Chapter X: Change of Home

1800-1801

Though we can guess what was constantly occupying the thoughts of the Austens in the autumn and winter of 1799-1800, nothing remains to tell us how they employed themselves during these anxious months. Perhaps the sisters were at home, and exchanged no letters; but had any been written, we may be pretty sure they would be among those destroyed by Cassandra. When we meet the family again, in October 1800, we find that they have returned to everyday life with its little incidents, its duties, and its pleasures; that Edward and his eldest son have lately left Steventon for Godmersham, taking Cassandra with them, and that Jane is remaining at home with her parents.

Steventon: Saturday evening [October 25, 1800].

MY DEAR CASSANDRA,-- . . . You have had a very
pleasant journey of course, and have found
Elizabeth and all the children very well on your
arrival at Godmersham, and I congratulate you on
it. Edward is rejoicing this evening, I dare say,
to find himself once more at home, from which he
fancies he has been absent a great while. His son
left behind him the very fine chestnuts which had
been selected for planting at Godmersham, and the
drawing of his own which he had intended to carry
to George; the former will therefore be deposited
in the soil of Hampshire instead of Kent, the
latter I have already consigned to another
element.

We have been exceedingly busy ever since you went
away. In the first place we have had to rejoice
two or three times every day at your having such
very delightful weather for the whole of your
journey, and in the second place we have been
obliged to take advantage of the very delightful
weather ourselves by going to see almost all our
neighbours.

On Thursday we walked to Deane, yesterday to
Oakley Hall and Oakley, and to-day to Deane again.
At Oakley Hall we did a great deal--eat some
sandwiches all over mustard, admired Mr.
Bramston's porter, and Mrs. Bramston's
transparencies, and gained a promise from the
latter of two roots of heartsease, one all yellow
and the other all purple, for you. At Oakley we
bought ten pair of worsted stockings and a shift;
the shift is for Betty Dawkins, as we find she
wants it more than a rug; she is one of the most
grateful of all whom Edward's charity has reached,
or at least she expresses herself more warmly than
the rest, for she sends him a 'sight of thanks.'

This morning we called at the Harwoods', and in
their dining-room found 'Heathcote and Chute[107]
for ever'--Mrs. William Heathcote and Mrs.
Chute--the first of whom took a long ride
yesterday morning with Mrs. Harwood into Lord
Carnarvon's park, and fainted away in the evening,
and the second walked down from Oakley Hall
attended by Mrs. Augusta Bramston; they had meant
to come on to Steventon afterwards, but we knew a
trick worth two of that.

* * * * *

James called by my father's desire on Mr.
Bayle[108] to inquire into the cause of his being
so horrid. Mr. Bayle did not attempt to deny his
being horrid, and made many apologies for it; he
did not plead his having a drunken self, he talked
only of a drunken foreman, &c., and gave hopes of
the tables being at Steventon on Monday se'nnight
next. We have had no letter since you left us,
except one from Mr. Serle, of Bishopstoke, to
inquire the character of James Elton.

_Sunday._--Our improvements have advanced very
well; the bank along the _elm walk_ is sloped down
for the reception of thorns and lilacs, and it is
settled that the other side of the path is to
continue turfed, and to be planted with beech,
ash, and larch.

Steventon: Saturday [November 1, 1800].

You have written, I am sure, though I have
received no letter from you since your leaving
London; the post, and not yourself, must have been
unpunctual.

We have at last heard from Frank; a letter came
from him to you yesterday, and I mean to send it
on as soon as I can get a ditto (_that_ means a
frank), which I hope to do in a day or two. _En
attendant_, you must rest satisfied with knowing
that on the 8th of July the _Peterel_ with the
rest of the Egyptian squadron was off the Isle of
Cyprus, whither they went from Jaffa for
provisions, &c., and whence they were to sail in a
day or two for Alexandria, there to wait the
result of the English proposals for the evacuation
of Egypt. The rest of the letter, according to the
present fashionable style of composition, is
chiefly descriptive. Of his promotion he knows
nothing; of prizes he is guiltless.

* * * * *

Did you think of our ball [probably at
Basingstoke] on Thursday evening, and did you
suppose me at it? You might very safely, for there
I was. On Wednesday morning it was settled that
Mrs. Harwood, Mary, and I should go together, and
shortly afterwards a very civil note of
invitation for me came from Mrs. Bramston, who
wrote I believe as soon as she knew of the ball. I
might likewise have gone with Mrs. Lefroy, and
therefore, with three methods of going, I must
have been more at the ball than anyone else. I
dined and slept at Deane; Charlotte and I did my
hair, which I fancy looked very indifferent;
nobody abused it, however, and I retired delighted
with my success.

It was a pleasant ball, and still more good than
pleasant, for there were nearly sixty people, and
sometimes we had seventeen couple. The
Portsmouths, Dorchesters, Boltons, Portals, and
Clerks were there, and all the meaner and more
usual &c., &c.'s. There was a scarcity of men in
general, and a still greater scarcity of any that
were good for much. I danced nine dances out of
ten--five with Stephen Terry, T. Chute, and James
Digweed, and four with Catherine.[109] There was
commonly a couple of ladies standing up together,
but not often any so amiable as ourselves.

* * * * *

You were inquired after very prettily, and I hope
the whole assembly now understands that you are
gone into Kent, which the families in general
seemed to meet in ignorance of. Lord Portsmouth
surpassed the rest in his attentive recollection
of you, inquired more into the length of your
absence, and concluded by desiring to be
'remembered to you when I wrote next.'

Lady Portsmouth had got a different dress on, and
Lady Bolton is much improved by a wig. The three
Miss Terries were there, but no Annie; which was a
great disappointment to me. I hope the poor girl
had not set her heart on her appearance that
evening so much as I had. Mr. Terry is ill, in a
very low way. I said civil things for Edward to
Mr. Chute, who amply returned them by declaring
that, had he known of my brother's being at
Steventon, he should have made a point of calling
upon him to thank him for his civility about the
Hunt.

Steventon: Saturday evening [November 8, 1800].[110]

Having just finished _Les Veillees du Chateau_ I
think it a good opportunity for beginning a letter
to you while my mind is stored with ideas worth
transmitting.

* * * * *

I thank you for so speedy a return to my two last,
and particularly thank you for your anecdote of
Charlotte Graham and her cousin, Harriet Bailey,
which has very much amused both my mother and
myself. If you can learn anything farther of that
interesting affair, I hope you will mention it. I
have two messages; let me get rid of them, and
then my paper will be my own. Mary fully intended
writing to you by Mr. Chute's frank, and only
happened entirely to forget it, but will write
soon; and my father wishes Edward to send him a
memorandum in your next letter of the price of the
hops. The tables are come, and give general
contentment. I had not expected that they would so
perfectly suit the fancy of us all three, or that
we should so well agree in the disposition of
them; but nothing except their own surface can
have been smoother. The two ends put together form
one constant table for everything, and the centre
piece stands exceedingly well under the glass, and
holds a great deal most commodiously, without
looking awkwardly. They are both covered with
green baize, and send their best love. The
Pembroke has got its destination by the sideboard,
and my mother has great delight in keeping her
money and papers locked up. The little table which
used to stand there has most conveniently taken
itself off into the best bedroom; and we are now
in want only of the chiffonniere, which is neither
finished nor come. So much for that subject; I
now come to another, of a very different nature,
as other subjects are very apt to be. Earle
Harwood has been again giving uneasiness to his
family and talk to the neighbourhood; in the
present instance, however, he is only unfortunate,
and not in fault.

About ten days ago, in cocking a pistol in the
guard-room at Marcau (?) he accidentally shot
himself through the thigh. Two young Scotch
surgeons in the island were polite enough to
propose taking off the thigh at once, but to that
he would not consent; and accordingly in his
wounded state was put on board a cutter and
conveyed to Haslar Hospital, at Gosport, where the
bullet was extracted, and where he now is, I hope,
in a fair way of doing well. The surgeon of the
hospital wrote to the family on the occasion, and
John Harwood went down to him immediately,
attended by James,[111] whose object in going was
to be the means of bringing back the earliest
intelligence to Mr. and Mrs. Harwood, whose
anxious sufferings, particularly those of the
latter, have of course been dreadful. They went
down on Tuesday, and James came back the next day,
bringing such favourable accounts as greatly to
lessen the distress of the family at Deane, though
it will probably be a long while before Mrs.
Harwood can be quite at ease. _One_ most material
comfort, however, they have: the assurance of its
being really an accidental wound, which is not
only positively declared by Earle himself, but is
likewise testified by the particular direction of
the bullet. Such a wound could not have been
received in a duel. At present he is going on very
well, but the surgeon will not declare him to be
in no danger. . . . James had not time at Gosport to
take any other steps towards seeing Charles, than
the very few which conducted him to the door of
the assembly room in the Inn, where there happened
to be a Ball on the night of their arrival; a
likely spot enough for the discovery of a Charles:
but I am glad to say that he was not of the party,
for it was in general a very ungenteel one, and
there was hardly a pretty girl in the room.

* * * * *

Yesterday was a day of great business with me;
Mary drove me all in the rain to Basingstoke, and
still more all in the rain back again, because it
rained harder; and soon after our return to Deane
a sudden invitation and an own postchaise took us
to Ashe Park to dine _tete-a-tete_ with Mr.
Holder, Mr. Gauntlet, and James Digweed; but our
_tete-a-tete_ was cruelly reduced by the
non-attendance of the two latter. We had a very
quiet evening. I believe Mary found it dull, but I
thought it very pleasant. To sit in idleness over
a good fire in a well-proportioned room is a
luxurious sensation. Sometimes we talked, and
sometimes we were quite silent; I said two or
three amusing things, and Mr. Holder made a few
infamous puns.

* * * * *

Mr. Heathcote met with a genteel little accident
the other day in hunting; he got off to lead his
horse over a hedge, or a house, or something, and
his horse in his haste trod upon his leg, or
rather ancle, I believe, and it is not certain
whether the small bone is not broke.

. . . Martha has accepted Mary's invitation for Lord
Portsmouth's ball. He has not yet sent out his
_own_ invitations, but _that_ does not signify;
Martha comes, and a ball there must be. I think it
will be too early in her mother's absence for me
to return with her.

* * * * *

_Sunday Evening._--We have had a dreadful storm of
wind in the fore part of this day, which has done
a great deal of mischief among our trees. I was
sitting alone in the dining-room when an odd kind
of crash startled me--in a moment afterwards it
was repeated; descend into the Sweep!!!!! The
other, which had fallen, I suppose, in the first
crash, and which was the nearest to the pond,
taking a more easterly direction, sunk among our
screen of chestnuts and firs, knocking down one
spruce-fir, beating off the head of another, and
stripping the two corner chestnuts of several
branches in its fall. This is not all. One large
elm out of the two on the left-hand side as you
enter what I call the elm walk, was likewise blown
down; the maypole bearing the weathercock was
broke in two, and what I regret more than all the
rest is, that all the three elms which grew in
Hall's meadow, and gave such ornament to it, are
gone; two were blown down, and the other so much
injured that it cannot stand. I am happy to add,
however, that no greater evil than the loss of
trees has been the consequence of the storm in
this place, or in our immediate neighbourhood. We
grieve, therefore, in some comfort.

Mr. Holder's paper tells us that some time in last
August Captain Austen and the _Peterel_ were very
active in securing a Turkish ship (driven into
Port in Cyprus by bad weather) from the French. He
was forced to burn her, however.

I am yours ever,
J. A.

Next in order comes a letter to Martha Lloyd:--

Steventon: Wednesday evening [November 12, 1800].[112]

MY DEAR MARTHA,--I did not receive your note
yesterday till after Charlotte had left Deane, or
I would have sent my answer by her, instead of
being the means, as I now must be, of lessening
the elegance of your new dress for the Hurstbourne
ball by the value of 3_d._ You are very good in
wishing to see me at Ibthorp so soon, and I am
equally good in wishing to come to you. I believe
our merit in that respect is much upon a par, our
self-denial mutually strong. Having paid this
tribute of praise to the virtue of both, I shall
here have done with panegyric, and proceed to
plain matter of fact. In about a fortnight's time
I hope to be with you. I have two reasons for not
being able to come before. I wish so to arrange my
visit as to spend some days with you after your
mother's return. In the 1st place, that I may have
the pleasure of seeing her, and in the 2nd, that I
may have a better chance of bringing you back with
me. Your promise in my favour was not quite
absolute, but if your will is not perverse, you
and I will do all in our power to overcome your
scruples of conscience. I hope we shall meet next
week to talk all this over, till we have tired
ourselves with the very idea of my visit before my
visit begins. Our invitations for the 19th are
arrived, and very curiously are they worded.[113]
Mary mentioned to you yesterday poor Earle's
unfortunate accident, I dare say. He does not seem
to be going on very well. The two or three last
posts have brought less and less favourable
accounts of him. John Harwood has gone to Gosport
again to-day. We have two families of friends now
who are in a most anxious state; for though by a
note from Catherine this morning there seems now
to be a revival of hope at Manydown, its
continuance may be too reasonably doubted. Mr.
Heathcote, however, who has broken the small bone
of his leg, is so good as to be going on very
well. It would be really too much to have three
people to care for.

You distress me cruelly by your request about
books. I cannot think of any to bring with me,
nor have I any idea of our wanting them. I come
to you to be talked to, not to read or hear
reading; I can do that at home; and indeed I am
now laying in a stock of intelligence to pour out
on you as my share of the conversation. I am
reading Henry's _History of England_, which I will
repeat to you in any manner you may prefer, either
in a loose, desultory, unconnected stream, or
dividing my recital, as the historian divides it
himself, into seven parts:--The Civil and
Military: Religion: Constitution: Learning and
Learned Men: Arts and Sciences: Commerce, Coins,
and Shipping: and Manners. So that for every
evening in the week there will be a different
subject. The Friday's lot--Commerce, Coins, and
Shipping--you will find the least entertaining;
but the next evening's portion will make amends.
With such a provision on my part, if you will do
yours by repeating the French Grammar, and Mrs.
Stent[114] will now and then ejaculate some wonder
about the cocks and hens, what can we want?
Farewell for a short time. We all unite in best
love, and I am your very affectionate

J. A.

The Hurstbourne ball took place on November 19, and was graced by the presence of Lieutenant Charles Austen. He had distinguished himself on the _Endymion_, especially in the capture of the _Scipio_ in a heavy gale. His ship was now at Portsmouth waiting for orders.

Steventon: Thursday [November 20, 1800].

MY DEAR CASSANDRA,--Your letter took me quite by
surprise this morning; you are very welcome,
however, and I am very much obliged to you. I
believe I drank too much wine last night at
Hurstbourne; I know not how else to account for
the shaking of my hand to-day. You will kindly
make allowance therefore for any indistinctness
of writing, by attributing it to this venial
error.

Naughty Charles did not come on Tuesday, but good
Charles came yesterday morning. About two o'clock
he walked in on a Gosport hack. His feeling equal
to such a fatigue is a good sign, and his feeling
no fatigue in it a still better. He walked down to
Deane to dinner; he danced the whole evening, and
to-day is no more tired than a gentleman ought to
be.

Your desire to hear from me on Sunday will,
perhaps, bring you a more particular account of
the ball than you may care for, because one is
prone to think much more of such things the
morning after they happen, than when time has
entirely driven them out of one's recollection.

It was a pleasant evening; Charles found it
remarkably so, but I cannot tell why, unless the
absence of Miss Terry, towards whom his conscience
reproaches him with being now perfectly
indifferent, was a relief to him. There were only
twelve dances, of which I danced nine, and was
merely prevented from dancing the rest by the want
of a partner. We began at ten, supped at one, and
were at Deane before five. There were but fifty
people in the room; very few families indeed from
our side of the county, and not many more from the
other. My partners were the two St. Johns, Hooper,
Holder, and very prodigious Mr. Mathew, with whom
I called[115] the last, and whom I liked the best
of my little stock.

There were very few beauties, and such as there
were not very handsome. Miss Iremonger did not
look well, and Mrs. Blount was the only one much
admired. She appeared exactly as she did in
September, with the same broad face, diamond
bandeau, white shoes, pink husband, and fat neck.
The two Miss Coxes were there; I traced in one the
remains of the vulgar, broad-featured girl who
danced at Enham eight years ago; the other is
refined into a nice, composed-looking girl, like
Catherine Bigg. I looked at Sir Thomas Champneys
and thought of poor Rosalie; I looked at his
daughter, and thought her a queer animal with a
white neck.

* * * * *

Mary said that I looked very well last night. I
wore my aunt's gown and handkerchief, and my hair
was at least tidy, which was all my ambition. I
will now have done with the ball, and I will
moreover go and dress for dinner.

* * * * *

The young lady whom it is expected that Sir
Thomas[116] is to marry is Miss Emma Wabshaw; she
lives somewhere between Southampton and
Winchester, is handsome, accomplished, amiable,
and everything but rich. He is certainly finishing
his house in a great hurry. Perhaps the report of
his being to marry a Miss Fanshawe might originate
in his attentions to this very lady--the names are
not unlike.

* * * * *

The three Digweeds all came on Tuesday, and we
played a pool at commerce. James Digweed left
Hampshire to-day. I think he must be in love with
you, from his anxiety to have you go to the
Faversham balls, and likewise from his supposition
that the two elms fell from their grief at your
absence. Was not it a gallant idea? It never
occurred to me before, but I dare say it was so.

* * * * *

I rejoice to say that we have just had another
letter from our dear Frank. It is to you, very
short, written from Larnica in Cyprus, and so
lately as October 2nd. He came from Alexandria,
and was to return there in three or four days,
knew nothing of his promotion, and does not write
above twenty lines, from a doubt of the letter's
ever reaching you, and an idea of all letters
being opened at Vienna. He wrote a few days before
to you from Alexandria by the _Mercury_ sent with
despatches to Lord Keith. Another letter must be
owing to us besides this, _one_ if not _two_;
because none of these are to me. Henry comes
to-morrow, for one night only.

The visit to Ibthorp came off, as is shown by the following letter:--

Ibthorp: Sunday [November 30, 1800].[117]

MY DEAR CASSANDRA,--Shall you expect to hear from
me on Wednesday or not? I think you will, or I
should not write, as the three days and half which
have passed since my last letter have not produced
many materials towards filling another sheet of
paper. But, like Mr. Hastings, 'I do not despair,'
and you perhaps, like the faithful Maria, may feel
still more certain of the happy event. I have been
here ever since a quarter after three on Thursday
last, by the Shrewsbury clock, which I am
fortunately enabled absolutely to ascertain
because Mrs. Stent once lived at Shrewsbury, or at
least at Tewksbury. I have the pleasure of
thinking myself a very welcome guest, and the
pleasure of spending my time very pleasantly.
Martha looks well, and wants me to find out that
she grows fat; but I cannot carry my complaisance
farther than to believe whatever she asserts on
the subject. Mrs. Stent gives us quite as much of
her company as we wish for, and rather more than
she used to do; but perhaps not more than is to
our advantage in the end, because it is too dirty
even for such desperate walkers as Martha and I to
get out of doors, and we are therefore confined to
each other's society from morning till night, with
very little variety of books or gowns. Three of
the Miss Debaries[118] called here the morning
after my arrival, but I have not yet been able to
return their civility. You know it is not an
uncommon circumstance in this parish to have the
road from Ibthorp to the Parsonage much dirtier
and more impracticable for walking than the road
from the Parsonage to Ibthorp. I left my Mother
very well when I came away, and left her with
strict orders to continue so.

* * * * *

The endless Debaries are of course very well
acquainted with the lady who is to marry Sir
Thomas, and all her family. I pardon them,
however, as their description of her is
favourable. Mrs. Wapshire is a widow, with several
sons and daughters, a good fortune, and a house in
Salisbury; where Miss Wapshire has been for many
years a distinguished beauty. She is now seven or
eight and twenty, and tho' still handsome, less
handsome than she has been. This promises better
than the bloom of seventeen; and in addition to
this they say that she has always been remarkable
for the propriety of her behaviour distinguishing
her far above the general classes of town misses,
and rendering her of course very unpopular among
them.

* * * * *

Martha has promised to return with me, and our
plan is to have a nice black frost for walking to
Whitchurch, and then throw ourselves into a post
chaise, one upon the other, our heads hanging out
at one door and our feet at the opposite one. If
you have never heard that Miss Dawes has been
married these two months, I will mention it in my
next. Pray do not forget to go to the Canterbury
Ball; I shall despise you all most insufferably if
you do.

* * * * *

I have charged my myrmidons to send me an account
of the Basingstoke Ball; I have placed my spies at
different places that they may collect the more;
and by so doing, by sending Miss Bigg to the
Town-hall[119] itself, and posting my mother at
Steventon I hope to derive from their various
observations a good general idea of the whole.

Miss Austen, Yours ever,
Godmersham Park, J. A.
Faversham, Kent.

While Jane was away on this visit, Mr. and Mrs. Austen came to a momentous decision--namely, to leave Steventon and retire to Bath. There can be little doubt that the decision was a hasty one. Some of Jane's previous letters contain details of the very considerable improvements that her father had just begun in the Rectory garden; and we do not hear that these improvements were concerted with the son who was to be his successor. So hasty, indeed, did Mr. Austen's decision appear to the Perrots that they suspected the reason to be a growing attachment between Jane and one of the three Digweed brothers. There is not the slightest evidence of this very improbable supposition in Jane's letters, though she _does_ occasionally suggest that James Digweed must be in love with Cassandra, especially when he gallantly supposed that the two elms had fallen from grief at her absence. On the whole it seems most probable that Mrs. Austen's continued ill-health was the reason for the change.

Tradition says that when Jane returned home accompanied by Martha Lloyd, the news was abruptly announced by her mother, who thus greeted them: 'Well, girls, it is all settled; we have decided to leave Steventon in such a week, and go to Bath'; and that the shock of the intelligence was so great to Jane that she fainted away. Unfortunately, there is no further direct evidence to show how far Jane's feelings resembled those she has attributed to Marianne Dashwood on leaving Norland; but we have the negative evidence arising from the fact that none of her letters are preserved between November 30, 1800, and January 3, 1801, although Cassandra was at Godmersham during the whole of the intervening month. Silence on the part of Jane to Cassandra for so long a period of absence is unheard of: and according to the rule acted on by Cassandra, destruction of her sister's letters was a proof of their emotional interest. We cannot doubt, therefore, that she wrote in a strain unusual for her more than once in that month; but as she says of Elizabeth Bennet 'it was her business to be satisfied--and certainly her temper to be happy'; and the next letter that we have shows that she was determined to face a new life in a new place with cheerfulness.

Steventon: Saturday [January 3, 1801].

MY DEAR CASSANDRA, . . .--My mother looks forward
with as much certainty as you can do to our
keeping two maids; my father is the only one not
in the secret. We plan having a steady cook and a
young, giddy housemaid, with a sedate middle-aged
man, who is to undertake the double office of
husband to the former and sweetheart to the
latter.

* * * * *

There are three parts of Bath which we have
thought of as likely to have houses in
them--Westgate Buildings, Charles Street, and some
of the short streets leading from Laura Place or
Pulteney Street.

Westgate Buildings, though quite in the lower part
of the town, are not badly situated themselves.
The street is broad, and has rather a good
appearance. Charles Street, however, I think is
preferable. The buildings are new, and its
nearness to Kingsmead Fields would be a pleasant
circumstance. Perhaps you may remember, or perhaps
you may forget, that Charles Street leads from the
Queen Square Chapel to the two Green Park Streets.

The houses in the streets near Laura Place I
should expect to be above our price. Gay Street
would be too high, except only the lower house on
the left-hand side as you ascend. Towards that my
mother has no disinclination; it used to be lower
rented than any other house in the row, from some
inferiority in the apartments. But above all
others her wishes are at present fixed on the
corner house in Chapel Row, which opens into
Prince's Street. Her knowledge of it, however, is
confined only to the outside, and therefore she is
equally uncertain of its being really desirable as
of its being to be had. In the meantime she
assures you that she will do everything in her
power to avoid Trim Street, although you have not
expressed the fearful presentiment of it which was
rather expected.

We know that Mrs. Perrot will want to get us into
Oxford Buildings,[120] but we all unite in
particular dislike of that part of the town, and
therefore hope to escape. Upon all these different
situations you and Edward may confer together, and
your opinion of each will be expected with
eagerness.

* * * * *

I have now attained the true art of
letter-writing, which we are always told is to
express on paper exactly what one would say to the
same person by word of mouth. I have been talking
to you almost as fast as I could the whole of this
letter.

* * * * *

My mother bargains for having no trouble at all in
furnishing our house in Bath, and I have engaged
for your willingly undertaking to do it all. I get
more and more reconciled to the idea of our
removal. We have lived long enough in this
neighbourhood; the Basingstoke balls are certainly
on the decline, there is something interesting in
the bustle of going away, and the prospect of
spending future summers by the sea or in Wales is
very delightful. For a time we shall now possess
many of the advantages which I have often thought
of with envy in the wives of sailors or soldiers.
It must not be generally known, however, that I am
not sacrificing a great deal in quitting the
country, or I can expect to inspire no tenderness,
no interest, in those we leave behind.

The threatened Act of Parliament does not seem to
give any alarm.

My father is doing all in his power to increase
his income, by raising his tithes, &c., and I do
not despair of getting very nearly six hundred a
year.

Steventon: Thursday [January 8, 1801].

Mr. Peter Debary has declined Deane curacy; he
wishes to be settled near London. A foolish
reason! as if Deane were not near London in
comparison of Exeter or York. Take the whole world
through, and he will find many more places at a
greater distance from London than Deane than he
will at a less. What does he think of Glencoe or
Lake Katherine?

I feel rather indignant that any possible
objection should be raised against so valuable a
piece of preferment, so delightful a
situation!--that Deane should not be universally
allowed to be as near the metropolis as any other
country villages. As this is the case, however, as
Mr. Peter Debary has shown himself a Peter in the
blackest sense of the word, we are obliged to look
elsewhere for an heir; and my father has thought
it a necessary compliment to James Digweed to
offer the curacy to him, though without
considering it as either a desirable or an
eligible situation for him.

* * * * *

Eliza has seen Lord Craven at Barton, and probably
by this time at Kintbury, where he was expected
for one day this week. She found his manners very
pleasing indeed. The little flaw of having a
mistress now living with him at Ashdown Park seems
to be the only unpleasing circumstance about him.
From Ibthorp, Fulwar and Eliza are to return with
James and Mary to Deane.

* * * * *

Pray give my love to George; tell him that I am
very glad to hear he can skip so well already, and
that I hope he will continue to send me word of
his improvement in the art.

* * * * *

_Friday._--Sidmouth is now talked of as our summer
abode. Get all the information, therefore, about
it that you can from Mrs. C. Cage.

My father's old ministers are already deserting
him to pay their court to his son. The brown mare,
which as well as the black, was to devolve on
James at our removal, has not had patience to wait
for that, and has settled herself even now at
Deane. The death of Hugh Capet, which, like that
of Mr. Skipsey, though undesired, was not wholly
unexpected, being purposely effected, has made the
immediate possession of the mare very convenient,
and everything else I suppose will be seized by
degrees in the same manner. Martha and I work at
the books every day.

Steventon: Wednesday [January 14, 1801].

Your letter to Mary was duly received before she
left Deane with Martha yesterday morning, and it
gives us great pleasure to know that the Chilham
ball was so agreeable, and that you danced four
dances with Mr. Kemble. Desirable, however, as the
latter circumstance was, I cannot help wondering
at its taking place. Why did you dance four dances
with so stupid a man? why not rather dance two of
them with some elegant brother officer who was
struck with your appearance as soon as you entered
the room?

* * * * *

At present the environs of Laura Place seem to be
his [my father's] choice. His views on the
subject are much advanced since I came home; he
grows quite ambitious, and actually requires now a
comfortable and a creditable-looking house.

* * * * *

This morning brought my aunt's reply, and most
thoroughly affectionate is its tenor. She thinks
with the greatest pleasure of our being settled in
Bath--it is an event which will attach her to the
place more than anything else could do, &c., &c.
She is, moreover, very urgent with my mother not
to delay her visit in Paragon, if she should
continue unwell, and even recommends her spending
the whole winter with them. At present and for
many days past my mother has been quite stout, and
she wishes not to be obliged by any relapse to
alter her arrangements.

Mention is made in several letters of Frank's promotion and his ignorance of it. In 1799, while commanding the sloop _Peterel_, he had been entrusted by Lord St. Vincent with dispatches conveying to Nelson at Palermo the startling news of Admiral Bruix's escape from Brest with a considerable fleet, and his entry into the Mediterranean. So important did Francis Austen believe this intelligence to be, that he landed his first lieutenant with the dispatches on the coast of Sicily some way short of Palermo, the wind being unfavourable for the approach to the capital by sea. Nelson next employed him in taking orders to the squadron blockading Malta. Frank spent the autumn and winter cruising about the Mediterranean, and taking various prizes; the most important capture being that of the _Ligurienne_--a French national brig convoying two vessels laden with corn for the French forces in Egypt. This exploit took place in March 1800, and was considered of such importance that he was made a post-captain for it; but so slow and uncertain was communication to and from the seat of war that he knew nothing of his promotion till October--long after his friends at home had become acquainted with it. His being 'collared and thrust out of the _Peterel_ by Captain Inglis' (his successor) is of course a graphic way of describing his change of vessel and promotion.

Steventon: Wednesday [January 21, 1801].

MY DEAR CASSANDRA,--Expect a most agreeable
letter, for not being overburdened with subject
(having nothing at all to say), I shall have no
check to my genius from beginning to end.

Well, and so Frank's letter has made you very
happy, but you are afraid he would not have
patience to stay for the _Haarlem_ which you wish
him to have done as being safer than the
merchantman. Poor fellow! to wait from the middle
of November to the end of December, and perhaps
even longer, it must be sad work; especially in a
place where the ink is so abominably pale. What a
surprise to him it must have been on October 20,
to be visited, collared, and thrust out of the
_Peterel_ by Captain Inglis. He kindly passes over
the poignancy of his feelings in quitting his
ship, his officers, and his men.

What a pity it is that he should not be in England
at the time of his promotion, because he certainly
would have had an appointment, so everybody says,
and therefore it must be right for me to say it
too. Had he been really here, the certainty of the
appointment, I dare say, would not have been half
so great, but as it could not be brought to the
proof his absence will be always a lucky source of
regret.

Eliza[121] talks of having read in a newspaper
that all the First Lieutenants of the frigates
whose Captains were to be sent into line-of-battle
ships were to be promoted to the rank of
Commanders. If it be true, Mr. Valentine may
afford himself a fine Valentine's knot, and
Charles may perhaps become First of the
_Endymion_, though I suppose Captain Durham is too
likely to bring a villain with him under that
denomination.

* * * * *

I join with you in wishing for the environs of
Laura Place, but do not venture to expect it. My
mother hankers after the Square dreadfully, and it
is but natural to suppose that my uncle will take
_her_ part. It would be very pleasant to be near
Sydney Gardens; we might go into the labyrinth
every day.

Steventon: Sunday [January 25, 1801].

Your unfortunate sister was betrayed last Thursday
into a situation of the utmost cruelty. I arrived
at Ashe Park before the party from Deane, and was
shut up in the drawing-room with Mr. Holder alone
for ten minutes. I had some thoughts of insisting
on the housekeeper or Mary Corbett being sent for,
and nothing could prevail on me to move two steps
from the door, on the lock of which I kept one
hand constantly fixed. We met nobody but
ourselves, played at _vingt-un_ again, and were
very cross.

* * * * *

Your brother Edward makes very honourable mention
of you, I assure you, in his letter to James, and
seems quite sorry to part with you. It is a great
comfort to me to think that my cares have not been
thrown away, and that you are respected in the
world. Perhaps you may be prevailed on to return
with him and Elizabeth into Kent, when they leave
us in April, and I rather suspect that your great
wish of keeping yourself disengaged has been with
that view. Do as you like; I have overcome my
desire of your going to Bath with my mother and
me. There is nothing which energy will not bring
one to.

On her way back from Godmersham, Cassandra spent some time with the Henry Austens now in Upper Berkeley Street; and while she was there, Jane sent her a letter, of which the following was a part. Information respecting the sailor brothers on active service was always rare, and proportionately valuable.

Manydown: Wednesday [February 11, 1801].[122]

MY DEAR CASSANDRA,-- . . . I should not have thought
it necessary to write to you so soon, but for the
arrival of a letter from Charles to myself. It was
written last Saturday from off the Start, and
conveyed to Popham Lane by Captain Boyle, on his
way to Midgham. He came from Lisbon in the
_Endymion_. I will copy Charles's account of his
conjectures about Frank: 'He has not seen my
brother lately, nor does he expect to find him
arrived, as he met Captain Inglis at Rhodes, going
up to take command of the _Peterel_ as he was
coming down; but supposes he will arrive in less
than a fortnight from this time, in some ship
which is expected to reach England about that time
with despatches from Sir Ralph Abercrombie.' The
event must show what sort of a conjuror Captain
Boyle is. The _Endymion_ has not been plagued with
any more prizes. Charles spent three pleasant days
in Lisbon.

They were very well satisfied with their royal
passenger[123] whom they found jolly, fat, and
affable, who talks of Lady Augusta as his wife,
and seems much attached to her.

When this letter was written the _Endymion_ was
becalmed, but Charles hoped to reach Portsmouth by
Monday or Tuesday. . . . He received my letter,
communicating our plans, before he left England,
was much surprised, of course, but is quite
reconciled to them, and means to come to
Steventon once more while Steventon is ours.

After this, we have no letters of Jane till she wrote from Bath; so we may suppose that the sisters were soon united. The months of March and April were spent in making the final preparations for leaving Steventon, and in receiving farewell visits from Edward Austen and his wife, as well as from Frank and Charles and Martha Lloyd. At the beginning of May, Mrs. Austen and her two daughters left their old home and went to Ibthorp; two days later, leaving Cassandra behind them, Jane and her mother went in a single day from Ibthorp to Bath, where they stayed with the Leigh Perrots in Paragon Buildings.

FOOTNOTES:

[107] The two M.P.'s for the county.

[108] The carpenter.

[109] Catherine Bigg.

[110] Partly _Memoir_, p. 58; partly unpublished.

[111] James Austen.

[112] _Memoir_, p. 61.

[113] The invitation, the ball-dress, and some remarks made in this and the preceding letter, refer to a ball annually given at Hurstbourne Park, on the anniversary of the Earl of Portsmouth's wedding-day. He was the third Lord Portsmouth, whose eccentricities afterwards became notorious, and the invitations, as well as other arrangements about these balls, were of a peculiar character. It will be remembered that he had been for a short time a pupil at Steventon Rectory (p. 21).

[114] A very dull old lady, then residing with Mrs. Lloyd.

[115] For this expression, see 'The Watsons' (in _Memoir_, p. 325).

[116] Sir Thomas Williams, whose first wife was Jane Cooper; 'Whapshare' is the correct name of the lady.

[117] Unpublished.

[118] The Debaries were a large family, one of whom had the Parsonage near Ibthorp.

[119] This seems to show that the balls were held at the town hall and not at the 'Angel Inn' (_Miss Hill_, pp. 51-54).

[120] Probably Jane wrote 'Axford Buildings,' which were a continuation of Paragon towards Walcot Church.

[121] Eliza Fowle.

[122] _Memoir_, p. 64.

[123] The Duke of Sussex, who married, without the King's consent, Lady Augusta Murray.