GROWTH AND CHANGE
1792-1796
Though it may hardly be likely that the Austens could rival Mrs. Bennet
of _Pride and Prejudice_ by professing to dine with four-and-twenty
families, there was, nevertheless (for a quiet country neighbourhood), a
very fair amount of society to be had around Steventon.
Readers of Jane Austen's letters will come across the names of many
Hampshire neighbours, with occasional indications of the estimate which
she formed of their intellects and characters. Probably there were many
different degrees of refinement in different families; and towards the
bottom of the list must have come the squire of many acres,[51] who, we
are told, inquired of Mr. Austen whether Paris was in France or France
in Paris, and who quoted a speech of the Rector's wife as beginning with
a round oath, saying, when remonstrated with, that it was merely his
'way of telling the story.' When the author of the _Memoir_ expresses
his belief that a century and a half ago the improvement of manners in
most country parishes began with the clergy, he was no doubt thinking of
the more learned minority of that body, who would bring into the depths
of the country something of the enlightenment of a university. To this
minority Jane's father and brother belonged, and thus the family
probably gave to the society around them at least as much culture as
they received from it in return.
In the outer circle of their neighbourhood stood the houses of three
peers--those of Lord Portsmouth at Hurstbourne, Lord Bolton at Hackwood,
and Lord Dorchester at Greywell. The owners of these places now and then
gave balls at home,[52] and could also be relied upon to bring parties
to some of the assemblies at Basingstoke. Hardly less important than
these magnates were the Mildmays of Dogmersfield and the Chutes of The
Vyne. The Mr. Chute of that day was not only one of the two M.P.'s for
the whole county of Hampshire, but was also a well-known and popular
M.F.H., and the husband of an excellent and cultivated wife. Then came
other squires--Portals at Freefolk, Bramstons at Oakley Hall, Jervoises
at Herriard, Harwoods at Deane, Terrys at Dummer, Holders at Ashe
Park--with several clerical families, and other smaller folk.
But there were three houses which meant to the Austen sisters far more
than any of the others. The Miss Biggs[53] of Manydown Park--a
substantial old manor-house owned by their father, Mr. Bigg Wither,
which stands between Steventon and Basingstoke--were especial friends of
Cassandra and Jane. One of these, Elizabeth, became Mrs. Heathcote, and
was the mother of Sir William Heathcote of Hursley Park--a fine
specimen, morally and intellectually, of a country gentleman, and still
remembered by many as Member for Oxford University, and as _sole_ patron
of John Keble. Catherine, another sister, married Southey's uncle, the
Rev. Herbert Hill; and Alethea, who never married, was probably for that
very reason all the more important to the Steventon sisters. One of the
latest of Jane's extant letters is addressed to Alethea.
A still closer friendship united Jane and Cassandra to a family named
Lloyd, who for a short time inhabited their father's second house, the
parsonage at Deane. Mrs. Lloyd had been a Craven--one of the unhappy
daughters of a beautiful and fashionable but utterly neglectful mother,
who left them to shift for themselves and to marry where they could. In
this respect Martha Craven had done better than some of her sisters,
having become the wife of a beneficed clergyman of respectable character
and good position. With him she had led a peaceful life, and, on his
death in January 1789, she spent the first two or three years of a quiet
widowhood at Deane. Her second daughter, Eliza, was then already married
to a first cousin, Fulwar Craven Fowle; but the two others, Martha and
Mary, were still at home. Both became fast friends of Cassandra and
Jane, and both were destined eventually to marry into the Austen family.
For the present, their near neighbourhood came to an end at the
beginning of 1792, when Mrs. Lloyd removed to Ibthorp, eighteen miles
distant from Steventon. It was on the occasion of this removal that
Jane, then just sixteen years old, presented to Mary Lloyd an
interesting specimen of her own needlework--still existing. It is a very
small bag, containing a yet smaller rolled-up housewife furnished with
minikin needles and fine thread. In the housewife is a tiny pocket, and
in the pocket is enclosed a slip of paper, on which, written as with a
crow-quill, are these lines:--
This little bag, I hope, will prove
To be not vainly made;
For should you thread and needles want,
It will afford you aid.
And, as we are about to part,
'Twill serve another end:
For, when you look upon this bag,
You'll recollect your friend. _January 1792._
It is made of a scrap of old-fashioned gingham, and, having been
carefully preserved, it is in as perfect a condition as when it was
first made a hundred and twenty years ago; and shows that the same hand
which painted so exquisitely with the pen could work as delicately with
the needle.[54]
Martha Lloyd also had her dedicatory poem. Some years later, when, it
seems, she wanted to go to Harrogate, and hoped in vain for the escort
of a Mr. Best, Jane presented her with a copy of doggerel--and probably
almost extemporaneous--verses:--
Oh! Mr. Best, you're very bad
And all the world shall know it;
Your base behaviour shall be sung
By me, a tuneful poet.
You used to go to Harrogate
Each summer as it came,
And why, I pray, should you refuse
To go this year the same?
The way's as plain, the road's as smooth,
The posting not increased,
You're scarcely stouter than you were,
Not younger, Sir, at least.
&c., &c.
We must mention one other intimate friendship--that which existed
between the Austens and the Lefroys of Ashe. Mr. Lefroy was Rector of
that parish; and his wife, known within it as 'Madam Lefroy,' was sister
to Sir Egerton Brydges to whom we are indebted for the very early notice
of Jane Austen as a girl which we have already given.
'Mrs. Lefroy was a remarkable person. Her rare endowments of goodness,
talents, graceful person, and engaging manners were sufficient to secure
her a prominent place in any society into which she was thrown; while
her enthusiastic eagerness of disposition rendered her especially
attractive to a clever and lively girl.'[55] How intensely Jane loved
and admired her is shown by some lines which she wrote on December 16,
1808--the anniversary both of her own birth and of the sudden death of
her friend, killed by a fall from her horse in 1804. It has sometimes
been assumed that the self-restraint in expressions of affection to be
found throughout Jane's published writings, and the self-control they
display in matters of emotion, arises from the fact that in the writer's
nature there were no very ardent affections to be restrained, and no
overpowering emotions to be suppressed. These lines show the
baselessness of such an assumption. It was not for the gaze of the
public, but to relieve her own heart, that Jane, at the age of
thirty-three, wrote thus, four years after the death of this elder
friend. Here she dared to speak as she felt, striving in all the warmth
and depth of enduring attachment and admiration to paint a character
which she yet declares to have been 'past her power to praise.' The
verses continue thus:--
But come, fond fancy, thou indulgent power;
Hope is desponding, chill, severe, to thee:
Bless thou this little portion of an hour;
Let me behold her as she used to be.
I see her here with all her smiles benign,
Her looks of eager love, her accents sweet,
That voice and countenance almost divine,
Expression, harmony, alike complete.
Listen! It is not sound alone, 'tis sense,
'Tis genius, taste, and tenderness of soul;
'Tis genuine warmth of heart without pretence,
And purity of mind that crowns the whole.
* * * * *
Can aught enhance such goodness? Yes, to me
Her partial favour from my earliest years
Consummates all: ah! give me but to see
Her smile of love! The vision disappears.
Time was now to bring changes to the Austens. The elder brothers
married. James had a curacy at Overton, and near Overton was Laverstoke
Manor House, now occupied by General and Lady Jane Mathew. James became
engaged to their daughter Anne, five years older than himself. They were
married in March 1792, and started life on an income of L300 (of which
L100 was an allowance made by General Mathew), keeping, it is said, a
small pack of harriers for the husband, and a close carriage for the
wife. James afterwards moved to Deane, where he was his father's curate.
The married life of the couple was but short. Their one child, always
known as Anna, was born in April 1793, and the mother died suddenly in
May 1795, leaving to her daughter only a shadowy recollection of 'a tall
and slender lady dressed in white.' The poor little girl fretted in her
solitude, till her father took the wise step of sending her to Steventon
Rectory to be comforted by her aunts. She was admitted to the
chocolate-carpeted dressing-room, which was now becoming a place of
eager authorship. Anna was a very intelligent, quick-witted child, and,
hearing the original draft of _Pride and Prejudice_ read aloud by its
youthful writer to her sister, she caught up the names of the characters
and repeated them so much downstairs that she had to be checked; for the
composition of the story was still a secret kept from the knowledge of
the elders.
Anna also composed stories herself long before she could write them
down, and preserved a vivid remembrance of her dear Aunt Jane performing
that task for her, and then telling her others of endless adventure and
fun, which were carried on from day to day, or from visit to visit.
Towards the end of 1796 James became engaged to Mary Lloyd, and they
were married early in 1797. The marriage could hardly have happened had
not General Mathew continued, for the sake of Anna, the L100 a year
which he had allowed to his daughter. The event must have been most
welcome to Jane; and Mrs. Austen wrote a very cheerful and friendly
letter to her daughter-in-law elect, expressing the 'most heartfelt
satisfaction at the prospect.' She adds: 'Had the selection been mine,
you, my dear Mary, are the person I should have chosen for James's wife,
Anna's mother and my daughter, being as certain as I can be of anything
in this uncertain world, that you will greatly increase and promote the
happiness of each of the three. . . . I look forward to you as a real
comfort to me in my old age when Cassandra is gone into Shropshire,[56]
and Jane--the Lord knows where. Tell Martha she too shall be my
daughter, she does me honour in the request.' There was an unconscious
prophecy contained in the last words, for Martha became eventually the
second wife of the writer's son Francis.
Edward Austen's marriage had preceded his brother's by a few months. His
kind patrons, the Knights, would be sure to make this easy for him; and
it must have been under their auspices that he married (before the end
of 1791) Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Brook Bridges, and was settled at
Rowling, a small house belonging to the Bridges family, about a mile
away from their seat at Goodnestone. No doubt it was a suitable match;
but it must also have been a marriage of affection, if one may judge
from the happy life which ensued, and from the lovely features of Mrs.
Edward Austen, preserved in the miniature by Cosway.[57] Some of Jane's
earliest extant letters were written from Rowling.
The place was not, however, to be the home of the Edward Austens for
long. Mr. Thomas Knight died in 1794, leaving his large estates to his
widow for her life. Three years later, in 1797, she determined to make
them over, at once, to the adopted son, who was after her death to
become their owner, retaining for herself only an income of L2000. On
learning her intentions, he sent her a most grateful and affectionate
letter,[58] saying that he wrote because he felt himself incapable of
speaking with her on the subject; that it was impossible for him and his
wife to accede to her plan, for they should never be happy at Godmersham
whilst she was living in a smaller and less comfortable house, having
quitted a mansion where he had so often heard her say her whole
happiness was centred. This protest by no means turned Mrs. Knight from
her intentions; on the contrary, she expressed them still more strongly,
and in so charming a spirit that we must quote a considerable part of
her letter:--
Godmersham Park: Friday.
If anything were wanting, my dearest Edward, to
confirm my resolution concerning the plan I
propose executing, your letter would have that
effect; it is impossible for any person to express
their gratitude and affection in terms more
pleasing and gratifying than you have chosen, and
from the bottom of my heart I believe you to be
perfectly sincere when you assure me that your
happiness is best secured by seeing me in the full
enjoyment of everything that can contribute to my
ease and comfort, and that happiness, my dear
Edward, will be yours by acceding to my wishes.
From the time that my partiality for you induced
Mr. Knight to treat you as our adopted child I
have felt for you the tenderness of a mother, and
never have you appeared more deserving of
affection than at this time; to reward your merit,
therefore, and to place you in a situation where
your many excellent qualities will be call'd forth
and render'd useful to the neighbourhood is the
fondest wish of my heart. Many circumstances
attached to large landed possessions, highly
gratifying to a man, are entirely lost on me at
present; but when I see you in enjoyment of them,
I shall, if possible, feel my gratitude to my
beloved husband redoubled, for having placed in my
hands the power of bestowing happiness on one so
very dear to me. If my income had not been
sufficient to enable us both to live in affluence
I should never have proposed this plan, for
nothing would have given me more pain than to have
seen a rigid economy take the place of that
liberality which the poor have always experienced
from the family; but with the income I have
assigned you, I trust, my dear Edward, you will
feel yourself rich. . . . You may assure yourself and
my dear Lizzie, that the pain I shall feel in
quitting this dear place will no longer be
remembered when I see you in possession of it. My
attachment to it can, I think, only cease with my
life; but if I am near enough to be your frequent
daily visitor and within reach of the sight of you
and your boys and Lizzie and her girls, I trust I
shall be as happy, perhaps happier, than I am
now. . . .
Your most sincere friend,
C. K.
Meanwhile, Francis Austen had made a good start in his profession. Going
out to the East Indies, according to the custom of those days as a
'volunteer,' he became a midshipman, but remained one for four years
only. Promotion--'that long thought of, dearly earned, and justly valued
blessing'--was bestowed upon him two years sooner than it fell to the
lot of William Price in _Mansfield Park_, and he became a lieutenant at
the age of seventeen--a sufficient testimony to that steadiness of
character which distinguished him throughout the course of a very long
life. As lieutenant he remained another year in the East Indies, and
then returned to serve on the Home Station. The result of this last move
was that in 1793, rather more than a year after the marriages of James
and Edward, their parents had the delight of welcoming back a son, who,
having quitted them as a boy not yet fifteen years old, reappeared as a
young man and successful officer, of whom his family might be justly
proud.
Other events, grave and gay, were now happening at Steventon. Besides
Eliza de Feuillide, who took refuge there with her young son while the
clouds were gathering round her husband in France, the rectory had
another visitor in the summer of 1792, in Jane Cooper, daughter of Mrs.
Austen's only sister, who came here after her father's death. Dr. Cooper
had set out in June with his son and daughter, and his neighbours, the
Lybbe Powyses, on a tour to the Isle of Wight. The tour had important
results for the young Coopers, as Edward became engaged to Caroline
Lybbe Powys, and his sister to Captain Thomas Williams, R.N., whom she
met at Ryde. Dr. Cooper, whose health had been the chief reason for the
tour, did not long survive his return, dying at Sonning (of which he had
been vicar since 1784) on August 27. The date of his daughter's wedding
was already fixed, but had of course to be postponed. She went
immediately to Steventon, and was married from the Rectory on December
11 of the same year. One happy result of this marriage was to provide an
opening for the naval career of the youngest of the Austens, Charles,
who was three years younger than Jane, and whom we last met in the
nursery. As he was also five years junior to Francis, the latter must
have quitted the Naval Academy some time before his brother entered it.
Charles Austen was one of those happy mortals destined to be loved from
childhood to old age by every one with whom they come in contact. How
great a favourite he was at home is easily to be read between the lines
of his sister's letters; and when he died at the age of seventy-three as
Admiral of the British Fleet in the Burmese waters, one who was with him
wrote that 'his death was a great grief to the whole fleet--I know I
cried bitterly when I found he was dead.' The charming expression of
countenance in the miniatures still existing of this youngest brother
makes such feelings quite comprehensible.
On leaving the Academy he served under his cousin's husband, Captain
Thomas Williams, and was fortunate enough to witness and take part in a
most gallant action when, in June 1796, Captain Williams's frigate, the
_Unicorn_, gave chase to a French frigate, _La Tribune_, and, after a
run of two hundred and ten miles, succeeded in capturing her. To
Charles, at the age of seventeen, this must have been a very exciting
experience; while to Captain Williams it brought the honour of
knighthood.
What with their visitors and their dances, and with a wedding to prepare
for, life must have been gay enough for the Miss Austens during the
autumn of 1792. Cassandra and Jane were now of an age to enjoy as much
dancing as they could get: in fact, if Jane began dancing as early as
she made Lydia Bennet begin, she may already have been going for a year
or two to the monthly assemblies that Basingstoke (like every other town
of any size) boasted of during the winter months.
Unfortunately, we know very little of Jane's personal history from 1792
to 1796. Most of her time would naturally be spent at home; but we catch
an occasional glimpse of her, now dancing at Southampton, now travelling
with Cassandra one hot summer's day from London to stay with her brother
Edward at Rowling (in 1794), now visiting in Gloucestershire.[59]
Early in 1794 came the shock of the execution of the Comte de Feuillide;
and Eliza, widowed and motherless, and with an invalid boy, must have
become more of a serious care to her relations. Over the acquittal of
her benefactor and godfather, Warren Hastings, there was but one feeling
in the family. They all admired him as a high-minded patriot, a warm and
disinterested friend, and a scholar whose approbation was an honour. The
event inspired Henry Austen with more than his usual grandeur of
language. 'Permit me,' he says (writing to Hastings) 'to congratulate my
country and myself as an Englishman; for right dear to every Englishman
must it be to behold the issue of a combat where forms of judicature
threatened to annihilate the essence of justice.'
One event of the deepest interest occurred during this period--namely,
Cassandra's engagement to Thomas Fowle (brother of Eliza Lloyd's
husband), which probably took place in 1795 when she was twenty-three
years old. She had known him from childhood, as he was a pupil at
Steventon Rectory in 1779. Mr. Fowle had taken Orders, and was at this
time Rector of Allington in Wiltshire. An immediate marriage did not
seem prudent, but advancement was hoped for from his kinsman, Lord
Craven; and, as one of the livings in his gift was Ryton in Shropshire,
it must have been to this place that Mrs. Austen alluded as the future
home of Cassandra in the letter to her intended daughter-in-law, Mary
Lloyd. At present, however, Lord Craven could only show his interest in
Mr. Fowle by taking him out with him to the West Indies as chaplain to
his own regiment.
Jane's literary projects were now assuming a more definite shape,
although the process of selection and elimination both in subjects and
method was not yet finished. To this period belongs _Elinor and
Marianne_, a first sketch for _Sense and Sensibility_, but written in
letters. We know that it was read aloud, but no details have come down
to us, and it is difficult to guess between whom the letters can have
passed, for in the novel Elinor and Marianne are never parted, even for
a single day. It seems therefore as if the alterations subsequently made
must have been radical; and the difficulty and labour which such a
complete transformation would involve make the author's unfavourable
judgment on her own earlier method of writing all the stronger. If she
decided against using letters as a vehicle for story-telling in the
future, it seems all the more probable that the only other instance of
her use of this style was at least as early as the date we have now
reached.
The author of the _Memoir_ yielded with reluctance to many solicitations
asking him to include _Lady Susan_ in his second edition;[60] while he
himself agreed with other critics that the work was 'scarcely one on
which a literary reputation could be founded.' As a stage in the
development of the author it has great interest. Strictly speaking, it
is not a story but a study. There is hardly any attempt at a plot, or at
the grouping of various characters; such as exist are kept in the
background, and serve chiefly to bring into bolder relief the one
full-length, highly finished, wholly sinister figure which occupies the
canvas, but which seems, with the completion of the study, to have
disappeared entirely from the mind of its creator. It is equally
remarkable that an inexperienced girl should have had independence and
boldness enough to draw at full length a woman of the type of Lady
Susan, and that, after she had done so, the purity of her imagination
and the delicacy of her taste should have prevented her from ever
repeating the experiment.
But if Jane Austen never again wrote a story in letters, no one was ever
more successful in using them for exhibitions of character. The letters
of Lucy Steele, Mr. Collins, Isabella Thorpe, Lady Bertram, and Mary
Musgrove are all masterpieces of unconscious humour--and some of the
more serious letters are not far behind them.
The extant letters of Jane herself begin in 1796, and will accompany us
through the rest of the story. They are far the most important additions
that can be made to the short history contained in the _Memoir_; and the
little notices which we have given--it may have seemed with needless
particularity--of her relations and neighbours have been given partly in
order to enable the readers of her letters to follow the numerous
personal allusions to be found in them. We must not, however, try to
extract more out of the letters than they will yield. The bulk of them
belong to the collection published by Lord Brabourne, and nearly the
whole of this collection consists of letters from Jane to Cassandra. But
the normal condition of the sisters' lives was to be together--residing
in one house, sleeping in one room. We can therefore only learn from
this source what happened on the comparatively rare occasions when they
were separated. Nor is this all, for a good deal of their
correspondence is missing. Some of it is probably lost by accident; a
great deal was certainly destroyed by Cassandra of set purpose. The
Austens had a great hatred and dread of publicity. Cassandra felt this
with especial force, and the memory of Jane was to her so sacred that to
allow the gaze of strangers to dwell upon the actions or the feelings of
so precious a being would have seemed to her nothing short of
profanation. In her old age she became aware that Jane's fame had not
only survived but increased, and that a time might come when the public
would wish to know more details of her life than had been given in the
short memoir, written by Henry Austen, and prefixed to her posthumous
works. Cassandra would not indeed be likely to think it possible that
the letters themselves should be published,[61] but they might be made
use of as materials, and so she determined to do what must have been a
great sacrifice, and burn all those which were specially dear to
herself, feeling confident that the remainder would not be disturbed.
The destroyed MSS. without doubt included much that would have been of
particular value to the biographer.
We must also remember that the correspondence was between sisters who
knew, each of them, what the other was thinking, and could feel sure
that nothing one might say would be misapprehended by the other; and the
sort of freemasonry which results from such a situation adds to the
difficulty of perfect comprehension by outsiders. Jane, too, was a
mistress of subtle irony: the inveterate playfulness which is constantly
cropping up in her books appears also in her letters. Secure of her
correspondent, she could pass criticisms, impute motives, and imagine
circumstances which would have been very far from her nature had she
thought it possible that any less perfectly informed third person could
see them.
All our authorities agree in describing her as one of the most
considerate and least censorious of mortals. 'She was singularly free,'
says one of her nieces, 'from the habit . . . of looking out for people's
foibles for her own amusement, or the entertainment of her hearers. . . . I
do not suppose she ever in her life said a sharp thing.' We may be sure,
therefore, that when she seems to imply that her mother's ailments were
imaginary, or that Mrs. Knight's generosity to Edward was insignificant,
or that Mrs. Knight herself was about to contract a second marriage, she
is no more serious than when she describes herself as having taken too
much wine, as a hardened flirt, or as a selfish housekeeper ordering
only those things which she herself preferred.
We must therefore take the letters as they are, without expecting to
find any expression of views on such important subjects as religion,
politics, or literature--subjects which might better be discussed in
conversation with Cassandra; and with these limitations in our minds we
shall probably agree with Mr. A. C. Bradley,[62] who does not find the
letters disappointing because 'the Jane Austen who wrote the novels is
in them.'
FOOTNOTES:
[51] _Memoir_, p. 9.
[52] Lady Dorchester gave one in January 1799, not at Greywell, but at
Kempshot, which her husband acquired shortly before the end of the
eighteenth century.
[53] The sisters kept the name Bigg, though father and brother became
Bigg Wither.
[54] _Memoir_, pp. 93, 94.
[55] _Memoir_, p. 54.
[56] See p. 79.
[57] _Chawton Manor and its Owners_, p. 159.
[58] These letters will be found in Mr. W. H. Pollock's _Jane Austen,
her Contemporaries and herself_.
[59] _Brabourne_, vol. ii. p. 341, and vol. i. p. 281. The
Gloucestershire visit was probably to the Fowles at Elkstone. See p.
373.
[60] It was far from being his wish that _Lady Susan_ should form the
title of a separate volume. This work, and _The Watsons_, were to be
printed as an appendix at the end of the _Memoir_. By some mistake,
however, when the second edition appeared, the whole book bore the title
of _Lady Susan_ on its outside cover.
[61] How little she expected them to be published may be gathered from a
sentence written by her niece Anna, at the time of the publication of
the _Memoir_: 'I can fancy what the indignation of Aunt Cassandra would
have been at the mere idea of its [the correspondence] being read and
commented upon by any of us nephews and nieces, little or great.'
[62] _Essays and Studies by Members of the English Association_, vol.
ii. p. 10.