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Edward Austen Knight

[Marianne] “’What have wealth or grandeur to do with happiness?’
‘Grandeur has but little,’ said Elinor, ‘but wealth has much to do with it.’‘Elinor, for shame!’ said Marianne; ‘money can only give happiness where there is nothing else to give it. Beyond a competence, it can afford no real satisfaction as far as mere self is concerned.’

‘Perhaps,’ said Elinor, smiling, ‘we may come to the same point. Your competence and my wealth are very much alike, I dare say; and without them, as the world goes now, we shall both agree that every kind of external comfort must be wanting. Your ideas are only more noble than mine. Come, what is your competence?’

‘About eighteen hundred or two thousand a year; not more than that.’

Elinor laughed. ‘Two thousand a year! One is my wealth! I guessed how it would end.’” – Jane Austen, Sense & Sensibility, volume 1, chapter 17

“To be above vulgar economy” … was one of Jane Austen’s express wishes, yet on the surface it would seem that her rich brother Edward contributed very little to Jane’s and her mother’s and sister’s notions of security. How was it that Edward’s fortunes were so very much above that of his family, and why did he not do more for his sisters and mother than provide them with a roof over their heads and a small annual sum?

Rev. George Austen presents his son, Edward, to Thomas Knight and family

Rev. George Austen presents his son, Edward, to Thomas Knight and family

Edward, third son of the family … became the favourite of some wealthy childless relatives of his father, the Thomas Knights. They met him as a 12-year-old when they visited the rectory at Steventon on their wedding journey. When they left, Edward accompanied them for the rest of the trip and subsequently went frequently for holidays at their estate. Eventually, when Edward was 16, they adopted him as their heir. – Janet Todd, Jane Austen in Context

The Austens must have been thrilled beyond belief when Thomas Knight, George’s rich, childless cousin, took an interest in Edward, his third son. The practice of childless couples in adopting an heir from a less fortunate branch of the family was not an uncommon one for wealthy relatives to take at the time. When Edward inherited his estates from his adopted father, he became richer than Mr. Darcy, earning £15,000 per year from his investments against Mr. Darcy’s £10,000 per year. Multiply this number by 50 and you have an approximate amount of how much income Edward enjoyed in today’s terms.

Godmersham Park

Godmersham Park

And yet, with such a rich brother, Jane and her sister and mother worried a great deal about money after the sudden death of Rev. George Austen in Bath in 1805. Three of the brothers rallied behind them. Edward’s initial pledge of £100 a year almost doubled his mother’s income of  £122 from a small South Seas fortune, and both Henry and Frank pledged £50 apiece per year to support their mother and sisters. Cassandra received a small income from Tom Fowle’s £1000, which he had bequeathed to her in his will.  Even so, the three women were forced to move in March to more affordable rented living quarters on Gay Street, and then to Southampton in 1806, where they, along with their friend Martha Lloyd, shared a house with Frank Austen and his new bride.

The move to the house in Castle Square, Southampton in 1807 brought much cheer to Jane. The house, she noted, was not in good repair but it had a large garden. Her accounts for 1807 show that from her allowance of £50 she spent £2.13.6 to hire a pianoforte.”- Soft and Loud, JASA

Panorama of Chawton

Panorama of Chawton

Edward finally came through for his mother and sisters. Four years after his father’s death, he refurbished Chawton Cottage and invited them to move in. It was in this cottage that Jane was at her most prolific, polishing off earlier versions of Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility and famously writing Mansfield Park, Emma, and Persuasion. In skimming through a variety of biographies, many authors treat Edward’s seeming parsimony with a hint of contempt. The Knights had a history of generosity towards their poorer Austen relatives. Thomas Knight, second cousin to Rev. George Austen, gave him two livings that were valued at £210 the year that Jane was born. At Steventon, the Austens also had land to farm, which was an important factor in their diet and maintaining their self-sufficiency. The Austens also took in boarding pupils, and by the time Rev. Austen retired , he was earning almost  £600 per year, the same amount that his eldest son, James, made towards the end of his life.

Jane, her sister and mother had fallen on hard times. Financially dependend on their families, they are forced to move in March to rented living quarters on Gay Street, and then to Southampton in 1806, where they, along with their friend martha Lloyd shared a house with Frank Austen and his new bride.
“The move to the house in Castle Square, Southampton in 1807 brought much cheer to Jane. The house, she noted, was not in good repair but it had a large garden. Her accounts for 1807 show that from her allowance of £50 she spent £2.13.6 to hire a pianoforte.” JASA Soft and Loud,
Finally, four years after his father’s death, Edward Austen Knight refurbished Chawton Cottage for his mother and sisters, and had them move in. The walled garden, designed by Edward Austen Knight on the advice of his sisters Jane and Cassandra, is being recreated to provide not only flowers but organically grown fruit, vegetables and herbs, some of which will be used in contemporary recipes to be prepared in the kitchens. The church where Jane’s mother and sister are buried sits halfway up the drive.(from Chawton site)There had always been generostiy from the Knights towards the Austens. .

Jane’s mother, Cassandra, who was related to the Leighs of Stoneleigh Abbey, placed a great hope that her rich childless brother, James Leigh-Perrot, would leave money to her eldest son James. While James Leigh-Perrot provided James with a clerical living and some supplementary cash, his property eventually went  not to James, but to his son, James Edward, who was Jane Austen’s biographer. James Leigh-Perrot left nothing to his sister Cassandra, even knowing that she lived on a small income. He might have supposed that her uber rich son, Edward, would take care of his mother, which, in a fashion he did. Why did Edward not contribute more to his mother and siblings?

This is mere conjecture on my part, but Edward did the best he could under the circumstances. Yes, he was rich beyond imagining, but his responsibilities were many and heavy. He inherited two large estates, which were the physical embodiment of his inheritance. The laws of primogentirue demanded that as the heir, he should keep everything intact, from the land, which provided the income, to the house and all the family heirlooms within it. The heir was merely a “keeper” of the estate and the family name, and his actions were proscribed. Edward was more a tenant than an owner, and he was duty bound to turn over his entire estate to his male heir. – The Country House, JASA.

Chawton Cottage

Chawton Cottage

Running these estates, with their attendant servants and necessary improvements, took an enormous, some would say crippling, amount of resources. In addition, Edward’s family was large. His first wife, Elizabeth, died after giving birth to their eleventh child. Add his seven brothers and sisters, his biological mother and adopted mother and her family, the Knight family, and the ever widening circle of nieces and nephews, and the even larger circle of aunts, uncles and cousins on both the biological and adopted sides, and you can imagine the pressures Edward must have felt all around.  Had he doled out what we would deem as adequate support to all the needy individuals in his extended family, Edward’s estate would soon have been frittered away.

Chawton House

Chawton House

One cannot fault Edward too much for moving prudently and cautiously, for he was obliged first to his immediate family and the need to provide for adequate dowries for his daughters and support for his younger sons. I do fault him for not helping Jane to repurchase her manuscript, Susan (renamed Northanger Abbey), for the measly sum of £10, so that she could pursue its publication, but for all we know she might have never applied to him for help.

I sometimes wonder if the Austen women were as destitute as people today conjecture. Unlike 90% of their countrymen, who rarely traveled outside of their immediate area, the Austens traveled frequently, visiting friends and relatives. They were able to keep two servants and supplement their diet with vegetables from their kitchen garden, and received an endless supply of milk from Edward’s cows. Jane secured a modest but extra income from her writing, and the three women lived off a yearly income of  £500 pounds, which was only  £100 less than Rev. George Austen earned, who had a family of eight to feed, in addition to his boarders. Jane’s eldest brother,  Rev. Frank Austen, managed to keep a carriage for his second wife on an income of  £600 per year. I am not saying that the three women were rich, by any means, for, like Elinor Dashwood, they lived frugally and prudently, but they did dine frequently with Edward and visited him over extensive periods of time at Godmersham Park, which must have been as luxurious an experience as any visit to a high end resort.

After Thomas Knight died, his widow, instead of waiting until her own death, handed over the family estates to Edward, who from 1798 lived the life of a country gentleman at Godmersham in Kent. When Mrs Knight herself died in 1812, Edward and his family, as stipulated in her will, took the name of ‘Knight’, prompting his eldest daughter Fanny (a favourite niece of Jane Austen’s) to write in her diary that now ‘we are therefore all Knights instead of dear old Austens How I hate it!!!!!’. Fanny’s aunt Jane wrote more calmly to her friend Martha Lloyd that ‘I must learn to make a better K.” – Janet Todd, Jane Austen in Context

Edward was the Austen's third oldest child

Edward was the Austen's third oldest child

More on the topic:

Gentle reader: In honor of JASNA’s annual meeting in Philadelphia this week, this blog, Austenprose, and Jane Austen Today will be devoting posts to Jane Austen and her siblings. Look for new links each day.

Gentle readers, Due to my pressing duties as companion to a terror terrier and my inability to keep my house clean and blog at the same time, I asked my coffee house companion, Kate, to read Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters by Ben H. Winters. The very fact that this book is offered on a site entitled Geeks of Doom speaks volumes. Here then is Kate’s review, which slithers with pithy insights. BEWARE! Those who purchase this fishy book, and who think that it is even remotely connected to Jane Austen’s genteel Regency tale, are bound to be DISAPPOINTED. If you are a sea monster afficionado, however, or a jaded cynic, you will be delighted.

“Mrs. Dashwood grasped a spare oar from its rigging, snapped it in twain upon her knee, and plunged the sharp, broken point into the gleaming, deep-set eye of the beast.”

sense and sensibility and sea monsters 2 With my book in hand, my local Starbucks barista, most likely in his late teens, offered the following commentary: “Wow! Is that like Pride and Prejudice and Zombies? I hear that, you know, people who love Jane Austen like really hate these books.” And then he went back to making cappuccinos.

I am a full quarter of the way through Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters, and I feel that it is time to stop. I feel this strongly. During my quarter-length romp with this fascinating adaptation of the classic novel, I have laughed out loud, rolled my eyes so far into the back of my head that it hurt a little, and felt myself transported back into my seventh grade life science class, encountering a phylum of vocabulary I long since forgot.

However, once the novelty of encountering Marianne, Elinor, and Mrs. Dashwood in their new Amazonian personages wore off, so did my desire to finish the book.

This is by no means Austen, but the names are familiar, and the plot vaguely reminds me of a book I once read by Jane Austen. Occasionally, a line from the classic favorite works its way into the prose, but it is hard to continue any kind of comparison to the original when Elinor’s and Marianne’s worth as prospective wives is no longer measured in dowries or feminine accomplishments, but rather in their stamina as swimmers, in their lung capacity, and in the strength of their calves.

danger at seaInstead of arranging picnics and dinners to encourage courtship, Sir John hosts “tiki dances, crawfish fries, and bonfires,” taking the necessary precautions to ensure the safety of his guests, including “drawing a large quadrangle upon the beach in an admixture of squid ink and whale blood.”

In a cataclysm referred to as the Alteration (the source of which, the book explains, is unknown), the creatures of the deep turn against all land-roving mammals with untiring vengeance. This is the event around which all of Sea Monster society revolves.

A hammerhead shark ate Mr. Dashwood, leaving the widow Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters destitute and thrown into the company of Sir John, his exotic and ominously quiet wife, and the octopus-faced Colonel Brandon. Our beloved Dashwood women live in constant fear of marauding sea mammals (and crustaceans), and all the lovely sensibility of the original novel is gone.

I first found the novel wildly amusing and cleverly written, and then I found it sad, because I didn’t care about the characters whom I had loved in Sense and Sensibility. I’m genuinely happy that they can swim well and that they are strong women, capable of defending themselves from demonic sea creatures, but I miss their unconditional love for each other and their genuine struggles to find happiness in a world not at war with the sea. But most of all, I miss courtships that don’t necessitate a discussion of flipper size and writhing facial tentacles.

2009-07-15-sense_seamonstersWhile I’ve stopped reading the book for now, there are a few mysteries in the plot (for example, how an octopus ended up on Colonel Brandon’s face) that I dwell on, and they very well could induce me to pick it up again.

My barista’s comment about the reactions of devoted Austen fans may be true. But I cannot find a reason to be upset about this very liberal adaptation. In fact, this book made me appreciate the original even more. But that could be because I’m just not thirteen anymore.

Review submitted by Kate after ingesting gallons of Mr. Starbucke’s DARKE & Mysterious Caffeinated LIQUIDS.


tentaclesIncredulous reader: Our rating for this book is five out of eight tentacles. After all, Jane did write 60% of this book, which you can purchase at this link.

Not yet completely horrified? David Itzkoff at Arts Beat points out a few discussion questions suggested in the book, which leave the reader with no small impression that Mr. Winter’s enormous literaSEA effort might well be the result of his quest for the almighty dollar:

2. In “Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters,” painful personal setbacks often occur at the same moment as sea-monster attacks, suggesting a metaphorical linkage of “monsters” with the pains of romantic disappointment; for example, Marianne is rebuffed by Willoughby at Hydra-Z precisely as the giant mutant lobsters are staging their mutiny. Have you ever been “attacked by giant lobsters,” either figuratively or literally?

5. Which would be worse: being eaten by a shark or consumed by the acidic stomach juice of a sand-shambling man-o’-war?

8. Have you ever been romantically involved with someone who turned out to be a sea witch?

10. Is Monsieur Pierre a symbol for something? Name three other well-known works of Western literature that feature orangutan valets. Are those characters also slain by pirates?

Is author Ben Winters into Sushi?

Is author Ben Winters into Sushi?

Other monsterly reviews on this blog:

The Geek Beat: More Sense and Sensibility and Less Sea Monsters

pollReading Twitter, some people are turned off by the modern approach to Emma 2009. Curious minds want to know what you thought of the first installment of this new Jane Austen novel adaptation with Romola Garai, Jonny Lee Miller and Michael Gambon. These are your choices:  a yawner, meh, loved it, and will have to wait and see. If you would like to share your thoughts, please leave a comment. Do you love the new film? Do you like it? Or are you sitting on the fence, waiting to see how the series will develop? Here’s my review of the film.

My dear Cassandra, Where shall I begin? Which of all my important nothings shall I tell you first? – Jane Austen, June 15, 1808

Cassandra Elizabeth AustenWhenever we catch sight of Jane Austen in recollections and letters, her sister Cassandra is usually not far away. Although the two spinster women were frequently separated by visits to their friends and relatives, they shared a bedroom all their lives and presumably each others’ thoughts and secrets. Cassandra was separated from the family in her crucial formative years as a baby. After her birth, Mrs. Austen breast fed her first daughter for three months before handing her over to a village woman to be cared for until she was 18 months of age. The Austens, it seemed, followed this unusual habit with all their children, which must have worked well for them, for all eight survived in an age when child mortality was high.

Cassandra's silhouette

Cassandra's silhouette

Two years after Cassandra’s birth, the Austens were blessed with a second daughter, Jane. Wherever Cassandra went, Jane followed. When 10-year-old Cassandra was sent off to boarding school in 1783, 8-year-old Jane demanded to go, refusing to be separated from her older sister…

…not because she was thought old enough to profit much by the instruction there imparted, but because she would have been miserable (at home) without her sister; her mother observing that ‘if Cassandra were going to have her head cut off, Jane would insist on sharing her fate. – Constance Hill, Jane Austen, Her Homes and Her Friends

Visits played an important part of Regency life and we have the frequent separations between Jane and Cassandra – who was often called to Godmarsham Park to help with her widowed brother Edward’s brood of children – to thank for their prolific correspondence. The letters between the two sisters reveal the intimate details of ordinary life, talking of purchasing ribbons and refashioning clothes or sending gifts. The sisters might well have written about more earth shattering events, but we shall never know, for Cassandra burnt or destroyed so much of Jane’s correspondence in 1843. The letters that do remain provide us with a glimpse into their relationship:

I saw some gauzes in a shop in Bath Street yesterday at only 4s. a yard, but they were not so good or so pretty as mine. Flowers are very much worn, and fruit is still more the thing. – 1799

and

I cannot possibly oblige you by not wearing my gown, because I have it made up on purpose to wear it a great deal, and as the discredit will be my own, I feel the less regret. You must learn to like it yourself and make it up at Godmersham. – 1800

Cassandra and Jane in Becoming Jane

Cassandra and Jane in Becoming Jane

After moving to Chawton Cottage, Cassandra and Mrs. Austen took over most of the duties of the house and garden, allowing Jane to capitalize on the most fruitful period of her writing. Once settled in a routine, she polished off earlier drafts of Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice, getting them published, and began to write new novels. The Austen women made do with very little, always economizing. Caroline Austenn, their niece, wrote, “The house was well furnished, and it was altogether a comfortable and ladylike establishment. Tho’ I believe the mean which supported it were but small.” In Chawton Cottage, Cassandra mourned the women’s lack of complete self-sufficiency, noting, “We have not even so much as a cow.” Chawton villagers recorded that “the Austen’s manservant would walk up to Chawton House each day accompanied by Cassandra’s dog “Link”, who would carry home the pail of milk in his mouth.” (Maggie Lane, p. 19). It is evident from the letter Jane sent to Cassandra in 1816, that she was grateful for Cassandra’s housekeeping activities:

It had been a busy week, and I wanted a few days quiet, and exemption from the thought and contrivances which any sort of company gives. I often wonder how you can find time for all you do, in addition to the care of the house; and how good Mrs West could have written such books and collected so many hard words, with all her family cares, is still more a matter of astonishment! Composition seems to me impossible, with a head full of joints of mutton and doses of rhubarb. – Jane Austen, Sept 8

A Times Online article describes Greta Scacchi’s portrayal as Cassandra in Miss Austen Regretsas a bedraggled bread baker, chicken plucker and general rural dogsbody.” But the fact was that without Cassandra’s physical, mental and emotional support, and her brothers’ contributions to their annual income, Jane would not have had the freedom to actively pursue her career as a writer.

Greta Scacchi as Cassandra reads Jane's letter

Greta Scacchi as Cassandra reads Jane's letter

An older Cassandra

An older Cassandra

After Jane died in Cassandra’s arms, one can only imagine how bereft the older sister must have felt for the remaining 28 years of her life. Like Elinor Dashwood, she held her emotions in check. When Cassandra’s short engagement to Thomas Fowle ended in tragedy, Jane worried over her sister’s restraint in grieving.  It is our tragedy that Cassandra chose not to follow a similar restraint in preserving Jane’s letters.  In 1843, Cassandra wrote on a bundle of Jane’s letters: “To be burned.” Of the letters that survived, her niece Caroline noted that a number had “portions cut out“.  How ironic that in the twilight of her life Cassandra destroyed the very letters that must have given her a great deal of comfort and made her laugh or cry, and that, for a very short while, brought her sister back to life during the long evening hours she spent alone.

Francis, Cassandra, Jane, and Charles were the Austen's youngest children.

Francis, Cassandra, Jane, and Charles were the Austen's youngest children.

More links about this topic:

Gentle reader: In honor of JASNA’s annual meeting in Philadelphia this week, this blog, Austenprose, and Jane Austen Today will be devoting posts to Jane Austen and her siblings. Look for new links each day.

“Riding Through the Ridings”: Random Sketches of Yorkshire Coaching Inns was written and illustrated in 1947 by Joseph Appleyard. An unpublished book, it has found a home online through his son, David. The illustrations fit so well with my recent posts for post boys and the postal mail, that I was eager to share them with you,with Mr. Appleyard’s kind permission.
The George Inn York Joseph Appleyard

The website contains the full transcript and most of the illustrations for “Riding through the Ridings”, whose foreword by Major J. Fairfax-Blakeborough M.C. is telling:
Post-Boys Joseph Appleyard

Some of us are old enough to have talked with the last of the drivers of stage coaches, with post-boys and quaint old ostlers, who could recall the music of the fast-trotting horses and the note on the guard’s horn. Such have heard at first hand of all the bustle there was when the four steaming horses were to be speedily changed, relieved by others standing in readiness for the next stage. More there are who remember the long rows of stables, loose-boxes, saddle rooms and post-boy’s quarters — unused and maybe derelict — in the spacious yards of the old coaching inns. These have also lived to see the end of coach-horse breeding in Yorkshire and the passing of the fairs in the country, at which hundreds of animals were yearly bought to horse the coaches in various parts of the country. Later, in pre-motor days, the best carriage-horses were sold in large numbers at these same Yorkshire fairs; to buyers from all over the world. The horse fairs as they declined, were the swan song of the long ranges of stabling, which were an essential adjunct and integral part of every coaching inn. All this formed the last remaining links with the spacious, leisurely, picturesque coaching-days.

Picking up the mail

Picking up the mail

Major Fairfax-Blakeboroughsums up the illustrations nicely:

The beautifully executed illustrations in this book are marked by their accuracy in technique and detail — no easy achievement in view of the distinctive dress, horse, harness and so forth, which belonged to those days and to a great extent passed with them. Contemporary literature is pregnant with references to the particular care and pride those who played their part in the coaching era took with regard to all these details and how the young sons of patrician families, did not consider their education complete until they could tool a four-in-hand and dress the part with such meticulous exactness that they were mistaken for professional coachmen. The fascinating illustration on the succeeding pages emphasise more than any other of the previous volumes dealing with the epoch, the poetry and romance surrounding it and the important part the old posting houses plated in the life of the nation and as the very hub of their own immediate area.

coach Horse, Joseph Appleyard 1947

coach Horse, Joseph Appleyard 1947

The site also offers a short biography of the artist (1908-1960), and contains photographs, published works, sketches, drawings, book illustrations and newspaper articles of his life and career.

Joe Appleyard attended local evening classes at Leeds School of Art where his fondness of animals gave rise to his interest in Romany and Circus life. He worked full time in window display and general advertising, and painted the scenery of Airedale, Wharfedale and Washburn Valleys in his spare time. Appleyard first began showing his paintings at the Leeds City Art Gallery in 1934, and by 1947 had exhibited over two hundred different works. He co-founded Otley Arts Club, and today his sketchbooks are in a permanent collection at Leeds Art Gallery. His St Leger and racehorse portraits and studies are in a permanent collection at Doncaster Art Gallery.

A light post horse, Joseph Appleyard

A light post horse, Joseph Appleyard

Joe Appleyard, Self portrait, age 26

Joe Appleyard, Self portrait, age 26

David Appleyard writes about designing a website for his father:

The Old Swan Hotel, Harrogate, has three large oil paintings on permanent display, now well restored to remove fifty years of nicotine. The nicotine would not have bothered Joe for he liked his Three Castles cigarettes and as his self-portrait shows political correctness was not an issue in those days! Some twelve years ago I tried to publish “Riding through the Ridings”. My efforts were unsuccessful and the project lay dormant until 1999 when I decided to “publish” it on the Internet. With access to Joe’s remarkably good records the site has grown and showcases more than 200 examples of his work as my tribute to a wonderful father and talented artist.

To see the rest of the illustrations and read the book, click on this link: Joseph Appleyard, Author or type http://www.josephappleyard.co.uk