by Paula Byrne
Catherine Knight died in October 1812. Jane Austen is not mentioned in her will: perhaps she thought she had done enough for her. When it came to a second edition of Sense and Sensibility the following year, it was Henry to whom Jane owed ‘a great deal for printing etc’.29
Whether the benefactor was Henry Austen or Catherine Knight, the important point is that there was a lot at stake for Jane Austen. If Sense and Sensibility failed to sell well, she would have to cover the high costs of printing and advertising. In his retrospective account, Henry Austen insisted that Jane was so concerned about the book not meeting the ‘expense of publication’ that she ‘made a reserve from her very moderate income to meet the expected loss’.30 But at the very time that her first novel was being printed, she was dashing around London spending her money on two new hats, ‘silk stockings’ (three pairs), yards and yards of checked muslin for new dresses, pelisses with ‘expensive buttons’ and ‘bugle trimming’.31 This is not the conduct of an author who thinks that her book won’t sell. Jane Austen had far more confidence in her own ability than her brother would have us believe.
Eighteen-eleven was a busy and happy year. She was correcting proofs for Sense and Sensibility, preparing Pride and Prejudice for publication and beginning a new novel, Mansfield Park. She spent much of the year in London, staying with Henry and Eliza. This of course ensured that she was close to her publisher and printer, able to keep a close eye on progress and costs. She wasn’t going to allow a repeat of the Crosby experience.
Sense and Sensibility finally appeared in October as a three-volume set, priced at fifteen shillings. The reviews were favourable: ‘pleasant and entertaining’, ‘well-written’, ‘incidents are probable, and highly pleasing’, ‘better than most’ – though this was hardly praise to set the world alight.32
Most reviews of the time were written for the benefit of those making library lists, so a plot summary was essential and often a short excerpt to give the flavour of the novel. Library sales were important to publishers, who could take chances on unknown authors and make a small profit. Sense and Sensibility appeared in the Alton library, as we know from a family anecdote. Jane, Cassandra and their niece Anna were browsing through the new novels at their local library, when Anna picked up Sense and Sensibility ‘with careless contempt, little imagining who had written it, exclaiming to the great amusement of her Aunts who stood by “Oh that must be rubbish I am sure from the title”’.33
Jane could not know, and possibly wouldn’t especially care, that other, more aristocratic readers were enjoying the novel. Lady Bessborough, sister to the notorious Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, commented on Sense and Sensibility in a letter to a friend: ‘it is a clever novel … tho’ it ends stupidly, I was much amused by it’. The fifteen-year-old daughter of the Prince Regent, Princess Charlotte Augusta, compared herself to one of the book’s heroines: ‘it certainly is interesting, and you feel quite one of the company. I think Maryanne and me are very like in disposition, that certainly I am not so good, the same imprudence etc., however remain very like.’34
In the event, the novel sold out by July 1813 and the remaining profit, after the payment of the upfront costs, was £140.35 A second edition was published by Egerton the following autumn, with some corrections and changes, but also a number of textual errors, and it sold only slowly.
By November 1812 Jane Austen had negotiated a new deal with Egerton to publish Pride and Prejudice. This time he had sufficient confidence to buy the copyright for £110. She had asked for more: ‘I would rather have had £150, but we could not both be pleased, and I am not at all surprised that he should not chuse to hazard so much.’ One of the reasons she sold the copyright of Pride and Prejudice was to save Henry the problems associated with commission publishing: ‘Its being sold will I hope be a great saving of Trouble to Henry, and therefore must be welcome to me – The Money is to be paid at the end of the twelvemonth.’36
Pride and Prejudice was duly published in January of 1813, also in three volumes by Egerton, in a print run that was probably of fifteen hundred copies. Five copies were sent to the author, and on 29 January she wrote that ‘I have got my own darling child from London.’ She couldn’t have known it at the time, but selling the copyright of what would be her most popular novel was a mistake. The risk and the profit were all Egerton’s and the novel was a success.37
The reviews for Austen’s second novel were much more favourable than for her first. The British Critic remarked that Pride and Prejudice was ‘very far superior to almost all the publications of the kind which have lately come before us’. Elizabeth Bennet as a character was ‘supported with great spirit and consistency throughout’.38 The Critical Review noted the depiction of a large and various cast of characters:
A whole family, every individual of which excites the interest … very superior to any novel we have lately met with in the delineation of domestic scenes. Nor is there one character which appears flat, or obtrudes itself upon the notice of the reader with troublesome impertinence. There is not one person in the drama with whom we could readily dispense; – they have all their proper places; and fill their several stations, with great credit to themselves, and much satisfaction to the reader.39
It is clear from reading the contemporary reviews that there was a subdued but strong sense that Austen – still an unnamed ‘Lady’ – was pioneering a new kind of novel of ‘domestic scenes’ peopled with ‘probable’ characters.
Pride and Prejudice was also creating a stir among the rich and famous: Richard Sheridan, playwright, theatre manager and politician, advised a friend, Miss Shirreff, to ‘buy it immediately’, for it ‘was one of the cleverest things’ he had ever read. Annabella Milbanke, future wife of the poet Lord Byron, wrote that ‘I have finished the Novel called Pride and Prejudice, which I think a very superior work. It depends not on any of the common resources of novel writers, no drownings, no conflagrations, nor runaway horses, nor lap-dogs and parrots, nor chambermaids and milliners, nor rencontres and disguises. I really think it the most probable fiction I have ever read.’ It had, she reported, become ‘at present the fashionable novel’.40
A partner in the prestigious publishing house of Longman wrote to one of his female authors, ‘we are particularly interested for the success of the Austen and we sincerely regret that her works have not met with the encouragement we could wish’.41 The clear implication is that they would have done a much better job than Egerton, if only they had been given the opportunity. Warren Hastings, meanwhile, sent a letter of praise to Jane, saying that he particularly admired the character of Elizabeth Bennet. It is clear that Elizabeth was perceived as a new kind of heroine, a spirited, witty and feisty young woman who without money, family or connections wins the hand of the proud Mr Darcy and becomes mistress of Pemberley.
Jane Austen read Pride and Prejudice aloud at home, in an all-female reading circle, as she knew that Fanny Burney had done with Evelina all those years ago. On the very day that the books arrived a local friend Miss Benn came to dine, and the family gave a reading to her. The idea was not to tell her that the new novel was by Jane, but Miss Benn seems to have guessed the truth from the general excitement in the household. Austen was especially pleased that ‘she really does seem to admire Elizabeth. I must confess that I think her as delightful a creature as ever appeared in print, and how I shall be able to tolerate those who do not like her at least, I do not know.’42 It went so well that Miss Benn was invited back for a second evening. Jane wrote to Cassandra:
I am much obliged to you for all your praise; it came at a right time, for I had had some fits of disgust; our second evening’s reading to Miss Benn had not pleased me so well, but I beleive something must be attributed to my Mother’s too rapid way of getting on – and tho’ she perfectly understands the Characters herself, she cannot speak as they ought.
For Austen, reading her own novels aloud in the correct way – in the manner of a dramatic performance – was a particular
skill and a special joy. She was, though, as critical of her own literary performance as she was of her mother’s inferior recitation: ‘The work is rather too light and bright, and sparkling; it wants shade.’ But then, as ever, she turns the self-criticism into a joke at the expense of more pedantic, digressive novels:
It wants to be stretched out here and there with a long Chapter – of sense if it could be had, if not of solemn specious nonsense – about something unconnected with the story; an Essay on Writing, a critique on Walter Scott, or the history of Buonaparte – or anything that would form a contrast and bring the reader with increased delight to the playfulness and Epigrammatism of the general stile.
She was equally attuned to the deficiencies of her printer: ‘The greatest blunder in the Printing that I have met with is in Page 220 – Vol. 3. where two speeches are made into one. – There might as well have been no suppers at Longbourn, but I suppose it was the remains of Mrs. Bennet’s old Meryton habits.’43
She was anxious to hear the opinions of those who were in on the secret of her authorship: ‘Fanny’s praise is very gratifying … Her liking Darcy and Eliz[abeth] is enough. She might hate all the others, if she would.’44 Fanny’s diary for 5 June 1813 records that ‘A[un]t Jane spent the morning with me and read P and P to me.’ The younger Knight sisters were not allowed to listen. One of them later remembered: ‘I and the younger ones used to hear peals of laughter through the door, and thought it very hard that we should be shut out from what was so delightful.’45
Jane was brimming with pride and confidence about Pride and Prejudice: ‘Oh! I have more of such sweet flattery from Miss Sharp … I am read and admired in Ireland too.’46 To her amusement she had heard that she had an obsessive Irish fan: ‘There is a Mrs Fletcher, the wife of a Judge, an old Lady and very good and very clever, who is all curiosity to know about me – what I am like and so forth. I am not known to her by name however.’ She was keen to know whether Mrs Fletcher had read Sense and Sensibility as well. She asked Cassandra to find out and let her know while she was in London.47
As for the Miss Shirreff whom Sheridan advised to secure a copy of Pride and Prejudice at the earliest possible opportunity, she told Mary Gibson (Jane’s sister-in-law), who passed word on to Cassandra, that she was a huge admirer of Jane Austen. Indeed, every time her carriage rode past Chawton Cottage, she wished it would break down so that she could be introduced to the author. She was not far short of becoming Jane Austen’s stalker.
Though the posthumous family memoir emphasized the desire for anonymity, Jane herself was relaxed about people discovering that she was an author. She asked Cassandra to let their niece Anna in on the secret: ‘if you see her and do not dislike the commission, you may tell her for me’.48 She also told her that the secret was not really a secret in Chawton: ‘you must be prepared for the Neighbourhood being perhaps already informed of there being such a Work in the World, and in the Chawton World!’49 Now that the reviews were out and the book was such a big hit with the family, she didn’t seem to care who knew about it. She even imagined herself becoming a celebrity: ‘I do not despair of having my picture in the Exhibition at last – all white and red, with my Head on one Side.’50
Once again she spent time in London, driving around in Henry’s barouche, amusing herself by picking out portraits of fine ladies at the Exhibition and pretending they were characters from Pride and Prejudice. ‘Mrs Bingley’s is exactly herself, size, shaped face, features and sweetness; there never was a greater likeness.’51 She couldn’t find a likeness of Mrs Darcy, whom she imagined in yellow.
By October 1813 Egerton was advertising second editions of both novels. ‘I have now therefore written myself into £250,’ Jane Austen proudly told her brother Frank, who was as usual away at sea, ‘which only makes me long for more. – I have something in hand.’52
The ‘something in hand’ was Mansfield Park, begun in 1811 and finished in the summer of 1813, to be published in three volumes by Egerton in May 1814. This time she got her best deal yet. She neither had to sell the copyright nor bear the printing costs. The novel was printed ‘for T. Egerton’, not ‘for the author’. The print run was, however, only 1,250 copies. Rival publisher John Murray later expressed ‘astonishment that so small an edition of such a work should have been sent into the world’.53 Even so, Jane Austen made her biggest profit from this novel, clearing over £300 (about £20,000 or $30,000 in today’s terms).
She read Mansfield Park on the journey to London with Henry. ‘We did not begin reading till Bentley Green. Henry’s approbation hitherto is even equal to my wishes; he says it is very different from the other two, but does not appear to think it at all inferior.’54 He particularly admired Lady Bertram and Mrs Norris; ‘likes Fanny and I think foresees how it will all be’. Later she reported, ‘Henry is going on with Mansfield Park; he admires H. Crawford – I mean properly – as a clever, pleasant Man.’55
Jane Austen herself seems to have been particularly pleased with her third published novel, though many did not share her feelings. There were few reviews, which was disappointing. Perhaps to make up for this, she decided to take down her own notes of the opinions of her friends and families, in a sense anticipating the modern phenomenon of brief reader reviews on book websites. The fact that she copied down all the opinions of her family on Mansfield Park suggests that she thought it an especially important work. On the whole, it wasn’t a great favourite with them. Fanny was praised but Edmund deemed a failure. Mrs Norris was universally admired. Most preferred Pride and Prejudice.
But she was now looking beyond her family. The views of outsiders were highly encouraging. Mr Egerton the publisher ‘praised it for it’s Morality, and for being so equal a Composition. – No weak parts’. The Scottish Lady Kerr, who had greatly admired her previous novels, told her that Mansfield Park was ‘Universally admired in Edinburgh, by all the wise ones. – Indeed, I have not heard a single fault given to it.’ Best of all was a comment from a Mrs Carrick: ‘All who think deeply and feel much will give the Preference to Mansfield Park.’56
She had truly arrived as a professional writer, and she was loving it. Her simple pleasure in the act of writing is brought vividly alive by two of her Godmersham nieces, who recalled her at work. Louisa: ‘She was very absent indeed. She would sit awhile, then rub her hands, laugh to herself and run up to her room.’ And Marianne: ‘I … remember how Aunt Jane would sit quietly working beside the fire in the library, saying nothing for a good while, and then would suddenly burst out laughing, jump up and run across the room where pens and paper were lying, write something down, and then come back to the fire and go on quietly working as before.’57
Louisa also remembered Cassandra begging Jane Austen to change the ending of Mansfield Park and allow Henry Crawford to marry Fanny, but Aunt Jane stood firm and would not allow the change. This again suggests, as we know from The Watsons, that she planned the novels in her head beforehand. Much as she gave way to Cassandra in most things, she would not be swayed when it came to her novels. She knew how the book had to end, but she also knew that a good story will keep the reader guessing. Reporting to Cassandra on her brother Henry’s first reading of the manuscript, she noted with pleasure that he ‘has changed his mind as to foreseeing the end; – he said yesterday at least, that he defied anybody to say whether H.C. would be reformed, or would forget Fanny in a fortnight’.58
The little laptop desk had seen some heavy duty by now. From the small girl who had circulated manuscripts of her short stories, Jane Austen had grown up and begun to cut a figure in the literary world. But she was increasingly unhappy with Egerton. He had not given the opportunity to correct errors before bringing out the second edition of Pride and Prejudice. He was pricing her books too highly. The lack of reviews of Mansfield Park indicated his weakness in the marketing department. He was reluctant to publish a second edition of Mansfield Park. The Military Library of Whitehall would no longer do. She decided to cast her net a little wid
er.
17
The Royalty Cheque
It is the most ordinary but perhaps the most revealing of objects: a cheque for £38 18s 1d. According to the Bank of England’s historic inflation calculator, the modern equivalent would be about £3,200 or nearly $5,000. From the eighteenth century until the end of the twentieth, the signed cheque was the principal basis for the transfer of funds between the bank accounts of businesses and individuals. This one, dated 21 October 1816, bears two very famous names: the account holder is John Murray the second of Albemarle Street, publisher of Lord Byron, and the payee is ‘Miss Jane Austin’ (the spelling of names was casual in those days – the Austens were frequently referred to as Austins). This is a business transaction: between a prestigious publisher and a professional woman writer.1
At the start of 1814, with two published novels and one forthcoming (and one still with the publisher Crosby), Jane Austen began working on what would be her fourth published novel, Emma. She had written to her brother Frank the previous year to tell him that she no longer cared about keeping the secret of her authorship: ‘the truth is that the Secret has spread so far as to be scarcely the Shadow of a secret now – and that I beleive whenever the third [novel] appears, I shall not even attempt to tell Lies about it. – I shall rather try to make all the Money than all the Mystery I can of it. People shall pay for their Knowledge if I can make them.’2 As so often, her tongue is in her cheek. But her comment underlines how deadly serious she was to make as much money as possible from her books. She now established a routine for writing and was freed from much of the burden of housekeeping by her mother and sister – it was the least they could do, given the income her writing contributed to the Chawton household.
By November 1814, the first edition of Mansfield Park was sold out. Austen wrote to Fanny Knight:
You will be glad to hear that the first Edit[ion] of M.P. is all sold. Your Uncle Henry is rather wanting me to come to Town to settle about a second Edit[ion]:—but as I could not very conveniently leave home now, I have written him my Will and pleasure, and, unless he still urges it, shall not go. I am very greedy and want to make the most of it; but as you are much above caring about money, I shall not plague you with any particulars. The pleasures of Vanity are more within your comprehension, and you will enter into mine at receiving the praise which every now and then comes to me, through some channel or other.3
