All these excitements, and the constant changes in the pay of officers, must have been watched with interest by the Austen family, whom they touched so nearly. Jane certainly understood the best type of naval officer, and had no little admiration and affection for him.
The officers in her novels may easily be divided into two sorts, they are the officers of the old school, of which Admiral Crawford, in Mansfield Park, to whom his nephew and niece were indebted for their bringing up, is a prominent example. Here is the aforesaid niece’s account of the type, when Edmund Bertram asks her whether she has not a large acquaintance in the navy. “‘Among admirals, large enough, but,’ with an air of grandeur, ‘we know very little of the inferior ranks. Post captains may be very good sort of men, but they do not belong to us. Of various admirals I could tell you a great deal; of them and their flags, and the gradation of their pay, and their bickerings and jealousies. But in general, I can assure you that they are all passed over and all very ill-used. Certainly my home at my uncle’s brought me acquainted with a circle of admirals. Of Rears and Vices I saw enough. Now, do not be suspecting me of a pun, I entreat.’”
Mr. Price, Fanny’s father, who is in the Marines, with his noise, and his oaths, and his coarseness and ill-temper, is a terrible revelation to his gentle daughter.
On the other side of the scale we may set Admiral Croft in Persuasion, a polished and delightful man, “rear-admiral of the white. He was in the Trafalgar action, and has been in the East Indies since; he has been stationed there, I believe, several years.”
The younger generation of sailors is represented charmingly in the novels from Fanny’s admirable, straightforward, single-minded brother William, who, when he came to Mansfield Park shortly after getting promoted to his lieutenancy, “would have been delighted to show his uniform there too, had not cruel custom prohibited its appearance except on duty. So the uniform remained at Portsmouth, and Edmund conjectured that before Fanny had any chance of seeing it, all its own freshness, and all the freshness of its wearer’s feelings must be worn away; for what can be more unbecoming or more worthless than the uniform of a lieutenant who has been a lieutenant a year or two, and sees others made commanders before him.”
Captain Wentworth, Anne’s lover, who had been treated so cruelly in deference to the wishes of her family, is gallant, handsome, charming, a man of the world, without having lost his freshness, and a man who has won his way and yet been unspoiled by flattery; he is one of the best of Jane Austen’s heroes.
CHAPTER XII BATH
At the end of 1800, Mr. Austen made up his mind to put his son James into the rectory at Steventon as locum tenens, and himself retire to live at Bath. In those days parents were not quite so communicative to their children as they are now; many things were decided without being discussed in full family conclave, as propriety dictates at present, and the change of plan does not seem to have been mooted to the girls at all, so that, “coming in one day from a walk, as they entered the room their mother greeted them with the intelligence: ‘Well, girls, it is all settled. We have decided to leave Steventon and go to Bath.’ To Jane, who had been from home, and who had not heard much before about the matter, it was such a shock that she fainted away ... she loved the country, and her delight in natural scenery was such that she would sometimes say it must form one of the delights of heaven.” (From Family MSS. quoted by Constance Hill, in Jane Austen, Her Homes and Her Friends.)
The break up of the home of one’s childhood is no trifling matter, and it often carries with it removal from many friends and neighbours whose society has become an integral part of life. It is no wonder that the blow was severe, yet Jane was of a cheerful disposition, a disposition that could make its own happiness anywhere, and it was not long before she entered with alacrity into all the needful preparations.
She wrote not long after, “I get more and more reconciled to the idea of our removal. We have lived long enough in this neighbourhood; the Basingstoke balls are certainly on the decline; there is something interesting in the bustle of going away, and the prospect of spending future summers by the sea or in Wales is very delightful. For a time we shall now possess many of the advantages which I have often thought of with envy in the wives of sailors or soldiers. It must not be generally known, however, that I am not sacrificing a great deal in quitting the country, or I can expect to inspire no tender interest in those we leave behind.”