will be in for some
borough, but there has been nobody to put him in the way of doing anything
yet."
"Sir Thomas is to achieve many
mighty things when he comes home," said Mary, after a pause. "Do you
remember Hawkins Browne's 'Address to Tobacco,' in imitation of Pope?—
Blest leaf! whose aromatic gales dispense
To Templars modesty, to Parsons sense.
I will parody them—
Blest Knight! whose dictatorial looks dispense
To Children affluence, to Rushworth sense.
Will not that do, Mrs. Grant?
Everything seems to depend upon Sir Thomas's return."
"You will find his consequence
very just and reasonable when you see him in his family, I assure you. I do not
think we do so well without him. He has a fine dignified manner, which suits
the head of such a house, and keeps everybody in their place. Lady Bertram
seems more of a cipher now than when he is at home; and nobody else can keep
Mrs. Norris in order. But, Mary, do not fancy that Maria Bertram cares for
Henry. I am sure Julia does not, or she would not have flirted as she
did last night with Mr. Yates; and though he and Maria are very good friends, I
think she likes Sotherton too well to be inconstant."
"I would not give much for Mr.
Rushworth's chance if Henry stept in before the articles were signed."
"If you have such a suspicion,
something must be done; and as soon as the play is all over, we will talk to
him seriously and make him know his own mind; and if he means nothing, we will send
him off, though he is Henry, for a time."
Julia did suffer, however,
though Mrs. Grant discerned it not, and though it escaped the notice of many of
her own family likewise….’ “ END QUOTE
As
you saw above, it was in the context of discussing the soon-to-return Sir
Thomas’s power to further Rushworth’s
Parliamentary prospects that Mary, “after a pause” (suggesting she’s been
thinking) offers up an adlibbed parody of a famous couplet from (Isaac) Hawkins
Browne’s 1736 imitation of the much more renowned Alexander Pope. Here is
Browne’s “Address to Tobacco”, a short poem, in full:
Epigraph:
“Vanescit Solis ad ortus Fumus”—Lucan
[translated
as “the smoke that fades away at sunrise” and explained in Browne’s 3rd
edition as follows: “This is intended as a great Compliment to the Poet
imitated, who is here represented as the Sun, at whose Rising the Smoke, or
Fog, is immediately dispers’d; his Writing being so fine and pure, that it
suffers no Obscurity to attend it.”]
Blest
Leaf! whose aromatic gales dispense
To Templars modesty, to parsons sense:
So raptur'd priests, at fam'd Dodona's shrine
Drank inspiration from the steam divine.
Poison that cures, a vapour that affords
Content, more solid than the smile of lords:
Rest to the weary, to the hungry food,
The last kind refuge of the wise and good:
Inspir'd by thee, dull cits adjust the scale
Of Europe's peace, when other statesmen fail.
By thee protected, and thy sister, beer,
Poets rejoice, nor think the bailiff near.
Nor less, the critic owns thy genial aid,
While supperless he plies the piddling trade.
What tho' to love and soft delights a foe,
By ladies hated, hated by the beau,
Yet social freedom, long to courts unknown,
Fair health, fair truth, and virtue are thy own.
Come to thy poet, come with healing wings,
And let me taste thee unexcis'd by kings.
To Templars modesty, to parsons sense:
So raptur'd priests, at fam'd Dodona's shrine
Drank inspiration from the steam divine.
Poison that cures, a vapour that affords
Content, more solid than the smile of lords:
Rest to the weary, to the hungry food,
The last kind refuge of the wise and good:
Inspir'd by thee, dull cits adjust the scale
Of Europe's peace, when other statesmen fail.
By thee protected, and thy sister, beer,
Poets rejoice, nor think the bailiff near.
Nor less, the critic owns thy genial aid,
While supperless he plies the piddling trade.
What tho' to love and soft delights a foe,
By ladies hated, hated by the beau,
Yet social freedom, long to courts unknown,
Fair health, fair truth, and virtue are thy own.
Come to thy poet, come with healing wings,
And let me taste thee unexcis'd by kings.
Until
today, I was entirely unaware of the pun hidden in plain sight in the very same
opening couplet that Mary parodies--- can you spot it now? [scroll down for the answer]
……
……
The
pun rests on Browne’s satirical conceit that “aromatic gales” of tobacco smoke can
magically “dispense” “sense” to those who inhale it. The ironic counterpoint is
that if not “sense”, at the very least the tobacco smoke will literally “dispense”
“scents”! But here’s what caught me totally by surprise: it turns out that this
pun is one of four crucial textual clues in Browne’s poem, which all point to a
deeper, shocking source behind Browne’s parody, and behind Mary’s parody of a
Browne’s parody, all to be revealed by this post’s end.
I’ve
quoted you that passage from MP, and also Browne’s poem, because I sleuthed out
today that while Browne did indeed imitate the general style of Pope in the
above parody, he also covertly imitated one specific poem by another famous English author, an elegy
mourning the death of still another
famous English author! My analysis, below, of the above quoted passage from MP will
reveal that Mary C. (and therefore also, of course, her creator, Jane Austen)
was aware of all aspects of Browne’s covert allusion –indeed, such awareness is
why Mary, after that pregnant pause, pops out that particular parody at that
particular point in her tete-a-tete with Mrs. Grant.
So
without further ado: the specific poem by an author (other than Pope) that I
say Browne was pointing to, is one which fits all four of the following very
specific clues:
CLUE
#1: It contains a couplet, the two lines of which end with the identical words
as the Browne couplet parodied by Mary; and
CLUE
#2: It contains that same pun on sense/scents which we find in that Browne
couplet; and
CLUE
#3: It contains a stanza which fits perfectly with Browne’s explanation of his
Latin epigraph as reflective of the imitated poet as being “represented as the
sun”; and
CLUE
#4: It contains a reference to a historical name shared with a character in Mansfield Park mentioned five times during
Mary’s brief discussion with Mrs. Grant.
I.e.,
the answers to these 4 clues converge on my 2 related claims: (a) that Browne consciously
imitated a poem by a writer other than Pope; and (b) that Mary C. and Jane A.
were aware of Browne’s imitation of that earlier poem. You may
well now ask, why should we suspect Mary Crawford of a secret allusion, when
she so matter of factly calls Browne’s poem an imitation of Pope, and when the
general Regency Era understanding was the same, as per Warton’s 1782 quotation
of Pope’s approval of Browne’s poetry: “Brown
is an excellent copyist, and those who take his imitations amiss, are much in
the wrong; they are very strongly mannered, and few perhaps could write so well
if they were not so.”
Here’s
why. On a couple of occasions over the past decade, always suspecting both Mary
Crawford and Jane Austen of a trick, I’ve attempted to locate the specific
passage in Pope’s poetry which Browne imitated, hoping it would reveal
something interesting. But each time I was disappointed that I met with no
success, despite exhaustive computer keyword searching of volumes of Pope’s
collected poetry. While I did find a nonspecific sort of echoing of the style
of Pope’s famous couplets in those verses of Browne’s, I always found it unsatisfying
that Browne apparently had no specific Pope poem in mind. It didn’t make sense
that JA would insert such a wormhole in her novel, if it led nowhere
interesting. Plus, Browne’s teasing explanation of the Lucan epigraph struck me
like a deliberate clue, as if telling the reader that the poem being imitated
had sun imagery in it. And, finally, Browne did NOT name the poet, which left
the intriguing possibility that it wasn’t Pope, or, at least, it wasn’t ONLY
Pope!
And
it luckily turned out that my instincts were good. So, now I’ll take up each of
the above four clues one by one, and then at the end of this post reveal the
identity of the imitated poet, and the title of the imitated poem:
CLUE
#1: It contains a couplet, the two lines of which end with the identical words
as the Browne couplet parodied by Mary:
Here
is Browne’s couplet:
Blest
leaf! whose aromatic gales dispense
To Templars modesty, to parsons sense:
To Templars modesty, to parsons sense:
And
now here is the couplet I say Browne was imitating, which is the beginning of
the second stanza of the poem that contains it:
His
name’s a genius that wou’d wit dispense
And
give the Theme a Soul, the Words a sense.
Do
I have to explain why I’m certain that Browne’s couplet was based directly on
that other couplet? It’s not just the identical final words of each line, and
the closely parallel phrasing, it’s also the parallel sense (ha ha) of each
couplet. I.e., in Browne, tobacco smoke magically dispenses “sense”; in his
model, it’s the name and the “wit” of the genius being eulogized which has the
same magic power.
CLUE
#2: It contains that same pun on sense/scents which we find in that Browne
couplet.
Here
is the first half of the final stanza of the poem I say was imitated by Browne:
Large
was his Fame, but short his Glorious Race,
Like young Lucretius and dy'd apace.
So early Roses fade, so over all
They cast their fragrant SCENTS, then softly fall,
While all the scatter'd PERFUM’D leaves declare,
How lovely 'twas when whole, how sweet, how fair.
Like young Lucretius and dy'd apace.
So early Roses fade, so over all
They cast their fragrant SCENTS, then softly fall,
While all the scatter'd PERFUM’D leaves declare,
How lovely 'twas when whole, how sweet, how fair.
Is
it just a coincidence that the other poem, which consists of a total of only
five stanzas, has one stanza significantly referring to the dispensation of “sense”,
and then another one significantly referring to the casting of “scents”? Especially
when combined with the answers to the other three clues, NO!
CLUE
#3: It contains
a stanza which fits perfectly with Browne’s explanation of his Latin epigraph
as reflective of the imitated poet as being “represented as the sun”.
Here
is the first stanza of the poem I say was imitated by Browne:
Mourn,
Mourn, ye Muses, all your loss deplore,
The Young, the Noble Strephon is no more.
Yes, yes, HE FLED QUICK AS DEPARTING LIGHT,
And NE’RE SHALL RISE FROM Deaths eternal NIGHT,
So rich a Prize the STYGIAN GODS ne're bore,
Such WIT, such Beauty, never grac'd their Shore.
He was but lent this duller World t'improve
In all the charms of Poetry, and Love;
Both were his gift, which freely he bestow'd,
And like a God, dealt to the wond'ring Crowd.
Scorning the little Vanity of Fame,
Spight of himself attain'd a Glorious name.
But oh! in vain was all his peevish Pride,
THE SUN AS SOON MIGHT HIS VAST LUSTRE HIDE,
As piercing, pointed, and MORE LASTING BRIGHT,
As SUFFERING NO VICISSITUDES OF NIGHT.
The Young, the Noble Strephon is no more.
Yes, yes, HE FLED QUICK AS DEPARTING LIGHT,
And NE’RE SHALL RISE FROM Deaths eternal NIGHT,
So rich a Prize the STYGIAN GODS ne're bore,
Such WIT, such Beauty, never grac'd their Shore.
He was but lent this duller World t'improve
In all the charms of Poetry, and Love;
Both were his gift, which freely he bestow'd,
And like a God, dealt to the wond'ring Crowd.
Scorning the little Vanity of Fame,
Spight of himself attain'd a Glorious name.
But oh! in vain was all his peevish Pride,
THE SUN AS SOON MIGHT HIS VAST LUSTRE HIDE,
As piercing, pointed, and MORE LASTING BRIGHT,
As SUFFERING NO VICISSITUDES OF NIGHT.
Again,
it should be clear how totally the above stanza revolves around the conceit of
the eulogized poet as a “sun” who brings light to the world, which is exactly
what Browne’s explanation of his Lucan epigraph was all about.
CLUE
#4: It contains a reference to a non-English name shared with another character
in Mansfield Park, a character who is
mentioned five times during Mary’s brief discussion with Mrs. Grant that
includes Mary’s adlibbing her parody.
For
the answer, check out the second half of the final stanza of the poem I claim
Browne was imitating:
Had
he been to the Roman Empire known,
When great Augustus fill'd the peaceful Throne;
Had he the noble wond'rous Poet seen,
And known his Genius, and survey'd his Meen,
(When Wits, and Heroes grac'd Divine abodes,)
He had increas'd the number of their Gods;
The Royal Judge had TEMPLES rear'd to's name,
And made him as Immortal as his Fame;
In Love and Verse his Ovid he'ad out-done,
And all his Laurels, and HIS JULIA WON.
Mourn, Mourn, unhappy World, his loss deplore,
The great, the charming Strephon is no more.
When great Augustus fill'd the peaceful Throne;
Had he the noble wond'rous Poet seen,
And known his Genius, and survey'd his Meen,
(When Wits, and Heroes grac'd Divine abodes,)
He had increas'd the number of their Gods;
The Royal Judge had TEMPLES rear'd to's name,
And made him as Immortal as his Fame;
In Love and Verse his Ovid he'ad out-done,
And all his Laurels, and HIS JULIA WON.
Mourn, Mourn, unhappy World, his loss deplore,
The great, the charming Strephon is no more.
So,
here we see a reference to “his Julia won” and guess what? Julia was the name
of ‘great Augustus’s’ only child, and here’s an online synopsis of the life of
the royal Roman daughter Julia, whose life trajectory (loveless marriage to a
rich husband, repeated adultery, then banishment to soft exile as punishment
for that adultery) sounds uncannily similar to that of Maria Rushworth in Mansfield Park:
“Augustus
was married three times but those marriages produced only one child, a
daughter, Julia. The Emperor had divorced Julia's mother before the birth
in about 39 BCE. Julia's first husband died after only two years when she was
just 16 years old. Hoping for a grandson to groom to take over the reigns of
government, Augustus arranged for her to marry Agrippa, a rich man more than
double her age. Rumor had it that she enjoyed many affairs during the marriage.
Agrippa died after 9 years, leaving Julia wealthy enough to live as she pleased
until her father stepped in and arranged yet another marriage, this time with
Tiberius, son by another husband of the Emperor's wife. Julia's third
husband, like the others before him, had been forced by Augustus to divorce an
earlier wife in order to be free to marry the Emperor's daughter. Julia
had not wished to marry again and simply resumed her many affairs; Tiberius
retired to Rhodes to live a quiet life as a private citizen. Augustus had
shamelessly arranged three marriages for his daughter in order to suit his own
political ends. Though he had simply taken it for granted that that was
the Roman way, he really did love her, but Julia's behavior was putting him in
a very difficult position. The moral reforms that Augustus had insisted on
making law required a father to act if a husband was unwilling or unable to
curb a wife's adultery. With each new affair public pressure on Augustus
increased. He had to make an example of her or rescind the entire family
values program.
Julia
was banished to a barren island. Her daughter, also called Julia, took up
her mother's ways and was sent into exile by her grandfather to an island in
the Adriatic. Tiberius eventually became Emperor and allowed his ex-wife to
move to a somewhat less inhospitable island where she remained until her death.” END QUOTE
Plus,
we can also see in this stanza another reason why Browne included that epigraph
from a poem by Lucan about the civil war between Julius Caesar and Pompey,
which preceded the reign of Augustus”!
So
now we begin to understand one big reason why Mary pauses, and then recalls and
parodizes Browne’s parody of the earlier poem I’ve been quoting from: Mary recalls
Julia, daughter of Augustus!
And see
how neatly this piece fits in the jigsaw puzzle of the novel as a whole. Sure, Mary
had not yet arrived at Mansfield Park when the teenaged Julia or Maria
complains to Aunt Norris that Fanny is ignorant “of the Roman emperors as low
as Severus; besides a great deal of the heathen mythology, and all the metals,
semi-metals, planets, and distinguished philosophers.". But now that we
understand the Roman Augustan subtext behind Mary’s parody on Browne, we can
connect the dots back a half dozen chapters to Mary’s first thinly veiled
allusion to compulsory Roman royal loveless marriage as the model for Maria and
Mr. Rushworth’s impending nuptials upon Sir Thomas’s return from Antigua:
"How happy Mr. Rushworth looks!
He is thinking of November."
Edmund looked round at Mr. Rushworth
too, but had nothing to say.
"Your father's return will be a
very interesting event."
"It will, indeed, after such an
absence; an absence not only long, but including so many dangers."
"It will be the forerunner also
of other interesting events: your sister's marriage, and your taking
orders."
"Yes."
"Don't be affronted," said
she, laughing, "but it does put me in mind of some of the old heathen
heroes, who, after performing great exploits in a foreign land, offered
sacrifices to the gods on their safe return."
"There is no sacrifice in the
case," replied Edmund, with a serious smile, and glancing at the
pianoforte again; "it is entirely her own doing."
"Oh yes I know it is. I was
merely joking. She has done no more than what every young woman would do; and I
have no doubt of her being extremely happy….”
And finally I am also now certain
that Jane Austen was broadly winking at the public furor in 1813-4 England,
while JA was writing Mansfield Park,
about the Prince Regent’s attempts to force his daughter Princess Charlotte to
marry a man she didn’t love, as described in Wikipedia:
“In
1813…George began to seriously consider the question of Charlotte's marriage.
The Prince Regent and his advisors decided on William, Hereditary Prince of
Orange…Such a marriage would increase British influence in NW Europe. William
made a poor impression on Charlotte when she first saw him, …when he became
intoxicated, as did the Prince Regent himself and many of the guests. Although
no one in authority had spoken to Charlotte about the proposed marriage, she
was quite familiar with the plan through palace whispers…Believing that his
daughter intended to marry William, Duke of Gloucester, the Prince Regent saw
his daughter and verbally abused both her and Gloucester…The matter soon leaked
to the papers…The Prince Regent attempted a gentler approach, but failed to
convince Charlotte who wrote that "I could not quit this country, as Queen
of England still less" and that if they wed, the Prince of Orange
would have to "visit his frogs solo". However, on 12 December,
the Prince Regent arranged a meeting between Charlotte and the Prince of Orange
at a dinner party, and asked Charlotte for her decision. She stated that she
liked what she had seen so far, which George took as an acceptance, and quickly
called in the Prince of Orange to inform him.
Negotiations
over the marriage contract took several months, with Charlotte insisting that
she not be required to leave Britain….On 10 June 1814, Charlotte signed the
marriage contract. Charlotte had become besotted with a Prussian prince whose
identity is uncertain; according to Charles Greville, it was Prince AUGUSTUS [a
Prussian general]…At a party at the Pulteney Hotel in London, Charlotte met a
Lieutenant-General in the Russian cavalry, Prince Leopold of
Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld. The Princess invited Leopold to call on her, an
invitation he took up, remaining for three quarters of an hour, and writing a
letter to the Prince Regent apologising for any indiscretion. This letter
impressed George very much, although he did not consider the impoverished
Leopold as a possible suitor for his daughter's hand. The Princess of Wales opposed the match
between her daughter and the Prince of Orange, and had great public support:
when Charlotte went out in public, crowds would urge her not to abandon her
mother by marrying the Prince of Orange. Charlotte informed the Prince of
Orange that if they wed, her mother would have to be welcome in their home—a
condition sure to be unacceptable to the Prince Regent. When the Prince of
Orange would not agree, Charlotte broke off the engagement. Her father's
response was to order that Charlotte remain at her residence at Warwick House
(adjacent to Carlton House) until she could be conveyed to Cranbourne Lodge at
Windsor, where she would be allowed to see no one except the Queen. When told
of this, Charlotte raced out into the street. A man, seeing her distress from a
window, helped the inexperienced Princess find a hackney cab, in which she was
conveyed to her mother's house. Caroline was visiting friends and hastened back
to her house, while Charlotte summoned Whig politicians to advise her. A number
of family members also gathered, including her uncle, Frederick, Duke of
York—with a warrant in his pocket to secure her return by force if need be.
After lengthy arguments, the Whigs advised her to return to her father's house,
which she did the next day….The story of Charlotte's flight and return was soon
the talk of the town….The Opposition press made much of the tale of the runaway
Princess.” END QUOTE
And that vivid historical account brings
me to the close of Part One of my posts about the first half of the astonishing
hidden meaning I see in Mary Crawford’s seemingly trivial parody of Browne. In
Part Two, tomorrow, I will unpack the other half of the hidden meaning I see—i.e.,
the rich implications behind Mary’s (and therefore Austen’s) covertly but
unmistakably allude to the particular poet, and to the particular poem, which
Browne was really imitating when he wrote his parody that Mary parodied.
The name of the poet?: Aphra Behn!
The name of the poem?: “On the Death of the late Earl of
Rochester”!!
Consider this a coming attraction: in
several posts during the past month, I demonstrated the pervasive presence of John
Wilmot, the infamous 2nd Earl of Rochester, inside the complex,
mysterious character of Mr. Darcy in P&P. In Part Two, I’ll explain how
Henry Crawford is a much more overt portrait of the mercurial, brilliant,
theatrical, scandalous, and sexually profligate Earl, and how Jane Austen
emulated, not just in P&P and in MP, but also in Lady Susan, Aphra Behn’s
complex portrayals of her friend, the larger than life Earl, in her writings
(both in that eulogizing poem and also in Behn’s most famous play, The Rovers).
And finally I will conclude by explaining
why I am the first Austen scholar to see all of the above—by showing that this is
a particularly good example of the terrible power of the Myth of Jane Austen to
cloud the plain meaning of JA’s allusions, such as her inclusion of the Earl of
Rochester in her subtext, because they do not fit with the conventional (and
utterly wrong) wisdom of what she is supposed to have done.
Mary Crawford saw the “sunlight” and
knew better, and after you read Part 2, so will you!
Cheers,
ARNIE
@JaneAustenCode
on Twitter
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