I Was Jane Austen's Best Friend

by Cora Harrison

  ‘That’s boring,’ objected Jane. ‘In any case, the audience can see — even the back row, if there’s going to be one — can see that she’s fainted. Why should I say that? It isn’t interesting or funny, and it doesn’t tell anything new.’

  And then she clasped her hands together and shrieked, ‘ “Oh, my dear mistress, don’t faint to that side; that’s not your best side. Faint to the right and then you will be in a good position when the gentlemen come in.” That’s better, isn’t it, Jenny? Go on — say your bit again.’

  I said it, and it did sound much better this time, probably because I was trying not to laugh and that made my voice sound all quavery and when Jane said her lines then I collapsed in a heap, as elegantly as I could, but making sure that I was on my right side, and Henry clapped, sending a shower of green paint spots over his scenery.

  Today was a very busy day. Now it is night-time and Jane and I have brushed each other’s hair and we are here in our bedroom; Jane is on the bed with her writing desk balanced on her knee, reading from a book and scribbling on a piece of paper, and I am sitting at the washstand, writing in my journal. We have two candles in our room now. Jane asked her father whether we could and he immediately said yes, so Jane fetched another one without asking her mother.

  ‘We need two because I like to read and Jenny likes to write in her journal or draw,’ she said to her father. I felt very nervous because I think that my aunt, Mrs Austen, is someone who has rules, and that one of her rules is one candle for each bedroom. But Jane is right; we do need two candles.

  ‘What are you reading?’ I asked.

  ‘It’s a book about teaching people who can’t hear and can’t talk how to spell out letters using their fingers,’ she said briefly. ‘I found it in Father’s library. Look, it has pictures of how you make the shapes of the letters with your fingers and thumb. I was thinking that if I could teach George his letters, he could talk on his fingers. You see, I have tried and tried to teach him to talk, but he doesn’t seem able to learn.’

  I said I thought that if he learned his letters, then he could learn to read also — more to please her than anything else. I’m not sure that George, from what I have seen of him, would be able to read. I told Jane that I would help her teach him.

  Jane’s face lit up and she gave me a big smile. ‘Shall we start tomorrow?’

  I came across to her bed and peered over her shoulder.

  ‘The A looks a bit like an apple with a stalk standing up,’ I said. ‘We can start with that. We’ll bring him an apple so that he knows what it’s all about.’

  I was just going to put this journal away when I remembered that Mr Austen, when he heard about it, told me that I should write down my thoughts as well as the day’s events.

  Let me see …

  I suppose I’m thinking that it must have been sad for Mr and Mrs Austen to have a child like George, someone who will never grow into a man like James or Henry. And how Mrs Austen is so fond of James, and Mr Austen is so fond of Henry. I wonder … are they extra fond because they are comparing these two, who are so handsome and clever, with poor George? I wonder too if they ever feel sorry for George. He doesn’t seem very well looked after down in the village. I think he just shambles about all day. When I saw him he was not properly washed and his hair wasn’t combed. If he were well cared for, he would have a look of Charles. He has lovely eyes, and when he saw Jane, they lit up.

  And then I start to think about Henry. He is very nice. He paid me a lot of attention today. He admired my hair and how blonde it is. He praised my blue eyes and told me that they reminded him of sapphires. He told me that I am the perfect height, and that he doesn’t like girls who are too tall. When we rolled back the carpet in the evening and Mrs Austen played some tunes for country dances, Henry was my partner for all of them and Jane teased me about him.

  He looks so very handsome, with his black hair tied behind with a black velvet ribbon and his hazel eyes smiling at me, that I would love to draw a proper picture of him. From the first moment that he arrived, he has paid me attention.

  ‘Isn’t Jenny looking so much better?’ That was the first thing he said to his mother when we arrived back from Deane Gate Inn.

  ‘You were raving with fever when he saw you the last time.’ Jane made it sound very dramatic. ‘He was the one that carried you into the house. And he knelt by your bed and sobbed, “My own dear love, don’t you know me?” ’

  I felt myself getting as red as if I still had a fever, but Henry just laughed and pulled Jane’s dark curls. ‘Jenny was beautiful even then,’ he joked, and then both he and James went into the parlour to have some breakfast and we all followed to talk to them.

  ‘How’s the romance getting on in Jack and Alice?’ enquired Henry, while James told his mother all about Oxford. ‘You know about Jane’s novel, I suppose,’ he said to me. He probably just said it to include me, because everyone knows about Jane’s stories.

  ‘Well, Alice proposed to Charles and was rejected,’ said Jane thoughtfully. ‘Wait a minute and I’ll read you a bit.’ She dashed across to her little portable writing desk that her father gave to her for her fifteenth birthday. She took out her notebook and read aloud in a very dramatic way:

  ‘However, I was determined to make an end to the matter and therefore wrote him a very kind love letter, offering him with great tenderness my hand and heart. To this he returned an angry refusal, but thinking it might be rather the effect of his modesty than anything else, I wrote again offering my undying affection.’

  Henry was laughing and I giggled also. Jane was very good at imitating the style of the romances that she loved to read. I wondered what Henry would think of my journal and then I felt myself blush, despite myself. I wish I could learn not to blush. I am always doing it.

  Jane has just asked me what I was writing and when I told her it was about reading out to Henry about Alice, she tossed me over a piece of paper.

  ‘Here, you can stick that in your journal,’ she said.

  I read it through and raised my eyebrows. I told her I didn’t think that James would like the dedication. I believe he will think Jane is laughing at him, mentioning his two plays like that.

  The Visit

  A comedy in 2 acts

  Dedication.

  To James Austen Esq.

  Sir,

  The following Drama, which I humbly recommend to your Protection and Patronage, tho’ inferior to those celebrated Comedies called. ‘The Schoole for Jealousy’ & ‘The Travelled Man’, will I hope afford some amusement to so respectable a Scholar as yourself, which was the end in veiw when it was first composed by your Humble Servant the Author.

  ‘Well, Henry liked the dedication that I wrote for him. He said that he would pay me a hundred guineas.’ And Jane tossed me another piece of scrap paper.

  I asked her whether Henry did pay her a hundred guineas, but I laughed as I asked it and she just laughed as well. From what I’ve heard of Henry and his spendthrift habits he probably couldn’t spare a hundred pennies.

  To Henry Thomas Austen Esq.

  Sir

  I am now availing myself of the Liberty you have frequently honoured me with of dedicating one of my Novels to you. That it is unfinished, I greive, yet fear that from me, it will always remain so, that as far as it is carried, it should be so trifling and so unworthy of you, is another concern to

  Your obliged Humble Servant,

  The Author.

  Messrs Demand & Co. – please to pay the demand of Miss Jane Austen Spinster the sum of one hundred guineas on account of your Humble Servant.

  H.T. Austen

  105.0.0 pounds

  Sunday, 13 March 1791

  Yesterday was a wonderful day — the day of the supper dance.

  Let me see what I can remember about the Vyne. The house is very big and old-fashioned. Mr Austen told me that that sort of building with the timber beams showing is called Tudor.

  The house was full of gu
ests. The Lefroys and Portals and Terrys and Digweeds were there, as well as the Chutes, of course.

  When we went to take off our wraps and cloaks in Mrs Chute’s bedroom there were three sisters there and Jane introduced them to me. Their name was Bigg and Catherine was the same age as Cassandra, Elizabeth the same age as me, and Alethea the same age as Jane. All of them were dressed very fashionably in gowns of fine soft silk with a sheen. I’ve drawn a picture of the three of them here.

  ‘Jane!’ screamed Alethea when we came in. ‘I so wanted to see you. What’s this I hear about you nearly dying at boarding school?’

  ‘I was carried out of there unconscious,’ said Jane dramatically. ‘And so was Jenny. We were left for dead.’

  ‘I knew that!’ Alethea’s eyes were sparkling with excitement. ‘I kept asking Papa to bring me over to see you. I know all about it. Wait until you hear!’

  ‘What?’ asked Jane. I could see that she was excited. I almost felt a little jealous. It was obvious that Alethea and Jane were great friends. I took a few steps back and waited.

  ‘Have you heard what happened after you left?’ Elizabeth took part in the story.

  ‘It was a scandal,’ said Catherine to Cassandra. ‘Mrs Cawley didn’t want anyone to know, but then girl after girl took the fever and parents started rushing down to Southampton and removing their daughters by post-chaise.’

  ‘Maria Bertram wrote to Catherine,’ said Alethea.

  I said nothing. I remembered Maria and Julia and the insults that they heaped upon me. I remembered their sneers at my poor education and their peals of laughter when I couldn’t put together the jigsaw of the countries of Europe and how they had jeered at my lack of artistic knowledge.

  ‘Well, Maria wrote and told us everything,’ said Elizabeth, ‘and apparently Mrs Cawley had to close the school. Maria and Julia go to a very good school in Bath now.’

  ‘I like your new gowns,’ said Cassandra politely to Catherine. She obviously didn’t want to spend the evening talking about boarding schools.

  ‘We shouldn’t be wearing them really,’ said Catherine, ‘because they are intended for the Basingstoke Assembly Rooms ball next fortnight.’

  ‘But we begged and begged and in the end Mama said that we could as long as we made very sure to spill nothing,’ said Elizabeth primly.

  Alethea was whispering something in Jane’s ear. I could just hear the words, ‘Mama … Catherine …’ And then something about William Chute and then both Jane and Alethea collapsed into fits of giggles and I could see Jane whisper something back in Alethea’s ear. Under all the giggles I could only make out one word and that was ‘Cassandra’.

  ‘They’re made from sarsenet, you see,’ Elizabeth was saying, glancing down at the glossy material.

  ‘And they won’t wash,’ added Catherine.

  ‘So don’t you dare make me laugh when we’re at supper, Jane,’ threatened Alethea. I think she is the one that Jane likes the best. I liked her too as she seemed to be more fun than her sisters, even though I felt a little jealous that I was not part of the whispering and giggling.

  ‘The Biggs must be very rich to be able to afford silk for their girls,’ I whispered to Jane as we went out to the hall to greet Mrs Chute and her sons.

  ‘I don’t care for the colours too much though,’ Jane whispered back with a shrug, and I agreed with her. Catherine had a very bright purple, Elizabeth a strange shade of green and Alethea wore blue — but a very dark blue.

  ‘Muslin is nice when it’s new,’ said Catherine with a slightly disdainful glance at my gown.

  I felt embarrassed. My best gown is more than two years old. It still fits me because I haven’t grown at all in that time, but it has been in the washtub so often that it has a washed-out, limp appearance.

  ‘William Chute is here tonight,’ whispered Elizabeth to Jane. ‘He’s just back from a visit to London. I declare he gets handsomer and handsomer. They say that he doesn’t care for balls, only for hunting.’

  ‘I prefer Tom,’ said Jane bluntly. ‘Cassandra can have William.’

  Cassandra gave her a condescending smile and moved away to talk to Catherine. She wasn’t listening to Miss Bigg though. Her attention was on the door, and in a moment it was opened and Mr Austen and the boys came in. Cassandra moved towards them, and Tom Fowle’s face lit up with a big smile. I saw Mrs Austen’s eyes go suspiciously to the two of them, but Jane was by her side in a moment.

  ‘Mama, can’t we have some new gowns? These old muslins are as limp as a piece of lettuce, and mine’s far too short,’ whispered Jane in her mother’s ear. ‘Look at the way Elizabeth Bigg keeps twirling to show off the twill weave.’ Jane’s whisper was very loud, and Mrs Austen frowned at her as we went up to curtsy to Mrs Chute.

  There were only three of the Chute family — as well as Mrs Chute, I mean. Our host was William Chute, the man who sent me a donkey; he’s the eldest son, the squire. Jane keeps saying that he will die soon because he’s sickly and cross and then Tom Chute will be the heir to the estate and she will marry him.

  However, I think that’s just Jane having fun. William certainly didn’t look sickly or cross. He gave me a great welcome and smiled at me when I thanked him for the pretty little donkey, but mostly he just chatted away to Henry and Frank about hunting and about the rumour that a couple of highwaymen were hiding out in the woods outside Steventon. They seemed very excited about that and talked about getting up a party to get rid of these menaces to the stagecoaches.

  As well as William, there are Mary, who is older even than Cassandra, and Tom. At seventeen, he’s the youngest of the family.

  Tom is great fun. I’m not surprised that Jane likes him so well. All during the supper before the dance Mrs Austen and Mrs Chute were having a whispered conversation and Tom and Jane were imitating them, nodding their heads and pinching their lips and saying things like, ‘I would never have believed it’, ‘And after all I did for her!’ and ‘… in my own kitchen, too.’

  ‘What’s the joke, Jenny?’ Henry gave me a fright. Mrs Austen stopped whispering and turned round to look at me. Tom and Jane looked like a pair of owls, staring at me with round, serious eyes, and that made me want to giggle even more, especially as I overheard Jane saying to Tom, ‘Dear child — she has not been out in such exalted society as this before. She is very young …’

  ‘She’s thinking of how she’s going to play the piano for us in a minute,’ said William.

  ‘I — I don’t play the piano,’ I stammered, feeling quite alarmed, although I thought it pleasant of him to try to get me out of an embarrassing moment.

  ‘Let’s start the dance,’ said Henry. He looked across at me and smiled. I thought that no one in the world could smile like Henry. The smile starts at his mouth and lights up his whole face and then spreads to his bright hazel eyes, which become very soft and dreamy. His gaze lingered on me for a moment and then he turned his smile on to his mother and asked her to play the first dance. Apparently there was a servant in the kitchen with a fiddle who would play the rest of the tunes.

  And then, while Mrs Austen was exclaiming about how out-of-practice she was, Henry whispered across the table. ‘You’d like to dance, Jenny, wouldn’t you?’

  Henry is very good at getting his own way. In a minute, we were all in the long drawing room, where the furniture had been moved to the sides and the floor waxed to a high shine. I’m not sure how I managed to get from the dining room to the drawing room; I was so excited at the idea of dancing, especially with Henry. My legs felt weak, almost as though I were ill again. Henry took my hand, his skin feeling cool to my hot palm, and led me in and then went over to talk to his mother. There were two servants there with fiddles, but Mrs Austen, looking quite good-humoured, sat down at the piano.

  ‘Dance this one with me, Jenny,’ said Henry. He held out his hand and I took it. I couldn’t believe that he asked me first — before any of the Bigg girls or Mary Chute or anyone. My cheeks were bright red,
I know — I could even feel the lobes of my ears glowing. Jane was chatting to Tom Chute as if he were Charles or Frank and she didn’t blush at all. She mustn’t care anything for him, I thought.

  I had three dances with Henry, one with Frank, one with William Chute and then another one with Henry. Jane danced two dances with Harry Digweed, but after that she went back to Tom Chute and they danced together for most of the rest of the evening. Whenever I overheard them they were going on with their game of pretending to be two gossipy old ladies, saying things like, ‘Did you ever know such a thing?’ and ‘Wait till I tell you what she said’ every time they met and crossed hands in the dance.

  ‘Are you coming to the ball at the Assembly Rooms at Basingstoke Saturday fortnight?’ William asked me when I was dancing with him.

  I told him that would be up to Mr and Mrs Austen and then he said something rather nice.

  ‘Oh, Henry will make sure that you come! He told me that he was going, and I don’t think that he will want to go if you are not there to dance with him. Henry always wants to dance with the prettiest girl in the room.’

  I wondered if he was just being polite, or if he really did think that. I looked up at him doubtfully. Perhaps he was just joking. In my mind was always the memory of my sister-in-law, Augusta, saying to one of her friends, ‘Jenny is such a thoroughly unattractive girl, no manner, no style. I declare it embarrasses me to take her out with me. Only my duty to Edward-John persuades me to sacrifice my own comfort.’

  ‘Don’t you believe me?’ asked William as I looked at him uncertainly. ‘Prettiest girl in the room — you’ll be the belle of the ball at Basingstoke!’

  I must remember to tell Jane that I don’t think William is cross and sickly at all. I think he is very nice.

  After that I danced with Henry again for the last dance of the evening. I couldn’t think of anything to say. I wasn’t good at dancing and talking at the same time like Jane did with Tom Chute. Henry didn’t say anything either, just smiled at me and pressed my hands gently when we were doing the two-hand turn. I was glad that I didn’t have to talk. I was too busy looking at his face. There was something about the way that he looked at me with a half-smile that made my heart thump very fast. From time to time I thought of saying something to break the tension, but I didn’t. We stood up opposite Tom Fowle and Cassandra and they didn’t say anything either, just gazed into each other’s eyes. It was very romantic.