Jane Austen

by Andrew Norman

  I continue tolerably well – much better than anyone could have supposed possible, because I certainly have had considerable fatigue of body as well as anguish of mind for months back; but I really am well, and I hope I am properly grateful to the Almighty for having been so supported.5

  In her will, Jane left everything to her sister Cassandra, apart from a legacy of £50 to her brother Henry, and £50 to Mme Bigeon – Henry’s former housekeeper; the residue of her estate being £561.2s 0d. Martha Lloyd received Jane’s topaz cross which had been given to her by her brother Charles.

  After Jane’s death, her brother Henry, whom she had named as her literary executor, oversaw the publication of Northanger Abbey (previously Susan) and Persuasion, both by John Murray in December 1817 (dated 1818).

  Notes

  1.­ Letter from Cassandra Austen to Fanny Knight, 20 July 1817.

  2.­ Letter from Caroline Austen to James E. Austen-Leigh, 1869(?), National Portrait Gallery, RWC/HH, Folios 8–10, in James E. Austen-Leigh, A Memoir of Jane Austen, p. 187.

  3.­ Ibid.

  4.­ Letter from Cassandra Austen to Fanny Knight, 20 July 1817, in Deirdre Le Faye, Jane Austen’s Letters, CEA/1.

  5.­ Letter from Cassandra Austen to Fanny Knight, 29 July 1817.

  25

  Epilogue

  In many ways, Jane Austen was a woman of the twentieth or twenty-first centuries (rather than of the nineteenth), in that she found a great deal that was archaic and ridiculous about the society in which she found herself: its manners, its customs, its traditions, its prejudices. Equally, this provided a great deal of material for her to satirise and, in doing so, employed all those tools of the satirist’s trade – irony, sarcasm, invective, wit, parody, mockery, humour – as a means for achieving her ends. However, those features of middle-class, nineteenth-century life which she did admire, such as good manners, smartness of appearance and traditional family values of love and friendship (which was the title of one of her books), she embraced wholeheartedly.

  The influence of Jane’s cousin Eliza, which in the past has been underestimated, has been discussed. The similarity of their humour has been remarked upon, and of their style of writing. Also, Eliza encouraged Jane with her French and her music and singing, and taught her manners and social graces. But as already mentioned, there are elements of Eliza’s character with which Jane would certainly not have approved.

  In Northanger Abbey Jane parodies the Gothic novel. In A History of England she parodies the dry, dull, formal historical textbooks of the day. In Persuasion she makes a burlesque of Sir Walter Elliot who, she declares, had never read any book but The Baronetage and to whom vanity was the ‘beginning and end’ of his character. In Pride and Prejudice, through her heroine Elizabeth Bennet, she mocks Mr Darcy for his insufferable pride and for the way he regards Elizabeth and her connections as being inferior.

  The satirist may also be accused of being destructive; critical and dissatisfied with everything that he or she encounters, while at the same time having nothing positive to put in its place. This is certainly not the case with Jane. Her heroines know exactly what they want from their husbands-to-be, and are quite capable of using satire as a weapon in order to make such prospective husbands more amenable and turn them into better people. Elizabeth Bennet used this technique to great effect, both against Darcy’s pride and against his prejudices. Nevertheless, in a society which was deeply class conscious, a certain amount of courage is required from Jane’s heroines if they are to make their voices heard. An example of this is the way Elizabeth Bennet stands up to the opinionated and insufferable Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

  From the words and deeds of Jane’s heroines one may deduce that she, herself, was fiercely egalitarian. She felt strongly that people should be judged on their merits of character, judgement and education, rather than on what their connections were or how many thousand a year was going into their bank accounts. Also, there is a deep, underlying humanity in the novels, for example, in the solicitous way in which Mr Woodhouse shows concern for his daughter Emma, who reciprocates by showing her concern for him. Again, one may deduce that courage and humanity were also a part of Jane’s make-up.

  When a character is found to be wanting, such as Mr Wickham (in Pride and Prejudice), who elopes with Mrs Bennet’s daughter Lydia, Jane does not seek to humiliate and destroy him. There is no spiteful and retributive destruction of the miscreant on the part of Jane the author. Instead, matters are usually resolved in a civilised manner and the offender is allowed to retain some dignity.

  Jane’s ability to see the humorous side of a situation permits the present-day reader to look back at her life and times, and at those of her contemporaries, in the same light-hearted way; rather than judging and, perhaps, condemning them by the standards of today.

  In her early life Jane was dependent on a small allowance made to her by her father George, who himself was obliged to take in pupils in order to supplement his modest income. This, as Jane’s letters indicate, meant that she was always obliged to live frugally. From the time of her father’s death in 1805, Jane’s position became worse in that her family became reliant on the charity of her brothers; in particular Francis, who accommodated them at his home in Southampton, and Edward who found them a home at Chawton. Only latterly did the income from her books provide Jane with what she herself would have described as a ‘modest competence’. How she must have longed for the security, which in happier circumstances, a loving husband of even modest means might have provided.

  Jane, undoubtedly, lived vicariously through her heroines and relished the moment when they could find the right man, marry and live happily ever after. How sad that in her life, despite the fact that she had a number of romances, she was never able to achieve such a state of marital bliss as she effected for the likes of Elizabeth Bennet and Emma Woodhouse. Instead, with her final illness which caused not only pain but disfigurement, she knew that her last chance of happiness had gone. Yet, with her wonderfully creative spirit she carried on writing in the same satirical and witty way that she had always done, this time choosing, in Sanditon, to satirise groups of neurotic people who could produce medical ailments at the drop of a hat.

  The many aspects of Jane’s personality and life continue to intrigue to this day:

  HER STRENGTH OF CHARACTER

  It would be a mistake to think of Jane as a weak and sentimental person. She was well able to stand up for herself as, for instance, when the Austens relocated from Steventon to Bath, and she felt that her siblings were helping themselves to more of their fair share of the family’s possessions. And why should she not have done so? ‘Stoical’ is an epithet which may rightly be applied to Jane, and yet occasionally, the mask slips and she reveals her vulnerabilities as, for example, when she admits to weeping at the departure of her early love, Tom Lefroy.

  HER ABILITY TO FORGIVE

  This was one of Jane’s most remarkable qualities. She demonstrates it not only in her novels, but also in real life, in respect of Mrs Lefroy and also her sister Cassandra. A good example is found in Pride and Prejudice, where Elizabeth Bennet is willing to be reconciled to Wickham even though the latter has previously brought disgrace on the family by eloping with her sister Lydia.

  HER RELATIONSHIP WITH CASSANDRA

  This was not always one of sweetness and light. In her letters Jane harangues her sister for failing, in her eyes, to be a good correspondent, and also for failing to be there when Jane needed her.

  In her novel The Watsons, Jane chooses to deal, in an uncharacteristically immoderate, even bitter way, with the subject of sisterly betrayal. Her poem entitled ‘Miss Austen’, discovered by Lord Brabourne in 1807, is about love and it refers to those who were once friends becoming bitter foes. Also, the fact that after the title Jane has included Cassandra’s name – written in brackets – implies that Jane intends the sentiments which she expressed therein, to be directed towards her sister. Finally, Cassandra’s phrase, �
�my many causes of self-reproach’, was written in respect of Jane after her death. These coded signals appear to reveal that the sisters had a falling out and that one, presumably Cassandra, betrayed the other, in an affair of the heart.

  HER MYSTERIOUS LOVER

  Until now, the identity of Jane’s Devonshire lover has remained a mystery, largely because Cassandra destroyed those letters of Jane’s which might have shed light on the subject. Cassandra did, however, admit both to her niece Caroline and to her niece Anna, that the man’s name was Blackall. Evidence has been put forward that this lover was, in fact, the Revd Samuel Blackall, the same gentleman whom Jane had met (at Mrs Lefroy’s instigation) in 1798. The evidence for this, although circumstantial, is strong:

  Firstly, we have Cassandra’s word that his name was Blackall. Secondly, we know he was visiting his brother who was a doctor in South Devonshire. Thirdly, we know that the Austens paid a visit to South Devonshire, and more particularly to the vicinity in which Dr John Blackall practised medicine, in the summer of 1802. What clinches the matter is the fact that, according to parish records, Samuel Blackall is known to have had a younger brother, Dr John Blackall, who was practising in Devon at the time.

  CASSANDRA’S ROLE

  Why did Cassandra choose to destroy the evidence relating to Blackall, but not that which related to another gentleman with whom Jane fell in love, namely Tom Lefroy? If Cassandra did indeed attempt to steal Blackall from Jane, as both The Watsons and the poem ‘Miss Austen’ appear to imply, and if Jane had alluded to this in her letters, then surely this would have given Cassandra a motive to destroy them. After all, had their contents become known to the family, or to the public at large, Cassandra would have been portrayed in a very poor light indeed. Also, the time frame fits perfectly in that the ‘missing letter’ period encompasses the year 1802, when Jane and Blackall were reunited.

  That Cassandra was mightily impressed by Blackall is born out by Caroline Austen in her (previously mentioned) letter to Mary Leigh. Caroline states that when she, her mother and Cassandra ‘made the acquaintance of a certain Mr. Henry Eldridge of the Engineers’, Cassandra said that this gentleman, whom she regarded as ‘very pleasing’, ‘good looking’, ‘unusually gifted’ and ‘agreeable’, reminded her of the gentleman ‘whom they had met one Summer when they were by the sea’.

  Alternatively, is it possible that Cassandra – and not Jane – was the victim, and that it was the former to whom Blackall was attracted? This is unlikely, for if Jane was the culprit then why was she so anxious to emphasise the subject of sisterly betrayal, both in The Watsons and in her poem?

  THE OUTCOME

  Did Blackall keep in touch with Jane during the ‘missing letter’ years, and if so, why did he not propose to her (instead of to Susannah Lewis) when he finally obtained his Somersetshire living and became Rector of Great Cadbury in 1812? After all, Jane, at that time was in good health, her final illnesses not yet having manifested themselves. This question remains unanswered.

  THE CESSATION OF JANE’S NOVEL-WRITING

  In 1804 Jane lost her dear friend Mrs Lefroy, and in 1805 she lost her beloved father George. It also seems to be the case that in 1802 she had experienced the trauma of a failed relationship with Blackall. If, in addition, there was a simultaneous breakdown in Jane’s relationship with her, hitherto, beloved sister Cassandra whom she adored, this may explain why her novel-writing virtually ceased for over a decade (from 1798 to 1810).

  Reading between the lines, it appears that Jane convinced herself that her sister had influenced Blackall against her, and tried to steal him for herself. There is, however, another interpretation of events. In meeting with the Austen family again in 1802, was Blackall merely attempting, in his words, to improve his ‘acquaintance with that family’, rather than with one of its members in particular – i.e. either Jane or Cassandra? Had Jane misread the signs, believing him to be in love with her when he was not? And when this became obvious, did she turn, unfairly, on her sister and apportion blame for the failed relationship to her? There is evidence that Jane sometimes did get matters out of proportion as far as Cassandra was concerned; she scolded her, for example, when the latter failed to write to her, or was absent from home for what she considered to be inordinately long periods of time; times when Cassandra clearly desired some life of her own.

  HER FINAL ILLNESS

  The mystery relating to Jane’s final illness was largely solved by physician Sir Zachary Cope in 1964, when he diagnosed her condition as Addison’s disease. This, however, was only part of Jane’s problem for, as has been demonstrated, it is highly likely that she was also suffering from tuberculosis of the spine – a disease which she appears to have contracted from her brother Henry while she was nursing him.

  Jane’s novels portray middle and upper-class society, where the characters, in the main, occupy fine houses, walk about in fine clothes and stroll leisurely through idyllic gardens and parks. Her characters – even the bad ones – almost invariably live happily ever after, in an environment where poverty and sickness figure only peripherally.

  How can it be that Jane, all too often, sees misfortune and even death as an opportunity for humour? This, undoubtedly, was for her a coping mechanism; one which enabled her to avoid facing up to the more unpleasant side of life. And yet, in her novels, she demonstrates her concern for the wronged and underprivileged on countless occasions: in Mansfield Park, where Fanny Price is denied a fire in her bedroom; in Emma, where Emma Woodhouse insults Miss Bates; in Sense and Sensibility, where Sir John Middleton takes pity on the Dashwood family after they find themselves homeless. Neither should it be forgotten that Jane looked after her mother – a chronically sick woman – for many years without complaint, and devotedly nursed her brother Henry when he too became ill.

  ‘I consider everybody as having the right to marry once in their Lives for Love, if they can …’1 These words were written by Jane to her sister Cassandra in 1808. They undoubtedly reflect a tremendous regret on her part, that during the years in which she might reasonably have expected to find conjugal happiness, she did not do so. However, in a letter which Jane subsequently wrote to her niece Fanny Knight, she affirmed that being on one’s own is preferable to being with the wrong person:

  Nothing can be compared to the misery of being bound without Love, bound to one, & preferring another. That is a Punishment which you do not deserve.2

  Jane subsequently advised Fanny:

  Do not be in a hurry; depend upon it, the right Man will come at last; you will, in the course of the next two or three years, meet with somebody more generally unexceptionable than anyone you have yet known, who will love you as warmly as ever He [Mr James Wildman] did, & who will so completely attach you, that you will feel you never really loved before.3

  What if Jane had married and had children of her own? Would she have made a good mother, and enjoyed the experience? This may be deduced from the comments which her nieces and others made about her, and also by what she said about them. Caroline Austen, for example, was the daughter of Jane’s eldest brother James by his second wife Mary Lloyd. She was only 12 years old when her Aunt Jane died and therefore ‘knew her only with a child’s knowledge’. About Jane, Caroline had this to say:

  Her charm to children was great sweetness of manner – she seemed to love you, and you loved her naturally in return – this as well I can now recollect and analyse, was what I felt in my earliest days, before I was old enough to be amused by her cleverness – But soon came the delight of her playful talk – every-thing she could make amusing to a child – Then, as I got older, and when cousins came to share the entertainment, she would tell us the most delightful stories chiefly of fairyland …

  I had taken early to writing verses and stories, and I am sorry to think how I troubled her with reading them. She was very kind about it and always had some praise to bestow.4

  On another occasion Caroline, whose visits to Chawton were frequent, compared Jane
’s sister Cassandra with Jane herself – Jane being the one whom she considered to be a warmer and more engaging personality:

  Aunt Jane was a great charm … I did not dislike Aunt Cassandra – but if my visit had at any time chanced to fall out [occur] during her absence, I don’t think I should have missed her – whereas, not to have found Aunt Jane at Chawton, would have been a blank indeed.5

  James E. Austen-Leigh, Caroline’s brother, remarked upon Jane’s relationship with her brother (James’s uncle) Edward and his children: Though Jane and Edward had been ‘a good deal separated’ from his family in childhood, ‘they were much together in after life, and Jane gave a large share of her affections to him [Edward] and his children’.6

  Jane was clearly enamoured with her nieces, as this poem which she wrote about Anna Austen typically illustrates:

  In measured verse I’ll now rehearse

  The charms of lovely Anna:

  And, first, her mind is unconfined

  Like any vast savannah.

  And the poem ends:

  Another world must be unfurled,

  Another language known,

  ’Ere tongue or sound can publish round

  Her charms of flesh and bone.

  We are grateful to Jane for leaving us her wonderful portraits of life in a bygone age, albeit for a relatively small and privileged portion of society. Some might view the reading of such works, or the watching of their dramatised re-enactments, as a form of escapism. But what is the harm in that? After all, there are many features of the modern world from which it is a positive relief to escape.