On 27 March 1782 Eliza, now the Comtesse de Feuillide, wrote to Phylly to tell her more about Paris:
I have danced more this winter than in all the rest of my life put together. Indeed I am almost ashamed to say what a racketing life I have led … Paris has been remarkably gay this year on account of the birth of the Dauphin [the eldest son of King Louis XVI and Queen Marie Antoinette]. This event was celebrated by illuminations, fireworks, balls etc. The entertainment of the latter kind given at court was amazingly fine. The Court of France is at all times brilliant but on this occasion the magnificence was beyond conception.10
Sadly, the Dauphin lived for only one year. In that same year, at Phylly’s request, Eliza presented her with a miniature portrait of herself and a sample of her dark brown hair. On the back of the portrait were inscribed the words, Amoris et Amicitiae (‘Of Love and Friendship’).11
On 1 May 1783, Eliza tells Phylly how she has been to Longchamps, a monastery situated in the Bois de Boulogne where:
Devotion has given place to Vanity. Every Body now goes to Longchamps not to say their Prayers but to shew their fine Cloaths & fine Equipages … The number & magnificence of the Carriages are incredible.12
On 25 June 1786, while she and her mother Philadelphia were at Calais, en route from France to England, Eliza gave birth, prematurely, to a son, Hastings François Louis Henrie Eugènie – his first name being chosen to honour Eliza’s godfather, Warren Hastings. The three spent time in London where Eliza was accepted at Court, just as she had been in France. It was at Christmas time, 1786, that Eliza and her family travelled to Steventon and met Jane (then aged 11) and Cassandra for the first time.
At Steventon Eliza entertained the family with piano recitals, participated in the customary Austen family theatricals and gave an account of the French king, queen and court, and of the splendours of Versailles. She also described the daring achievements of Jean Pierre François Blanchard who, on 2 March 1784 – as she herself had witnessed – had soared high above the French capital in his hydrogen-filled balloon. He had ‘ascended to the height of 1500 fathoms & returned from thence in perfect health & safety to the astonishment of most of the Spectators’.13
James E. Austen-Leigh describes Eliza as ‘a clever woman and highly accomplished, after the French rather than the English mode’, and who could speak the French language perfectly.14 It appears that Eliza was determined that Jane should become equally fluent because on 16 December 1786, which was the occasion of Jane’s 11th birthday, she and her mother presented the young cousin with a copy of French children’s author Arnaud Berquin’s L’Ami des Enfants (a book which was designed to help British children learn French).
The outcome was, in the words of Anna Lefroy, that both Cassandra and Jane came to read French ‘easily’ and that ‘in these matters I think it probable they had very valuable assistance from their cousin … [Eliza] who was an extremely accomplished woman, not only for that day, but for any day’.15 And it was James E. Austen-Leigh’s opinion that Jane and Cassandra ‘may have been more indebted to this cousin than to Mrs La Tournelle’s [sic] teaching for the considerable knowledge of French which they possessed’.16
It was undoubtedly Eliza, also, who encouraged Jane to sing in French, one of Jane’s favourite songs being ‘a little French ditty’, the first two lines of which were:
Que j’aime à voir les Hirondelles
volent ma fenêtre tous les jours
Jane was clearly much taken with Eliza, for in 1790 she dedicated one of a series of letters, included in her novel Love and Freindship (her spelling), to the countess. (Eliza may have told Jane about the miniature portrait of herself which she had previously given to Phylly, and Jane may have chosen this title for her novel from the words which were inscribed on the back of it – in French, as previously mentioned). The letter was entitled, ‘Deceived in Freindship and Betrayed in Love’, and the dedication read:
To Madame la Comtesse
DE FEVILLIDE
this Novel is inscribed
by her obliged Humble
Servant The Author.
Notes
1. James E. Austen-Leigh, A Memoir of Jane Austen, p. 210, note 27.
2. William Austen-Leigh, Jane Austen: Her Life and Letters, p. 32.
3. Ibid., p. 10.
4. Ibid.
5. William Austen-Leigh, Jane Austen: Her Life and Letters, p. 35.
6. Deirdre Le Faye, Jane Austen’s ‘Outlandish Cousin’, (London: The British Library, 2002), p. 46.
7. Ibid., p. 88.
8. William Austen-Leigh, Jane Austen: Her Life and Letters, p. 37.
9. Ibid.
10. Le Faye, Jane Austen’s ‘Outlandish Cousin’, p. 54.
11. Ibid., p. 55.
12. Ibid., pp. 56–7.
13. Ibid., p. 60.
14. James E. Austen-Leigh, A Memoir of Jane Austen, p. 28.
15. Ibid., p. 183.
16. Ibid., p. 28.
6
Jane’s Juvenilia
A useful insight into the character of Jane Austen is gained from a study of the short pieces of fiction – known as her Juvenilia – which she wrote in her early years between 1787 when she was aged 12, and 1793 when she was aged 18. Some of these pieces are written in the form of novelettes. For example, Jack & Alice: a Novel, consists of nine chapters, and is fifteen pages (of modern type) in length. Despite the tenderness of her years, these works reveal her enormous talent as a writer in the making, with a sense of the ridiculous coupled with an ability to entertain and make her readers laugh with her ready wit. Also, her Juvenilia contains many of the themes which she would, one day, expand on in the great novels which made her famous, and the tension which is at the heart of such novels; that tension between, say, conventionality and spontaneity; licentiousness and morality; genuineness and humbug; true love and affectation.
In Frederic & Elfrida (also described by her as a ‘novel’, even though it was only seven pages in length), Jane shows early signs of elegance and style of writing while describing a walk taken
in a Grove of Poplars which led from the Parsonage to a verdant Lawn enamelled with a variety of variegated flowers & watered by a purling Stream brought from the valley of Tempé by a passage underground.
Love and Freindship, written in 1790, is described by Jane as ‘a novel in a series of Letters’. In it, she takes pleasure at poking fun at established conventions. In the first letter, Isabel congratulates Laura on attaining the ‘safe’ age of 55:
If a woman may ever be said to be in safety from the determined Perseverance of disagreeable Lovers and the cruel Persecutions of obstinate Fathers, surely it must be at such a time of life.
In the fourth letter, Laura writes to Marianne warning her of the dangers of life in big cities. Laura quotes Marianne’s mother who would often say:
Beware my Laura. Beware of the insipid Vanities and idle Dissipations of the Metropolis of England. Beware of the unmeaning Luxuries of Bath and the stinking fish of Southampton.
However, Marianne, who sees her mother as being over-protective of her, has other ideas:
‘Alas!’ exclaimed I. ‘How am I to avoid those evils I shall never be exposed to? What probability is there of my ever tasting the Dissipations of London, the Luxuries of Bath, or the stinking Fish of Southampton? I whom [who] am doomed to waste my Days of Youth and Beauty in an humble Cottage in the Vale of Uske.’ Ah! little did I then think I was ordained so soon to quit that humble Cottage for the Deceitful Pleasures of the World.
In The History of England from the Reign of Henry 4th to the Death of Charles 1st (1791), by ‘a partial, prejudiced, and ignorant Historian’, Jane demonstrates not only her knowledge of English history, but also that she is able to write about it in an amusing way. (This work by Jane is, in fact, a parody of a serious work in four volumes entitled History of England by Oliver Goldsmith). It is also clear that as far as characters and conflicts are concerned, she kno
ws exactly whose, or which side she is on:
Henry 4th ascended the throne of England, much to his own satisfaction, in the year 1399, after having prevailed on his cousin and predecessor Richard 2nd, to resign it to him, and to retire for the rest of his life, to Pomfret Castle, where he happened to be murdered.
During the reign of Henry V, ‘Lord Cobham was burnt alive, but I forget what for,’ says Jane. As for Henry VI, Jane has little good to say about him on the grounds that he was a Lancastrian; whereas the Duke of York ‘was of the right side’. She then admits to her ‘Hatred to all those people whose parties or principles do not suit with mine’.
In Henry VIII, Jane declares ‘Anna Bullen’ (Anne Boleyn) to be an:
amiable Woman [who] was entirely innocent of the Crimes with which she was accused, and of which her Beauty, her Elegance, and her Sprightliness were sufficient proofs, not to mention her solemn protestations of innocence, the weakness of the Charges against her, and the king’s character.
Henry’s action in ‘abolishing Religious Houses and leaving them to the ruinous depredations of time’, had been ‘of infinite use to the landscape of England in general, which probably was a principal motive for him doing it’.
As for King James I, Jane is ‘necessitated to say’ that in his reign the Roman Catholics ‘did not behave like Gentlemen to the Protestants’. As she herself is partial to the Roman Catholic religion, she regrets that for this, she is obliged to blame the King (who was a member of the Roman Catholic Church).
Jane concludes that her principal reason for undertaking The History of England was to prove the innocence of Mary, Queen of Scots, ‘and to abuse [Queen] Elizabeth’.
In Jane’s novel Catharine, we find her pretending – as ‘Miss Austen’ – to be the patron of the works Cassandra and The History of England, rather than the author of them. The author writes to Miss Austen in gratitude for her patronage, telling her that both these books, through her generous support, had ‘obtained a place in every library in the Kingdom, and run through three score Editions’. She, therefore, takes the liberty
of begging the same Exertions in favour of the following Novel, which I humbly flatter myself, possesses Merit, beyond any already published, or that will ever in future appear, except such as may proceed from the pen of Your Most Grateful Humble Servt.
The author encloses a copy of her new work Catharine for Miss Austen’s kind perusal. Catherine is an orphan who was brought up by a maiden aunt in a way which is immediately ridiculed. This aunt,
while she tenderly loved her [Catharine], watched over her conduct with so scrutinising severity as to make it very doubtful to many people, and to Catharine among the rest, whether she loved her or not.
The result was that Catharine was:
deprived of a real pleasure through this jealous Caution … to the extent of being prevented from going to balls because a certain officer was to be there, or [of being required] to dance with a partner of her aunt’s choice, rather than one of her own. [However] her Spirits were naturally good and not easily depressed, and she possessed such a fund of vivacity and good humour as could only be damped by some serious vexation.
Reading between the lines, this is Jane telling her readers that despite all obstacles, Catherine’s great strength of character, derived from her inner resourcefulness, will prevail.
When a Mr and Mrs Stanley arrive, Catharine is pleased because this will ‘relieve the dullness of the constant tête-à-tête with her Aunt’. Accompanying the Stanleys is their daughter Miss Camilla Stanley, for whom the past twelve years have been dedicated ‘to the acquirement of Accomplishments which were now to be displayed, and in a few Years, entirely neglected’. The author of the novel is scornful of Camilla, declaring that:
… those Years which ought to have been in the attainment of useful knowledge and Mental Improvement, had been all bestowed in learning Drawing, Italian and Music, more especially the latter, and she now united to these Accomplishments, an Understanding unimproved by reading and a Mind totally devoid either of Taste or Judgement. Her temper was by Nature good, but unassisted by reflection, she had neither patience under Disappointment, nor could sacrifice her own inclinations to promote the happiness of others. All her Ideas were towards the Elegance of her appearance, the fashion of her dress, and the Admiration she wished them to excite. She professed a love of Books without Reading, was Lively without Wit, and generally good humoured without Merit.
In other words, Camilla had wasted all the opportunities for betterment which had been presented to her.
Later in the story, Catharine (‘Kitty’) is seen by her aunt in the company of a young man called Edward Stanley, who suddenly seizes hold of her hand, presses it ‘passionately to his lips’, and runs ‘out of the arbour [Aunt’s garden]’. At this, the aunt has an apoplectic fit. Was this to be her reward, she asks, ‘for all the cares I have taken in your Education; for all my troubles & Anxieties; and Heaven knows how many there have been!’ Why, had she not brought her niece up virtuously, purchased for her Blair’s Sermons, and Coeleb’s In Search of a Wife; given her the key to her own library? All her aunt can say is that if Catharine feels shame for what she has done, is really sorry for it, and lives a future life of ‘penitence and reformation’, then perhaps she may be forgiven. ‘I plainly see,’ says her aunt, ‘that every thing is going to sixes & sevens and all order will soon be at an end throughout the Kingdom.’
Here is Jane ridiculing the excessively pious and inflexible attitude of the aunt who, with her puritanical attitude, has no sense of humour, no sense of fun, and is absolutely determined to stand in the way of Catharine’s future happiness.
In A Collection of Letters, Jane begins the first letter by putting herself in the position of a mother writing to a friend. As the children’s first ‘entrée into Life’, the mother proposes to take them to tea with a Mrs Cope and her daughter. This will be followed by a week of further social engagements, including a private concert. ‘How they will bear so much dissipation I cannot imagine,’ she says.
Prior to the arrival of the carriage which is to convey them to Mrs Cope, the mother declares to her daughters that the moment has now arrived,
when I am to reap the rewards of all my Anxieties and Labours towards you during your Education. You are this evening to enter a World in which you will meet many wonderfull [sic] things; yet let me warn you against suffering yourselves to be meanly swayed by the follies and vices of others …
However, her expectations are such that she says:
I can have nothing to fear from you – and can chearfully conduct you to Mrs Cope’s without a fear of you being seduced by her Example or contaminated by her Follies.
Such is the excitement that when they reach ‘Warleigh’ (the home of the Copes), ‘poor Augusta could scarcely breathe, while Margaret was all Life and Rapture … The long-expected Moment is now arrived (said she) and we shall soon be in the World.’ Here, Jane is obviously poking fun at the importance which parents attached to the prospect of their daughters’ ‘coming out’ (entering society), and equally, to the daughters’ exaggerated response to it.
In the second letter, Jane informs her friend Sophia that her (Jane’s) husband had just been killed while fighting for his country in America, soon after which their three children had fallen sick and died. This was followed by the death of her father. To this Sophia replies:
Oh! My dear Miss Jane [she called herself ‘Miss’ in order to keep her marriage a secret from her disapproving father], how infinitely I am obliged to you for so entertaining a story! You cannot think how it has diverted me! But have you quite done?
To which the answer is no; for Jane goes on to say that her late husband Henry’s elder brother has also died. ‘Did you ever hear a story more pathetic?’ asks Sophia. ‘I never did’, replies Jane, ‘And it is for that reason it pleases me so much, for when one is unhappy nothing is so delightful to one’s sensations as to hear of equal misery’. Here is Jane
, showing an insight into a common facet of human nature – being consoled in one’s misfortunes, by the misfortunes of others.
The fourth letter deals with the subjects of friendship and happiness. When its young lady-writer asks Miss Grenville – who has recently arrived in Essex – whether she finds that county equal to the one which she has just left (Suffolk), the reply is: ‘Much superior, Ma’am, in point of Beauty’. To which the young lady retorts: ‘But the face of any Country however beautiful … can be but a poor consolation for the loss of one’s dearest Friends’. Miss Grenville then declares that, ‘Perfect Felicity is not the property of Mortals, and no one has a right to expect uninterrupted Happiness’.
In the fifth letter Jane’s wit bubbles up to the surface again when Musgrove, cousin of Lady Scudamore, has harsh words to say against the laws of England, which allow uncles and aunts to remain in possession of their estates when their nephews and nieces are anxious to inherit them. If you were in the House of Commons [as a Member of Parliament], says he, ‘you might reform the Legislature and rectify all its abuses’.
In her Juvenilia, Jane challenges existing conventions as any young person might, and brings the full power of her wit and invective to bear on that of which she disapproves; her humour even extending to serious topics such as death and bereavement.
In 1787, when she was aged only 12, Jane did something which can only be described as precocious, by making the following entries of her own in the Steventon Parish Register of Marriages. First, fantasising about her own future marriage, she proclaims:
The banns of marriage between Henry Frederic Howard Fitzwilliam of London and Jane Austen of Steventon.
Jane Austen Page 4
