PETER W. GRAHAMPeter W. Graham is Clifford Cutchins Professor of Engli - PDF document

PETER W. GRAHAMPeter W. Graham is Clifford Cutchins Professor of English at Virginia Tech. He is presently at work on a Why Lyme Regis? ersuasion  
 with four principal settings, two rural, one urban,and one neither: Kellynch, Uppercross, Bath, and Lyme Regis. I aim to osome answers to the question ofwhy the fourth is indispensable to PersuasionLymeÕs situation is part, but only part, ofthe answer. A coastal town at thewestern edge ofDorset 17 miles from Uppercross, Lyme Regis is the seasideresort closest to the MusgrovesÕ part ofSomersetshire. Captain WentworthÕsfriends Harville and Benwick currently lodge there, though Austen couldhave located them on any stretch ofthe southern seacoastÑjust as she couldhave situated the Elliot and Musgrove families in many other neighborhoodsor counties. But convenience, seaside location, and friends in fairly easy reachare not the only reasons, and perhaps not even the main ones, for Jane Austento select it as the Uppercross partyÕs destination. A careful look shows thatLyme, much more than a happily located seaport, has rich personal, historical,natural, and cultural associations that allow it to serve AustenÕs purposes invarious ways. LetÕs begin with a short history ofthe town, then consider JaneAustenÕs associations with it, and Þnally look at how it Þgures in PersuasionThe town ofLyme, lying at the mouth ofthe river Lym, occupies someofthe most geologically unstable land in Britain. It was part ofthe manor ofGlastonbury Abbey until 1284, when Edward I acquired it, enfranchised it,and conferred the liberties ofa haven and a borough. Edward used Lyme inhis wars against the French, thus initiating the port townÕs longstanding his- 27 PETER W. GRAHAM Why Lyme Regis? i 28 torical association with naval matters. The appended title ÒRegisÓrecognizesthis royal connection. Lyme RegisÕs natural situation exposes it directly to theopen sea, but it has a harbor thanks to the Cobb, a curving 870-foot jetty andpromenade. Reputed to be the only structure ofits kind in England, the Cobbseems to have been built in medieval times from rows ofoak-tree trunks driv-en as pilings into the sea ßoor, with massive boulders called cowstones andcobbles Þlling the gaps. The name ÒCobbÓmay refer to these stones or mayderive from Òcoble,Óa ßat-bottomed ski. Whatever the etymology, the struc-ture is breathtaking in its wayÑcapable ofevoking descriptions such as thatofthe narrator in John FowlesÕs The French LieutenantÕs Woman: Òquite simplythe most beautiful sea rampart on the south coast ofEngland . . . a superbfragment offolk art. Primitive yet complex, elephantine but delicate; as full ofsubtle curves and volumes as a Henry Moore or a Michelangelo, and pure,clean, salt, a paragon ofmassÓ(9-10).Boats sailed from LymeÕs harbor to meet the Spanish Armada. Itstownspeople tended toward Puritanism after the English Reformation, and in1644 Anti-Royalist Lyme withstood a two-monthsÕ besiegement by PrinceMaurice and the Royalist forces. In 1685, the Duke ofMonmouth landed onthe beach west oftown to launch his ill-fated rebellion against James II, andthe townÕs support ofMonmouth caused it to suer heavily in the ensuingBloody Assizes presided over by Judge Jereys. Afterward Lyme Regis ceasedto be ofhistorical signiÞcance. Its commercial importance faded too, for shipshad become too large for the limited space ofthe artiÞcial harbor. Like manysouthern ports, Lyme became a base for smugglers and Þshermen alike beforethe fashion for seaside resorts began in the eighteenth century. By 1775 sea-bathers drawn by the mild, sunny south coast summers and autumns hadbegun to visit the town, Þrst from Bath, connected to it by a direct coachroute. Bespeaking its spa status, Lyme boasted a bathing machine, invented byRalph Allen and sent down from Bath. But Lyme never became a trendy sea-side resort, as did such south coast towns as Weymouth with its Royal patron-age (Austen readers ofcourse remember it as the site ofJane FairfaxÕs sailingmishap) and Dawlish (where Robert Ferrars fancies building a cottage ornŽeIn AustenÕs day, then, Lyme Regis enjoyed a seasonal ßutter as a minorcoastal resort, oered a congenial spot for stranded naval men to perch inpeacetime or when they were otherwise between ships, and sustained theexpected maritime assortment ofboatbuilders, Þsherfolk, wreckers, andsmugglersÑa mix not unlike PersuasionÕs crowd gathered at the Cobb to helpor hope to see a Òdead young ladyÓand treated to the spectacle ofnot oneunconscious Musgrove miss but two. By the time the Musgrove-Elliot-Went- worth party visited Lyme in November 1814, it had also attained a reputationas a treasure trove offossils on account ofseveral spectacular Þnds in thestrata ofits continually eroding sedimentary seaclis. LymeÕs reputation as asort ofJurassic Park in stone remains to this day. ItÕs the center ofa fossil-richcoastline extending from Exmouth to Bournemouth that has recently beendesignated a UN World Heritage Site. A few miles west ofLyme Regis liesBeer Head, the vanishing point after which the south coastÕs white or whitishchalk, limestone, and shale clis change to red Devon sandstone. DominatingLyme Bay just a bit east ofLyme Regis is the 617-foot hill called Gold Cap,the highest point on the south coast. All around the bay the Blue Lias, soft lay-ers oflimestone and shale falling away into the sea, furnish abundant paleon-tological evidence ofnow-extinct life forms. Due to the softness ofthe stone,the fossils are prone to degrade on being extracted unless treated with resinsor other preservatives, so some ofthe most famous discoveries from earlydays did not remain intact. During the Þrst halfofthe nineteenth century, the most eminent Eng-lish geologists and paleontologists were engaged in literally and metaphori-cally ground-breaking work that often centered on LymeÕs strata and the fos-sils embedded there. Among these naturalists were Oxford UniversityÕsWilliam Buckland, who gave the Þrst name to a dinosaur (the Megalosaurusthe Rev. William Conybeare, whose parish for some years was nearby Axmin-ster and who predicted and described the plesiosaurs; the collector ofsplen-didly complete (ifsometimes dubious) plesiosaur and ichthyosaur skeletonsThomas Hawkins; and DarwinÕs eventual adversary the anatomist RichardOwen, instrumental in the foundation ofthe Natural History Museum inLondon. But the most famous geological Þnds at Lyme fell to a working-classgirl, Mary Anning (1799-1847), who was later famed as Òthe fossil woman,Ópraised as Òthe greatest fossilist the world ever knew,Óand commemorated bya stained glass window placed in LymeÕs church ofSt. Michael the Archangelby the local vicar and the Geological Society ofLondon. Mary was taught tohunt for fossils by her father, a cabinetmaker called Richard Anning, who diedin 1810, leaving a wife and two young children in poverty. With her motherand her brother Joseph, Mary Anning combed the local clis for fossils thatcould be sold as curiosities. Although there is evidence that gentleman col-lectors had been aware ofthe presence ofÒcrocodilesÓbeing found by fossilhunters such as the Annings since at least 1810, MaryÕs celebrity hinges on asomewhat oversimpliÞed story that she discovered the Þrst complete skeletonofan ichthyosaurus, as the so-called ÒcrocodileÓwas ocially named in 1817.The facts ofthis discovery are more complex than is the myth. Joseph Anning 29 PETER W. GRAHAM Why Lyme Regis? 30 apparently located the ichthyosaurus specimen in 1811 at Black Ven, a 150-foot hill east ofLyme and next to the fossiliferous shale and limestone ofs; and Mary found the remainder ofthe skeleton in 1812.Described in Sir Everard HomeÕs ÒSome account ofthe fossil remains ofananimal,Óan illustrated article appearing in the 1814 volume ofthe ical Transactions ofthe Royal Society, this Þnd was the Þrst to come to the atten-tion oflearned circles. Over the next decades at Lyme, fossil-hunting was aßourishing pastime dominated by such local collectors as the Annings, whohad to sell their unearthed discoveries for a living, and the prosperousPhilpott sisters, whose specimens now reside in the Oxford UniversityMuseum and Lyme RegisÕs Philpott Museum. The most distinguished Eng-lish geologists would sometimes join the self-taught yet deeply learned MaryAnning in hunting fossils, and they reported her Þnds (without crediting theÞnder) in naturalist circles. In 1823 Mary Anning discovered the specimenrecognized by Conybeare as the Þrst virtually complete remains ofa ple-siosaurus and purchased by the Duke ofBuckingham. In 1828 she found theÞrst fossil ofa British ßying reptile, described as Pterodactylus macronyxBuckland, who stressed its bizarre nature as Òa monster resembling nothingthat has ever been seen or heard-ofupon earth, excepting the dragons ofromance and heraldryÓ(qtd. in Torrens 266). In 1829 Mary Anning discov-Squaloraja, a fossil Þsh seen as transitional between sharks and rays. In1830 she found Plesiosaurus macrocephalus, named by Buckland in 1836 anddescribed by Richard Owen in 1840. Her growing celebrity and expertise atmining the fossil-rich seascape brought crowds ofcurious amateurs as well asthe big guns ofthe Geological Society to Lyme.Fossil-hunting, or even mere seaside exploring, around Lyme is a ratherrisky business. Fossils are best sought at low spring tides when the sea-cov-ered strata are most extensively exposed, especially after storms when therock layers are likeliest to be scoured ofseaweed and freshly eroded. Footingcan be precarious at the tideline, and turning tides can pose dangers. RichardOwen recorded a near misadventure he, Conybeare, Buckland, and Anningshared at Lyme in 1839: ÒNext day we had a geological excursion with MaryAnning, and had like to have been swamped by the tide. We were cut orounding a point, and had to scramble over the clisÓ(McGowan164). Evenabove the tideline the soft sedimentary clis are prone to crumbleÑsome-times spectacularlyÑwhen saturated by groundwater. The Bucklands, visit-ing Lyme to geologize over Christmas holidays a few months after the nar-row escape Owen chronicled, were on site to witness the great landslide westofLyme Regis in 1839. This catastrophe opened a vast chasm about three- quarters ofa mile long and hundreds offeet deep, sent Þfty acres ofthesliding into the sea, and created a temporary barrier reefofslip-page in Pinhay Bay. It might seem that exploring such shaky ground wouldin Regency times not be thought suitable for genteel young ladies, but thePersuasionnarratorÕs nostalgic and detailed evocation ofLymeÕs environsstrongly suggests that the consistently empirical Jane Austen was no strangerto the charms ofCharmouth, the Undercli, and Pinhay. At any rate we know that the Austens visited Lyme. After the Rev.George Austen relinquished his Hampshire livings and his Steventon par-sonage to his eldest son James and retired with his wife and daughters to Bathin 1800, the Austens vacationed at a number ofseaside resorts in Devon andDorset, Lyme among them. Clare Tomalin observes that they may also havebeen at nearby Charmouth in the summer of1803 (175). We know that theyvisited Lyme in November, for JaneÕs letter of9 October 1808 to Cassandracompares a Þre at Southampton to a notable Lyme Regis conßagration of5November 1803 : ÒThe Flames were considerable, they seemed about as nearto us as those at Lyme, & to reach higherÓ(LettersAustens were at Lyme once again for several weeks in the summer of1804.They shared lodgings with JaneÕs favorite brother Henry and his wife Eliza,though the Henry Austens and Cassandra continued on to Weymouth, justthen also being favored by the Royal FamilyÕs presence. This division oftheparty gave Jane occasion to send a letter dated 14 September detailing her cir-cumstances at Lyme. Ifonly this letter were redolent with unironizedessences ofthe sublime and picturesque, prominent in the Persuasionnarra-torÕs suggestively personal eusions about the sea and landscape at Lyme butunusual elsewhere in Austenworld! But it isnÕt. Instead, the letter oers anunremittingly prosaic account. It informs Cassandra whoÕs in town,announces that Jane and her parents have been to a ball, and states that sheÕswalked on the Cobb with a new female acquaintance, bathed in the sea, andcaught a Òlittle fever and indisposition.ÓIt waspishly reports and reacts tofamily news from their Aunt Leigh PerrotÕs letter. It provides wry descrip-tions ofthe lodgings and the domestic helpÑÒThe servants behave very well& make no diculties, thoÕ nothing certainly can exceed the inconvenience ofces, except the general Dirtiness ofthe House & the furniture & all itÕsInhabitants.ÓIt mocks JaneÕs performance ofdomestic duties in the absence ofresponsible, competent Cassandra: ÒI detect dirt in the Water-decanter as faras I can, and give the Cook physic, which she throws oher stomachÓ(Letters93). Pale prophecies ofPersuasionare perhaps discernible in Aunt Leigh Per-rotÕs deplorable inability to distinguish a frigate from a sloop and in the 31 PETER W. GRAHAM Why Lyme Regis? 32 account ofa Ònew, odd looking Man who had been eyeing me for some time,& at last without any introduction asked me ifI meant to dance againÓ(94).Could this interested male gaze, even ifit issues from a face far from possess-ing the handsomeness ofthe ÒElliot countenance,Óhave provided the germ forMr. ElliotÕs admiring glances, Þrst Þxed on Anne by the sea and then in theinn corridor? Austen imagines her real-life mystery man Òto belong to theble. Barnwalls, who are the son & sonÕs wife ofan Irish ViscountÑbold,queerlooking people, just Þt to be Quality at LymeÓ(94). The Irish peerageand the watering-place snobbery detectable here might make Persuasioners think ofthe ElliotsÕ cousin Viscountess Dalrymple and her daughter, sec-cient to impress Sir Walter and Elizabethand to cut a swathe among the birds ofpassage at Bath. According to family tradition Jane may have met a man much more con-genial than the supposed Mr. Barnwall during this visit to Lyme Regis. Astory Cassandra passed on in later years to her niece Caroline mentionedJaneÕs forming a friendship that showed signs ofbecoming a romantic attach-ment at one ofthe Devonshire resorts they visited. There was talk ofmeet-ing again the following summer; but instead ofa happy reunion, a report ofthe young manÕs death ended the story before it had properly started (Toma-lin 178). One might wonder whether faint, lingering sadness over such a cur-tailed romance could explain some ofPersuasioncholy, could have suggested Captain BenwickÕs loss ofhis young love FannyHarville, and could account for why the narrator suggests that Lyme mustnot just be ÒvisitedÓbut Òvisited againÓfor its worth to be understood.Jane Austen, destined never to return to Lyme in life, revisited it in artwith an intensity that has inspired many other pilgrims. Alfred Lord Ten-nyson visited Lyme primarily for its Austen sites rather than its historicalresonances, maritime climate, or sublime views. According to his son Hal-lamÕs memoir, Tennyson walked 9 miles from Bridport to Lyme on 23 August1867ÑÒled on to Lyme by the description ofthe place in Miss AustenÕs Per-ÓArriving, Tennyson called on his friend Palgrave, and Òrefusing allrefreshment, he said at once, ÔNow take me to the Cobb, and show me the stepsfrom which Louisa Musgrove fell.Õ Palgrave and he then walked to the Under-Ó(Tennyson II, 47).Charles DarwinÕs son Francis similarly became interested in the geog-raphy ofLyme Regis on account ofPersuasionand commemorates his visitthere in an essay collection titled Rustic Sounds. The younger Darwin, his eyeconditioned by AustenÕs Lyme chapters, notices the steep hill sloping down into the village with the hotels at the bottom, thinks it impossible to say atwhich the Musgrove party put up, but hypothesizes, ÒI am inclined to believeit was that on the west side.ÓHe supposes that the house in which the Austensare likely to have lodged is probably Captain HarvilleÕs. His most compellinginterest, however, is in answering the question ofprecisely where LouisaÕsaccident occurred. Here are DarwinÕs words on the matter: There are three separate ßights ofsteps on the Cobb, and thelocal photographer, in the interests oftrade, had to Þx on one ofthem as the scene ofthe jump. I cannot believe that he is right.These steps are too high and too threatening for a girl ofthatperiod to choose with such a purpose, even for Louisa, whosedetermination ofcharacter we know to have been one ofhercharms. Then again, this particular ßight is not (so far as I couldmake out) in the New Cobb, which is where the accident isdescribed as occurring. It is true that at Þrst sight it hardly looksdangerous enough to bring about the sight which delighted theÞshermen ofLyme, namely, a Òdead young lady,Óor rather two, forthe sensitive Mary contributed to the situation by fainting. I am,however, conÞrmed in my beliefby what happened to myself,when I went to view the classic spot. I quite suddenly and inex-plicably fell down. The same thing happened to a friend on thesame spot, and we concluded that in the surprisingly slipperycharacter ofthe surface lies the explanation ofthe accident. It hadnever seemed comprehensible that an active and capable manshould miss so easy a catch as that provided by Louisa. But ifCap-tain Wentworth slipped and fell as she jumped, she would havecome down with him. (Darwin 76-77)A few small inaccuracies or imprecisions aside, the blend ofempirical obser-vation and literary hypothesizing evident in Francis DarwinÕs pilgrimage andin his analysis testiÞes eloquently to how real the presence ofAustenÕs Lymehas become to her readers.Back to Þrmer footing now, and a close look at PersuasionLyme Regis. The excursion from Uppercross lies at the exact center ofthenovel, in the last two chapters, XI and XII, ofthe Þrst volume. AnneÕs feel-ings about her relationship with Wentworth frame the section. Thanks to thesequence ofevents, those feelings change radically from an anxiety to avoidcrossing paths with him at Kellynch Hall (so painfully associated with theirformer attachment and breakup) and to keep him and Lady Russell apart to a 33 PETER W. GRAHAM Why Lyme Regis? 34 comfortable and gratiÞed awareness that he values her friendship and defersto her judgment. The changes in both WentworthÕs attitude and AnneÕs per-ception ofit rise out ofseveral causes associated with the visit to Lyme. Notes ofintemperance surround the excursion from its very inception.ÒThe young people were wild to see Lyme,Ósays the narrator. ÒThe Þrst heed-less scheme had been to go in the morning and return at nightÓ(94). Theenthusiasm for accompanying Wentworth back to the town where his friendsthe Harvilles are lodged begins with Louisa, Òthe most eager ofthe eager,Óbutspreads to the whole younger generation at Uppercross: Charles, Mary, Anne,Henrietta, and Louisa are all to go. When the party arrives at the resort Òtoo late in the year for any amuse-ment or varietyÓin its public life, whatÕs left are the charms ofnature and ofprivate society. The narratorÕs description ofthe environment displays a fer-vor for LymeÕs sublime natural features comparable to the Uppercross partyÕspurported wildness to see them:[A] very strange stranger it must be, who does not see charms inthe immediate environs ofLyme, to make him wish to know it bet-ter. The scenes in its neighbourhood, Charmouth, with its highgrounds and extensive sweeps ofcountry, and still more its sweetretired bay, backed by dark clis, where fragments oflow rockamong the sands make it the happiest spot for watching the ßowofthe tide, for sitting in unwearied contemplation;Ñand thewoody varieties ofthe cheerful village ofUp Lyme, and, above, all,Pinny, with its green chasms between romantic rocks, where thescattered forest trees and orchards ofluxuriant growth declarethat many a generation must have passed away since the Þrst par-ofthe cliprepared the ground for such a state,where a scene so wonderful and lovely is exhibited, as may morethan equal any ofthe resembling scenes ofthe far-famed Isle ofWight: these places must be visited, and visited again, to make theworth ofLyme understood. (95-96)Readers would have to look to the likes ofThomas Hardy for so loving anappreciation ofsouth-coast nature rather than cultureÑand certainly Austenthe novelist, who generally like Mary Crawford seems to Þnd nature moreworth noticing when itÕs the backdrop for human nature, never displays quiteso antisocial an aesthetic.Who ofthe Uppercross party is worthy ofsavoring these sublime andbeautiful views? We donÕt Þnd out, for the group is soon at the shore where,after Òlingering only, as all must linger and gaze on a Þrst return to the sea, who ever deserve to look on it at allÓ(96), they turn their steps to theHarvillesÕ small house near the foot ofan old pier. The chapterÕs recurrentmotifofrevisiting here modulates out ofthe melancholy key associated withit at the start ofthe chapter, when Anne so feared encountering Wentworthat Kellynch, and becomes a more optimistic, almost Wordsworthian way ofseeing that allows place to serve as a sustaining palimpsest ofpast and pres-ent. Similarly, the motifofparted lovers here takes a new form with the entryofCaptain Benwick, still mourning the loss ofFanny Harville yet seen byAnne as ÒÔyounger in feeling ifnot in fact. . . . He will rally again, and be happywith anotherÕÓ(97). The implications that she wonÕt rally and that she wouldnot entertain another are shortly to be challenged. Next to enter the scene are the amiable Harvilles, the wife Òa degree lesspolished than her husband,Óthough both have Òthe same good feelingsÓ(97).From the HarvillesÕ example Anne Þnds that, contra Lady RussellÕs opinion,a marriage need not involve social equals to be a good one. When the Upper-cross party is invited to the HarvillesÕ modest dwelling, Anne discerns bothan unpretentious ease and a domesticity unlike anything sheÕs known at Kel-lynch. The Òdegree ofhospitality so uncommon, so unlike the usual style ofgive-and-take invitations, and dinners offormality and displayÓand the Òinge-nious contrivances and nice arrangementsÓCaptain Harville has fashioned toÒturn the actual space to the best possible accountÓgive Anne a rosy pictureindeed ofmarried life in naval circles. ÒÔThese would have been all my friends,Õwas her thoughtÓ(98). That thought is voiced in exaggerated form by Louisa,her companion on the walk back to the inn, who Òburst forth into raptures ofadmiration and delight on the character ofthe navyÑtheir friendliness, theirbrotherliness, their openness, their uprightness; protesting that she was con-vinced ofsailors having more worth and warmth than any other set ofmenin England; that they only knew how to live, and they only deserved to berespected and lovedÓ(99). Anne might not have LouisaÕs tendency to declareher sentiments in sweeping superlatives and absolutes, but she does share thesentiments themselves. Thrown into contact with Captain Wentworth on histurf(or should we say quarterdeck?) rather than her fatherÕs, Anne nowthinks herselfgrowing accustomed to being in her former ÞanceÕs companywithout confusion. But her evening is spent mostly with Captain Benwick,and principally devoted to discussing the Romantic poetry ofScott and Byronthat they both admire, and for some ofthe same reasons. Benwick Òshewedhimselfso intimately acquainted with all the tenderest songs ofthe one poet,and all the impassioned descriptions ofhopeless agony ofthe other; herepeated, with such tremulous feeling, the various lines which imaged a bro- 35 PETER W. GRAHAM Why Lyme Regis? 36 ken heart, or a mind destroyed by wretchedness, and looked so entirely as ifhe meant to be understood, that she ventured to hope that he did not alwaysread only poetry . . .Ó(100). As was the case on listening to Louisa shortlybefore, Anne Þnds herselfhearing her own feelings expressed in an untem-pered form. Her corrective prescription ofmorally edifying prose may be apt,but she ends the chapter fearing Òthat, like many other great moralists andpreachers, she had been eloquent on a point in which her own conduct wouldill bear examinationÓ(101). That Anne can sympathetically recognize herown melancholy failing in Benwick and then be amused at the likeness as wellas at the gap between her advice and her own practice yet again shows that,despite the hypothetical charms ofmight-have-been, she is closer than beforeto abandoning the backward glance.early morning walk by the breezy seasideÑassisted, perhaps, by the corre-spondent breeze stirred in her heart and memory the night beforeÑhasAnne Òlooking remarkably well; her very regular, very pretty features, havingthe bloom and freshness ofyouth restored by the Þne wind which had beenblowing on her complexion, and by the animation ofeye which it had also pro-ducedÓ(104). This re-Anne-imation attracts a look ofÒearnest admirationÓfrom the passing gentleman who later turns out to be Mr. Elliot. His attrac-tion spurs Captain Wentworth, just ahead partnering Louisa, to look backand, in his turn, to appreciate. ÒHe gave her a momentary glance,Ña glanceofbrightness, which seemed to say, ÔThat man is struck with you,Ñand evenI, at this moment, see something like Anne Elliot againÕÓ(104). The unknowngentleman has a second run-in with Anne as they nearly collide in the hall-way ofthe inn; and this time it is further evident that he has exceedingly goodmanners and an agreeable person, enough to make Anne feel Òthat she shouldlike to know who he wasÓ(105). She learns directly, for the gentlemanÕs cur-ricle is departing and a waiter is at hand to say to whom the equipage belongs:ÒÔa Mr. Elliot; a gentleman oflarge fortune . . . in his way to Bath and Lon-donÕÓ(105). This information, MaryÕs snobbishly fussy reaction to it, andAnneÕs Òsecret gratiÞcation to herselfto have seen her cousinÓ(106) lay thegroundwork for one ofthe subsequent misconceptions that will teasinglydelay the novelÕs romantic denouement: WentworthÕs beliefthat Anne recip-rocates Mr. ElliotÕs regard. But her enhanced appreciation ofWentworthhimselfis the next thing the morningÕs events promote, for with the arrivalofCaptain Benwick, still Òa young mourner,ÓCaptain Harville is impelled todescribe how attentive Wentworth had been to the freshly bereaved Benwick: on the LaconiaÕs arrival at Plymouth Wentworth ÒÔwrote up for a leave ofabsence, but without waiting the return, travelled night and day till he got toPortsmouth, rowed oto the Grappler that instant, and never left the poorfellow for a week; thatÕs what he did, and nobody else could have saved poorJames. You may think, Miss Elliot, whether he is dear to us!ÕÓ(108).Directly afterward, Anne sees WentworthÕs grace under pressure atÞrst hand and he sees hers, as what Maggie Lane has termed Òthe most dra-matic incident in the whole ofJane AustenÕs writing outside her childhoodburlesquesÓ(105) unfolds. The party is making a farewell visit to the Cobb,too windy up top for the ladies to Þnd agreeable. All pass quietly and carefullydown the steep steps that may or may not have been the stair that locals callÒGrannyÕs TeethÓ: all except Louisa.[S]he must be jumped down them by Captain Wentworth. In alltheir walks, he had had to jump her from the stiles; the sensationwas delightful to her. The hardness ofthe pavement for her feet,made him less willing upon the present occasion; he did it, how-ever; she was safely down, and instantly, to shew her enjoyment,ran up the steps to be jumped down again. He advised her againstit, thought the jar too great; but no, he reasoned and talked in vain;she smiled and said ÒI am determined I will:Óhe put out his hands;she was too precipitate by halfa second, she fell on the pavementon the Lower Cobb, and was taken up lifeless! (109)The horror ofthat moment takes diverse forms: MaryÕs scream andswoon into CharlesÕs arms, HenriettaÕs faint, intercepted by Benwick andAnne, WentworthÕs despairing ÒÔIs there no one to help me?ÕÓas he supportsthe unconscious Louisa. Anne, the Þrst to regain practical sense, instructsBenwick: ÒÔGo to him, go to him. . . . Rub her hands, rub her temples; here aresalts;Ñtake them, take themÕÓ(110). When these preliminary measures haveect, WentworthÕs reaction is bitter emotional agony, capped and cur-tailed by sound practical sense from Anne:ÒOh God! Her father and mother!ÓÒA surgeon!Ósaid Anne.He caught the word; it seemed to rouse him at once, and say-ing only ÒTrue, true, a surgeon this instant,Ówas darting awaywhen Anne eagerly suggested, ÒCaptain Benwick, would not it be better ofCaptain Ben-wick? He knows where a surgeon is to be found.ÓEvery one capable ofthinking felt the advantage ofthe idea. 37 PETER W. GRAHAM Why Lyme Regis? 38 The Òcompletely rationalÓmembers ofthe party left behind are Wentworth,Charles Musgrove, and Anne. Ofthe three, sheÕs the one who takes charge:ÒAnne, attending with all the strength and zeal, and thought, which instinctsupplied, to Henrietta, still tried, at intervals, to suggest comfort to the oth-ers, tried to quiet Mary, to animate Charles, to assuage the feelings ofCaptainWentworth. Both seemed to look to her for directionsÓ(111). ÒStrength, zeal,and thoughtÓ: three virtues Wentworth, disappointed back in the day whenhis young ÞancŽe yielded to Lady RussellÕs persuasion, would not in timessince have ascribed to an older Anne.The Harvilles, alerted to the emergency by seeing Captain Benwickrushing past their house, arrive on the scene and add to the party ofthe sen-sible and useful. A look between husband and wife determines whatÕs to bedoneÑLouisa must be moved into their own house and tended by Mrs.Harville, herselfan experienced nurse, and her competent nursery maid. Therest ofthe chapter displays Wentworth and Anne as a capable couple like theHarvilles, briskly settling things between themselves, though not without theintrusion ofpowerful, unrelated feelings. Wentworth says,ÒIfone stays to assist Mrs. Harville, I think it need be onlyone.ÑMrs. Charles Musgrove will, ofcourse, wish to get back toher children; but, ifAnne will stay, no one so proper, so capable asShe paused a moment to recover from the emotion ofhear-ing herselfso spoken of. (114)Anne must recover from two things: the complimentÑa mode ofaddress largely unfamiliar to herÑand the Þrst-name intimacy into whichWentworth, in the warmth ofthe moment, has relapsed. She rightly sensesthat he has forgiven her in his heart. ÒÔYou will stay, I am sure; you will stayand nurse her;Õ cried he, turning to her and speaking with a glow, and yet agentleness, which seemed almost restoring the past. She coloured deeply . . . ÓIn the hands ofa less resourceful and more conventional spinner ofromances, this would be the moment ofrapprochement. But Austen hasanother full volume offrustrations to lay before her star-crossed lovers, andsome ofthese now intervene. MaryÕs ill-judging, aggrieved sense ofconse-quence makes her clamor to stay behind with Charles and instead have Anneaccompany Henrietta home to Uppercross in WentworthÕs carriage. Went-worthÕs Òevident surprise and vexation, at the substitution ofone sister for the other,ÓmortiÞes Anne, who thinks he values her Òonly as she could be usefulto Louisa,Óbelieves he suspects her oftrying to evade nursing duties, andassumes that his bitter laments ofregret bespeak a loverÕs regard for thecomatose girl (115-16). But their last moment together approaching Upper-cross, as he prepares to return Henrietta to her parents, restores the mutualrespect and like-mindedness that had earlier united them and that character-izes the HarvillesÕ interaction.ÒI have been considering what we had best do. She must notappear at Þrst. She could not stand it. I have been thinkingwhether you had not better remain in the carriage with her, whileI go in and break it to Mr. and Mrs. Musgrove. Do you think thisa good plan?ÓShe did: he was satisÞed, and said no more. But the remem-brance ofthe appeal remained a pleasure to herÑas a proofoffriendship, and ofdeference for her judgment, a great pleasure;and when it became a sort ofparting proof, its value did not lessen.So why Lyme Regis? As Austen depicts it in Persuasion, the town ofLyme is as dierent from a workaday seaport such as Portsmouth in Parkas it is from a new-built holiday town such as her imaginary Sanditon.Despite localsÕ curiosity about the better-born who are passing through,AustenÕs Lyme out ofseason lacks the class- consciousness ofBath or ofthetenant villages surrounding estates like Kellynch or even Uppercross. It is asetting suited to the unpretentious amiability ofWentworthÕs fellow ocers,a place where Anne can escape from the hierarchies that constrain her inland,whether sheÕs at home or awayÑwhere the idea ofromance across classes canbe entertained. IfAnne can see Wentworth at his best among his peers, thefriends who would have been hers had she married him, he can see her at herbest in the emergency that calls forth her nerve, zeal, and thoughtÑqualitiesdamped down or repressed in her daily round ofcountry life as visiting spin-ster sister or trapped-at-home younger daughter.Lyme Regis as rendered by Austen oers a remarkable Þt between exte-rior and interior worlds, nature and human nature, geology and sociology.LymeÕs vistas inspire transports ofsensibility just as its bracing air invigo-rates the body; but nowhere else in the Austen canon have the rewards ofbal-ance been so concisely demonstrated and the perils ofimbalance so dramati-cally and literally punished as on the Cobb. The sea breezes Anne enjoys therebring some color back to a complexion faded by eight years oflonely, clois- 39 PETER W. GRAHAM Why Lyme Regis? 40 tered penance, the consequence ofyielding to a perspective too heavy on LadyRussellÕs sense. In contrast, the stone steps ogrove a temptation, a fall, and an ensuing concussion, unconsciousness froma blow to the head being an ironically suitable fate for her excessive sensibil-ity and resistance to persuasion. Louisa, knocked out by her willful and pas-sionate loverÕs leap, may be AustenÕs poster-child ofsenselessness. Leave it toAnne to chart a fair course between the extremes ofsense and sensibility.Accustomed to moral discipline, she recovers animal vitality at Lyme. Its sub-limity is the background to her reanimated beauty. Its eroding clis, packedwith the remnants oflong-extinct species, point her seaward. Lyme preparesAnne eventually to turn her back on those dying dinosaurs among whomsheÕs lived, the landed Elliots, and to cast her lot with the ascendant meritoc-racy ofthe British navy, the captains whose ships rule the waves wherepleisiosaurs and ichthyosaurs once swam. 

, Jane AustenÕs Letters.Deirdre Le Faye. Oxford: OUP, 1995.Persuasion. Ed. R. W. Chapman.3rd ed. Oxford: OUP, 1990.
-JaneAusten and Lyme RegisSpottiswode and Co., 1946.  Rustic Sounds. Freeport,New York: Books for Libraries, 1969 (rpt.).
The French LieutenantÕsWoman. Boston: Little, Brown, and Co.,A Short History ofLyme RegisBoston: Little, Brown, and Co., 1982.
the fossil remains ofan animal . . . ,ÓPhilosophical Transactions ofthe Royal (1814), 571-77, and plates 17-20. 
Jane AustenÕs England. London: Robert Hale, 1986.

. ÒHunting forsnarkes at Lyme Regis.ÓTemple Bar 
The DragonSeekers. Cambridge, MA: Perseus Publishing, 2001. 
  Austen and Lyme.ÓThe Grove
 Alfred LordTennyson: A Memoir by His Son
Jane Austen: A Life. NewYork: Knopf, 1997.. ÒMary Anning (1799-1847) ofLyme; Ôthe greatest fossilist theworld ever knew.ÕÓBritish Journal for theHistory ofScience