Jane Austen

by Andrew Norman

  8

  Romance:­ Tom Lefroy and Edward Bridges

  In a letter to her sister Cassandra dated 9/10 January 1796, Jane, in her first sentence, mentions the fact that yesterday was Tom’s birthday. The ‘Tom’ referred to was Thomas Langlois Lefroy and it was, in fact, his 20th birthday – Jane having celebrated her 20th birthday in the previous month of December (1795).

  The Lefroy family, which was of Huguenot decent, had settled in Kent in the late sixteenth century. Tom’s father, Antony Peter Lefroy, was an army officer. He was not a wealthy man and his commission had been purchased for him by his maternal uncles of the name Langlois. Anthony was stationed in Ireland where, in 1765, he married Anne Gardiner, daughter of a local squire. The couple had ten children; Tom being the eldest of five sons.

  Jane Austen had first met Tom Lefroy in the autumn or winter of 1796 when he was staying with his uncle the Revd (Isaac Peter) George Lefroy and aunt Anne (née Bridges) at Ashe, a village 2 miles north of Steventon. The Revd George Lefroy was also indebted to his forebears for it was his uncle, the wealthy diplomat Benjamin Langlois, who had purchased for him his livings of Ashe and Compton, which he held in plurality.

  The Lefroys had arrived in Hampshire from Surrey in 1783 (when Jane Austen was only 8 years old). Mrs Lefroy was a philanthropist with a great interest in public health and social work. She also loved to host social events, and she and Jane became great friends, despite a disparity in their ages of twenty-six years. When Jane first met him, Tom Lefroy had just completed his law studies at Trinity College, Dublin – his great-uncle Benjamin Langlois having provided the funds for his education. Tom was shortly to enter Lincoln’s Inn, one of London’s four Inns of Court to which barristers belonged and from which they were called to the Bar. Jane’s introduction to Tom was an event which was to change her life, at first for better, and shortly afterwards, for worse.

  In her above-mentioned letter to Cassandra, Jane goes on to describe ‘an exceedingly good ball’ which she had attended the previous evening, and declares that she is almost afraid to tell her sister:

  how my Irish friend [Tom] and I behaved. Imagine to yourself everything most profligate and shocking in the way of dancing and sitting down together.

  Jane declares that she can expose [i.e. make a spectacle of] herself in this fashion only once more because Tom is due to leave the country very shortly.

  She assures Cassandra that Tom is a ‘very gentlemanlike, good looking, pleasant young man’. She had encountered him at three previous balls, but apart from this, they had not met. Jane now makes a very telling comment that Tom:

  … is so excessively laughed about [concerning] me at Ashe [Ashe Rectory – the home of the Lefroy family] that he is ashamed of coming to Steventon, and ran away when we called on Mrs [Anne] Lefroy a few days ago.

  Why, it may be asked, did the household at Ashe laugh excessively about Jane, and why was Tom so ashamed of coming to Steventon?

  Jane goes on to say that since the ball she has been visited by Tom and by his cousin George. George was aged 13 and Jane comments that he is ‘really well-behaved now’, implying that perhaps he had not been well-behaved on previous occasions! As for Tom, Jane declares that he has ‘but one fault’, which was that his morning coat was ‘a great deal too light’. Jane believed that Tom had chosen a coat that was light in colour deliberately, because he was imitating Tom Jones (the novelist Henry Fielding’s character in the book of that name) whom he greatly admired and who was wearing a white-coloured coat when he was wounded.

  A few days later, on 14 January 1796, Jane writes again to Cassandra. The following evening there was to be a gathering at Ashe:

  I look forward with great impatience to it, as I rather expect to receive an offer from my friend in the course of the evening. I shall refuse him however, unless he promises to give away his white Coat.

  The ‘offer’ clearly refers to an offer of marriage which Jane hopes to receive – undoubtedly from Tom Lefroy. For her, this is a most serious matter and yet, as is so often the case, she jokingly pretends that it is not.

  Jane’s letter to Cassandra is full of hope and expectation. She tells her sister that she is prepared to dispense with all her ‘other admirers’ and ‘even the kiss which C. Powlett [the Reverend Charles Powlett] wanted to give me, as I mean to confine myself in future to Mr Tom Lefroy, for whom I do not care sixpence’.

  This latter comment was, again, said tongue-in-cheek, for as will be seen, Jane cared for Tom a great deal. When she completes the letter the following day, however, she is in the depths of despair; all her hopes having been dashed, for after that gathering on Friday night at Ashe she would never see Tom Lefroy again. She writes, sorrowfully:

  At length the Day is come on which I am to flirt my last with Tom Lefroy, & when you receive this it will be over – My tears flow as I write, at the melancholy idea.

  Here, for once, Jane is unable to disguise her feelings by making light of the situation. So why had Tom left under such unhappy circumstances? The answer was given, many years later, by Caroline Austen (daughter of Jane’s eldest brother James, by his second wife Mary Lloyd) in a letter that she wrote to her brother James E. Austen-Leigh. (Caroline said that her remarks were based upon what her mother had told her).

  Mrs [Anne] Lefroy sent the gentleman [Tom Lefroy] off at the end of a very few weeks, that no more mischief might be done. If his love had continued a few more years, he might have sought her [Jane] out again – as he was [by] then making enough to marry on – but who can wonder that he did not?1

  On 17 November 1798 Jane told Cassandra of a conversation she had had with Mrs Lefroy in which, ‘of her nephew [Tom] she said nothing at all …’. In fact, Mrs Lefroy mentioned Tom’s name only once, but even when she did, Jane was ‘too proud to make any enquiries’. Afterwards, however, Jane learnt from her father that Tom ‘was gone back to London in [on] his way to Ireland, where he is called to the Bar and means to practise’.2(Tom had been called to the Irish Bar in the previous year, 1797, after which he practised law in Dublin).

  Caroline Austen declared that when Tom did finally marry (in 1799) it was to ‘an Irish lady – who certainly had the convenience of money …’. The lady referred to was Mary Paul, the sister of a friend of Tom’s from college, who would bear him nine children. Caroline also stated that there had never been an engagement between Tom and Jane.3 Helen Lefroy, in an article entitled Strangers which was published by the Jane Austen Society in 1982, begs to differ in respect of Mary Paul’s financial situation. ‘Mary,’ she said, ‘brought no great dowry to the marriage’. (Mary did, however, inherit the estate of Siversprings, County Wexford, on the unexpected death of her brother).4 In 1852, Tom Lefroy became Lord Chief Justice of Ireland – a post which he held until his retirement at the age of 91.

  Did Tom really intend to propose to Jane on that January evening in 1796, as she herself believed? If so, did Mrs Lefroy get wind of the fact, and was this why she packed him off to London in so summary a fashion? Whatever Mrs Lefroy and her husband, the Revd George Lefroy’s thoughts and feelings on the matter may have been, they were well aware of the importance of acting in accordance with the wishes of Tom’s family. Tom’s parents, for example, surely hoped that their son would find a person of a higher social status than Jane – the daughter of a humble schoolmaster turned clergyman – to marry. And had not the wealthy Benjamin Langlois (Tom’s great-uncle, to whom he was indebted for his education) purchased for Mrs Lefroy’s husband his living at Ashe? Certainly, it would be most unwise to risk offending either of these two parties.

  Perhaps Jane realised the predicament in which Mrs Lefroy found herself. In any event, she does not appear to have blamed Mrs Lefroy and the pair continued to be firm friends. Nevertheless, it is surely no coincidence that in Jane’s subsequent novels there can be found the theme of a rigid social class system, combined with interfering relatives or friends, being an impediment to the love and affection which two people f
eel for one another.

  When, on 5 September 1796, Jane writes to Cassandra describing how she has dined at Goodnestone Park near Canterbury in Kent – the home of the Bridges family – there are indications that she has become attracted to another would-be suitor. At Goodnestone, Jane opened a ball with (Brook) Edward Bridges, the fourth son of the family.5 (It will be remembered that in December 1791, Jane’s brother Edward had married Edward Bridges’ sister Elizabeth).

  The next reference by Jane to Edward Bridges comes on 27 August 1805, when she writes to Cassandra from Goodnestone Farm to say that Edward (who is now Curate of Goodnestone) has arrived, unexpectedly, for dinner. She says:

  It is impossible to do justice to the hospitality of his attentions towards me; he made a point of ordering toasted cheese for supper entirely on my account. We had a very agreeable evening.6

  When three years later, on 20 November 1808, Jane writes to Cassandra again, it is clear that the situation has completely changed. She says:

  Your news of Edw: Bridges was quite news, for I have had no letters from Wrotham [Kent, where Edward’s sister Harriot, [Harriet] who was married to its rector George Moore, lived] – I wish him [Edward] happy with all my heart, & hope his choice may turn out according to his own expectations, & beyond those of his Family – And I dare say it will. Marriage is a great Improver & in a similar situation Harriet [Foote] may be as amiable as Eleanor [Harriet’s sister]. – As to Money, that will come You may be sure, because they cannot do without it. – When you see him again, pray give him our Congratulations & best wishes.7

  Clearly, the ‘news’ to which Jane refers is the engagement of Edward Bridges – now Rector of Bonnington, Kent – to Harriet Foote. The following year, 1809, Edward and Harriet were duly married.

  On 26 October 1813 Jane, in a letter to Cassandra from Godmersham Park, clearly believed that Edward had made a bad match:

  We have had another of Edward Bridges’ Sunday visits. – I think the pleasantest part of his married Life, must be the Dinners & Breakfasts & Luncheons & Billiards that he gets in this way at Gm [Godmersham Park]. Poor Wretch! He is quite the Dregs of the Family as to luck.8

  Notes

  1.­ Letter from Caroline Austen to James E. Austen-Leigh, 1 April 1869, in R.W. Chapman, Jane Austen’s Letters to her Sister Cassandra, p. 57.

  2.­ Letter from Jane Austen to Cassandra Austen, 17 November 1798.

  3.­ James E. Austen-Leigh, A Memoir of Jane Austen, p. 186.

  4.­ Jane Austen Society, Collected Reports, 1982, p. 210.

  5.­ Letter from Jane Austen to Cassandra Austen, 5 September 1796.

  6.­ Letter from Jane Austen to Cassandra Austen, 27 August 1805.

  7.­ Letter from Jane Austen to Cassandra Austen, 20 November 1808.

  8.­ Letter from Jane Austen to Cassandra Austen, 26 October 1813.

  9

  Pride and Prejudice

  The novel began life as First Impressions (written by Jane between October 1796, when she was aged 21, and August 1797). It was revised in 1812, renamed Pride and Prejudice and published in January 1813 by Thomas Egerton.

  Mr Bennet and his wife have five daughters and it is Elizabeth, the second of them, who is the principal character in the story. Of the other daughters, Jane, the eldest, makes the acquaintance of a Mr Bingley who rents a neighbouring country house and Lydia meets army officer Mr Wickham of the local militia. The book begins with the famous line, ‘It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife’.

  There is an abundance of humour in the story, beginning in the very first chapter with Mrs Bennet telling Mr Bennet that he has no compassion on her ‘poor nerves’. To which he replies:

  You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration these twenty years at least.

  At a ball, Mr Bingley introduces the assembled company to Mr Darcy who:

  … soon drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien; and the report which was in general circulation within five minutes after his entrance, of his having ten thousand [pounds] a year.

  However:

  his manners gave a disgust which turned the tide of his popularity; for he was discovered to be proud, to be above his company, and above being pleased.

  This is Jane Austen laying down the acceptable standards of good manners by which a prospective husband should be judged. Meanwhile, Lydia pursues the officers of the local militia with gusto. ‘If we make haste, perhaps we may see something of Captain Carter before he goes’.

  Mr Bennet’s cousin and heir to the estate – which includes the abode of the Bennets (property in those days always descending through the male line) – is Mr Collins, a clergyman whose patroness is Lady Catherine de Bourgh, Darcy’s aunt. Collins is described as having originally possessed ‘great humility of manner’, but this was now ‘a good deal counteracted by the self-conceit of a weak head’. He declares admiringly that, ‘he had never in his life witnessed such behaviour in a person of rank – such affability and condescension, as he had himself experienced from Lady Catherine’.

  A favourite device of Jane Austen’s is to place her hero – e.g. Darcy – in the position of being wrongly accused of some misdemeanour. This is so in Pride and Prejudice, where Wickham confides to Elizabeth Bennet that Darcy had failed to honour a promise he made; the promise being that he would provide for Wickham after his father’s death. (Mr Darcy Senior being Wickham’s godfather).

  When Mr Collins makes a proposal of marriage to the unsuspecting Elizabeth, he gives his reasons for marrying as:

  … first, that I think it a right thing for every clergyman in easy circumstances to set the example of matrimony in his parish. Secondly, that I am convinced it will add very greatly to my happiness; and thirdly … that it is the particular advice and recommendation of the very noble lady whom I have the honour of calling patroness [i.e. Lady Catherine de Bourgh].

  Needless to say, Elizabeth summarily declines his offer. Elizabeth’s mother, who is extremely disappointed by her daughter’s decision, now gives her an ultimatum in regard to her refusal of Mr Collins. Upon this ultimatum Elizabeth’s father makes the following comment:

  An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents. – Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr Collins, and I will never see you again if you do.

  Mr Collins speaks in glowing terms about Lady Catherine’s home ‘Rosings’, and in sycophantic terms about the lady herself. When the Bennets are invited to ‘Rosings’ for a meal, he expresses the hope that ‘so many servants, and so splendid a dinner might not wholly overpower them’. As for their attire:

  I would advise you merely to put on whatever of your clothes is superior to the rest, there is no occasion for any thing more. Lady Catherine will not think the worse of you for being simply dressed. She likes to have the distinction of rank preserved.

  When the Bennets are introduced to Lady Catherine they find her to be a highly opinionated woman. Elizabeth, however, is not to be put down. When her ladyship expresses astonishment that the younger Bennet sisters are ‘out’ [i.e. have entered society] before the elder ones are married, Elizabeth argues that this was not a sufficient reason for the younger ones to be denied ‘their share of society and amusement’. When Lady Catherine tells Elizabeth that she will never play the pianoforte really well unless she practises more, even Darcy looks ‘a little ashamed of his aunt’s ill-breeding’. In other words, simply because Lady Catherine is who she is, this does not excuse her for being ill-mannered.

  Elizabeth shows a similar determination not to be intimidated, this time by Darcy who approaches the pianoforte as she is playing and singing:

  You mean to frighten me, Mr Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? But I will not be alarmed … There is a stubbornness about
me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me.

  Darcy falls in love with Elizabeth and tells her ‘how ardently I admire and love you’. He also declares that, ‘his sense of her [social] inferiority’ causes him to be apprehensive and anxious. This, to Elizabeth, is like a red rag to a bull:

  I might as well enquire why with so elegant a design of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character?

  Needless to say, Elizabeth refuses his proposal, just as previously she had refused the proposal of Mr Collins. However:

  the tumult of her mind was now painfully great. She knew not how to support herself, and from actual weakness sat down and cried for half an hour.

  In discussing marriage, Elizabeth gives the relationship between her father and mother, Mr and Mrs Bennet, as an example of the pitfalls which may be encountered on entering that state of union:

  Her father, captivated by youth and beauty, and that appearance of good humour which youth and beauty generally give, had married a woman whose weak understanding and illiberal mind, had very early in their marriage put an end to all [of his] real affection for her. Respect, esteem, and confidence, had vanished forever, and all his views of domestic happiness were overthrown.

  Meanwhile, Elizabeth’s sister Jane, who has formed a romantic attachment to Bingley, learns that the latter has gone to London and will not be returning for some time. When Elizabeth discovers that Darcy has ‘lately saved a friend’ from a young lady against whom he [Darcy] had ‘strong objections’, she guesses that this is a reference to Bingley and her sister Jane, and she is greatly distressed.