Jane Austen's Sailor Brothers - J. H. Hubback (novels for students txt) 📗
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This brought his sister upon him.
“‘Oh, Frederick! But I cannot believe it of you. All idle refinement! Women may be as comfortable on board as in the best house in England. I believe I have lived as much on board as most women, and I know nothing superior to the accommodation of a man-of-war. I declare I have not a comfort or an indulgence about me, even at Kellynch Hall’ (with a kind bow to Anne), ‘beyond what I always had in most of the ships I have lived in, and they have been five altogether.’
“‘Nothing to the purpose,’ replied her brother. “You were living with your husband, and were the only woman on board.’
“‘But you, yourself, brought Mrs. Harville, her sister, her cousin, and the three children round from Portsmouth to Plymouth. Where was this superfine, extraordinary sort of gallantry of yours then?’
“‘All merged in my friendship, Sophia. I would assist any brother officer’s wife that I could, and I would bring anything of Harville’s from the world’s end, if he wanted it. But do not imagine that I did not feel it an evil, in itself.’
“‘Depend upon it, they were all perfectly comfortable.’
I might not like them the better for that, perhaps. Such a number of women and children have no right to be comfortable on board.’
“‘My dear Frederick, you are talking quite idly. Pray, what would become of us poor sailors’ wives, who often want to be conveyed to one port or another, after our husbands, if everybody had your feelings.
“‘My feelings you see did not prevent my taking Mrs. Harville and all her family to Plymouth.’
“‘But I hate to hear you talking so like a fine gentleman, and as if women were all fine ladies, instead of rational creatures. We none of us expect to be in smooth water all our days.’
“‘Ah, my dear,’ said the Admiral, ‘when he has got a wife he will sing a different tune. When he is married, if we have the good luck to live to another war, we shall see him do as you and I, and a great many others, have done. We shall have him very thankful to anybody that will bring him his wife.’
“‘Ay, that we shall.’
“‘Now I have done,’ cried Captain Wentworth. ‘When once married people begin to attack me with—“Oh, you will think very differently when you are married,” I can only say, “No, I shall not,” and then they say again, “Yes, you will,” and there is an end of it.’
“He got up and moved away.
“‘What a great traveller you must have been, ma’am,’ said Mrs. Musgrove to Mrs. Croft.
“‘Pretty well, ma’am, in the fifteen years of my marriage, though many women have done more. I have crossed the Atlantic four times, and have been once to the East Indies and back again, and only once; besides being in different places about hotne: Cork, and Lisbon, and Gibraltar. But I never went beyond the Straits, and was never in the West Indies. We do not call Bermuda or Bahama, you know, the West Indies.’
“Mrs. Musgrove had not a word to say in dissent: she could not accuse herself of having ever called them anything in the whole course of her life.
“‘And I do assure you, ma’am,’ pursued Mrs. Croft, ‘that nothing can exceed the accommodations of a man-of-war. I speak, you know, of the higher rates. When you come to a frigate, of course you are more confined; though any reasonable woman may be perfectly happy in one of them; and I can safely say that the happiest part of my life has been spent on board a ship. While we were together, you know, there was nothing to be feared. Thank God! I have always been blessed with excellent health, and no climate disagrees with me. The only time that I ever really suffered in body and mind, the only time that I ever fancied myself unwell, or had any ideas of danger, was the winter that I passed by myself at Deal, when the Admiral (Captain Croft then) was in the North Seas. I lived in perpetual fright at that time, and had all manner of imaginary complaints from not knowing what to do with myself, or when I should hear from him next; but as long as we could be together, nothing ever ailed me, and I never met with the smallest inconvenience.’
“‘Ay, to be sure. Yes. indeed, oh yes. I am quite of your opinion, Mrs. Croft,’ was Mrs. Musgrove’s hearty answer. ‘There is nothing so bad as a separation. I am quite of your opinion. I know what it is, for Mr. Musgrove always attends the assizes, and I am so glad when they are over, and he is safe back again.’”
IN the letter quoted in the last chapter, we hear how Henry let out the secret of Jane’s authorship. She has also something to say to Cassandra about the matter. “Lady Robert Kerr is delighted with P. and P., and really was so, as I understand, before she knew who wrote it, for, of course she knows now. He (Henry) told her with as much satisfaction as if it were my wish. He did not tell me this, but he told Fanny.” Perhaps the pleasure that she gained in hearing how people enjoyed her books partly made up for the annoyance of having her wishes for secrecy forgotten. She goes on: “And Mr. Hastings, I am quite delighted with what such a man writes about it. Henry sent him the books after his return from Daylesford, but you will hear the letter too.” This is tantalising for those who cannot hear the letter too, and still more so when she adds later on: “I long to have you hear Mr. H.‘s opinion of P. and P. His admiring my Elizabeth so much is particularly welcome to me.”
The interest of Warren Hastings in the Austen family was a long-standing one. Hastings’ only son was brought up under the care of Jane’s father and mother at Steventon. When he died, in early manhood, the grief of Mrs. Austen was as great as if she had lost one of her own children. Probably they were entrusted with the care of this boy through the influence of George Austen’s sister, who was married to Dr. Hancock, of Calcutta, a close friend of Warren Hastings. Their daughter, Eliza Hancock, after losing her first husband, a French count, under the guillotine in the Reign of Terror, married Henry Austen. She died in 1813, and Henry’s loss was a subject of much concern in the family. We can see this from Jane’s letters at the time to Cassandra, and in the one to Frank quoted at length in the last chapter, where she expresses her belief that Henry’s mind is not “a mind for affliction.”
Frank got home from the Baltic early in 1814. We hear of him in June trying to arrange for a visit to his mother. Jane writes: “I heard yesterday from Frank. When he began his letter he hoped to be here on Monday, but before it was ended he had been told that the naval review would not take place till Friday, which would probably occasion him some delay, as he cannot get some necessary business of his own attended to while Portsmouth is in such a bustle.” Her books seem to have become more and more of a family interest. Mentions of them come in constantly in the midst of all the family gossip. “Sweet amiable Frank, why does he have a cold too? Like Captain Mirvan to Mr. Duval. ‘I wish it well over with him.’ Thank you very much for the sight of dearest Charles’s letter to yourself. How pleasant and naturally he writes, and how perfect a picture of his disposition and feeling his style conveys! Poor fellow! Not a present! I have a great mind to send him all the twelve copies (of “Emma”), which were to have been dispersed among my near connections, beginning with the Prince Regent and ending with Countess Morley.” The mention of Miss Burney’s “Evelina”is characteristic. It was one of her favourite books.
On Frank’s return he naturally wishes to settle somewhere with his wife and family after so many years afloat, but he did not at once find the sort of home he wanted. He occupied Chawton Great House for a few years, but this was oniy a temporary arrangement. It must be one of the chief pleasures of a novelist to bestow upon her characters all the blessings which she would like to portion out to her friends. Perhaps it was something of this feeling which induced Jane to draw the ideal home of a naval man in “Persuasion.” Certainly in tastes and feelings there is much similarity between Harville and Frank Austen.
“Captain Harville had taken his present house for half a year; his taste, and his health, and his fortune, all directing him to a residence unexpensive, and by the sea; and the grandeur of the country, and the retirement of Lyme in the winter, appeared exactly adapted to Captain Benwick’s state of mind. Nothing could be more pleasant than their desire of considering the whole party as friends of their own, because the friends of Captain Wentworth, or more kindly hospitable than their entreaties for their all promising to dine with them. The dinner, already ordered at the inn, was at last, though unwillingly, accepted as an excuse, but they seemed almost hurt that Captain Wentworth should have brought such a party to Lyme, without considering it as a thing of course that they should dine with them.
“There was so much attachment to Captain Wentworth in all this, and such a bewitching charm in a degree of hospitality so uncommon, so unlike the usual style of give-and-take invitations, and dinners of formality and display, that Anne felt her spirits not likely to be benefited by an increasing acquaintance among his brother officers. ‘These would all have been my friends,’ was her thought, and she had to struggle against a great tendency to lowness.
“On quitting the Cobb they all went indoors with their new friends, and found rooms so small as none but those who invite from the heart could think capable of accommodating so many. Anne had a moment’s astonishment on the subject herself, but it was soon lost in the pleasant feelings which sprang from the sight of all the ingenious contrivances and nice arrangements of Captain Harville to turn the actual space to the best possible account, to supply the deficiencies of lodging-house furniture, and defend the windows and doors against the winter storms to be expected. The varieties in the fitting up of the rooms, where the common necessaries provided by the owner, in the common indifferent plight, were contrasted with some few articles of a rare species of wood, excellently worked up, and with something curious and valuable from all the distant countries Captain Harville had visited, were more than amusing to Anne; connected as it all was with his profession, the fruit of its labours, the effect of its influence on his habits, the picture of repose and domestic happiness it presented, made it to her a something more or less than gratification.
“Captain Harville was no reader; but he had contrived excellent accommodations, and fashioned very pretty shelves, for a tolerable collection of well-bound volumes, the property of Captain Benwick. His lameness prevented him from taking much exercise; but a mind of usefulness and ingenuity seemed to furnish him with constant employment within. He drew, he varnished, he carpentered, he glued; he made toys for the children;
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