Read Complete Works of Jane Austen Online
Authors: Jane Austen
After a great deal of indifferent cooking and anxious suspense, however, they were obliged to sit down without their guest. Tom Musgrave never came; and Margaret was at no pains to conceal her vexation under the disappointment, or repress the peevishness of her temper. The peace of the party for the remainder of that day and the whole of the next, which comprised the length of Robert’s and Jane’s visit, was continually invaded by her fretful displeasure and querulous attacks. Elizabeth was the usual object of both. Margaret had just respect enough for her brother’s and sister’s opinion to behave properly by them, but Elizabeth and the maids could never do anything right; and Emma, whom she seemed no longer to think about, found the continuance of the gentle voice beyond her calculation short. Eager to be as little among them as possible, Emma was delighted with the alternative of sitting above with her father, and warmly entreated to be his constant companion each evening; and as Elizabeth loved company of any kind too well not to prefer being below at all risks; as she had rather talk of Croydon with Jane, with every interruption of Margaret’s perverseness, than sit with only her father, who frequently could not endure talking at all, — the affair was so settled, as soon as she could be persuaded to believe it no sacrifice on her sister’s part. To Emma, the change was most acceptable and delightful. Her father, if ill, required little more than gentleness and silence, and being a man of sense and education, was, if able to converse, a welcome companion. In his chamber Emma was at peace from the dreadful mortifications of unequal society and family discord; from the immediate endurance of hard-hearted prosperity, low-minded conceit, and wrong-headed folly, engrafted on an untoward disposition. She still suffered from them in the contemplation of their existence, in memory and in prospect; but for the moment, she ceased to be tortured by their effects. She was at leisure; she could read and think, though her situation was hardly such as to make reflection very soothing. The evils arising from the loss of her uncle were neither trifling nor likely to lessen; and when thought had been freely indulged, in contrasting the past and the present, the employment of mind and dissipation of unpleasant ideas which only reading could produce made her thankfully turn to a book.
The change in her home, society, and style of life, in consequence of the death of one friend and the imprudence of another, had indeed been striking. From being the first object of hope and solicitude to an uncle who had formed her mind with the care of a parent, and of tenderness to an aunt whose amiable temper had delighted to give her every indulgence; from being the life and spirit of a house where all had been comfort and elegance, and the expected heiress of an easy independence, she was become of importance to no one, — a burden on those whose affections she could not expect, an addition in a house already overstocked, surrounded by inferior minds, with little chance of domestic comfort, and as little hope of future support. It was well for her that she was naturally cheerful, for the change had been such as might have plunged weak spirits in despondence.
She was very much pressed by Robert and Jane to return with them to Croydon, and had some difficulty in getting a refusal accepted, as they thought too highly of their own kindness and situation to suppose the offer could appear in a less advantageous light to anybody else. Elizabeth gave them her interest, though evidently against her own, in privately urging Emma to go.
“You do not know what you refuse, Emma,” said she, “nor what you have to bear at home. I would advise you by all means to accept the invitation; there is always something lively going on at Croydon. You will be in company almost every day, and Robert and Jane will be very kind to you. As for me, I shall be no worse off without you than I have been used to be; but poor Margaret’s disagreeable ways are new to you, and they would vex you more than you think for, if you stay at home.”
Emma was of course uninfluenced, except to greater esteem for Elizabeth, by such representations, and the visitors departed without her.
According to Austen-Leigh’s Memoir, this is how Austen intended the The Watsons to conclude:
“When the author’s sister, Cassandra, showed the manuscript of this work to some of her nieces, she also told them something of the intended story; for with this dear sister — though, I believe, with no one else — Jane seems to have talked freely of any work that she might have in hand. Mr. Watson was soon to die; and Emma to become dependent for a home on her narrow-minded sister-in-law and brother. She was to decline an offer of marriage from Lord Osborne, and much of the interest of the tale was to arise from Lady Osborne’s love for Mr. Howard, and his counter affection for Emma, whom he was finally to marry.”
Austen was working on the novel
Sanditon
when she died in 1817; she completed twelve chapters of the book before her early death. It was believed within the Austen family that the author had intended to title the text ‘The Brothers’ after the Parker siblings. The existence of the unfinished novel was first made known when James Edward Austen-Leigh included extracts from the work in the second edition of his biography
A
Memoir of Jane Austen,
published in 1871. However, it was not until 1925 that the entire fragment was published by R. W. Chapman. The manuscript remained within the Austen family until 1930 when Mary Isabella Lefroy, who was the granddaughter of Austen’s niece Anna Lefroy, gave the manuscript to King’s College Cambridge.
There have been a variety of books released which have attempted to finish or continue the narrative, including
A Return to Sanditon: a completion of Jane Austen’s fragment
by Anne Toledo and
Jane Austen Out of the Blue
by Donald Measham. There is also a modern web series adaptation of the uncompleted work called
Welcome to Sanditon
, which is set in California and debuted in May 2013.
The fragment begins with Mr and Mrs Parker falling out of their carriage, close to the Heywood family home. Due to Mr Parker’s injuries he and his wife stay with the Heywood’s, where he often talks with a great love and admiration of his home town Sanditon. He excitedly informs them that this small town is now becoming a fashionable resort and invites the eldest Heywood daughter, Charlotte, to stay with him and wife this summer. The narrative then moves to Sanditon, where Charlotte encounters the vibrant and energetic townspeople, who speak of little else besides the fortunes of the town, although there is a noticeable divide between their words regarding the prospects of Sanditon and the material reality. Austen explores the power of language and the idea and importance of communication in projecting a certain ideal.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
A gentleman and a lady travelling from Tunbridge towards that part of the Sussex coast which lies between Hastings and Eastbourne, being induced by business to quit the high road and attempt a very rough lane, were overturned in toiling up its long ascent, half rock, half sand. The accident happened just beyond the only gentleman’s house near the lane — a house which their driver, on being first required to take that direction, had conceived to be necessarily their object and had with most unwilling looks been constrained to pass by. He had grumbled and shaken his shoulders and pitied and cut his horses so sharply that he might have been open to the suspicion of overturning them on purpose (especially as the carriage was not his master’s own) if the road had not indisputably become worse than before, as soon as the premises of the said house were left behind — expressing with a most portentous countenance that, beyond it, no wheels but cart wheels could safely proceed. The severity of the fall was broken by their slow pace and the narrowness of the lane; and the gentleman having scrambled out and helped out his companion, they neither of them at first felt more than shaken and bruised. But the gentleman had, in the course of the extrication, sprained his foot — and soon becoming sensible of it, was obliged in a few moments to cut short both his remonstrances to the driver and his congratulations to his wife and himself — and sit down on the bank, unable to stand.
“There is something wrong here,” said he, putting his hand to his ankle. “But never mind, my dear—” looking up at her with a smile, “it could not have happened, you know, in a better place — Good out of evil. The very thing perhaps to be wished for. We shall soon get relief.
There,
I fancy, lies my cure—” pointing to the neat-looking end of a cottage, which was seen romantically situated among wood on a high eminence at some little distance—”Does not
that
promise to be the very place?”
His wife fervently hoped it was; but stood, terrified and anxious, neither able to do or suggest anything, and receiving her first real comfort from the sight of several persons now coming to their assistance. The accident had been discerned from a hayfield adjoining the house they had passed. And the persons who approached were a well-looking, hale, gentlemanlike man, of middle age, the proprietor of the place, who happened to be among his haymakers at the time, and three or four of the ablest of them summoned to attend their master — to say nothing of all the rest of the field — men, women and children, not very far off.
Mr. Heywood, such was the name of the said proprietor, advanced with a very civil salutation, much concern for the accident, some surprise at anybody’s attempting that road in a carriage, and ready offers of assistance. His courtesies were received with good breeding and gratitude, and while one or two of the men lent their help to the driver in getting the carriage upright again, the traveller said, “You are extremely obliging, sir, and I take you at your word. The injury to my leg is, I dare say, very trifling. But it is always best in these cases, you know, to have a surgeon’s opinion without loss of time; and as the road does not seem in a favourable state for my getting up to his house myself, I will thank you to send off one of these good people for the surgeon.”
“The surgeon, sir!” exclaimed Mr. Heywood. “I am afraid you will find no surgeon at hand here, but I dare say we shall do very well without him.”
“Nay sir, if
he
is not in the way, his partner will do just as well, or rather better. I would rather see his partner. Indeed I would prefer the attendance of his partner. One of these good people can be with him in three minutes, I am sure. I need not ask whether I see the house,” (looking towards the cottage) “for excepting your own, we have passed none in this place which can be the abode of a gentleman.”
Mr. Heywood looked very much astonished, and replied: “What, sir! Are you expecting to find a surgeon in that cottage? We have neither surgeon nor partner in the parish, I assure you.”
“Excuse me, sir,” replied the other. “I am sorry to have the appearance of contradicting you, but from the extent of the parish or some other cause you may not be aware of the fact. Stay. Can I be mistaken in the place? Am I not in Willingden? Is not this Willingden?”
“Yes, sir, this is certainly Willingden.”
“Then, sir, I can bring proof of your having a surgeon in the parish, whether you may know it or not. Here, sir,” (taking out his pocket book) “if you will do me the favor of casting your eye over these advertisements which I cut out myself from the
Morning Post
and the
Kentish Gazette
, only yesterday morning in London, I think you will be convinced that I am not speaking at random. You will find in it an advertisement of the dissolution of a partnership in the medical line in your own parish — extensive business, undeniable character respectable references wishing to form a separate establishment. You will find it at full length, sir,” — offering the two little oblong extracts.
“Sir,” said Mr. Heywood with a good humoured smile, “if you were to show me all the newspapers that are printed in one week throughout the kingdom, you would not persuade me of there being a surgeon in Willingden,” said Mr. Heywood with a good-humoured smile. “Having lived here ever since I was born, man and boy fifty-seven years, I think I must have known of such a person. At least I may venture to say that he has not much business. To be sure, if gentlemen were to be often attempting this lane in post-chaises, it might not be a bad speculation for a surgeon to get a house at the top of the hill. But as to that cottage, I can assure you, sir, that it is in fact, in spite of its spruce air at this distance, as indifferent a double tenement as any in the parish, and that my shepherd lives at one end and three old women at the other.”
He took the pieces of paper as he spoke, and, having looked them over, added, “I believe I can explain it, sir. Your mistake
is
in the place. There are two Willingdens in this country. And your advertisement refers to the other, which is Great Willingden or Willingden Abbots, and lies seven miles off on the other side of Battle — quite down in the Weald. And
we,
sir,” he added, speaking rather proudly, “are not in the Weald.”