Ten. Persuasion
Ten
Persuasion
The Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court
June 9, 1865
“This is a tale of the sea,” pronounced Chief Justice Adam Fulbright at the start of that month’s discussion group. “Its dangers, its beckoning, its caliber of men. Austen had two sailor brothers, after all.”
The associate justices nodded in surprisingly ready agreement. They each held a different copy of Persuasion in their laps: imported British editions which included Northanger Abbey ; Richard Bentley’s more affordable Standard Novel series from 1833; the pirated Philadelphia edition of that same year from Carey & Lea.
“What I find fascinating is the note from her brother Henry, inserted at the start.” Justice Ezekiel Peabody always focused in court on the one thing that no one else was. “We know so little about her methods, yet surely we can all agree that there is such fineness—a precise selection of word—a delineation as razor-sharp as we ourselves aspire to in rendering judicial opinion.”
Peabody opened his volume to read from Henry Austen’s preface to his sister’s final, posthumous work. “‘Though in composition she was equally rapid and correct, yet an invincible distrust of her own judgement induced her to withhold her works from the public, till time and many perusals had satisfied her that the charm of recent composition was dissolved. ’ ”
“‘That the charm of recent composition was dissolved , ’” repeated Justice Thomas Nash. “How true. We each here have our own conceit when it comes to that.”
“Which is why there are seven of us, to flog it out,” Justice Philip Mackenzie reminded the group. “As a genius, Miss Austen had only herself.”
“What I find interesting is the depiction of family in Persuasion ,” observed the chief justice. “The vilest of natural relations for heroine Anne Elliot at home, while the sailors have created such voluntary, steadfast bonds at sea. That is the world Anne chooses to marry into at the end—the very world she was years earlier persuaded by Lady Russell to reject.”
“Who is not as blameless or benign as Anne wants us to believe,” added Nash.
“The narrator distinctly calls Lady Russell ‘good-hearted,’” countered Justice Roderick Norton who, along with Justice Peabody, was the most literal member of the court.
“But isn’t the narrator part of that same world? A gentry voice, susceptible to—and reflecting—its own environment?” suggested Nash. “I would argue that there is a third, supra , voice in the book. Present through its very absence. One that looks down in judgment on it all .”
The other men fell silent, thoughtfully smoking their pipes as they took in the intriguing notion of two invisible narrators, one even more omniscient than the other. The chief justice turned to Justice Stevenson. “William, you are quiet tonight. Are you forming our dissent?”
“Quite the contrary.” Stevenson sat back in his chair. “The dangers at sea are indeed manifold. Look at that last paragraph in the book—‘ the dread of a future war… the tax of quick alarm .’” Just one week ago, Henrietta and Charlotte had come to him with a letter from an esteemed man of the sea and a most troubling request. It was all the beleaguered father could think of since. “My daughters—”
The other men groaned in recognition, except for Justice Nash.
“William, my friend, what is it?” he asked. It was clear from the poor man’s face that Stevenson was not fretting over a novel.
“Henrietta and Charlotte have asked to sail to England.”
Nash downed his wine with a frown. “I hope I didn’t put the idea in their head at dinner.”
“It’s entirely their own. A pilgrimage of sorts, on their own, to visit their favorite authors.”
There was a murmur of both disbelief and envy from the group of men on summer recess. Justice Norton, the most cynical and disbelieving of them all, spoke first. “When you say visit —”
“I mean exactly that, yes.” Stevenson turned back to Nash, who always sat closest to him. “Not just Dickens, of course, although they plan to capitalize on your information there. Oh no, they also wish to pay their respects to Jane Austen’s brother, Admiral Austen, who is to greet them in their first port of call, should they go.”
“How on earth?” exclaimed Justice Mackenzie.
“They’ve apparently been corresponding with the admiral for months. The three appear quite taken with each other.” William rubbed his deeply lined brow in anguish. “My only consolation is that the admiral is ninety-one and a father ten times over himself.”
“William, you can’t let them go without a chaperone.” Justice Peabody looked positively stricken by the possibility.
“I am not sure I can stop them. Henrietta is twenty-six soon, and claims the right to chaperone Charlotte herself.”
“In total disregard of their marital situation?” pressed Norton. “It’s simply not done.”
Nash gently placed a hand on Stevenson’s drooping shoulder. “William, no one’s in a hurry to see your daughters set loose abroad. But such travel is not unheard of, and Henrietta is a most capable older sister.” He hesitated. “Shall I move up my own trip to accompany them? I have the cabin at the lake first, but if you truly felt it necessary…”
William shook his head. “I’m afraid they are insistent on no chaperone as integral to the entire endeavor. They cannot be dissuaded.”
He sighed again while the chief justice passed around the decanter of Madeira. All fathers themselves except for Nash, the justices of the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court had rarely been more in need of it.