Jane Austen’s First Love (3 page)

During this speech, my sister and friends sat with lowered gazes over their work, but the look on their countenances echoed my own silent amusement and impatience.

My father, whose eyes conveyed similar feelings, adopted a grave expression, and said, “My dear, everything you say is true. It sounds to me as if you have talked yourself out of going.”

“Oh! But I want to go! My heart is set upon it!”

“Well then, if that is so—I cannot guarantee that your journey will be free of incident or mishap—but these are the risks you must be willing to take.”

My mother frowned, then let out a sigh. “All right, then.”

Thrilled, I cried, “Do you mean it? We can go? Oh, Mamma! Papa!”

“Jane,” interrupted my mother, “do not get too excited. Just because I have agreed to go to Kent, do not imagine that I will allow you or your brother to attend every party they mean to hold, particularly that ball.”

A crushing disappointment washed over me. “Not attend the ball? But Mamma—”

“Lady Bridges, it seems to me, has some very strange notions,” continued my mother. “To include
children
at such events—to allow one’s daughters such liberties before they are out—I know that
some
people do it, but I cannot approve. Girls should not mix with general company until they are of age.”

“Oh! Mamma!” Tears started in my eyes.

Cassandra, glancing at me, and seeming to gather her courage, said:

“You held me back in just such a way, Mamma, and I cannot think that it did me good.”

“Whatever can you mean?”

“I mean that—for a young lady to be immediately required on the day of coming out to be accomplished at everything, and to converse openly with strangers, when all the years before she was either kept at home or told never to speak—I found it very difficult, and would not wish the same for Jane.”

Silently, I cheered my sister’s remarks, and gave her a grateful look.

My mother looked very surprised. “Well, this is an opinion I have not heard from you before, Cassandra.”

“I never really questioned it before, Mamma; it is just the way things were. But looking back, I think it was too much to expect.”

My mother went quiet for a moment, as she seemed to turn over the matter in her mind. “What do you think, Mr. Austen?”

“Our daughter makes an excellent point,” responded he. “Although I still believe that seventeen is a better age to be introduced to society in general, I see no reason why someone of Jane’s or Charles’s age should not attend the events which Edward described. As for the ball, it is to be held at their house, not an assembly room, and is apparently to include only family and friends; therefore, how is it any different from the dances and parties we hold here at home, with our own family and neighbours?”

After some consideration, my mother nodded. “There is sense in what you say. I suppose we could make an exception, for this one visit to Kent.”

“Oh! Thank you!” I was delighted beyond expression.

“Now pick up your needle and thread, Jane,” continued my mother with resolution. “Some one ought to tell Charles that he is going on holiday with us in June; and if we are to finish all these clothes,
we
had best stop talking, and apply ourselves to our work.”

S
ince the arrival of Edward’s letter, hardly anything else was talked of or thought of other than our visit to Kent. Charles spoke so often and with such great excitement of every extraordinary thing which he expected to see and do there (conjuring Kent as a golden land of perfect beauty—a veritable Utopia), that the other schoolboys were soon fed up with him, and threatened to box his ears should he mention another word about it.

The next ten weeks were devoted to a fury of sewing and cleaning such as I had never before experienced in my life, for my mother insisted that if she was to turn over her house to Martha Lloyd to run, it should be nothing less than spotless.

An exchange of letters ensued between my brother Edward, Mr. Knight, Lady Bridges, and my mother and father, confirming all the offers made in Edward’s first letter, as well as the travel arrangements. My mother, sister, and I, with kind assistance on numerous occasions from Martha and Mary, completed Charles’s new clothes for the Naval Academy with such remarkable speed that when May arrived, we had time to pause and reflect upon our own wardrobes.

“Mamma,” said I over breakfast one morning, “what do you imagine the ladies will be wearing at Godmersham and Goodnestone? Will they be splendidly dressed?”

“I suppose they will,” replied my mother, as she thickly spread a piece of toast with butter and jam. “I shall never forget the elegance of Mrs. Knight’s gown when first I saw her all those years ago, nor her hat, which was the very height of fashion. I have no doubt the Bridges ladies will all be similarly attired.”

“What should we wear?” asked Cassandra, visibly concerned.

“Our gowns are all so old and worn.” I frowned into my dish of cocoa. “My green one in particular is so washed out as to appear almost gray.”

“I have always admired a gray gown,” commented my father from behind his newspaper.

“I owned a gray gown myself at your age,” said my mother, “a lovely dove gray it was, and very becoming.”

“Mamma!” I set down my cup in its saucer with a violent clink. “Papa! How can we attend all those parties and a ball, wearing our old gowns? We will be looked down on as the poor relations! At least my slippers are in good order, but I have mended my gloves so many times that the fingertips are merely strings.”

“Do not fret, Jane,” returned my mother. “I have given thought to the matter, and although we cannot afford new clothes, if we add some new ornaments to our present apparel, it will freshen them up. Your blue satin gown is still very pretty, and if we add a gold sash, it will do very well for this occasion. I have a piece of white lace from an old gown that will smarten it up even further—and there is a bit of satin ribbon in my work-bag which will be just the thing for your pink gown, Cassandra. We can trim up our best hats and bonnets as well.”

“That sounds lovely, Mamma,” responded my sister.

I nodded, for her ideas pleased me. “What about our hair?”

“Edward wrote that the Bridges ladies will powder theirs for the ball, so we must remember to bring pomatum and powder, Cassandra—we do not want to offend our hosts by appearing less than genteel.”

“Might I powder my hair for the ball as well?” said I hopefully.

“Jane!” My mother frowned at me. “You know better than to ask such a question. Hair powdering is a practice in which you may indulge only
after
you come out, and not one day before.”

I sighed. For nearly a month entire I should be in a circle of very fashionable people, many of whom were only a few years older than myself, but at the most formal event, I should appear like the merest child. Oh well, thought I with resignation, at least we were
going
to Kent, and
that
would be an adventure!

We followed my mother’s suggestions, adding such embellishments to our gowns as we could devise, so that in due order we all felt some semblance of pride in our wardrobe. A week before our departure, my father returned from Basingstoke with a surprise: he had purchased for each of us a new pair of gloves.

“You think to spoil us, Mr. Austen,” cried my mother, kissing him soundly.

Cassandra and I were profuse with our gratitude. He smiled and kissed me on the head, saying, “I could not think of you going with holes in your gloves, Jane.”

As we made the final preparations for our departure, my mother was in a panic, striving, for my father’s sake, to ensure that all would go smoothly in the household while we were gone; but after spending several days with Martha going over all the particulars, and witnessing that good woman’s skill, experience, and good-humoured attitude in managing such affairs, my mother’s anxieties were soon tamed.

The last days of busy activity passed away. On an evening in late May, Mr. Knight arrived as promised in his handsome coach, which was sizeable enough to accommodate all our party, and attended by several liveried servants. I had not seen Mr. Knight in many years, but he lived up to my remembrance as a well-dressed man of fifty-six with a kind smile who, although a bit stooped in stature, yet held himself with a regal bearing. According to the fashion, he wore a gracefully-styled, white powdered wig, like my father’s.

“Such a pleasure to see you, cousin. You are looking very well!” cried he, heartily shaking my father’s hand. After warmly greeting my mother and Charles, he turned to me and Cassandra, saying, “Who are these bewitching young ladies? How you have grown since last we met!” He proclaimed us both to be beauties, an utterance which, had it been made by a youthful rattle, I would have taken as disingenuous; but the look in his eyes was so sincere that I could only blush and laugh.

We were all delighted with Mr. Knight and passed a pleasant evening in his company, during which he and my parents were engrossed in conversation, going over all the minutiae of our lives during the past several years.

“From the moment my Catherine saw your son Edward,” said he to my mother and father, “age eleven I think he was, she fell in love with him, and insisted she must have him. I cannot express my gratitude to you both, for your generosity in allowing him to come to us. Since the very first day, he has been the sunshine in our lives.” Here Mr. Knight’s voice broke, and he wiped away a tear. “We count ourselves blessed by his presence.”

My parents’ eyes welled up as well; and for some time we all were too choked up to speak.

When my mother and I pressed Mr. Knight for information about Miss Elizabeth Bridges and her family, he only smiled and said she was a lovely young lady, and as for the rest of the Bridgeses, they were so numerous, and he felt so unequal to the task of describing them, that he would leave that information to his wife to impart, once we got to Kent.

The next morning, we all rose early to make ready for our departure. With great anticipation I watched our trunks being loaded on board the coach, and then climbed within to take my place beside Charles and Cassandra.

“We shall miss you, George,” Mr. Knight called out the window, “but I promise to take care of your wife and family as if they were my own.”

“I know you will,” agreed my father, “for you have done just so with our Edward; and we could not be happier or more grateful.”

As the vehicle pulled away, and we all waved at Papa one last time, my mother whispered tearfully, “Oh! This is very hard. I do not know what I was thinking, agreeing to go to Kent without your father! I dare say I shall miss him too much to enjoy a single minute of this holiday.”

For the sake of my mother, Mr. Knight planned a three-day journey, so as to spend less hours each day upon the road. Even so, the rigors of travel did not agree with her. Although the first day of our crossing was uneventful, the weather pleasantly cool, and the roads dry, Mamma felt unwell almost the whole way, and was obliged to eat some bread to settle her stomach, and to take bitters whenever we changed horses. The motion of the coach had a very different effect on my other companions, who fell promptly asleep.
I
was too excited to slumber, my mind occupied both with the prospects we passed by and all the delights which were before us.

On the second day, a heavy shower made the roads dirty and heavy. The rattle of the chaise caused my mother a violent headache and increased the sickness to which she was prone. Upon arrival at the Bull and George at Dartford, she went immediately to bed. Mr. Knight saw to it that the rest of us were well-fed with beef-steaks and boiled fowl; we slept reasonably well, and set off again early in the morning.

Although rain continued intermittently throughout the following day, we were fitted with a famous set of horses who took us speedily from Rochester to Sittingbourne. The final leg of our journey was accomplished with ease, and even my mother’s spirits seemed to revive as we traversed the green Kentish country-side, everyone eager to see those places towards which we were moving. We left the road, and soon crossed a bridge over a slow-moving river suffused with reeds and other vegetation, the length of which was gracefully lined with trees whose leafy limbs bent almost to the water’s edge. Moments later as we rounded a bend, I gained my first sight of Godmersham Park through the drizzle.

“Oh! Mr. Knight!” cried I. “Your house and park are very grand.”

My mother, sister, and Charles were equally enchanted. Green lawns spread in every direction as far as the eye could see, comprising an immense park studded with grazing sheep. Just as impressive was the house itself, a very large and handsome Palladian brick mansion which fronted a rise of wooded downland. The centre block of the building was flanked by two-storeyed wings on either side, and there were all the requisite windows, ornaments, and chimneys one could wish for, to provide a most pleasing aspect to the whole. Mr. Knight spoke with relish regarding the finer points of the house’s construction, including details about the masonry and ashlar window dressings, of which he was particularly fond.

“Is Edward really to inherit
all this
?” said Charles softly in my ear.

I nodded, and replied in a quiet voice, “This is just one of the many properties in Kent which belong to Mr. Knight. And you know he also owns another great house and an entire village not far from us, at Chawton.”

“I cannot imagine being so rich,” whispered Charles reverently.

Nor could I; but my heart beat with pride and pleasure for Edward and his good fortune. Soon after, we drove up to the house; as if by providence, the rain stopped, the front door opened, and a parade of servants emerged and lined up on the gravel sweep to greet us. The step of the coach was unfolded, the door opened, and when it came my turn to climb down, I caught sight of Edward and Mrs. Knight taking their place at the head of the line. My brother—with his slim but sturdy figure, dressed as he was in a dark, well-tailored coat, satin breeches, perfectly tied white cravat, and shiny black, buckled shoes—looked every bit the charming, aristocratic young gentleman.

“Welcome, Mamma.” Smiling broadly, he came forward to embrace her, and then greeted Mr. Knight and the rest of us in turn. “I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you all.”

Mrs. Knight was equally welcoming. A well-bred gentlewoman who still retained the beauty of her youth, her eyes were quick and intelligent, and her manners composed, friendly, and sincere. “We have so longed for you to visit,” said she, after we exchanged the appropriate courtesies. “I hope your journey was pleasant and free of incident?”

“The only pleasure it afforded me was its object,” said my mother wearily. “I have survived it as best I could, thanks in great part to the solicitous care of your good husband, and I confess I have never been more delighted to arrive anywhere.”

We were all glad, after such a journey, to be released from the confinement of a carriage, and ready to enjoy all the comforts that the house could provide.

Charles, Cassandra, and I looked on in speechless amazement as we entered the mansion. The high ceilings of the hall and drawing-room were splendidly decorated with intricate, white-painted plasterwork and carvings; white columns and other lavish embellishments surrounded the main doorways; and there were superb marble chimney-pieces. There was an excellent library in the east wing, which I looked forward to investigating further. My mother, who tended to find fault more often than to praise, was visibly moved by all she saw and keen to speak of it. We were all warm in our admiration, and I felt all of my brother Edward’s consequence; to be master of Godmersham, I thought, would be truly something!

“It is all so lovely,” said I to my sister when we were left on our own in our bedchamber, the yellow room, appropriately named for the warm colour of its paper and furnishings. “A week hardly seems long enough to explore the pleasures of this place.”

“True,” agreed she, “but the Bridgeses expect us soon at Goodnestone Park—which gives us something else to look forward to. I am sure their house will be very grand as well.”