An Iambic Persuasion

My motivation in attempting this exercise was entirely to participate in Miss Austen’s supreme inventions. Every one of her six novels contains narrative innovation of the highest order. One might think of Sir Bertram returning to find Lovers’ Vows in rehearsal, or Maria slipping through the locked gate into the dangerous world with Henry Crawford, in Mansfield Park. A schoolgirl friend objected to Pride and Prejudice because “nothing happens, it’s all talk”; we were amused since nothing could be further from the truth. For as well as subtle and brilliant talk, the author has the ability, rarely equalled, to devise the most significant events. In Persuasion, Louisa’s fall from the Cobb, Mrs Clay’s elopement with the mysterious Mr Elliot, and most admirably, Frederick Wentworth’s letter, written in haste while interceding with another for Captain Harville, are narrative contrivances of consummate force.

The reduction to iambics is for this admirer a way of entering into these exemplary inventions.

VOLUME ONE

1 Vain baronet, Sir Walter Elliot

Of Kellynch Hall in Somersetshire, a fop

And widower, is frequently to be found

Perusing his favourite book, The Baronetage.

A widower of thirteen years, and host

Of splendid drawing rooms and objets d’art,

He has three daughters by his gentle wife:

Elisabeth now twenty-nine, unwed

And mistress of the house, a butterfly;

The youngest, Mary, now of Uppercross

And wife of Charles Musgrove, a sporting man.

And, between these two, the heroine of this tale.

Anne Elliot has an elegance of mind

Exceptional in all her family –

And unappreciated by them. Her bloom

Is somewhat faded by the years and by

A disappointment eight years earlier.

The heir to Kellynch Hall is Sir Walter’s nephew,

William Walter Elliot Esq.

Years earlier it had been hoped that he

Would marry Miss Elizabeth Elliot.

Instead he had married unexpectedly

(And quite without Sir Walter’s being asked)

A rich but socially inferior woman

(Now deceased). Thenceforth Mr Elliot

Had been a stranger, shunning Kellynch Place.

Elizabeth at twenty-nine begins

To feel the chill advance of gusting time

Despite her eminence in the social round.

Meanwhile Sir Walter living elegantly

Has lived continually beyond his means

And must, his lawyer, Mr Shepherd, warns

(Despite his blithe denials of the case)

Take stock. Plans must be made, decisions taken.

2 Lady Russell, Anne’s mother’s closest friend,

And Anne’s long trusted friend and guardian,

Is present at this odious conference.

This Lady Russell has a darker role

In Anne’s affections. Eight long years ago

Anne was in love and gravely courted by

One Frederick Wentworth, young and, at that time,

Without prestige. Against his ardent hopes

Anne was persuaded by this family friend

To give him up. Young Frederick had since then

Become a naval Captain and attained

Some fortune and a general regard,

While in that time Anne had herself acquired

A much enlightened measure of regret.

She has not wavered in regard for him

Nor yet lost Lady Russell as her friend.

3 Retrenchments for Sir Walter are proposed

By Elizabeth: curtailing charities,

Not giving Anne a birthday gift next year –

Sir Walter will not countenance more. But these

Are soon pronounced inadequate. At last

A measure which will meet the case is found:

Sir Walter must remove to cheaper rooms

And rent out Kellynch Hall. He will agree

Provided it appears that he accedes

With generous grace to much repeated pleas

From someone who shows grateful deference.

Bath is preferred to London, for in Bath

Sir Walter’s style will stand in more relief

And he will soon be fêted and receive

A gratifying shower of visiting cards.

And a tenant has been found: an Admiral Croft.

“A navy man?” Sir Walter is unimpressed.

“Such fellows look much older than their years,

What with the climate and the life at sea,

And their appearance is not elegant.”

But Mr Shepherd urges Admiral Croft

Is a man of quality; his wife, what’s more,

Is sister to the Reverend Edward Wentworth.

At this Anne flushes. Edward has a brother –

Captain Frederick Wentworth – whose career

She closely follows in the navy lists

And who will now be seen at Kellynch Hall.

4 Sir Walter meets the Admiral and approves.

“He is a man I would not be ashamed

To be seen with in the street – although his hair

Could do with rearrangement by my man.”

And so it is agreed. Elizabeth

And Mrs Clay, her close (and clinging) friend

Will, with Sir Walter, move to rooms in Bath.

But Lady Russell is alarmed at this,

Since she suspects the widow, Mrs Clay,

Is intent on capturing Sir Walter’s hand.

Anne does not wish to go with them to Bath,

But will however go to Uppercross

Since Mary is (as she is frequently,

Alas) quite indisposed and needs her there.

The transfers are effected. Admiral Croft

Moves in. Sir Walter and Elizabeth

With Mrs Clay are now at Camden Place,

A most desirable address in Bath.

5 At Uppercross Anne found her sister frail.

“I have been so unwell. I cannot speak.

I have not seen a creature all this day.

I thought that you were never going to come.

Except, that is, for Mr Musgrove, who

This morning stopped and shouted from his horse.”

She raised herself a little from the couch.

“And Charles is shooting.” Anne said, “I am sorry –”

“Of course. But someone has to carry on.”

Soon Mary had improved sufficiently

To think they might walk to the Musgrove house

And call on Mrs Musgrove and the girls

(Louisa, thirteen; Henrietta twenty.)

And as they walked she went from strength to strength.

At Uppercross, three miles from Kellynch Hall,

Anne was aware the Crofts must call on them

And she would speak with Mrs Croft, who was

The sister of that centre in her life,

The sailor sailing still far from her shores.

6 This visit happened after several weeks

And Mrs Croft seemed kind, and warmed to Anne

Without – Anne thought – the least awareness of

That great refusal eight long years before.

Instead she startled Anne by suddenly

Remarking, “Now I see that it was you

And not your sister that my brother met

When he was here. Perhaps you have not heard

That he is married.” The gulf that opened then

To swallow Anne was just as quickly closed

When Mrs Croft went on, and it was clear

That it was Edward Wentworth, clergyman,

Who now was happily settled with a wife.

Their visit now was all tranquillity

Until Anne heard the Admiral announce:

“We are expecting soon at Kellynch Hall

A brother of my wife’s, the excellent

Seafarer, Captain Frederick Wentworth. Here,

Round Uppercross, you may have heard his name?”

At which news Mrs Musgrove launched with zeal

Into high praise of his great kindnesses

To her poor Richard who (she sadly said)

Had been a wayward youth at sea – then helped

By Captain Wentworth’s patient monitoring –

But who, alas, had died while making good.

All this was clear from letters he had sent

And which she had preserved (the only ones

Not simply asking them to send him money.)

7 The day of Captain Wentworth’s visit was,

It so transpired, the day when little Charles –

Poor Mary’s eldest boy was carried home

Much bruised. It fell to Anne – since Mary must

By all considerations go with Charles

To welcome Captain Wentworth – to remain

And tend the child, who was declared in need

Of rest – no more – after his collarbone

Had been adjusted by the apothecary.

The child’s devoted parents left at once

Assured that Anne would give him all the care

Which they would do were they not called away.

The child was sleeping calmly in her care;

Alone at Uppercross, Anne thought at length

Of Frederick, half a mile away at most.

Had he desired to see her ever again?

He must, she thought, be quite indifferent

Or else he could – or would – have sought her out.

Mary and Charles were loud with Frederick’s praise.

The party was a great success, with lights

And music, singing, charming courtesies;

Anne Elliot, a slightly fading flower,

Once beautiful, it often had been said,

Heard every word, yet, as she always did

Thought only of those things which might have been.

And Charles, enthusing still, announced that he

Would, on the morrow, breakfast at his father’s

With Captain Wentworth and, perhaps, then shoot.

They looked at little Charles. And Anne felt cold.

Next morning was in shadow still when Charles

Stepped in to say he’d come to fetch the dogs,

That Captain Wentworth would be following,

With Henrietta and Louisa to pay

His compliments. Anne felt the same disquiet

While Mary fussed and was most gratified.

Soon Captain Wentworth occupied the room.

She briefly met his gaze. She heard his voice.

He spoke to Mary sympathetically.

The room seemed overfilled until they left,

The Musgrove sisters having now resolved

To walk out with the sportsmen to the fields.

Anne told herself this time had come and gone;

They had been once more in the same room.

She tried to reason: how absurd it was –

Or would be if she were to countenance

Such agitation. Eight long years had passed.

Eight years! Almost a third of her whole life…

Alas! She found that reason had no power.

Her sister Mary clearly was impressed.

“How gallant Captain Wentworth was with me.

And, by the way, you may be interested –

He said you were so altered he would not

Have known you.” Anne was silent, mortified.

“Altered beyond all knowledge!” Yet she had thought

The Frederick she had seen was quite unchanged.

Of course he must be looking elsewhere now.

She had refused him eight long years ago.

Now it was being said he well might choose

Louisa or Henrietta as a wife.

8 Now circumstance decreed that they must meet

And navigate a passage silently,

Who eight years earlier would have easily found

Ways even in the largest crowd to speak.

At Mrs Musgrove’s, conversation turned

With regularity to matters of the sea

And Captain Wentworth’s sloop The Laconia.

The Musgrove girls would eagerly consult

The shipping lists to find her. Everyone

Seemed quite entranced by naval anecdote.

The Laconia mentioned, Mrs Musgrove said,

Shedding a tear, “Yes that was where our dear

Young Richard found such kind encouragement.”

Admiral and Mrs Croft often extolled

The sailor’s life and courtship while at sea,

Even their wedded happiness on board

Despite the narrow confines of the ship.

“In all our married days I never once

Allowed long separation of our paths.”

And Frederick, jesting with his sister, said

That now he was on shore he must soon find

A partner suited to the life on land –

Although he would demand a resolute mind

And yes – he hoped – sweetness of temperament.

Another member of the present party,

Charles Hayter, cousin of the Musgroves, and

The heir to Winthrop, two miles’ walk away,

Had long aspired to Henrietta’s hand –

Who now was quite distracted by another.

And Charles forlornly found himself marooned

By this Star of the Sea, reflected everywhere:

The centre and cynosure of all eyes!

And all this while Anne felt his cold regard

And quite excessive deference when they did

Speak briefly. Now there was dancing. Anne must play,

While others danced. And someone said, when asked,

“No. Anne has not now danced for many years.”

9 Soon almost every day at Uppercross

Saw Captain Wentworth welcomed by them all

– That is, except Charles Hayter, who demurred.

Charles Hayter had a curacy, and yet

Miss Musgrove seemed to have forgotten him;

His country lanes once peaceful and secure,

Were suddenly encroached by spray and bilge.

And yet a great uncertainty prevailed:

Had Henrietta or Louisa raised

A billowing sail in Captain Wentworth’s sights?

Anne had repeatedly to hear each side

And offer her opinion. Mary was

Convinced that Henrietta won the day,

While Charles had strongly formed the opposite view.

Mary plied Anne incessantly with facts,

The lamentable inferiority

Of poor Charles Hayter and his curacy,

The captain’s clear desirability…

A dinner at the Musgroves should provide

More evidence (which Anne could scarcely need.)

But little Charles seemed still unwell and she,

So eminently suited to the task,

Could care for him. Mary must attend…

Now several days have passed at Uppercross;

The scene is set for something truly strange

And yet so slight as to remain her own:

Anne sits with little Charles. Now read on.

When Captain Wentworth walked into the room

He was surprised to find her there alone.

“I thought the two Miss Musgroves would be here.”

A further awkward silence. Then he said,

“I hope the little boy is better.” Anne

Wished she could leave but could not. Then she turned

And was surprised to see Charles Hayter there.

A stillness like a distant storm at sea

Spread through the room. When Captain Wentworth spoke,

Charles Hayter had retreated to a chair

Assiduously to read the paper. Anne

Was occupied with restless little Charles.

And here it is the strange event transpires.

Walter the younger Musgrove boy ran in;

This two-year-old, stout child looked round,

Then threw his arms about his kneeling aunt.

Anne could not shake him off. “Walter!” she cried,

“You are most troublesome. Stop this at once.”

Charles Hayter murmured – ineffectually

Without abandoning the daily news.

And then the strange symbolic action came.

She felt a burden lifted from her shoulders:

Without a word the Captain, formerly reticent,

Had seized the child and freed the kneeling Anne

And all before she realised with shock

That Frederick Wentworth had secured her release.

10 A very fine November day – the sky,

And glittering fields surrounding Uppercross,

More clear by far than Anne’s sequestered thought.

A long walk is proposed. The Musgrove girls

And Anne and Mary (somewhat peevishly)

Are setting out to see the last leaves fall.

At just this point the gentlemen returned

And joined them willingly, (not the other Charles

Who, ceding Henrietta, quit the field.)

All six stepped out in autumn’s trembling calm;

And Anne beguiled the time, and her disquiet

At his proximity, by summoning

To mind some of the thousand verse accounts

Of autumn and its wasted grandeur. He

Seemed much in converse with Louisa, more

Perhaps than with her sister. Frederick said,

“What glorious weather for the Admiral

And my good sister who have driven out.

She is always at his side.” At which Anne heard

Louisa: “If I loved a man, as she –

Your sister – loves the Admiral, I would too

Ensure that we did everything as one.”

Anne felt distracted from her autumn verse

And said, though no-one seemed to hear, “Are we

Not on a path to Winthrop?” It was so.

The unpretentious house stood in a copse.

But Mary suddenly was quite fatigued

And urged their turning back. So Charles resolved

To walk on further down the winding path

To greet his aunt. Louisa urged the same,

While Henrietta thought they should return.

Lively debate ensued. Mary was firm.

She could not walk back up that hill. She must,

If they insisted on this long descent,

Recover here and wait for their return.

At length it was agreed. Four would remain –

Or walk between the hedgerows still in fruit –

While Charles and Henrietta would descend.

While still disparaging Winthrop, Mary sat

On a convenient stile. Anne stayed nearby.

Louisa thought that nuts might still be found

Along the hedgerows. Captain Wentworth followed.

Mary and Anne sat in a cooling sun

And in the stillness heard Louisa’s voice

Approaching down the hedgerow: “I insisted.

Henrietta wavers easily.

But I persuaded her that Winthrop was

The original purpose of our walk…” Then Anne

Heard Captain Wentworth praising her resolve,

So very admirable in her character.

Their voices faded then returned. Anne heard:

“We always wished that Charles had married Anne.”

“Did she refuse him?” “Yes. Most certainly.

We were at school and so I’m not quite sure.

I think that Lady Russell played some part.”

In time Anne was relieved to hear Charles’ voice.

And following him was Henrietta – but

Now on Charles Hayter’s arm. And Anne observed

Much added charm in Henrietta’s smile.

The autumn colours spread complaisantly

As three distinct groups moved across the field –

With Anne and Mary flanking Charles, each

Upon an arm (except when frequently

Charles waved his stick at nettles in the hedge.)

Crossing the lane and at the opposite stile

The straggling party paused. Approaching them,

A carriage, as it slowed, soon proved to be

The returning Admiral and Mrs Croft.

Mrs Croft cried out immediately,

“Miss Anne, you look quite tired. You must allow us

The pleasure of conveying you to your home.

There is excellent room for three. Indeed if we

Were all like you we comfortably might seat four.”

At first instinctively declining, Anne found

The Crofts would not be easily swayed; she smiled.

And then – again disturbingly – as in

His strong removal of the infant Charles –

She found the Captain had without a word

Assisted her into the waiting carriage.

But all the cheerful way to Uppercross

Anne must endure the friendly Crofts’ debate,

Which of the charming Musgrove girls will Frederick choose?

11 The time approached for Anne to leave her sister

And return to Lady Russell’s, close to Kellynch.

There, since he frequented Uppercross

She might see less, rather than more of him

Who called her coldly from their troubled past.

She thought that she would rather never see

That ghostly Frederick Wentworth at the Hall,

Whose rooms retained such painful memories

And where refusal at the whim of others

Had cast long shadows into every room.

But just before she left her sister’s house,

That Captain, who had been two days away,

Returned, explaining how a letter from his friend,

One Captain Harville, settled now at Lyme,

Had led him there in haste. This long-time friend,

Still unrecovered from a sabre wound,

Had welcomed him, renewing friendship’s bonds.

The warmth of this account, the lure of Lyme

Not twenty miles away, the sea’s great charm,

The sisters’ never having been to Lyme –

Soon led to plans for an excursion there.

Objections from the Musgroves over-ruled,

Plans rapidly advanced. The party was:

Mary and Charles and Henrietta, Anne,

Louisa and Captain Wentworth, the very same

As had most recently climbed Winthrop Hill.

It was agreed that dwindling autumn light

Would mean that they must stay the night in Lyme.

An early breakfast at the Great House; then,

In Mr Musgrove’s coach four ladies; following,

Charles in his curricle with Captain Wentworth.

The charm of Lyme in autumn, its narrow street

In haste to reach the sea, the shuttered rooms,

The eloquent absence of the summer crowds,

The splendours of the Cobb and bay –

All struck them as they reached the view at last.

Accommodation and a meal arranged,

The party set out eagerly to walk.

Anne felt at once the pleasure of release.

While Frederick called on Harville at his house

Within the shadows of an ancient pier,

The others walked on down towards the sea.

When they were joined by Frederick on the Cobb

The Harville family were accompanying

And with them Captain Benwick, a close friend.

This friend had, more than most men, loved and lost

When Fanny, Harville’s sister, passed away,

And Benwick still persisted in her shade.

Anne felt with envious surprise the warmth

And naturalness with which Lyme greeted them:

The Harvilles welcomed her with open arms

And Captain Benwick proved at once to be

A man of generous sensibilities

Who must confide his love of poetry

And in particular (did she not agree?)

The precious legacy of Scott and Byron.

This conversation promised to be long.

To his marked preferences for poetry

Anne added commendations for some prose

And urged that he read certain moralists

– Which names he noted. Time flowed pleasantly.

12 The following day an early morning walk

Found Anne and Henrietta by the sea

Watching the rapid progress of the tide.

While still uncoloured morning light remained,

A second couple met them on the sands:

Louisa, blithe with Captain Wentworth – who,

Anne thought, seemed happily oblivious.

Then at the steps ascending from the beach

A courteous stranger paused to let Anne pass –

And looked intently at her, quite as if

Some secret bond already had been formed.

Perhaps now Captain Wentworth saw this gaze

While glancing there, as if to say, “This man

Is strongly struck by you – and I note too

Some semblance of the former Miss Anne Elliot.”

Then, in a corridor outside her room,

The same man looked at her admiringly;

Again Anne felt fresh curiosity.

At breakfast from the window someone saw

A curricle departing. Mary cried:

“It is the man we saw! I am quite sure.

He was in mourning too. How curious!”

When Captain Wentworth asks, the waiter nods:

“The gentleman is a Mr Elliot,

A man of fortune, here from Sidmouth way

And bound today for Bath, I understand.”

“Bless me!” cried Mary in an ecstasy –

“It must be our cousin Mr Elliot,

Our heir! For he would be in mourning too…”

But Anne was troubled by the paradox:

That Mr Elliot seemed a gentleman,

And most impressive in his bearing, seemed

At odds with the offence from years before,

Felt by her father and Elizabeth –

His strange neglect of them at Kellynch Hall.

But now the cloudless morning offers them

Their final walk in Lyme. They plan to meet

The Harvilles and poor Captain Benwick, who

(As Mary has observed a hundred times)

Appears to have a warm regard for Anne.

Their walk is naturally towards the Cobb –

And is accompanied by the Harville’s praise

For Captain Wentworth’s generosity.

And Captain Benwick seeks out Anne, again

With references to Byron’s ‘dark blue sea’.

But now Louisa, standing on the Cobb,

Is calling out to Frederick just below

That she will leap and be jumped down by him.

Unwillingly – because the ground is hard –

He urges caution, then agrees. She jumps,

Is thrilled and must at once run up the steps

To insist, against all reasoning cries, to jump

And be caught down again. She leaps and falls

And suddenly is lying near the wall.

Lifeless, she was lying near the wall.

There was no wound, no blood, no visible bruise,

And still no signs of life. And Mary screamed,

And screamed, “She is surely dead! She must be dead!”

As Captain Wentworth knelt and taking her –

Louisa – or her shadow – in his arms

And calling, “Will no-one help me?” Henrietta

Fainted, to be held by Anne and Benwick…

Anne replied at once. “Go to him. I

Can manage Henrietta. Here are salts!

For heaven’s sake help him! Go! Rub her hands!”

Next, Charles and Benwick lifted her

And held her hands, as Anne cried, “Find a surgeon!”

Anne found herself required to quieten Mary,

Encourage Charles, calm Captain Wentworth’s fears –

As Benwick hastened for a surgeon. Then

She thought to move Louisa to the inn.

But on their way they met the Harvilles – who

Insisted that the patient be brought home.

The surgeon came. Louisa, still inert,

Had no apparent injury to limbs;

Only her head had been contused. Of course,

The patient must remain and not be moved.

And now the pressing matter must be met:

Someone must go at once to Uppercross

To tell Mr and Mrs Musgrove. Anne

By chance was standing at Louisa’s door

And heard the voice of Captain Wentworth say,

“Musgrove, either you or I must leave

And ride to Uppercross. And Anne must stay –

No-one so right, so capable as Anne.”

Perhaps she did not notice: He said “Anne”

And not “Anne Elliot”, not “Miss Elliot.”

But Mary will not go so quietly.

She has the right, she is Louisa’s sister,

And what is Anne? Is she not just as useful?

(And much more protestations of this kind.)

At length it is resolved in Mary’s favour:

Anne must go. And when the carriage comes

And Wentworth hastens in, he is surprised

To be conveying Anne with Henrietta …

Like fallen leaves disturbed by carriage wheels,

Anxieties rose up and settled back

Repeatedly. Their horses seemed intent

On rapid progress. Anne saw trees and hills,

Remembered from the forward journey, pass

Before they were expected. Dusk grew dark

With sombre shadows, nearing Uppercross.

VOLUME TWO

1 At Uppercross Louisa’s parents grieved.

Next morning Charles arrived with fresh accounts

Where cautious hope was mixed with anxious fears.

And Charles could not speak glowingly enough

About the Harville’s generosity,

And Mrs Harville’s role as zealous nurse.

And, incidentally, Mary was unwell.

Charles Hayter went to Lyme and soon returned

With more encouragement. Louisa’s sense

And intervals of consciousness, it seemed,

Were stronger now with every sombre day.

November gloom surrounded Uppercross

As Anne’s departure neared. At Kellynch Lodge

With Lady Russell she would be once more

Close to the Hall and painful memories.

But hearing Lady Russell’s compliments

On her refreshed complexion – and her form,

She found herself inclined to recollect

Her courteous cousin, Mr Elliot.

For with events at Lyme, Anne had almost

Forgotten Bath. But Lady Russell praised

The suitability of Camden Place

While voicing her regrets that Mrs Clay

Had so persistently attached herself

To both Sir Walter and Elizabeth.

As Anne related the events at Lyme

She felt the strength of Lady Russell’s gaze

At any sound of Captain Wentworth’s name.

And Lady Russell seemed to see confirmed

Her doubts of Captain Wentworth’s probity

In his attachment to Louisa Musgrove.

One morning she spoke gently to her friend:

“Dear Anne, I owe a visit to the Hall,

And wonder: have you the strength to come with me?

It will be quite a trial for both of us.”

Admiral and Mrs Croft were welcoming.

The conversation turned at once to Lyme

And new reports Louisa still improved,

For Captain Wentworth had called yesterday.

He had enquired also of Miss Elliot

Whose help at Lyme had been invaluable.

The Admiral wanted to convey through Anne

His compliments to her father – and to say

That they found Kellynch admirably well

With very little needing serious change

With few exceptions: one, the laundry door!

Which they had now improved quite wondrously.

The Admiral marvelled that the family had

For so long left it opening as it did.

And all those mirrors in the dressing room,

Sir Walter’s most particularly! These had

Been taken down and turned to face the wall.

2 Charles Musgrove and his wife had stayed at Lyme

Far longer than expected. Mary had

Been tolerably well amused: by books,

Excursions, walks, a visit to the church –

The crowd more varied there than Uppercross;

A bathing trip to Charmouth and, while there,

The pleasing recognition of her name

And reference to her father’s eminence.

And all of this augmented by the sense

Of being useful in these dire events.

Louisa was improved but very weak

And quite susceptible to nervous shock.

Anne asked of Captain Benwick. At this ensued

Dispute between Charles Musgrove and his wife

As to that person’s references to Anne.

In Mary’s view he had not said a word.

But Charles recalled: “He often speaks of you

In terms of ‘sweetness’, ‘elegance’ and ‘beauty’ –

(Mary, you must have not been listening.)

He mentions books he reads because of you.”

“Well then,” said Mary, “this is quite remiss,

Since Fanny Harville died not six months past.

And you, dear Lady Russell, would agree.”

“But,” Lady Russell smiled. “I cannot say.

I must meet Captain Benwick to decide;

A friend of Anne’s should be a friend of mine.”

Then Mary spoke of the coincidence

Whereby their cousin Mr Elliot was seen –

But checked her zeal when Lady Russell said,

“I have no time for Mr Elliot,

Who by declining to be cordial

With family and Sir Walter as its head,

Has conjured much disfavour, in my view.”

This was a time of change and interchange:

Louisa still in Lyme, Mary returned,

The Harville children moved to Uppercross,

Charles Hayter back and forth for just as long

As Henrietta was at Louisa’s side.

And Anne heard news of Captain Wentworth’s plans

To visit Plymouth, then to Shropshire where

He hoped to see his brother. Only Anne

Felt pleased to be unchanged at Kellynch Lodge.

Anne next heard from Elizabeth in Bath.

Their cousin, Mr Elliot, had called,

And called again, at Camden Place. He was

Quite courteous and a most agreeable man.

Anne still was not disposed to visit Bath,

Yet more intrigued by Mr Elliot.

But Lady Russell, who had rooms in Bath,

Was, at this news immediately inclined,

Recanting her severe disparagements,

To see this Mr Elliot. She resolved

To go at once to Bath. Anne was conveyed,

Somewhat reluctantly, to Camden Place

While Lady Russell went to Rivers Street.

3 Sir Walter as a man of consequence

Had rented a fine house in Camden Place.

Anne entered it with sinking heart. She feared

A long imprisonment, but was surprised

To find her father and her sister cordial

And glad to see her (having someone new

To whom to show the drapes and furniture.)

And Mrs Clay was almost equally –

If less convincingly – beset with smiles.

All was in excellent spirits. Uppercross

Claimed little interest, Kellynch slightly more;

But soon their questions turned to full accounts

Of Bath and drawing rooms and visitors

And latest styles and dress and porcelain –

And calling cards left by aspiring strangers.

And one more jewel in Bath’s glittering crown

Was Mr Elliot. All had been explained

And soon resolved with such felicity

That several years of mere misapprehension –

For that was all it was – had disappeared.

He never had renounced the family name,

Had ever boasted of the name of Elliot;

Even the circumstances of his marriage

Allowed extenuation. A friend of his,

A Colonel Wallis (most respectable –

Who lived in Marlborough Buildings, and

Had, at his own particular request,

Made their acquaintance) knew the story well.

The wife in question was, it must be said,

Not eminently well connected, but

She was accomplished, rich (although of course

This would have been of little, or no account)

And from the outset had pursued the match.

Anne listened without understanding. Why,

If it were true that Mr Elliot

Were now quite rich – why, after many years

Of severance, should he suddenly return?

She had the sudden notion: could it be

Elizabeth, dismissed so long ago,

Whom now he sees and seeks afresh? Perhaps –

But still Anne felt that there was something strange,

Some secret in this show of courtesy.

She mentioned having seen his face in Lyme;

Elizabeth and her father vaguely heard

But much preferred to talk of him themselves,

The pleasure of appearances – and more,

Their great importance – fuelled a dialogue

In which Sir Walter and Elizabeth

Were loudly seconded by Mrs Clay.

A sudden knock! So late! Quite ten o’clock!

And Mrs Clay cried, “Mr Elliot’s knock,

I’m sure of it!” Sir Walter said, “We knew

He was at Landsdowne Crescent and might call.”

And it was he, the same whom Anne had seen

Except for dress: the mourning suit was gone.

As Anne stood back, the sparkling repartee

And exercises in politeness soared.

At length and with the utmost deference

Sir Walter asked his leave to introduce

His “youngest daughter” (Mary was excised)

At which Anne blushed and Mr Elliot

Betrayed a fleeting startlement to see

She was the woman he had seen in Lyme.

He was the very model of a man

In whom refinement, courtesy and sense

Must counter something close to handsomeness.

He sat with them. They spoke at last of Lyme,

And Mr Elliot voiced his great concern

At all Anne had endured. Had he but known!

Anne was intrigued, perhaps impressed. The hour

Had been more interesting than she might have hoped.

4 At breakfast two dilemmas vied for space.

(Each seemed by turns to trouble Anne the more.)

Did Mr Elliot seek Elizabeth?

Or Mrs Clay her father? Nothing was clear.

Entering, she thought she heard the whispered voice

Of Mrs Clay: “And now that Anne is here,

I feel that I should quit the field,” at which

She heard Elizabeth reassuringly

Say, “Certainly not. I value you too much.”

And then Sir Walter: “Madam, you have seen

So little yet of Bath. You must not leave.”

Her father complimented Anne. “I do believe

You are less thin, your skin greatly improved.

You look decidedly more clear, more fresh –

You have been using Gowlands?” “No, Sir. Nothing.”

“I am surprised. Mrs Clay, on my advice,

Has used it on her freckles – with success,

As, I am sure, you would agree.” (Anne smiled;

She saw no slightest diminution there.)

Anne was quite pleased by Mr Elliot.

They talked of Lyme, both wishing to return,

Of that first passing in the corridor,

Of chance and fortune and coincidence.

Chance also brought Sir Walter stirring news.

The papers told the imminence in Bath

Of the Dowager Viscountess Dalrymple

With the Honourable Miss Carteret, her daughter.

Thus Camden Place was in a heightened state

Of thrilling and sustained anxiety.

For now Sir Walter’s task was to devise

A means of introduction – all the more

Important for Sir Walter’s high prestige

Since the Dowager was distantly related.

From then on Anne heard constantly the cry,

“Our cousins, the Dalrymples, now in Bath…”

Sir Walter wrote a floridly courteous letter

Explaining and expressing his regrets

At past hiatuses with his esteemed,

Most honourable cousin. The family was extolled

And compliments profusely scattered. Soon

The reward arrived: a hasty, generous scrawl

And Camden Place resounded to the cry

“Our cousins, the Dalrymples, Laura Place.”

Anne felt ashamed to see such sycophancy,

And spoke of it to Mr Elliot –

Who disagreed and urged, “the vital role

Which family and connections must all play

To help divert your father from the claims

Of those who are beneath him.” Here he looked

Towards the chair which Mrs Clay had left.

5 Sir Walter and Elizabeth, obsessed

With calling cards and Bath society,

Were much preoccupied. And, meanwhile, Anne

Sought out a former schoolfriend now in Bath –

Society of a very different kind.

Miss Hamilton – now Mrs Smith – had shown

Much kindness in those long, unhappy days

When Anne was grieving at her mother’s death

And, as a girl of fourteen, far from home.

Miss Hamilton, her elder by three years,

Had left school and soon married (Anne had heard)

A man of fortune who regrettably

Was kind, most generous, but extravagant.

Now Mrs Smith, a widow, was quite poor.

Her husband at his death two years before

Had left his estate dreadfully confused.

And also at this time she had acquired

Rheumatic fever which, for now at least,

Had left her crippled, reliant on a nurse.

She lived, therefore, in straitened circumstance

In lodgings near hot baths and much alone.

Anne made her way, with Lady Russell’s help,

To Westgate Buildings. Anne and Mrs Smith,

After initial awkwardness, remarked

The changes those twelve years had brought to them.

Anne was no more the shy, unformed young girl,

But now a woman of beauty, if not bloom;

Miss Hamilton had sadly been transformed

From youthful, well-grown confidence and health

To be a poor, infirm and helpless widow.

Yet Anne found in her former mentor still

Good sense and cheerfulness despite her state.

They talked with pleasure of the lingering past.

A second visit followed. Mrs Smith

Now spoke with greater openness. Anne grew

In admiration and astonishment.

Her friend had loved the husband who had died;

She had no child; she lived in noisy rooms;

She had been used to affluence. It was gone.

Yet sense and optimism had remained.

She had been fortunate in finding rooms;

Her nurse, a Mrs Rooke, was generous

And acted as a conduit to the world –

Conveying gossip and the vital news

From all the great metropolis of Bath.

“Nurse Rooke has just one other charge these days

– A frivolous and silly, pretty soul,

A Mrs Wallis of the Marlborough Buildings –

And so Nurse Rooke is with me frequently.”

Sir Walter was offended and amazed

To hear that Anne, his daughter, had just been

To Westgate Buildings. “Westgate Buildings! Who

Is Miss Anne Elliot to be loitering there?

A widowed Mrs Smith, you say? And who

Is she? Who was her husband? One of several –

A thousand – Mr Smiths! Upon my word,

Anne, you perplex me greatly. How is it

That places of contagion and foul air,

Which other people shun, you must frequent?”

Elizabeth was loud in her disdain

And wondered whether Lady Russell knew

That Miss Anne Elliot was at Westgate Buildings.

Anne replied that she not only knew

But took her there in her own curricle.

Soon even more offence would be perceived:

An invitation from the Lady Dalrymple

To dine at Laura Place fell on the day

When Anne had pledged to visit Mrs Smith,

A promise she could not – would not postpone.

Sir Walter railed once more: “This Mrs Smith –

A woman without family or name…”

This judgement was observed by Mrs Clay

Who at this juncture rose and left the room;

And it occurred to Anne that Mrs Clay

Was not dissimilar to Mrs Smith

In widowhood and name and family,

But out of kindness did not make the point.

So while Sir Walter went to Laura Place

In splendour with his glittering entourage,

His daughter was in Mrs Smith’s dim room.

Meanwhile the impressive Mr Elliot,

So frequently attending Camden Place,

Continued to preoccupy all minds.

While Lady Russell was convinced that soon,

His mourning over, he would marry Anne,

Anne found him charming and intelligent

But somehow still a shade too plausible.

6 The news from Uppercross was sparse, and Anne,

Two months in Bath, felt exiled, far from home.

From Mary’s hasty note she only knew

That Henrietta was at Uppercross,

Louisa still in Lyme – and little more.

And then a more substantial letter came

And, pleasingly, delivered by the Crofts,

Who must be now in Bath. Her father said

There was no need for Admiral Croft to use

The ploy of carrying letters to gain

An introduction. He would soon enough

Have seen him. “After all, he is my tenant.”

Anne read with eagerness and then surprise:

February 1st

My dearest Anne,

I do not make apology

For my silence since I know in Bath

You have so much to see and do.

Our Christmas has been very dull.

No dinner parties at the House.

The Hayters do not count, of course.

At last the holidays have passed.

The Harville children are still here.

I do not think them nice at all,

Though Mrs Musgrove likes them more

Than any grandchild of her own.

What dreadful weather we have had.

No-one has called, except of course,

Charles Hayter; he seems always here.

The carriage has been sent today

To bring Louisa back at last.

How long it is since Mrs Clay

Attached herself to all at Bath!

When does she ever mean to leave?

And, if she did go, I suppose

That I would not be asked to Bath?

Do tell me what you think of this.

I have been told the Crofts have left

For Bath. They never visit here.

Charles heard this news. It shows in them

Gross inattention. Charles sends love.

Affectionately,

Mary M.

PS. I have been far from well.

The butcher says apparently

There is a sore throat much about.

I dare say I shall catch it. And,

As you well know, sore throats in me

Are worse than in anybody else.

But there was more, another added sheet.

I had a note from Mrs Croft

Most kindly offering to convey

Whatever I might send to you.

– A friendly note addressed to me,

Just as it ought. The Admiral

Does not seem very ill, and Bath

Will do him good. I shall be glad

To have them back near us again.

But to Louisa: here is news

Which will, I am sure, astonish you:

Louisa is to marry – Yes!

But not to whom we all supposed,

But Captain Benwick! And we all thought

That he was set on marrying you!

Mrs Harville agrees with me –

We love Louisa all the more

For having nursed her for so long.

So exhilarating was this news, she feared

She could not answer questions. Fortunately

Her father and Elizabeth had few.

How many carriage horses had the Crofts?

And did they have acquaintances in Bath?

And how was Mary? (though Elizabeth

Seemed not to wait for answers.) Their concern

Reverted to the Lady Dalrymple.

Anne was amazed. Louisa and Captain Benwick?

This was too wonderful to comprehend.

In her own room Anne thought of nothing else

But these events. Had Captain Wentworth known

His friend had won Louisa’s heart? And were

These former friends divided by the match?

Had Captain Wentworth given up and gone?

She felt an overwhelming, senseless joy.

The following week saw Anne, elated still –

– Still curious about these strange events,

Engaged with Lady Russell. She found herself

Hoping to see the Crofts, whom she admired.

One afternoon, on leaving Laura Place,

While crossing Milsom Street to Camden Place

She chanced on Admiral Croft standing alone

In front of some preposterous nautical scene

(Or so he thought) in the window of a shop.

Anne was delighted then to take his arm

And walk with him until their ways must part.

He said he had some news he must divulge –

But first Anne must hear naval rigmarole

With much preliminary speculation. Then

At last he gave the news of Captain Benwick.

“You know James Benwick?” Anne said, “Yes. I do.

We are a little acquainted. And I believe

He is a man of excellent character.”

“A little too piano for my taste,

But still, a man of character, to be sure.”

And finally before their paths diverged,

Anne ascertained that there was no ill-will

Between the friends who well may have been rivals.

7 The very day that Anne met Admiral Croft

Found Frederick Wentworth setting out for Bath.

When Anne next walked she saw him in the street.

Again in Milsom Street – with Mr Elliot,

Elizabeth and primping Mrs Clay –

Anne looked out everywhere for him. But then

It soon began to rain, sufficiently

To make Elizabeth decide to seek

To ride in Lady Dalrymple’s carriage – which

Was standing ready quite close by. The ladies

Sheltered in a store while Mr Elliot

Set off to make enquiries of the groom.

When he returned it was resolved. The barouche

Had room for two. Elizabeth must be one;

Debate ensued to fill the second place.

Who should or should not walk with Mr Elliot

Turned on the vulnerability of boots.

Anne’s were most sound, but Mrs Clay thought hers

More waterproof. Then Mr Elliot

Passed judgement. Anne’s boots were of stouter stuff

And Mrs Clay would travel in the carriage.

Anne thought herself quite pleased to walk and talk

With Mr Elliot in the shimmering rain.

He saw Elizabeth and Mrs Clay

Securely to the carriage then returned.

While he was gone, Anne, looking from the door,

Saw Captain Wentworth. Suddenly she thought

To see if it was raining still outside

– And felt at once her own absurdity.

But as she paused, she was surprised, confused,

Disturbed, as Captain Wentworth stepped indoors.

As Frederick Wentworth entered, he appeared

As startled as was she at seeing him,

And for the first time since they had met again,

More prey to sensibility than she.

She felt delight and agitation, pain –

He spoke to her, broke off, then turned away.

She saw embarrassment, not coldness. Time –

Or else Louise – had affected him.

They spoke of Lyme, of Uppercross, of Bath.

The rain outside was light, yet luminous.

She told him how Elizabeth had gone

With Mrs Clay by carriage; she would walk.

“But in the rain! I am prepared for Bath – ”

And Captain Wentworth offered his umbrella.

Just as their awkwardness seemed to dissolve

In a benign and sunlit showering rain,

Her cousin, Mr Elliot, returned.

He came with eagerness, apologised,

Was most solicitous, his main concern

That they set out before the rain increased.

They then walked off, with no more time to speak

To Captain Wentworth than to say in haste

“Good morning to you”, as she disappeared.

He watched as Anne took Mr Elliot’s arm.

Though nothing could exceed his courtesies

Anne would have much preferred him to desist

And be silent all the way to Camden Place.

She scarcely understood a word he said,

Although she recognised that Mrs Clay

Was censured, Lady Russell praised, and Bath

With its superior persons much admired.

She thought of Captain Wentworth at each step.

For several days she did not see him. Then

From Lady Russell’s carriage he was seen

(But not by Lady Russell, it appeared).

Anne feared her friend’s opinion of him still.

8 A concert in the constellation of

The dazzling Lady Dalrymple approached.

Her protégé, her patronage, her presence

Ensured the Elliots were among the first

To take their place. Anne hoped that here she might

See Captain Wentworth. In the octagon room

He entered suddenly. She spoke. He paused,

So that they stood and talked – the weather, Bath.

“I have scarcely seen you since our day in Lyme.

You must, I fear, have suffered from the shock

The more from its not reaching you at first.”

She assured him she was well. He shook his head.

“That frightful day! We shall not soon forget.”

“You were, I think, a good while still in Lyme?”

“About a fortnight. I could scarcely leave

Until Louisa’s health was much restored –

Since all that mischief had been caused by me:

She was headstrong because I was so weak,

I walked and rode. The more I saw of Lyme

The more I liked.” In this they were agreed.

Just then, to cries of “Lady Dalrymple!”

And entrances and crowding in the room,

Sir Walter and a proud Elizabeth

(And, not too far behind them, Mrs Clay)

Pressed forward. Mr Elliot advanced

And Anne and Captain Wentworth were divided.

But even so she felt such happiness,

Which still persisted as she queued behind

The Viscountess Dalrymple’s spacious back.

She did not see the salon’s brilliant lights;

Her happiness was secret and within.

She held this last hour like an offering;

There had been so much in his gravity,

His tone of voice, his look, his openness:

She heard Louisa Musgrove generously

Dismissed, and Captain Benwick roundly praised.

Her thoughts ran on ahead to fragrant groves:

There had been gentleness and urgency,

And what was this if not the fresh return

Of that past tenderness? Surely he loved.

Yet when they took their seats she looked about

And could not see him. Mr Elliot

Had managed to be seated at her side.

The music was delightful to Anne now

And when one song was in Italian

She rendered it for Mr Elliot

In English. He was flattering. He said,

“Amongst your notable accomplishments

Are many which perhaps you do not know

I am aware of. And in fact, you see,

Before you came to Bath, long years ago,

I had already heard high praise of you.”

This revelation, meant to mystify,

Succeeded. Anne was curious. But he

Would say no more except, most earnestly,

“The name Anne Elliot long has held for me

Much interest and, if I might dare, I would

Wish fervently that it might never change.”

Anne wished she might be free of Mr Elliot;

She looked for Captain Wentworth, then she saw

Him standing in a distant group of men

In conversation, turned away from her.

An interval most opportunely now

Freed her of Mr Elliot for a time.

Anne had remained while others went for tea;

And then she saw the hesitant advance

Of Captain Wentworth, seemingly uncertain,

Hanging back, and then approaching her.

She felt something was wrong. They spoke at last:

He said he felt the music disappointing;

He would be quite relieved to see it end.

But Anne protested – gently, with deference,

And he replied with warmth, and almost smiled.

Then Mr Elliot with familiar ease

Blithely returned and, bowing courteously,

He begged her pardon, “but Miss Carteret

Now needs you for the next Italian song.”

Only a little time was now allowed;

She turned, and was confronted by a cool

And troubled Captain Wentworth. He must leave.

Anne said, “But surely this next song – “ But he:

“Nothing now here is worth my staying for.”

And he was gone. The blow was soft at first –

She recognised the gratifying fact,

His jealousy of Mr Elliot –

But then she felt its heavy weight. How might

These obstacles be ever overcome?

9 The following morning Anne was pleased to leave

To visit Mrs Smith – and doubly so

Because evading Mr Elliot was

Of primary importance to her now.

She felt some admiration of him still,

And yet an unease and suspicion. Had

There been no Captain Wentworth, then perhaps –

But this was not – most thankfully – the case.

At Westgate Buildings Anne gave Mrs Smith

A full description of the concert – who

Was who, who brightest in that galaxy,

Who most absurdly grand. And Mrs Smith,

Despite her situation, seemed to know

The names and character of everyone.

As Anne described the concert, Mrs Smith

Observed the signs of happiness and said,

“I think you were last night with someone who,

In all the world, you find most interesting.”

Anne flushed. She wondered at the prescience,

And how reports of Captain Wentworth could

In all of Bath have reached her here. But then

She heard her friend say, “And is Mr Elliot

Aware of your acquaintance here with me?”

“Mr Elliot! Do you know Mr Elliot?”

“I have been much involved with him. But now

That is long faded. Several years have passed.”

Anne was surprised and cried out, “Had I known,

I would have mentioned you to Mr Elliot.”

“I would like that – because your Mr Elliot

Could be of service to me – if he wished.”

It struck Anne forcefully that Mrs Smith

Had made assumptions which were far from true.

“I would be pleased to help, and speak to him,

But to Mr Elliot as a relative –

No more. For I can say with certainty:

I am not about to marry Mr Elliot –

And I wonder how you could have thought it so.”

“It first occurred to me – as possible,

On hearing how much you were seen with him.

But then Nurse Rooke reported yesterday

That she had heard from Mrs Wallis that

Without a doubt this was the latest news.”

There was a silence. Mrs Smith, it seemed,

Was troubled – questioning what next to say.

“I beg your pardon, dear Miss Elliot

I have been pondering what I ought to tell.

One does not wish to be offensive, or

Make mischief. Yet I believe that I am right

– Now that I see you not attached to him –

To show you Mr Elliot’s true character.

He is a man without a heart or conscience,

Designing, wary and unscrupulous.

He has no concern for others. His soul is black.”

Anne’s obvious astonishment brought a pause,

But then more calmly she went on. “I see

My language startles you. You must allow

For my own injury. Yet facts must speak.

He was the intimate friend of my dear husband

Who trusted him. Their closeness had begun

Before our marriage. I too thought him kind.

In those days Mr Elliot was poor

And my dear Charles greatly assisted him.

My husband was, alas, too generous.”

Anne said, “This is the very period

In Mr Elliot’s life which puzzles me –

His curious treatment of my family,

My father and my sister shunned for years…”

“Ah, yes! I can explain that too. For then

Your ruthless Mr Elliot was intent

To marry into money. (This he did.)

But he suspected that your father was

Convinced Elizabeth should marry him

And he had other far more lucrative plans.

He told me everything. I thought it strange

That it should be your cousin whom I met

Through marrying Charles…” Anne said, “Perhaps you spoke

To him sometimes of me?” “Why, yes. Of course.

I used to boast of my own Anne – and vouch

That you were very different from – ” She checked herself.

“Then that explains something he said last night –

That he had heard of me before we met.”

Anne paused. “But I have interrupted you.”

“These things are cruel, but I must give you proof.”

And asked that Anne reach down an inlaid box

From which she took a letter. Anne felt shame

At once and coloured at its tone. It read:

Dear Smith,

Your kindness empowers me.

At present I have no more need

Being in cash again. Rejoice!

I am rid of that Sir Walter and

His tedious daughter – both returned

To Kellynch whence I am awaited

But I will only visit there

To bring the place under the hammer.

The Baronet is fool enough

To marry again. And if he does

I lose the title and the deeds –

But then, at least, would be left in peace.

Still to be

Yours truly

Wm Elliot.

Anne was dismayed. And Mrs Smith went on:

“Two things quite absolutely dominate

His present plans (this information comes

From Nurse Rooke via Mrs Wallis via

Colonel Wallis, Mr Elliot’s friend.

Now he is rich he wants the baronetcy

And, second, he suspects your Mrs Clay,

A stupid, calculating, pretty woman,

Will manage to entrap your father yet.”

These things seemed shocking – yet did not surprise.

Anne said, “I have distracted you, I fear,

You have not yet explained your husband’s part

In Mr Elliot’s past.” “Poor Charles!” She sighed,

“He was disorganised and generous

And easily influenced. His friend was not

A welcome friend. He led him to excess

And at his death he had lost everything.

One property in the Indies still remained

Which even now might be redeemable

But Mr Elliot, while executor,

Refused to honour Charles on my behalf

And left me languishing in poverty.”

“And yet,” said Anne, “at first you spoke of him

More warmly.” “What was I to do? I thought

From all accounts you were to marry him.”

This possibility seemed frightening now,

The more so since a part of her had been

Impressed, acknowledging his courtesies.

(And might not Lady Russell, admiring too,

Have exercised persuasion once again?)

10 Returning home Anne was relieved to find

That Mr Elliot had already called,

Had stayed and gone – but was to come again

That very evening. Mrs Clay averred

That she had never seen one so intent

To gain an invitation. “And,” she added,

“It is a pleasing wonder to behold

Sir Walter and Mr Elliot so close.”

Elizabeth said, “Yes. Poor Mr Elliot.

He has to visit Thornbery Park, and be

Away from us all day tomorrow – So

I asked him back tonight… He was obliged…”

When Mr Elliot came that evening

Anne exercised more caution than before.

She found his deference to her father odious,

But thought it wise that he not see in her

Such coolness as might lead to some reproach.

Early on Friday morning Anne had planned

To visit Lady Russell with her news

But Mrs Clay was setting out as well

On some philanthropy, so Anne delayed

To see her gone, and then announced her plans.

Elizabeth said, “I have nothing more

To send except my love. Oh, wait! You had best

Return the tiresome book she lent me – and

Pretend I’ve read it. And you need not say

I thought her dress quite hideous at the concert…

That’s all, I think. But, of course, my best love.”

Sir Walter added his felicitations,

And noted Lady Russell should wear rouge.

Next day, loud knocking at the outer door.

Elizabeth cried, “Who could that be? Not

Our cousin, who is at Thornbery Park all day,”

After the usual muffled sounds outside,

Charles and Mary Musgrove were announced.

Their party was, they said at once, all at

The White Hart, at which news Sir Walter waxed

Most welcoming, not having to provide

Accommodation. They were here, it seemed,

For Henrietta’s wedding clothes. The plan

Began with Harville who had business there,

And Mrs Musgrove had a friend in Bath,

While Mary must of course accompany them.

Seating himself, Charles spoke at length to Anne

About his sisters’ marriages. He liked

Both Hayter (though he did not shoot enough)

And Benwick (though he spent too long with books.)

He detailed the expense his father faced.

Their conversation had to be delayed

While Charles was shown about the mirrored rooms

Admiring furniture and porcelain.

Elizabeth invited everyone

To Camden Place – not to a dinner, but

To a smaller, elegant soirée – to meet

The Lady Dalrymple and Miss Carteret

Who by good fortune were engaged already.

The morning was inviting. Elizabeth

Would see them at the White Hart later that day,

While Anne set out to walk directly there

With Charles and Mary, occupied with thoughts

Of the previous autumn and Louisa’s fall.

She found the Musgroves warmly affectionate

And Mrs Musgrove grateful still to her

For all her help in Lyme. Their heartiness

Delighted Anne, so used to artifice.

The White Hart dining room was busy. Crowds

Came in and out, dispersed and met again.

Mary was at the window looking out.

Anne spoke with Mrs Musgrove. Charles came back,

This time with Captain Harville (smiling) and

(More serious) Captain Wentworth. Startled, Anne

At once recalled his leaving suddenly

Under misapprehensions at the concert.

Now he seemed reluctant to converse.

“Why, Anne!” cried Mary. “There is Mrs Clay,

Standing in the street – I am quite sure –

A gentleman with her. I saw them turn

The corner just now. They seem deep in talk.

Good Heavens! It is Mr Elliot!

The man we saw in mourning clothes in Lyme…”

“No,” Anne cried quickly, “Mr Elliot

Left Bath at nine this morning for the day.

It cannot be. Are you quite sure?” At this

She felt that Captain Wentworth looked at her

And she regretted all she had implied.

Mary called back, “Do come, Anne. But make haste

Or you will be too late. Not Mr Elliot?

As if I don’t know Mr Elliot!”

Perhaps to screen her own embarrassment,

Anne joined her sister. Looking out, she saw

Two figures parting. One was Mrs Clay.

The other without doubt was Mr Elliot.

She tried to speak as if uninterested.

“Yes, it is he. Perhaps he changed his hour

Of setting out – or I may not have heard –

I was not so particularly concerned.”

Charles now announced, “Well, mother, you will be pleased

I have secured a box for tomorrow night.

I know you love a play. But Mary cried,

“Tomorrow night we are engaged. You know

My father asked us, most particularly

To meet his cousin Lady Dalrymple

And her daughter – and Mr Elliot.”

“Phoo! Phoo!” said Charles. “An evening party – not

You will note, dinner. So! The play’s the thing!”

Mary and Charles disputed happily.

So Mrs Musgrove said, “Then put it off.

Go back and change it for the following day.

We would be losing Anne as well, for she

Would also have to be at Camden Place.”

While Captain Wentworth still stood close to her,

Anne added gratefully, “For me such parties

Have no interest. I would prefer the play.

But you are right. Perhaps it were best changed.”

She trembled, conscious that her words were heard.

Then Captain Wentworth walked towards the fire

If only to relinquish it and return

To sit with apparent casualness by Anne.

He said, “You have not been in Bath so long

As to have a taste for parties?” “No.” She smiled.

“I do not like to play at cards.” He said,

“You did not formerly, I know. But time

Makes many changes.” Anne sighed. “I have not

Been changed by time” – then stopped at once,

Fearing these words could well be misconstrued.

He paused, then said, as if involuntarily,

“It is a long time. Eight long years – and more.

What might have been constructed out of words,

What edifice, and what might follow, Anne

Was not to know. For Henrietta then,

At this precise and teetering moment, ran

And, gathering them, urged everyone to leave.

This mobilising was no sooner done

Than, with a blazoning flourish, were announced

Sir Walter Elliot and his eldest daughter.

Their visit, brief as it was luminous,

Brought them in their magnificence to bestow

Their calling cards with much beneficence.

Anne saw that Captain Wentworth had received

Along with others the resplendent news

Sir Walter and Miss Elliot will be at home.

Anne caught his eye and saw him turn away

In what she knew was well-disguised disdain.

That afternoon she watched Elizabeth

Assisted – as it were – by Mrs Clay,

In preparations for the sumptuous

And Bath-transfiguring evening party.

She wondered whether Captain Wentworth would

Attend or not. She thought of little else.

Anne said to Mrs Clay, “We were surprised

To see you near the White Hart pump rooms – and

With Mr Elliot,” and thought she seemed

Disturbed or guilty as she improvised:

“Oh yes! Indeed! Imagine my surprise

To meet with Mr Elliot quite by chance.

It had entirely gone out of my head.”

11 Anne still had not acquainted Lady Russell

With Mrs Smith’s account of Mr Elliot.

All this must wait. For she went back again

Next morning to the White Hart. There she found

The Crofts and Mrs Musgrove, Captain Harville –

Talking with Captain Wentworth. Anne sat down,

Regaled at once by Mrs Musgrove, yet

Distracted by an anxious happiness.

Soon after she arrived she heard him say

“We’ll write the letter we were speaking of

Now, Harville – if you find me pen and paper.”

Materials were at hand; he turned away

And at a separate table seemed engrossed.

While Mrs Musgrove seemed intent to fill

The entire room with loudly whispered facts,

Harville was silent; Anne could not avoid

A mass of trivial notes concerning what

Had happened, when and who said what to whom.

All this related to some circumstance

To do with Henrietta’s wedding – and

The opinion – generally agreed upon –

That long engagements often may be found

To turn out – in the long run – to have been

Too long. Anne looked, and saw him writing still.

She heard these intricate contingencies

While still distracted. Looking round the room,

It seemed to her quite suddenly that she

Had been for many years – and secretly –

Herself engaged. And surely this must be

Absurdly obvious to everyone.

With Captain Harville she began a long

And earnest conversation. They were close

To where a serious Captain Wentworth bent

Over the writing table. “Look,” he said,

Unfolding in his hand a miniature

Which faithfully showed Captain Benwick. “This,”

He said, “was done for my poor sister. She

Was destined not to see it. Now I have

The charge of properly setting it for another.

Wentworth is writing now to expedite

The enterprise (and save me some distress.)

The letter is to Captain Benwick… Ah!

Poor Fanny! She would not” (he shed a tear)

“Have quite so readily forgotten him…”

Anne spoke to him with genuine sympathy:

“I can believe it.” Captain Harville sighed.

“It was not in her nature to forget.”

“Nor any woman’s nature who loved well.

Then Harville smiled. “You claim that for your sex?”

“Yes. Certainly. For we do not forget

As soon as you forget us. This is not

Our merit but our fate. We cannot help it;

We live at home, while you are soon abroad.

The world reclaims you, offering endless change.

Responsibilities distract – whereas,

For us there is no check on memory,

No diminution from the world outside

On our affections, which remain unchanged.”

As Captain Harville warmed to this debate

And, smiling, Anne adduced more argument

Asserting woman’s constancy, they heard

A sound. They turned, but it was nothing more

Than that the writer’s pen had fallen. He

Was reaching for it, close to them. How much

Of constancy protested had he heard?

“Is your letter finished?” Captain Harville asked.

“A few lines more. It is quite delicate.

But five more minutes and I shall be done.”

“There is no hurry.” Captain Harville smiled.

“For I am here in excellent anchorage.”

And then, returning to the fray, he said

With feeling, “Ah, Miss Elliot, I would wish

That you knew how a seafarer must feel

At leaving on the shore his wife and children…”

Anne cried, “I do believe I understand.

The privilege I would claim for my own sex

Is that of loving longest even when

All hope for its fulfilment must seem lost.”

Now Mrs Croft called, “Frederick! You appear

Most diligent but we must leave at last

And hope to see you all again tonight

At Camden Place. We had your sister’s card.”

She smiled at Anne in acknowledgement. “And you,

Dear brother, I hope to see you there as well.”

But Frederick still was much engaged, in haste,

Folding a letter, and did not seem to hear.

Then, having sealed the letter, he looked up.

“Yes. True. We part here. Harville, I shall soon

Be following – that is, if you are ready.”

Anne could not understand what happened next.

She had, from Captain Harville, a cordial

“Good morning. And God bless you,” while from him,

The agitated Captain Wentworth, nothing,

And he was gone without a look or word.

And now as suddenly as he had gone

He had returned. He gave apologies,

Said he had left his gloves, retrieved them, and,

His back to Mrs Musgrove and the rest,

Took from beneath the writing table sheets

An envelope which, with entreating eyes,

He gave to Anne – then left as hastily.

The envelope addressed, also in haste,

To Miss A.E. – though scarcely legible

She held; she opened; no-one noticed her.

Her eyes devoured the following words:

I can no longer listen. I must speak to you

By such means as I find to hand. You pierce my soul.

I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not

That I return too late, that such sweet sentiments

Are gone. I offer you myself with that same heart

Which eight long, endless years ago you almost broke.

Dare not believe that man forgets more easily

Than woman. I have loved you constantly since then.

Unjust I may have been, resentful I have been

But never faithless. You alone have brought me here,

For you alone I think and plan. Can you not know?

You drop your voice but I hear everything you say

And now I hear that you, most excellent creature, do

Allow attachment and some constancy in us;

Believe it to be strong and undiminished in

F.W.

A word, a look will be enough to tell me whether

I enter your father’s house this night, or never again.

An overpowering happiness began

To separate itself from shocked surprise.

When Mary, Charles and Henrietta spoke

And broke upon her web of startlement –

She scarcely knew how to reply or how

To seem herself, and soon was judged unwell.

She said she was a little indisposed

And would go home. They thought her very ill.

She wanted to walk through the streets alone

Where almost certainly she felt she must

Encounter Frederick Wentworth everywhere.

But Mrs Musgrove was alarmed. She said

That while she thought at least she could detect

No evidence of a fall, no injury

Apparent to the head, she thought a chair

Should positively be called. But Anne demurred

And asked to be allowed to walk. Then Charles

In real concern agreed to walk with her

And sacrifice his purchase of a gun.

Reluctantly she agreed. They walked until

In Union Street she heard a rapid step

And Captain Wentworth now was at her side.

She felt the silent glow of certainty.

By great good fortune it occurred to Charles

That Captain Wentworth might accompany Anne

Safely to Camden Place. “She’s been unwell –

And I should see my gunsmith who, I hear,

Has just unpacked a double-barrelled gun

A good deal like the one you used at Winthrop.”

When Captain Wentworth pleasantly agreed

Charles left at once. The rest was happiness.

So much and yet so little now remained

To be explained, for they had careless time

– The unimpeded future – for the task.

They would discuss at length and in their time

His jealousy of Mr Elliot,

His pride which led to dangerous romance

With poor Louisa (whom he could not love),

His flight to Shropshire from this tanglement,

His misery, his exile from her voice…

In time they savoured the minutiae

Of then and now, what was, what might have been,

All (as they walked to Camden Place) – all eased

Into the glow of possibility.

How often they would recollect once more

That turning point, her passionate debate

With Harville, overhead through all that crowd,

That glimmering of hope, its widening beam,

Its manifest ignition into flame…

Now reaching Camden Place and happier

Than anyone within could ever know,

Anne passed through preparations for the night

And reached the spacious daylight of her room.

Card parties, once anathema to her,

That evening seemed a source of great delight.

The players ebbed and flowed and reappeared.

Elizabeth was in her element;

Sir Walter beamed and shone, and Mary laughed.

Lady Dalrymple and her daughter smiled,

While Mr Elliot seemed a distant star

Fading at dawn. And all the while Anne knew

That Captain Frederick Wentworth was at hand.

With Lady Russell Anne grew confident

That her persuasion would come readily.

12 After this resolution in delight

What other lasting shadows could remain?

Sir Walter, while indifferent to Anne,

Found Captain Wentworth now sufficiently

Attractive – both in his appearance, and

His personal wealth – to be worthy to stand beside

A foolish, spendthrift baronet.

Elizabeth affected unconcern.

The case of Mr Elliot was more fraught.

In Lady Russell’s view his courtesy

Had so eclipsed her judgement of all else

That Mrs Smith’s disclosures (now conveyed

To her) at first were scarcely credible.

She had envisaged him as Anne’s ideal

(And vindication of her previous

Persuasions touching Captain Wentworth.) But

The revelations soon to come would show

Her much mistaken. Word reached Camden Place

That Mrs Clay had possibly eloped

And was in London with – of all protectors –

Mr Elliot himself. Questions remained.

Had Mrs Clay abandoned all her plans

Of capturing Sir Walter? Had Mr Elliot

Been so unsettled by the loss of Anne

To ease his path towards the baronetcy,

That he had seen the need to neutralise

The cunning Mrs Clay? But in so doing

Might he himself succumb, and Mrs Clay

Become the wife of William Elliot?

And was there hope that Lady Russell might,

As Anne’s misguided friend, in time become

A welcome visitor and be reconciled

With Captain Wentworth mellowed and fulfilled?

Such questions and concerns were minor now,

Mere noises from the wings, while, in the light,

The principals move downstage, arm in arm

And, holding back the curtain, take their bow.