The city of Naples had surrendered, but Brindisi still held out. It was here that Charles Austen was employed in blockading the port as Captain of the Phœnix, with the Garland under his orders. After a short time negotiations were begun, and, without much serious fighting, he induced the garrison of the castle and the commanders of the two frigates in the port to hoist the white flag of the Bourbons, in place of the crimson and white on a blue ground which Joachim Murat had adopted. It is a matter of history how Murat, with a few followers, attempted to set up this flag again a few months later in Calabria, but was taken prisoner and shot. It is evident that his estrangement from Napoleon originated with the title of “King of Rome” being conferred on the boy born in 1811—a clear indication that the Emperor was no party to his schemes of uniting Italy. Whether or not the change of monarchs was a good one for the Neapolitan people, the restored kingdom of the Two Sicilies lasted until Garibaldi caused its complete collapse in 1860, and accomplished Murat’s ideal for Italy.
After this episode Captain Charles Austen was kept busy with Greek pirates in the Archipelago until the Phœnix was lost off Smyrna in 1816. He then returned to England.
There is an extract from one of his letters to Jane at this time, dated May 6, 1815, from Palermo, which shows something of the degree of popularity which her books had then attained. “Books became the subject of conversation, and I praised ‘Waverley’ highly, when a young man present observed that nothing had come out for years to be compared with ‘Pride and Prejudice,’ ‘Sense and Sensibility,’ &c. As I am sure you must be anxious to know the name of a person of so much taste, I shall tell you it is Fox, a nephew of the late Charles James Fox. That you may not be too much elated at this morsel of praise, I shall add that he did not appear to like ‘Mansfield Park’ so well as the two first, in which, however, I believe he is singular.”
JANE AUSTEN’S WORK-BOX, WITH HER LAST PIECE OF WORK
Early in 1816 Jane’s health began to fail, and she grew gradually weaker until she died, in July 1817. There is a letter from her to Charles, dated from Chawton on April 6, 1817, which is inscribed in his handwriting, “My last letter from dearest Jane.” It is full of courage, even through its weariness. Most of it relates to purely family matters, but the tenor of it all is the same—that of patient cheerfulness:
“My dearest Charles,—Many thanks for your affectionate letter. I was in your debt before, but I have really been too unwell the last fortnight to write anything that was not absolutely necessary.... There was no standing Mrs. Cooke’s affectionate way of speaking of your countenance, after her seeing you. God bless you all. Conclude me to be going on well, if you hear nothing to the contrary.
“Yours ever truly,
“J. A.
“Tell dear Harriet that whenever she wants me in her service again she must send a Hackney Chariot all the way for me, for I am not strong enough to travel any other way, and I hope Cassy will take care that it is a green one.”
Both Francis and Charles Austen were at home at the time of Jane’s death in 1817. In the May before she died she was prevailed upon to go to Winchester, to be under the care of Mr. Lyford, a favourite doctor in that part. She and Cassandra lived in College Street. She had always been fond of Winchester—in the true “Jane Austen spirit,” partly because her nephews were at school there—and her keen interest in her surroundings did not desert her even now, when she, and all around her, knew that she was dying. A set of verses, written only three days before her death, though of no great merit in themselves, have a value quite their own in showing that her unselfish courage and cheerfulness never failed her. Only a few hours after writing them she had a turn for the worse, and died early on the morning of July 18.