Juvenilia of Jane Austen

These are the juvenile works that she kept in her adult life in three volumes of notebooks, called Volume the First and so on. Most of these below are the complete works, but in a few cases it was too long to node on E2 so I've just given a summary.

Amelia Webster

A comic tale by Jane Austen in Volume the First, the collection of juvenilia she preserved, which she had written between the ages of 12 and 18. Amelia Webster is in the form of letters, a common genre at the time (and one she was later to try more seriously in Love and Freindship and Lady Susan), but as usual with Jane, completely taking the piss out of the convention. Amelia and her girlfriend write tiny letters and cut off abruptly when there is no room left on the paper. One lover proposes a secret tryst for their letters in a hollow oak (obliging his lady to walk many miles); another is a secret admirer - through a telescope. They all end happily married after these little seven letters of intrigue.

Amelia Webster

an interesting and well written Tale
is dedicated by Permission
to
Mrs Austen
by
Her humble Servant
The Author



Letter the first
To Miss Webster

My dear Amelia

You will rejoice to hear of the return of my amiable Brother from abroad. He arrived on Thursday, and never did I see a finer form, save that of your sincere freind

Matilda Hervey


Letter the 2d
To H. Beverley Esquire

Dear Beverley

I arrived here last Thursday and met with a hearty reception from my Father, Mother and Sisters. The latter are both fine Girls--particularly Maud, who I think would suit you as a Wife well enough. What say you to this? She will have two thousand Pounds and as much more as you can get. If you don't marry her you will mortally offend

George Hervey


Letter the 3d
To Miss Hervey

Dear Maud

Beleive me I'm happy to hear of your Brother's arrival. I have a thousand things to tell you, but my paper will only permit me to add that I am yr affect Freind

Amelia Webster


Letter the 4th
To Miss S. Hervey

Dear Sally

I have found a very convenient old hollow oak to put our Letters in; for you know we have long maintained a private Correspondence. It is about a mile from my House and seven from yours. You may perhaps imagine that I might have made choice of a tree which would have divided the Distance more equally--I was sensible of this at the time, but as I considered that the walk would be of benefit to you in your weak and uncertain state of Health, I preferred it to one nearer your House, and am yr faithfull

Benjamin Bar


Letter the 5th
To Miss Hervey

Dear Maud

I write now to inform you that I did not stop at your house in my way to Bath last Monday.--I have many things to inform you of besides; but my Paper reminds me of concluding; and beleive me yr ever &c.

Amelia Webster


Letter the 6th
To Miss Webster

Saturday

Madam

An humble Admirer now addresses you.--I saw you lovely Fair one as you passed on Monday last, before our House in your way to Bath. I saw you thro' a telescope, and was so struck by your Charms that from that time to this I have not tasted human food.

George Hervey


Letter the 7th
To Jack

As I was this morning at Breakfast the Newspaper was brought me, and in the list of Marriages I read the following.

'George Hervey Esqre to Miss Amelia Webster.'
'Henry Beverley Esqre to Miss Hervey'
&
'Benjamin Bar Esqre to Miss Sarah Hervey'.
yours, Tom

Finis

Edgar and Emma

One of the comic juvenilia of Jane Austen, from Volume the First, one of three volumes she preserved, and which were written between the ages of 12 and 18. It is very conventional in tone, with little of the manic excess Jane Austen often used in her younger productions. The parody of the genre, that is, or more subtly drawn.

Of the three chapters, Sir Godfrey and Lady Marlow spend the entire first one arguing about where to live. When they finally arrive at their Sussex retreat they are so overjoyed to be there that they order bells to be rung, and order the bell-ringers to be given ninepence. I am sure this sum must be comically minute to be distributed.

In the second chapter a poorer but extremely numerous family descend on them, among whom is supposed to be the hero Edgar, who is impatiently awaited by the Marlow daughter Emma. She is afflicted by horrible emotions when he does not show, and in the final chapter publicly demands an explanation. On hearing the whereabouts of all the other children she "retiring to her own room, continued in tears the remainder of her life."

And now here it is in full.


Edgar and Emma

A Tale

Chapter the First

'I cannot imagine,' said Sir Godfrey to his Lady, 'why we continue in such deplorable Lodgings as these, in a paltry Market-town, while we have 3 good Houses of our own situated in some of the finest parts of England, & perfectly ready to receive us!'

'I'm sure, Sir Godfrey,' replied Lady Marlow, 'it has been much against my inclination that we have staid here so long; or why we should ever have come at all indeed, has been to me a wonder, as none of our Houses have been in the least want of repair.'

'Nay, my dear,' answered Sir Godfrey, 'you are the last person who ought to be displeased with what was always meant as a compliment to you; for you cannot but be sensible of the very great inconvenience your Daughters & I have been put to, during the 2 years we have remained crowded in these Lodgings in order to give you pleasure.'

'My dear,' replied Lady Marlow, 'How can you stand & tell such lies, when you very well know that it was merely to oblige the Girls & you, that I left a most commodious House situated in a most delightfull Country & surrounded by a most agreable Neighbourhood, to live 2 years cramped up in Lodgings three pair of Stairs high, in a smokey & unwholesome town, which has given me a continual fever & almost thrown me into a Consumption.'

As, after a few more speeches on both sides, they could not determine which was the most to blame, they prudently laid aside the debate, & having packed up their Cloathes & paid their rent, they set out the next morning with their 2 Daughters for their seat in Sussex. Sir Godfrey & Lady Marlow were indeed very sensible people & tho' (as in this instance) like many other sensible People, they sometimes did a foolish thing, yet in general their actions were guided by Prudence & regulated by discretion.

After a Journey of two Days & a half they arrived at Marlhurst in good health & high spirits; so overjoyed were they all to inhabit again a place, they had left with mutual regret for two years, that they ordered the bells to be rung & distributed ninepence among the Ringers.

Chapter the Second

The news of their arrival being quickly spread throughout the Country, brought them in a few Days visits of congratulation from every family in it.

Amongst the rest came the inhabitants of Willmot Lodge a beautifull Villa not far from Marlhurst. Mr Willmot was the representative of a very ancient Family & possessed besides his paternal Estate, a considerable share in a Lead mine & a ticket in the Lottery. His Lady was an agreable Woman. Their Children were too numerous to be particularly described; it is sufficient to say that in general they were virtuously inclined & not given to any wicked ways. Their family being too large to accompany them in every visit, they took nine with them alternately

When their Coach stopped at Sir Godfrey's door, the Miss Marlow's Hearts throbbed in the eager expectation of once more beholding a family so dear to them. Emma the youngest (who was more particularly interested in their arrival, being attached to their eldest Son) continued at her Dressing-room window in anxious Hopes of seeing young Edgar descend from the Carriage.

Mr & Mrs Willmot with their three eldest Daughters first appeared--Emma began to tremble. Robert, Richard, Ralph, & Rodolphus followed--Emma turned pale. Their two youngest Girls were lifted from the Coach--Emma sunk breathless on a Sopha. A footman came to announce to her the arrival of Company; her heart was too full to contain its afflictions. A confidante was necessary--In Thomas she hoped to experience a faithfull one--for one she must have & Thomas was the only one at Hand. To him she unbosomed herself without restraint & after owning her passion for young Willmot, requested his advice in what manner she should conduct herself in the melancholy Disappointment under which she laboured.

Thomas, who would gladly have been excused from listening to her complaint, begged leave to decline giving any advice concerning it, which much against her will, she was obliged to comply with.

Having dispatched him therefore with many injunctions of secrecy, she descended with a heavy heart into the Parlour, where she found the good Party seated in a social Manner round a blazing fire.

Chapter the Third

Emma had continued in the Parlour some time before she could summon up sufficient courage to ask Mrs Willmot after the rest of her family; & when she did, it was in so low, so faltering a voice that no one knew she spoke. Dejected by the ill success of her first attempt she made no other, till on Mrs Willmot's desiring one of the little Girls to ring the bell for their Carriage, she stepped across the room & seizing the string said in a resolute manner.

'Mrs Willmot, you do not stir from this House till you let me know how all the rest of` your family do, particularly your eldest son.'

They were all greatly surprised by such an unexpected address & the more so, on account of the manner in which it was spoken; but Emma, who would not be again disappointed, requesting an answer, Mrs Willmot made the following eloquent oration.

'Our children are all extremely well but at present most of them from home. Amy is with my sister Clayton. Sam at Eton. David with his Uncle John. Jem & Will at Winchester. Kitty at Queen's Square. Ned with his Grandmother. Hetty & Patty in a Convent at Brussells. Edgar at college, Peter at Nurse, & all the rest (except the nine here) at home.'

It was with difficulty that Emma could refrain from tears on hearing of the absence of Edgar; she remained however tolerably composed till the Willmots were gone when having no check to the overflowings of her greif, she gave free vent to them, & retiring to her own room, continued in tears the remainder of her Life.

Finis

Frederic and Elfrida

Frederic and Elfrida is a short comic romance by the young Jane Austen. It is the first entry in Volume the First, one of three volumes of juvenilia that she kept in later years. She was somewhere between twelve and eighteen when she wrote it.

It is a splendid, fast-paced parody of the romantic conventions of the age, infused with her own wicked and often violent wit. For example, she says the cousins Frederic and Elfrida were so much alike that their dearest friends could barely tell them apart... except for their face, nose, eyes, and complexion. Then the families become such dear friends "that they did not scruple to kick one another out of the window on the slightest provocation." Her notion of sweet and gentle persuasion happens to include a dagger ready to be steeped in the victim's heart's blood.

This e-text was created by Cathy Dean and is taken from her website http://home.earthlink.net/~lfdean/austen. This is the first time I've tried to accommodate an e-text to E2 so I'm not sure if it'll come out right at first. (I tried to contact her to get permission to add more, as she put so much work into formatting these, but the e-mail bounced. Oh well, they're public domain and it's good to have them accessible on E2.)


Frederic and Elfrida

A Novel

To Miss Lloyd

My dear Martha,
As a small testimony of the gratitude I feel for your late generosity to me in finishing my muslin Cloak, I beg leave to offer you this little production of your sincere Freind
The Author

Chapter the First

The Uncle of Elfrida was the Father of Frederic; in other words, they were first cousins by the Father's side.

Being both born in one day & both brought up at one school, it was not wonderfull that they should look on each other with something more than bare politeness. They loved with mutual sincerity but were both determined not to transgress the rules of Propriety by owning their attachment, either to the object beloved, or to any one else.

They were exceedingly handsome and so much alike, that it was not every one who knew them apart. Nay even their most intimate freinds had nothing to distinguish them by, but the shape of the face, the colour of the Eye, the length of the Nose & the difference of the complexion. Elfrida had an intimate freind to whom, being on a visit to an Aunt, she wrote the following Letter.

To Miss Drummond

Dear Charlotte
I should be obliged to you, if you would buy me, during your stay with Mrs Williamson, a new & fashionable Bonnet, to suit the complexion of your
E. Falknor

Charlotte, whose character was a willingness to oblige every one, when she returned into the Country, brought her Freind the wished-for Bonnet, & so ended this little adventure, much to the satisfaction of all parties.

On her return to Crankhumdunberry (of which sweet village her father was Rector) Charlotte was received with the greatest Joy by Frederic & Elfrida, who, after pressing her alternately to their Bosoms, proposed to her to take a walk in a Grove of Poplars which led from the Parsonage to a verdant Lawn enamelled with a variety of variegated flowers & watered by a purling Stream, brought from the Valley of Tempé by a passage under ground.

In this Grove they had scarcely remained above 9 hours, when they were suddenly agreably surprized by hearing a most delightfull voice warble the following stanza.

Song

That Damon was in love with me
I once thought & beleiv'd
But now that he is not I see,
I fear I was deceiv'd

No sooner were the lines finished than they beheld by a turning in the Grove 2 elegant young women leaning on each other's arm, who immediately on perceiving them, took a different path & disappeared from their sight.

Chapter the Second

As Elfrida & her companions, had seen enough of them to know that they were neither the 2 Miss Greens, nor Mrs Jackson & her Daughter, they could not help expressing their surprise at their appearance; till at length recollecting, that a new family had lately taken a House not far from the Grove, they hastened home, determined to lose no time in forming an acquaintance with 2 such amiable & worthy Girls, of which family they rightly imagined them to be a part.

Agreable to such a determination, they went that very evening to pay their respects to Mrs Fitzroy & her two Daughters. On being shewn into an elegant dressing room, ornamented with festoons of artificial flowers, they were struck with the engaging Exterior & beautifull outside of Jezalinda the eldest of the young Ladies; but e'er they had been many minutes seated, the Wit & Charms which shone resplendent in the conversation of the amiable Rebecca, enchanted them so much that they all with one accord jumped up & exclaimed.

'Lovely & too charming Fair one, notwithstanding your forbidding Squint, your greazy tresses & your swelling Back, which are more frightfull than imagination can paint or pen describe, I cannot refrain from expressing my raptures, at the engaging Qualities of your Mind, which so amply atone for the Horror, with which your first appearance must ever inspire the unwary visitor.

'Your sentiments so nobly expressed on the different excellencies of Indian & English Muslins, & the judicious preference you give the former, have excited in me an admiration of which I can alone give an adequate idea, by assuring you it is nearly equal to what I feel for myself.'

Then making a profound Curtesy to the amiable & abashed Rebecca, they left the room & hurried home.

From this period, the intimacy between the Families of Fitzroy, Drummond, & Falknor, daily increased till at length it grew to such a pitch, that they did not scruple to kick one another out of the window on the slightest provocation.

During this happy state of Harmony, the eldest Miss Fitzroy ran off with the Coachman & the amiable Rebecca was asked in marriage by Captain Roger of Buckinghamshire.

Mrs Fitzroy did not approve of the match on account of the tender years of the young couple, Rebecca being but 36 & Captain Roger little more than 63. To remedy this objection, it was agreed that they should wait a little while till they were a good deal older.

Chapter the Third

In the mean time the parents of Frederic proposed to those of Elfrida, an union between them, which being accepted with pleasure, the wedding cloathes were brought & nothing remained to be settled but the naming of the Day.

As to the lovely Charlotte, being importuned with eagerness to pay another visit to her Aunt, she determined to accept the invitation & in consequence of it walked to Mrs Fitzroys to take leave of the amiable Rebecca, whom she found surrounded by Patches, Powder, Pomatum & Paint with which she was vainly endeavouring to remedy the natural plainness of her face.

'I am come my amiable Rebecca, to take my leave of you for the fortnight I am destined to spend with my aunt. Beleive me this separation is painfull to me, but it is as necessary as the labour which now engages you.'

'Why to tell you the truth my Love,' replied Rebecca, 'I have lately taken it into my head to think (perhaps with little reason) that my complexion is by no means equal to the rest of my face & have therefore taken, as you see, to white & red paint which I would scorn to use on any other occasion as I hate art.'

Charlotte, who perfectly understood the meaning of her freind's speech, was too good-tempered & obliging to refuse her, what she knew she wished,--a compliment; & they parted the best freinds in the world.

With a heavy heart & streaming Eyes did she ascend the lovely vehicle* which bore her from her freinds & home; but greived as she was, she little thought in what a strange & different manner she should return to it.

On her entrance into the city of London which was the place of Mrs Williamson's abode, the postilion, whose stupidity was amazing, declared & declared even without the least shame or Compunction, that having never been informed he was totally ignorant of what part of the Town, he was to drive to.

Charlotte, whose nature we have before intimated, was an earnest desire to oblige every one, with the greatest Condescension & Good humour informed him that he was to drive to Portland Place, which he accordingly did & Charlotte soon found herself in the arms of a fond Aunt.

Scarcely were they seated as usual, in the most affectionate manner in one chair, than the Door suddenly opened & an aged gentleman with a sallow face & old pink Coat, partly by intention & partly thro' weakness was at the feet of the lovely Charlotte, declaring his attachment to her & beseeching her pity in the most moving manner.

Not being able to resolve to make any one miserable, she consented to become his wife; where upon the Gentleman left the room & all was quiet.

Their quiet however continued but a short time, for on a second opening of the door a young & Handsome Gentleman with a new blue coat, entered & intreated from the lovely Charlotte, permission to pay to her, his addresses. There was a something in the appearance of the second Stranger, that influenced Charlotte in his favour, to the full as much as the appearance of the first: she could not account for it, but so it was.

Having therefore, agreable to that & the natural turn of her mind to make every one happy, promised to become his Wife the next morning, he took his leave & the two Ladies sat down to Supper on a young Leveret, a brace of Partridges, a leash of Pheasants & a Dozen of Pigeons.

Chapter the Fourth

It was not till the next morning that Charlotte recollected the double engagement she had entered into; but when she did, the reflection of her past folly, operated so strongly on her mind, that she resolved to be guilty of a greater, & to that end threw herself into a deep stream which ran thro' her Aunt's pleasure Grounds in Portland Place.

She floated to Crankhumdunberry where she was picked up & buried; the following epitaph, composed by Frederic, Elfrida & Rebecca, was placed on her tomb.

Epitaph

Here lies our friend who having promis-ed
That unto two she would be marri-ed
Threw her sweet Body & her lovely face
Into the Stream that runs thro' Portland Place.

These sweet lines, as pathetic as beautifull were never read by any one who passed that way, without a shower of tears, which if they should fail of exciting in you, Reader, your mind must be unworthy to peruse them.

Having performed the last sad office to their departed freind, Frederic & Elfrida together with Captain Roger & Rebecca returned to Mrs Fitzroy's at whose feet they threw themselves with one accord & addressed her in the following Manner.

'Madam 'When the sweet Captain Roger first addressed the amiable Rebecca, you alone objected to their union on account of the tender years of the Parties. That plea can be no more, seven days being now expired, together with the lovely Charlotte, since the Captain first spoke to you on the subject.

'Consent then Madam to their union & as a reward, this smelling Bottle which I enclose in my right hand, shall be yours & yours forever; I never will claim it again. But if you refuse to join their hands in 3 days time, this dagger which I enclose in my left shall be steeped in your hearts blood.

'Speak then Madam & decide their fate & yours.'

Such gentle & sweet persuasion could not fail of having the desired effect. The answer they received, was this.

'My dear young freinds 'The arguments you have used are too just & too eloquent to be withstood; Rebecca in 3 days time, you shall be united to the Captain.

This speech, than which nothing could be more satisfactory, was received with Joy by all; & peace being once more restored on all sides, Captain Roger intreated Rebecca to favour them with a Song, in compliance with which request having first assured them that she had a terrible cold, she sung as follows.

Song

When Corydon went to the fair
He bought a red ribbon for Bess,
With which she encircled her hair
& made herself look very fess.

Chapter the Fifth

At the end of 3 days Captain Roger & Rebecca were united & immediately after the Ceremony set off in the Stage Waggon for the Captain's seat in Buckinghamshire.

The parents of Elfrida, alltho' they earnestly wished to see her married to Frederic before they died, yet knowing the delicate frame of her mind could ill bear the least exertion & rightly judging that naming her wedding day would be too great a one, forebore to press her on the subject.

Weeks & Fortnights flew away without gaining the least ground; the Cloathes grew out of fashion & at length Captain Roger & his Lady arrived, to pay a visit to their Mother & introduce to her their beautifull Daughter of eighteen.

Elfrida, who had found her former acquaintance were growing too old & too ugly to be any longer agreable, was rejoiced to hear of the arrival of so pretty a girl as Eleanor with whom she determined to form the strictest freindship.

But the Happiness she had expected from an acquaintance with Eleanor, she soon found was not to be received, for she had not only the mortification of finding herself treated by her as little less than an old woman, but had actually the horror of perceiving a growing passion in the Bosom of Frederic for the Daughter of the amiable Rebecca.

The instant she had the first idea of such an attachment, she flew to Frederic & in a manner truly heroick, spluttered out to him her intention of being married the next Day.

To one in his predicament who possessed less personal Courage than Frederic was master of, such a speech would have been Death; but he not being the least terrified boldly replied.

'Damme Elfrida you may be married tomorrow but I won't.'

This answer distressed her too much for her delicate Constitution. She accordingly fainted & was in such a hurry to have a succession of fainting fits, that she had scarcely patience enough to recover from one before she fell into another.

Tho', in any threatening Danger to his Life or Liberty, Frederic was as bold as brass yet in other respects his heart was as soft as cotton & immediately on hearing of the dangerous way Elfrida was in, he flew to her & finding her better than he had been taught to expect, was united to her Forever--.

Finis

* a post-chaise

Henry and Eliza

A comic tale by Jane Austen in Volume the First, the collection of juvenilia she preserved, which she had written between the ages of 12 and 18.

In brief: A kind and noble couple find an abandoned infant, and adopt her as their own. This Eliza grows up pure and virtuous, and when she happens to steal £50 (a vast sum) she is heartlessly turned out (by her "inhuman benefactors"). She finds a position with an amiable duchess, and elopes with Henry, lover of the duchess's daughter. The duchess raises an army to pursue them, they flee to France, live vastly beyond their means, Eliza is widowed, and returns to England in a private warship. She is imprisoned by the duchess, but daringly escapes from the dungeon. Her children indicate by biting off her fingers that they are hungry, she falls to begging, and happens to meet the kindly couple who adopted her. By the most natural of reconciliations they discover she is their true daughter. And now in full:


Henry and Eliza

A Novel,

Is humbly dedicated to Miss Cooper by her obedient Humble Servant,

The Author

As Sir George & Lady Harcourt were superintending the Labours of their Haymakers, rewarding the industry of some by smiles of approbation, & punishing the idleness of others, by a cudgel, they perceived lying closely concealed beneath the thick foliage of a Haycock, a beautifull little Girl not more than 3 months old.

Touched with the enchanting Graces of her face & delighted with the infantine tho' sprightly answers she returned to their many questions, they resolved to take her home and, having no Children of their own, to educate her with care & cost.

Being good People themselves, their first & principal Care was to incite in her a Love of Virtue & a Hatred of Vice, in which they so well succeeded (Eliza having a natural turn that way herself) that when she grew up, she was the delight of all who knew her.

Beloved by Lady Harcourt, adored by Sir George & admired by all the World, she lived in a continued course of uninterrupted Happiness, till she had attained her eighteenth year, when happening one day to be detected in stealing a banknote of 50£, she was turned out of doors by her inhuman Benefactors. Such a transition to one who did not possess so noble & exalted a mind as Eliza, would have been Death, but she, happy in the conscious knowledge of her own Excellence, amused herself, as she sate beneath a tree with making & singing the following Lines.

Song.

Though misfortunes my footsteps may ever attend
I hope I shall never have need of a Freind
as an innocent Heart I will ever preserve
& will never from Virtue's dear boundaries swerve.

Having amused herself some hours, with this song & her own pleasing reflections, she arose & took the road to M., a small market town of which place her most intimate freind kept the red Lion.

To this freind she immediately went, to whom having recounted her late misfortune, she communicated her wish of getting into some family in the capacity of Humble Companion.

Mrs Wilson, who was the most amiable creature on earth, was no sooner acquainted with her Desire, than she sate down in the Bar & wrote the following Letter to the Dutchess of F., the woman whom of all others, she most Esteemed.

'To the Dutchess of F.'

Receive into your Family, at my request a young woman of unexceptionable Character, who is so good as to choose your Society in preference to going to Service. Hasten, & take her from the arms of your

Sarah Wilson

The Dutchess, whose freindship for Mrs Wilson would have carried her any lengths, was overjoyed at such an opportunity of obliging her & accordingly sate out immediately on the receipt of her letter for the red Lion, which she reached the same Evening. The Dutchess of F. was about 45 & a half. Her passions were strong, her freindships firm & her Enmities, unconquerable. She was a widow & had only one Daughter who was on the point of marriage with a young Man of considerable fortune.

The Dutchess no sooner beheld our Heroine than throwing her arms around her neck, she declared herself so much pleased with her, that she was resolved they never more should part. Eliza was delighted with such a protestation of freindship, & after taking a most affecting leave of her dear Mrs Wilson, accompanied her grace the next morning to her seat in Surry.

With every expression of regard did the Dutchess introduce her to Lady Harriet, who was so much pleased with her appearance that she besought her, to consider her as her Sister, which Eliza with the greatest Condescension promised to do.

Mr Cecil, the Lover of Lady Harriet, being often with the family was often with Eliza. A mutual Love took place & Cecil having declared his first, prevailed on Eliza to consent to a private union, which was easy to be effected, as the Dutchess's chaplain being very much in love with Eliza himself, would they were certain do anything to oblige her.

The Dutchess & Lady Harriet being engaged one evening to an assembly, they took the opportunity of their absence & were united by the enamoured Chaplain. When the Ladies returned, their amazement was great at finding instead of Eliza the following Note.

'Madam
We are married & gone.
Henry & Eliza Cecil.'

Her Grace as soon as she had read the letter, which sufficiently explained the whole affair flew into the most violent passion & after having spent an agreable half hour, in calling them by all the shocking Names her rage could suggest to her, sent out after them 300 armed Men, with orders not to return without their Bodies dead or alive; intending that if they should be brought to her in the latter condition to have them put to Death in some torturelike manner, after a few years Confinement.

In the mean time Cecil & Eliza continued their flight to the Continent; which they judged to be more secure than their native Land, from the dreadfull events of the Dutchess's vengeance, which they had so much reason to apprehend.

In France they remained 3 years, during which time they became the parents of two Boys, & at the end of it Eliza became a widow without any thing to support either her or her Children. They had lived since their Marriage at the rate of 18,000£ a year, of which Mr Cecil's estate being rather less than the twentieth part, they had been able to save but a trifle, having lived to the utmost extent of their Income.

Eliza, being perfectly conscious of the derangement in their affairs, immediately on her Husband's death set sail for England, in a man of War of 55 Guns, which they had built in their more prosperous Days. But no sooner had she stepped on Shore at Dover, with a Child in each hand, than she was seized by the officers of the Dutchess, & conducted by them to a snug little Newgate of their Lady's which she had erected for the reception of her own private Prisoners.

No sooner had Eliza entered her Dungeon than the first thought which occurred to her, was how to get out of it again.

She went to the Door; but it was locked. She looked at the Window; but it was barred with iron; disappointed in both her expectations, she dispaired of effecting her Escape, when she fortunately perceived in a Corner of her Cell, a small saw & Ladder of ropes. With the saw she instantly went to work & in a few weeks had displaced every Bar but one to which she fastened the Ladder.

A difficulty then occurred which for some time, she knew not how to obviate. Her Children were too small to get down the Ladder by themselves, nor would it be possible for her to take them in her arms, when she did. At last she determind to fling down all her Cloathes, of which she had a large Quantity, & then having given them strict Charge not to hurt themselves, threw her Children after them. She herself with ease discended by the Ladder, at the bottom of which she had the pleasure of finding her little boys in perfect Health & fast asleep.

Her wardrobe she now saw a fatal necessity of selling, both for the preservation of her Children & herself. With tears in her eyes, she parted with these last reliques of her former Glory, & with the money she got for them, bought others more usefull, some playthings for Her Boys & a gold Watch for herself.

But scarcely was she provided with the above-mentioned necessaries, than she began to find herself rather hungry, & had reason to think, by their biting off two of her fingers, that her Children were much in the same situation.

To remedy these unavoidable misfortunes, she determined to return to her old freinds, Sir George & Lady Harcourt, whose generosity she had so often experienced & hoped to experience as often again.

She had about 40 miles to travel before she could reach their hospitable Mansion, of which having walked 30 without stopping, she found herself at the Entrance of a Town, where often in happier times, she had accompanied Sir George & Lady Harcourt to regale themselves with a cold collation at one of the Inns.

The reflections that her adventures since the last time she had partaken of these happy Junketings, afforded her, occupied her mind, for some time, as she sate on the steps at the door of a Gentleman's house. As soon as these reflections were ended; she arose & determined to take her station at the very inn, she remembered with so much delight, from the Company of which, as they went in & out, she hoped to receive some Charitable Gratuity.

She had but just taken her post at the Innyard before a Carriage drove out of it, & on turning the Corner at which she was stationed, stopped to give the Postilion an opportunity of admiring the beauty of the prospect. Eliza then advanced to the carriage & was going to request their Charity, when on fixing her Eyes on the Lady, within it, she exclaimed, 'Lady Harcourt!'

To which the lady replied, 'Eliza!'

'Yes Madam it is the wretched Eliza herself.'

Sir George, who was also in the Carriage, but too much amazed to speek, was proceeding to demand an explanation from Eliza of the Situation she was then in, when Lady Harcourt in transports of Joy, exclaimed. 'Sir George, Sir George, she is not only Eliza our adopted Daughter, but our real Child.'

'Our real Child! What Lady Harcourt, do you mean? You know you never even was with child. Explain yourself, I beseech you.'

'You must remember Sir George, that when you sailed for America, you left me breeding.'

'I do, I do, go on dear Polly.'

'Four months after you were gone, I was delivered of this Girl, but dreading your just resentment at her not proving the Boy you wished, I took her to a Haycock & laid her down. A few weeks afterwards, you returned, & fortunately for me, made no enquiries on the subject. Satisfied within myself of the wellfare of my Child, I soon forgot I had one, insomuch that when, we shortly after found her in the very Haycock, I had placed her, I had no more idea of her being my own, than you had, & nothing I will venture to say would have recalled the circumstance to my remembrance, but my thus accidentally hearing her voice, which now strikes me as being the very counterpart of my own Child's.'

'The rational & convincing Account you have given of the whole affair,' said Sir George, 'Leaves no doubt of her being our Daughter & as such I freely forgive the robbery she was guilty of.'

A mutual Reconciliation then took place, & Eliza, ascending the Carriage with her two Children returned to that home from which she had been absent nearly four years.

No sooner was she reinstated in her accustomed power at Harcourt Hall, than she raised an Army, with which she entirely demolished the Dutchess's Newgate, snug as It was, & by that act, gained the Blessings of thousands, & the Applause of her own Heart.

Finis

Jack and Alice

A comic novella by the young Jane Austen, the second entry in Volume the First, one of three volumes of juvenilia she preserved, and composed somewhere between the ages of 12 and 18. It is, like her other youthful works, a parody of the conventional style of polite novel. Its language is exceedingly proper and its plot almost ordinary, until she veers into sudden excess, and veers out again as if nothing had happened.

Mr and Mrs Jones were both rather tall and very passionate, but were in other respects good-tempered, well-behaved people. Charles Adams was an amiable, accomplished, and bewitching young man, of so dazzling a beauty that none but eagles could look him in the face.
There are three sisters, one the picture of ambition, the second of envy, the third of vanity. There is a very likable and decent family whose slightest faults are being excessively addicted to the bottle and gaming. Young Alice Johnson is permanently red in the face and arguing drunkenly with her friend Lady Williams, who is a paragon of every sort of virtue and good sense: actually much prefiguring Lady Russell from Persuasion. Except that at the end of the entertainment, "the bottle being pretty briskly pushed about", the whole party are carried home, Dead Drunk.

In Chapter the First we meet the party, and they have a masked ball, at which Charles Adams is obliged to stand half a mile away from the others because of the brightness of his beauty. In Chapter the Second Alice confesses her love for Charles to Lady Williams, who in Chapter the Third describes her own youth, and how she would have attained perfection because of her dear governess had she not been tragically taken from her.

'Miss Dickins was an excellent governess. She instructed me in the paths of virtue; under her tuition I daily became more amiable, and might perhaps by this time have nearly attained perfection, had not my worthy preceptoress been torn from my arms ere I had attained my seventeenth year. I never shall forget her last words. "My dear Kitty," she said, "Good night t'ye." I never saw her afterwards,' continued Lady Williams, wiping her eyes. 'She eloped with the butler the same night.'
In Chapter the Fourth the walk from her ladyship's pigsty to one of Charles Adams's horseponds, the two arguing constantly about Alice's red complexion, until they meet a distressed and injured young lady, who in Chapter the Fifth tells her own story, how she fell in love with Charles on his estate in Wales, and has since stalked him and pursued him here seeking to marry him, but has been caught in one of the mantraps he puts around his grounds to discourage the hordes of women who would seek his perfection. In Chapter the Sixth they become firm friends with this Lucy and Alice once more partakes very freely of Lady Williams's excellent claret.

In Chapter the Seventh we hear about the hero of the novel, never mentioned by name, and not mentioned before: Alice's brother, who drops dead from excessive drinking and leaves her a large fortune. She seeks the hand of that perfect paragon Charles Adams, who refuses her in a manner that caricatures what Jane Austen would later use as the haughty and self-loving character of Mr Darcy.

In Chapter the Eighth the envious sister several times attempts to cut Lucy's throat while they are at Bath, and in Chapter the Ninth Lucy perishes by poison, the envious sister is hanged, the ambitious sister becomes the chief sultana to the grand mogul, and Lady Williams and Charles Adams are happily united.

There is an e-text available here.

Love and Freindship

mauler's beaten me to posting the e-text, so let me try to convey you why you should read this.

I found myself creased up crying with laughter all through Love and Friendship (sic!). It's in Volume the Second of her juvenilia, but I was sure it was one of her later ones, when she was a mature and powerful 17 or so. But no, at the end is the date "June 13th, 1790": Jane Austen was a mere 14. It's a much more sustained and novel-like effort than the short whimsies of Volume the First.

Now first of all two misconceptions. It's not called Love and Freindship, fixed as that is in the popular imagination. Jane Austen corrected that spelling in the manuscript, as she did many others: she was good at spelling, and revised her manuscripts carefully.

It's not really an epistolary novel, either, a form that was common in her youth but was outdated by the time she got to write the real novels. She was to make one more effort at the style in Lady Susan. But apart from two very short introductory letters setting the reason for the letters, they are all from Laura to Marianne, without any replies, and it is therefore really just a first-person narrative broken up into chapters.

It is the story of Laura when she was young, and her adventures with her two friends Isabel and Sophia. She is now 55 and out of harm's way and the introductory two letters are between Laura and Isabel, who asks her to set down her adventures for the sake of Isabel's daughter Marianne. Laura agrees she has had an eventful and tragic life, as rich as any sentimental heroine could wish for.

The three young women, and the silly men who become their husbands, are outrageously over-sentimental and romantic and idiotically selfish, weaving a path of destruction amid a world full of normal, healthy, kind, reasonable people, who are condemned as vile and devoid of proper sensibility. The contrast between the nonsense world of novels and the restraints of real life was later to be given convincing flesh and blood in Marianne Dashwood of Sense and Sensibility.

Laura had a perfectly normal upbringing for a romantic heroine: "My Father was a native of Ireland and an inhabitant of Wales; my Mother was the natural Daughter of a Scotch Peer by an Italian Opera-girl -- I was born in Spain, and received my Education at a Convent in France."

And she was well equipped for her inevitable role in life: "But lovely as I was, the Graces of my Person were the least of my Perfections. Of every accomplishment accustomary to my sex, I was Mistress." - With that most indispensible of requirements for a true heroine: "A sensibility too tremblingly alive to every affliction of my Freinds, my Acquaintance, and particularly to every affliction of my own, was my only fault, if a fault it could be called."

She lived in innocent retirement in a Welsh cottage with her friend Isabel (who had seen the world: she "had spent a fortnight in Bath and had supped one night in Southampton" and who therefore could warn her of dissipation, luxury, and the stinking fish of Southampton), when suddenly her quiet world is overturned by the arrival of a stranger (an entire letter is devoted to the knocking at the door), called Lindsay, whom she'll conceal under the name of Talbot. They naturally fall instantly in love and are united by her father, who, though he was not actually in holy orders, "had been bred to the church".

This Edward is fleeing his father, who was asking him to marry a good and amiable woman; but as Edward had never done anything in his life to oblige his father, he had left, and in consequence of a slight wrong turning near London was now lost in the wild glens of Wales. Like noble lovers they propose to live on love alone, and scorn the need for victuals and drink that his heartlessly down-to-earth sister recommends.

Laura and Edward go to stay with his friend Augustus, who is supporting his wife Sophia on banknotes he's had the foresight to purloin from his father's escritoire. Laura and Sophia became fast friends instantly and are continually fainting into each other's arms.

The men being taken into custody in Newgate for debt, Sophia finds it insupportable to face the distress of seeing him, so they leave for Scotland to sponge off some relatives there. By chance, on the way, they are recognized by a grandfather who has never seen them before, as well as two more new grandsons who happen along. These things will occur in sensitive families. The grandfather hands them all money, the grandsons steal away with it, and Sophia and Laura are left destitute once more.

They front up on the Scottish relation's doorstep, and persuade his hitherto level-headed daughter Janetta that she must be madly in love with someone other than the good and decent man her father wants for her. After racking her brains, she comes up with a name of someone she is slightly fond of, so they fix them up in an elopement, steal some money from the heartless and cruel relation, and walk out into the woods.

Here their attention is distracted by a carriage accident, and who should lay groaning and dying but their own two husbands. At this, Sophia spends the rest of the afternoon swooning while Laura runs mad. Alas, the ground is damp, and lying on it in her swoons does away with Sophia too, who recommends to her friend to beware of fainting-fits, though "at the time they may be refreshing and agreable; whereas a mad frenzy is undoubtedly healthy exercise.

She then by chance meets her entire family again, and their adventures are described, but I've gone on too long, rather like Laura's madness: the whole e-text is on E2. Read it and weep. :-)

Memoirs of Mr Clifford

A comic tale by Jane Austen in Volume the First, the collection of juvenilia she preserved, which she had written between the ages of 12 and 18. His "memoirs" involve a single journey, made at a painfully slow pace, presented as if he was one of the great horsemen and speed-fiends of the age, and with long rests in between to recuperate.

Other touches of Janeite absurdity include the long list of carriages culminating in a wheelbarrow; and his lavish dinner of a whole egg boiled for himself and his servants.


Memoirs of Mr Clifford

An Unfinished Tale

To Charles John Austen Esqre

Sir,

Your generous patronage of the unfinished tale, I have already taken the Liberty of dedicating to you, encourages me to dedicate to you a second, as unfinished as the first.

I am Sir with every expression
of regard for you and yr noble
Family, your most obedt
&c. &c. . . .
The Author

Mr Clifford lived at Bath; and having never seen London, set off one Monday morning determined to feast his eyes with a sight of that great Metropolis. He travelled in his Coach and Four, for he was a very rich young Man and kept a great many Carriages of which I do not recollect half. I can only remember that he had a Coach, a Chariot, a Chaise, a Landeau, a Landeaulet, a Phaeton, a Gig, a Whisky, an Italian Chair, a Buggy, a Curricle & a wheelbarrow. He had likewise an amazing fine stud of Horses. To my knowledge he had six Greys, 4 Bays, eight Blacks and a poney.

In his Coach & 4 Bays Mr Clifford sate forward about 5 o'clock on Monday Morning the 1st of May for London. He always travelled remarkably expeditiously and contrived therefore to get to Devizes from Bath, which is no less than nineteen miles, the first Day. To be sure he did not Set in till eleven at night and pretty tight work, it was as you may imagine.

However when he was once got to Devizes he was determined to comfort himself with a good hot Supper and therefore ordered a whole Egg to be boiled for him and his Servants. The next morning he pursued his Journey and in the course of 3 days hard labour reached Overton, where he was seized with a dangerous fever the Consequence of too violent Excercise.

Five months did our Hero remain in this celebratcd City under the care of its no less celebrated Physician, who at length compleatly cured him of his troublesome Desease.

As Mr Clifford still continued very weak, his first Day's J carried him only to Dean Gate. where he remained a few Days and found himself much benefited by the change of Air.

In easy Stages he proceeded to Basingstoke. One day Carrying him to Clarkengreen, the next to Worting, the 3d to the bottom of Basingstoke Hill, and the fourth, to Mr Robins's. ...

Finis

Sir William Mountague

A comic tale by Jane Austen in Volume the First, the collection of juvenilia she preserved, which she had written between the ages of 12 and 18.

In its few lines we have a classic tale of love, death, heartbreak, family pride, philandering, and blood sports. Who could ask for a three-volume novel when Jane can do it like this? :-)


Sir William Mountague

an unfinished performance
is humbly dedicated to Charles John
Austen Esq, by his most obedient humble
Servant

The Author

Sir William Mountague was the son of Sir Henry Mountague, who was the son of Sir John Mountague, a descendant of Sir Christopher Mountague, who was the nephew of Sir Edward Mountague, whose ancestor was Sir James Mountague a near relation of Sir Robert Mountague, who inherited the Title and Estate from Sir Frederic Mountague.

Sir William was about 17 when his Father died, and left him a handsome fortune, an ancient House and a Park well stocked with Deer. Sir William had not been long in the possession of his Estate before he fell in Love with the 3 Miss Cliftons of Kilhoobery Park. These young Ladies were all equally young, equally handsome, equally rich and equally amiable--Sir William was equally in Love with them all, and knowing not which to prefer, he left the Country and took Lodgings in a small Village near Dover.

In this retreat, to which he had retired in the hope of finding a shelter from the Pangs of Love, he became enamoured of a young Widow of Quality, who came for change of air to the same Village, after the death of a Husband, whom she had always tenderly loved and now sincerely lamented.

Lady Percival was young, accomplished and lovely. Sir William adored her and she consented to become his Wife. Vehemently pressed by Sir William to name the day in which he might conduct her to the Altar, she at length fixed on the following Monday, which was the first of September. Sir William was a Shot and could not support the idea of losing such a Day, even for such a Cause. He begged her to delay the Wedding a short time. Lady Percival was enraged and returned to London the next Morning.

Sir William was sorry to lose her, but as he knew that he should have been much more greived by the Loss of the 1st of September, his Sorrow was not without a mixture of Happiness, and his Affliction was considerably lessened by his Joy.

After staying at the Village a few weeks longer, he left it and went to a freind's House in Surry. Mr Brudenell was a sensible Man, and had a beautifull Neice with whom Sir William soon fell in love. But Miss Arundel was cruel; she preferred a Mr Stanhope: Sir William shot Mr Stanhope; the lady had then no reason to refuse him; she accepted him, and they were to be married on the 27th of October. But on the 25th Sir William received a visit from Emma Stanhope, the sister of the unfortunate Victim of his rage. She begged some recompence, some atonement for the cruel Murder of her Brother. Sir William bade her name her price. She fixed on 14s. Sir William offered her himself and Fortune. They went to London the next day and were there privately married. For a fortnight Sir William was compleatly happy, but chancing one day to see a charming young Woman entering a Chariot in Brook Street, he became again most violently in love. On enquiring the name of this fair Unknown, he found that she was the Sister of his old freind Lady Percival, at which he was much rejoiced, as he hoped to have, by his acquaintance with her Ladyship, free access to Miss Wentworth....

Finis

The Adventures of Mr Harley

A very short story indeed by Jane Austen in Volume the First, the collection of juvenilia she preserved, which she had written between the ages of 12 and 18.


The Adventures of Mr Harley

A short, but interesting Tale, is with all imaginable Respect inscribed to Mr Francis William Austen Midshipman on board his Majesty's Ship the Perseverance by his Obedient Servant

The Author.

Mr Harley was one of many Children. Destined by his father for the Church & by his Mother for the Sea, desirous of pleasing both, he prevailed on Sir John to obtain for him a Chaplaincy on board a Man of War. He accordingly, cut his Hair & sailed.

In half a year he returned & set-off in the Stage Coach for Hogsworth Green, the seat of Emma. His fellow travellers were, A man without a Hat, Another with two, An old maid & a young Wife.

This last appeared about 17 with fine dark Eyes & an elegant Shape; in short Mr Harley soon found out, that she was his Emma & recollected he had married her a few weeks before he left England.

Finis

The Beautiful Cassandra

A "novel" from the juvenilia of Jane Austen, and one of the funniest things she, or anyone, ever wrote. I find it utterly surreal and cannot believe that anyone was writing such brilliant nonsense in around 1790. It is about her elder sister Cassandra Austen and dedicated to her. This is also one of the best dedications ever written. She was something like fifteen when she wrote this.


THE BEAUTIFUL CASSANDRA

A Novel in Twelve Chapters,
dedicated by permission to Miss Austen.

Dedication

Madam:
You are a phoenix. Your taste is refined, your sentiments are noble, and your virtues innumerable. Your person is lovely, your figure elegant, and your form majestic. Your manners are polished, your conversation is rational, and your appearance is singular. If, therefore, the following tale will afford one moment's amusement to you, every wish will be gratified of

Your most obedient
humble servant,
the Author.

CHAPTER THE FIRST

Cassandra was the daughter and the only daughter of a celebrated milliner in Bond Street. Her father was of noble birth, being the near relation of the Duke of ---'s butler.

CHAPTER THE SECOND

When Cassandra had attained her sixteenth year, she was lovely and amiable, and chancing to fall in love with an elegant bonnet her mother had just completed, bespoke by the Countess of ---, she placed it on her gentle head and walked from her mother's shop to make her fortune.

CHAPTER THE THIRD

The first person she met was the Viscount of ---, a young man no less celebrated for his accomplishments and virtues than for his elegance and beauty. She curtseyed and walked on.

CHAPTER THE FOURTH

She then proceeded to a pastry-cook's, where she devoured six ices, refused to pay for them, knocked down the pastry cook, and walked away.

CHAPTER THE FIFTH

She next ascended a hackney coach and ordered it to Hampstead, where she was no sooner arrived than she ordered the coachman to turn round and drive her back again.

CHAPTER THE SIXTH

Being returned to the same spot of the same street she had set out from, the coachman demanded his pay.

CHAPTER THE SEVENTH

She searched her pockets again and again; but every search was unsuccessful. No money could she find. The man grew peremptory. She placed her bonnet on his head and ran away.

CHAPTER THE EIGHTH

Through many a street she then proceeded and met in none the least adventure, till on turning a corner of Bloomsbury Square, she met Maria.

CHAPTER THE NINTH

Cassandra started and Maria seemed surprised; they trembled, blushed, turned pale, and passed each other in a mutual silence.

CHAPTER THE TENTH

Cassandra was next accosted by her friend the widow, who, squeezing out her little head through her less window, asked her how she did? Cassandra curtseyed and went on.

CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH

A quarter of a mile brought her to her paternal roof in Bond Street, from which she had now been absent nearly seven hours.

CHAPTER THE TWELFTH

She entered it and was pressed to her mother's bosom by that worthy woman. Cassandra smiled and whispered to herself, 'This is a day well spent.'

Finis

The History of England

A small work by the 15-year-old Jane Austen, with illustrations by her sister Cassandra (the dedicatee). Its full title is "The History of England from the reign of Henry the 4th to the death of Charles the 1st. By a partial, prejudiced & ignorant Historian". After the dedication is a note "N.B. There will be very few Dates in this History."

Henry IV is depicted as a handsome man in eighteenth century costume. (You can tell all the kings' and queens' characters in the Miss Austens' estimation by how spotty and leering they are.) He ascended the throne "much to his own satisfaction in the year 1399, having prevailed on his cousin & predecessor Richard the 2d, to resign it to him, & to retire for the rest of his Life to Pomfret Castle, where he happened to be murdered."

Henry V looks dashing as an eighteenth-century soldier. In his reign "Lord Cobham was burnt alive, but I forget what for".

Henry VI was a Lancastrian, and had no sense, "for I shall not be very diffuse in this, meaning by it only to vent my Spleen against, & shew my Hatred to all those people whose parties or principles do not suit with mine, & not to give information." L'aimable Jane is nothing if not honest.

Edward IV "was famous only for his Beauty & his Courage"; but this is Austenite irony in full gallop, for Cassandra makes him very surly and shifty, and the example of his courage is in marrying one woman while engaged to another. "Having performed all these noble actions", he died.

Edward V lived too short to be depicted.

Richard III has a poor character to most historians of her day, but the shrewd Jane is inclined to forgive him, since he was York.

Henry VII, a scruffy, pinched man, was "as great a Villain as ever lived".

Henry VIII looks like some Mongol potentate to me, with an eastern cap and the small curling moustache you'd expect to see in some Rajasthan miniature sniffing a rose. What was Cassandra thinking? But to resume: "The Crimes & Cruelties of this Prince, were too numerous to be mentioned & nothing can be said in his Vindication, but that his abolishing Religious Houses & leaving them to the ruinous depredations of Time has been of infinite use to the Landscape of England in general, which probably was a principal motive for his doing it".

Edward VI was rather a favourite with Jane. About half this passage concerns itself with the history of another Jane, Lady Jane Grey, "who had been already mentioned as reading Greek. Whether she really understood that language or whether such a Study proceeded only from an excess of Vanity for which I beleive she was always rather remarkable, is uncertain."

Mary had less merit and beauty than her cousins Mary, Queen of Scots and Lady Jane Grey, and was the cause of many misfortunes.

Elizabeth was a hideously ugly, spotty, hook-nosed, sour-faced harridan.. going by the picture. And indeed her character is as black in Jane's words as Cassandra can delineate it. "Destroyer of comfort", "deceitful Betrayer of trust", "Murderess", "wicked", ... yes, Jane was a lover of that paragon, the Queen of Scotland, and harangues Elizabeth for several pages over the murder. Then she outlines other events of the reign, and compares great sailors such as Sir Francis Drake to her own naval brothers.

James I "was of that amiable disposition which inclines to Freindships", and was quite a Good King. Jane Austen was quite "partial to the roman catholic religion" so with infinite regret felt they did not behave like gentlemen in this reign (trying to blow up king and parliament).

Charles I was amiable, but: "The Events of this Monarch's reign are too numerous for my pen, and indeed the recital of any Events (except what I make myself) is uninteresting to me"; and her main reason for writing the history was to prove the innocence of the Queen of Scotland.

This monumental study (some fifteen pages) was finished on Saturday Nov: 26th 1791.

The Mystery

A very short comic play, or rather a parody or burlesque of a comic play, by the young Jane Austen, in the juvenilia she preserved in her Volume the First. This means she wrote it somewhere between the ages of 12 and 18.

It mocks the conventions of plays by having speakers confide secrets, and break off from confiding secrets, in such a short space that nothing at all is conveyed. There is a cast of stock comic actors, old and young, noble and simple, that don't have time to even begin to live their part. Jane Austen could do this and make it funny in a couple of pages.


The Mystery: An Unfinished Comedy

Dedication
To the Revd George Austen

Sir,
I humbly solicit your Patronage to the following Comedy, which tho' an unfinished one, is I flatter myself as complete a Mystery as any of its kind.
I am Sir your most Humle Servant
The Author

Dramatis Personae
Men
Colonel Elliott
Sir Edward Spangle
Old Humbug
Young Humbug
and Corydon
Women
Fanny Elliott
Mrs Humbug
and Daphne

Act the First

Scene the lst
A Garden.

Enter Corydon.
Cory. But Hush! I am interrupted.
(Exit Corydon)
Enter Old Humbug and his Son, talking.
Old Hum. It is for that reason I wish you to follow my advice. Are you convinced of its propriety?
Young Hum. I am, Sir, and will certainly manner you have pointed out to me.
Old Hum. Then let us return to the House.
(Exeunt)

Scene the 2d
A Parlour in Humbug's House.
Mrs Humbug and Fanny, discovered at work.
Mrs Hum. You understand me, my Love?
Fanny. Perfectly ma'm. Pray continue your narration.
Mrs Hum. Alas! it is nearly concluded, for I have nothing more to say on the Subject.
Fanny. Ah! here's Daphne.
Enter Daphne.
Daphne. My dear Mrs Humbug, how d'ye do? Oh! Fanny, t'is all over.
Fanny. It is indeed!
Mrs Hum. I'm very sorry to hear it.
Fanny. Then t'was to no purpose that I ....
Daphne. None upon Earth.
Mrs Hum. And what is to become of? .....
Daphne. Oh! that's all settled.
(whispers Mrs Humbug)
Fanny. And how is it determined?
Daphne. I'Il tell you.
(whispers Fanny)
Mrs Hum. And is he to? ...
Daphne. I'll tell you all I know of the matter.
(whispers Mrs Humbug and Fanny)
Fanny. Well! now I know everything about it, I'll go away.
Mrs Hum. and Daphne. And so will I.
(Exeunt)

Scene the 3d The Curtain rises and discovers Sir Edward Spangle reclined in an elegant Attitude on a Sofa, fast asleep. Enter Colonel Elliott.
Colonel. My Daughter is not here I see ... there lies Sir Edward ... Shall I tell him the secret? ... No, he'll certainly blab it. ... But he is asleep and won't hear me.... So I'll e'en venture.
(Goes up to Sir Edward, whispers him, and Exit)

End of the 1st Act.
Finis

The Three Sisters

The Three Sisters is a short epistolary novel by the young Jane Austen, included in her Volume the First, of juvenilia she chose to preserve. It is the first (reading the volume sequentially) with real characters whom one would want to see continued in a mature vein; I suppose she was seventeen or so when she wrote it.

It consists of only four letters, two from Mary, the eldest Miss Stanhope, to a friend, and a further two from Miss Georgiana Stanhope to a friend of hers; and in this they give their separate views of a match in the making. The sisters are very different in character, Mary foolish and Georgiana sensible, and the middle sister Sophia is seen to be like Georgiana.

Mr Watts is an odious and unhandsome man of some small fortune, not a great deal but enough to be a good match for the family. He does not care personally for any of the girls but is willing to take any of them. He offers to Mary first as the eldest, but is clear that he will then offer to Sophy, and then to Georgiana, if refused.

This is Mary's quandary, for although she loathes him, she is quite willing and eager to marry into his money if he will treat her like a queen, and set up her with all the coaches and jewels and entertainments she demands; and she would be mortified if her younger sisters (or indeed their acquaintances the Duttons) got to be married first, with the social priority over her that this entailed.

So the ridiculous and selfish Mary pours out to her friend Fanny her alternate hopes and fears, delights and dislikes. Mr Watts is very old, all of 32, but unfortunately in good health, so he cannot be expected to die soon enough.

The amused and sprightly Georgiana describes to her friend Anne the deceit she and Sophy are playing, both with a slightly uneasy conscience, in making her think they will accept Mr Watts if she does not: thereby forcing her into an advantageous marriage, believing that on the whole she will be better in such a position (and perhaps will not keep getting such chances).

That really is all it is. Georgiana's two letters are both long, so it does go on for some pages. It is not the amount of plot that is remarkable but the sudden certainty with which the young Jane Austen has created totally believable characters. Many of them could appear in the mature novels, product of years of thought and revision: Mary resembles the younger Bennet sisters as well as Mary Musgrove; Georgiana reminds me somewhat of Emma Watson, rather than the spirited Elizabeth Bennet, and I can't see Jane Bennet conspiring the way Sophy cheerfully does. Their mother rails at Mary the way Mrs Bennet does; the odious Mr Watts is somewhere on the Mr Darcy-Mr Palmer-Mr Collins continuum; and so on.

Finally there is the interesting Mr Brudenell, who is a visitor to the Duttons when the Stanhopes call and Mary vulgarly shows off her impending marriage. Jemima and Kitty lead her out in discussing it, to the amusement and horror of Georgiana and Sophy, and this well-bred Mr Brudenell is clearly transfixed with disgust and, indeed, amusement, at what she is saying. The thing I curse most about the shortness of this story is that there is no glance of the eye between him and Georgiana, for in a longer work you immediately know he would come to play a very important part indeed in her future.

There is an e-text of it here.

The Visit

A ludicrous, very short play by Jane Austen, in Volume the First of her juvenilia.

The Visit: A Comedy in Two Acts

Dedication.
To the Revd James Austen
Sir,
The following Drama, which I humbly recommend to your Protection & Patronage, tho' inferior to those celebrated Comedies called "The School for Jealousy" & "The Travelled Man", will I hope afford some amusement to so respectable a Curate as yourself; which was the end in veiw when it was first composed by your Humble Servant the Author.

Dramatis Personae
Sir Arthur Hampton
Lord Fitzgerald
Stanly
Willoughby,
Sir Arthur's nephew

Lady Hampton
Miss Fitzgerald
Sophy Hampton
Cloe Willoughby

The scenes are laid in Lord Fitzgerald's House.

Act I Scene the first, a Parlour --
enter Lord Fitzgerald & Stanly

Stanly. Cousin, your servant.
Fitzgerald. Stanly, good morning to you. I hope you slept well last night.
Stanly. Remarkably well, I thank you.
Fitzgerald. I am afraid you found your Bed too short. It was bought in my Grandmother's time, who was herself a very short woman & made a point of suiting all her Beds to her own length, as she never wished to have any company in the House, on account of an unfortunate impediment in her speech, which she was sensible of being very disagreable to her inmates.
Stanly. Make no more excuses, dear Fitzgerald.
Fitzgerald. I will not distress you by too much civility -- I only beg you will consider yourself as much at home as in your Father's house. Remember, "The more free, the more Wellcome."
exit Fitzgerald
Stanly. Amiable Youth!
"Your virtues, could he imitate
How happy would be Stanly's fate!"
exit Stanly

Scene the 2d
Stanly & Miss Fitzgerald, discovered.

Stanly. What Company is it you expect to dine with you to Day, Cousin?
Miss F. Sir Arthur & Lady Hampton; their Daughter, Nephew & Neice.
Stanly. Miss Hampton & her Cousin are both Handsome, are they not?
Miss F. Miss Willoughby is extreamly so. Miss Hampton is a fine Girl, but not equal to her.
Stanly. Is not your Brother attached to the Latter?
Miss F. He admires her, I know, but I beleive nothing more. Indeed I have heard him say that she was the most beautifull, pleasing, & amiable Girl in the world, & that of all others he should prefer her for his Wife. But it never went any farther, I'm certain.
Stanly. And yet my Cousin never says a thing he does not mean.
Miss F. Never. From his Cradle he has always been a strict adherent to Truth
Exeunt Severally

End of the First Act.

Act 2

Scene the first. The Drawing Room.

Chairs set round in a row. Lord Fitzgerald, Miss Fitzgerald & Stanly seated.
Enter a Servant.

Servant. Sir Arthur & Lady Hampton. Miss Hampton, Mr. & Miss Willoughby.
Exit Servant
Enter the Company.

Miss F. I hope I have the pleasure of seeing your Ladyship well. Sir Arthur, your Servant. Yrs., Mr. Willoughby. Dear Sophy, Dear Cloe,
-- They pay their Compliments alternately.
Miss F. Pray be seated. They sit Bless me! there ought to be 8 Chairs & there are but 6. However, if your Ladyship will but take Sir Arthur in your Lap, & Sophy my Brother in hers, I beleive we shall do pretty well.
Lady H. Oh! with pleasure....
Sophy. I beg his Lordship would be seated.
Miss F. I am really shocked at crouding you in such a manner, but my Grandmother (who bought all the furniture of this room) as she had never a very large Party, did not think it necessary to buy more Chairs than were sufficient for her own family and two of her particular freinds.
Sophy. I beg you will make no apologies. Your Brother is very light.
Stanly. aside What a cherub is Cloe!
Cloe. aside What a seraph is Stanly!
Enter a Servant.
Servant. Dinner is on table.
They all rise.
Miss F. Lady Hampton, Miss Hampton, Miss Willoughby.
Stanly hands Cloe; Lord Fitzgerald, Sophy; Willoughby, Miss Fitzgerald; and Sir Arthur, Lady Hampton
Exeunt.

Scene the 2d
The Dining Parlour.

Miss Fitzgerald at top. Lord Fitzgerald at bottom.
Company ranged on each side. Servants waiting.

Cloe. I shall trouble Mr. Stanly for a Little of the fried Cow heel & Onion.
Stanly. Oh Madam, there is a secret pleasure in helping so amiable a Lady. --
Lady H. I assure you, my Lord, Sir Arthur never touches wine; but Sophy will toss off a bumper I am sure, to oblige your Lordship.
Lord F. Elder wine or Mead, Miss Hampton?
Sophy. If it is equal to you, Sir, I should prefer some warm ale with a toast and nutmeg.
Lord F. Two glasses of warmed ale with a toast and nutmeg.
Miss F. I am afraid, Mr. Willoughby, you take no care of yourself. I fear you don't meet with any thing to your liking.
Willoughby. Oh! Madam, I can want for nothing while there are red herrings on table.
Lord F. Sir Arthur, taste that Tripe. I think you will not find it amiss.
Lady H. Sir Arthur never eats Tripe; tis too savoury for him, you know, my Lord.
Miss F. Take away the Liver & Crow, & bring in the suet pudding.
(a short Pause.)
Miss F. Sir Arthur, shan't I send you a bit of pudding?
Lady H. Sir Arthur never eats suet pudding, Ma'am. It is too high a Dish for him.
Miss F. Will no one allow me the honour of helping them? Then John, take away the Pudding, & bring the Wine.
Servants take away the things and bring in the Bottles & Glasses.
Lord F. I wish we had any Desert to offer you. But my Grandmother in her Lifetime, destroyed the Hothouse in order to build a receptacle for the Turkies with its materials; & we have never been able to raise another tolerable one.
Lady H. I beg you will make no apologies, my Lord.
Willoughby. Come Girls, let us circulate the Bottle.
Sophy. A very good notion, Cousin; & I will second it with all my Heart. Stanly, you don't drink.
Stanly. Madam, I am drinking draughts of Love from Cloe's eyes.
Sophy. That's poor nourishment truly. Come, drink to her better acquaintance.
Miss Fitzgerald goes to a Closet & brings out a bottle
Miss F. This, Ladies & Gentlemen, is some of my dear Grandmother's own manufacture. She excelled in Gooseberry Wine. Pray taste it, Lady Hampton
Lady H. How refreshing it is!
Miss F. I should think, with your Ladyship's permission, that Sir Arthur might taste a little of it.
Lady H. Not for Worlds. Sir Arthur never drinks any thing so high.
Lord F. And now my amiable Sophia, condescend to marry me.
He takes her hand & leads her to the front
Stanly. Oh! Cloe, could I but hope you would make me blessed --
Cloe. I will.
They advance.
Miss F. Since you, Willoughby, are the only one left, I cannot refuse your earnest solicitations -- There is my Hand.
Lady H. And may you all be Happy!

Finis.

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