Ashton Dennis, a newly minted pseudonym. It is a name wittily designed to conceal and reveal her rage. Shortly before leaving Southampton in the spring of 1809, she sat down and composed a letter to the London publisher Crosby & Co. She had, after all, waited six years for a response concerning her manuscript. The tone is perfectly judged; she never abandons the outer boundaries of courtesy, but her intentions are lit with a blazing sense of injustice. Whatever anger she had stored up over the six-year wait was now poured out with finely tuned vitriol. She began with the deadly accurate narrative, followed by sly presumption, then boxed her enemy into a position of response—but never relinquished for a ladylike moment her sense of politesse. It was a letter worthy of Elizabeth Bennet in confrontation with Lady Catherine.

 

 

Wednesday 5 April 1809

Gentlemen

In the Spring of the year 1803 a MS Novel in 2 vol. Entitled Susan [Northanger Abbey] was sold to you by a Gentleman of the name of Seymour [Henry Austen’s lawyer] & the purchase money £10 Rec/d at the same time. Six years have since passed, & this work of which I avow myself the Authoress, has never to the best of my knowledge, appeared in print, tho’ an early publication was stipulated for at the time of Sale. I can only account for such an extraordinary circumstance by supposing the MS by some carelessness to have been lost; & if that was the case, am willing to supply You with another Copy if you are disposed to avail yourselves of it, & will engage for no further delay when it comes into your hands.—It will not be in my power from particular circumstances to command this Copy before the Month of August, but then, if you accept my proposal, you may depend on receiving it. Be so good as to send me a Line in answer, as soon as possible, as my stay in this place will not exceed a few days. Should no notice be taken of this Address, I shall feel myself at liberty to secure the publication of my work, by applying elsewhere. I am Gentlemen &c &c

MAD.—

Direct to M/rs Ashton Dennis

Post office, Southampton

It is impossible to miss the lightning bolts bouncing off the page. Jane Austen’s outrage can be understood by any contemporary writer who has been treated in a disrespectful way by a publisher. Her own express helplessness, and the fact that she fully understood that helplessness, makes the situation particularly poignant.

Her letter was coolly dealt with by the publisher, who claimed never to have promised an immediate publication. They countered her threat of finding another publisher with their own: In fact, they stated that they would be ready to block with legal action any such attempt she might make. And—a particularly cruel suggestion—they offered to sell her manuscript back to her for the original £10.

She had no such amount at her disposal (her entire budget for the preceding year had been £50). She had been, it would seem, defeated by the professional, alien world of publishing. But the MAD letter, and its reply, which might have further maddened her, instead produced a ripe satisfaction. She had made her feelings known at last, and she was about to move to Chawton Cottage, in the midst of her beloved Hampshire, to surroundings that were sympathetic and calm, a refuge no less, where she would begin once again, picking up her pen and going forward in her life.

17

IT WASN’T UNTIL July of 1809 that the Austen party moved into Chawton Cottage. Events might have moved along more quickly, but Mrs. Austen, now seventy, had suffered a series of setbacks in her health, and these caused delay after delay. Several family visits intervened—to James and Mary at Steventon and to the grieving Knight family at Godmersham. Meanwhile, Chawton Cottage was being made ready. Repairs were completed under the supervision of Jane’s brother Edward and included renovations to the water pump and back garden privy—which was all the family would have expected in the way of sanitation. Life at Chawton, as envisioned by the four women, was expected to be modest, even frugal. It was assumed that the family would grow and preserve some of their own food. They would exchange services with their neighbors, providing reading lessons for the village children in return for practical produce or labor. There would be no carriage for the ladies, but, in time, a donkey and donkey cart would become part of the Chawton household. Gentility, charm, order, and not extravagance, would rule the house.

Only one letter survives from Jane Austen’s archives between 1809 and 1811, the congratulatory letter in verse to her brother Francis.