It’s hard to believe this is the final chapter of Volume One. Charlotte is engaged to Mr. Collins and the Netherfield party has left Hertfordshire. Mrs. Bennet is beyond upset at Elizabeth’s refusal to Mr. Collins can’t stop lamenting over the entail of Longbourn.
Elizabeth was sitting with her mother and sisters, reflecting on what she had heard, and doubting whether she was authorised to mention it, when Sir William Lucas himself appeared, sent by his daughter, to announce her engagement to the family. With many compliments to them, and much self-gratulation on the prospect of a connection between the houses, he unfolded the matter—to an audience not merely wondering, but incredulous; for Mrs. Bennet, with more perseverance than politeness, protested he must be entirely mistaken; and Lydia, always unguarded and often uncivil, boisterously exclaimed:
“Good Lord! Sir William, how can you tell such a story? Do not you know that Mr. Collins wants to marry Lizzy?”
Nothing less than the complaisance of a courtier could have borne without anger such treatment; but Sir William’s good breeding carried him through it all; and though he begged leave to be positive as to the truth of his information, he listened to all their impertinence with the most forbearing courtesy.
Elizabeth, feeling it incumbent on her to relieve him from so unpleasant a situation, now put herself forward to confirm his account, by mentioning her prior knowledge of it from Charlotte herself; and endeavoured to put a stop to the exclamations of her mother and sisters by the earnestness of her congratulations to Sir William, in which she was readily joined by Jane, and by making a variety of remarks on the happiness that might be expected from the match, the excellent character of Mr. Collins, and the convenient distance of Hunsford from London.
Mrs. Bennet was in fact too much overpowered to say a great deal while Sir William remained; but no sooner had he left them than her feelings found a rapid vent. In the first place, she persisted in disbelieving the whole of the matter; secondly, she was very sure that Mr. Collins had been taken in; thirdly, she trusted that they would never be happy together; and fourthly, that the match might be broken off. Two inferences, however, were plainly deduced from the whole: one, that Elizabeth was the real cause of the mischief; and the other that she herself had been barbarously misused by them all; and on these two points she principally dwelt during the rest of the day. Nothing could console and nothing could appease her. Nor did that day wear out her resentment. A week elapsed before she could see Elizabeth without scolding her, a month passed away before she could speak to Sir William or Lady Lucas without being rude, and many months were gone before she could at all forgive their daughter.
Jane confessed herself a little surprised at the match; but she said less of her astonishment than of her earnest desire for their happiness; nor could Elizabeth persuade her to consider it as improbable. Kitty and Lydia were far from envying Miss Lucas, for Mr. Collins was only a clergyman; and it affected them in no other way than as a piece of news to spread at Meryton.
Lady Lucas could not be insensible of triumph on being able to retort on Mrs. Bennet the comfort of having a daughter well married; and she called at Longbourn rather oftener than usual to say how happy she was, though Mrs. Bennet’s sour looks and ill-natured remarks might have been enough to drive happiness away.
Between Elizabeth and Charlotte there was a restraint which kept them mutually silent on the subject; and Elizabeth felt persuaded that no real confidence could ever subsist between them again. Her disappointment in Charlotte made her turn with fonder regard to her sister, of whose rectitude and delicacy she was sure her opinion could never be shaken, and for whose happiness she grew daily more anxious, as Bingley had now been gone a week and nothing more was heard of his return.
Jane had sent Caroline an early answer to her letter, and was counting the days till she might reasonably hope to hear again. The promised letter of thanks from Mr. Collins arrived on Tuesday, addressed to their father, and written with all the solemnity of gratitude which a twelvemonth’s abode in the family might have prompted. After discharging his conscience on that head, he proceeded to inform them, with many rapturous expressions, of his happiness in having obtained the affection of their amiable neighbour, Miss Lucas, and then explained that it was merely with the view of enjoying her society that he had been so ready to close with their kind wish of seeing him again at Longbourn, whither he hoped to be able to return on Monday fortnight; for Lady Catherine, he added, so heartily approved his marriage, that she wished it to take place as soon as possible, which he trusted would be an unanswerable argument with his amiable Charlotte to name an early day for making him the happiest of men.
Mr. Collins’s return into Hertfordshire was no longer a matter of pleasure to Mrs. Bennet. On the contrary, she was as much disposed to complain of it as her husband. It was very strange that he should come to Longbourn instead of to Lucas Lodge; it was also very inconvenient and exceedingly troublesome. She hated having visitors in the house while her health was so indifferent, and lovers were of all people the most disagreeable. Such were the gentle murmurs of Mrs. Bennet, and they gave way only to the greater distress of Mr. Bingley’s continued absence.
Neither Jane nor Elizabeth were comfortable on this subject. Day after day passed away without bringing any other tidings of him than the report which shortly prevailed in Meryton of his coming no more to Netherfield the whole winter; a report which highly incensed Mrs. Bennet, and which she never failed to contradict as a most scandalous falsehood.
Even Elizabeth began to fear—not that Bingley was indifferent—but that his sisters would be successful in keeping him away. Unwilling as she was to admit an idea so destructive of Jane’s happiness, and so dishonorable to the stability of her lover, she could not prevent its frequently occurring. The united efforts of his two unfeeling sisters and of his overpowering friend, assisted by the attractions of Miss Darcy and the amusements of London might be too much, she feared, for the strength of his attachment.
As for Jane, her anxiety under this suspense was, of course, more painful than Elizabeth’s, but whatever she felt she was desirous of concealing, and between herself and Elizabeth, therefore, the subject was never alluded to. But as no such delicacy restrained her mother, an hour seldom passed in which she did not talk of Bingley, express her impatience for his arrival, or even require Jane to confess that if he did not come back she would think herself very ill used. It needed all Jane’s steady mildness to bear these attacks with tolerable tranquillity.
Mr. Collins returned most punctually on Monday fortnight, but his reception at Longbourn was not quite so gracious as it had been on his first introduction. He was too happy, however, to need much attention; and luckily for the others, the business of love-making relieved them from a great deal of his company. The chief of every day was spent by him at Lucas Lodge, and he sometimes returned to Longbourn only in time to make an apology for his absence before the family went to bed.
Mrs. Bennet was really in a most pitiable state. The very mention of anything concerning the match threw her into an agony of ill-humour, and wherever she went she was sure of hearing it talked of. The sight of Miss Lucas was odious to her. As her successor in that house, she regarded her with jealous abhorrence. Whenever Charlotte came to see them, she concluded her to be anticipating the hour of possession; and whenever she spoke in a low voice to Mr. Collins, was convinced that they were talking of the Longbourn estate, and resolving to turn herself and her daughters out of the house, as soon as Mr. Bennet were dead. She complained bitterly of all this to her husband.
“Indeed, Mr. Bennet,” said she, “it is very hard to think that Charlotte Lucas should ever be mistress of this house, that I should be forced to make way for her, and live to see her take her place in it!”
“My dear, do not give way to such gloomy thoughts. Let us hope for better things. Let us flatter ourselves that I may be the survivor.”
This was not very consoling to Mrs. Bennet, and therefore, instead of making any answer, she went on as before.
“I cannot bear to think that they should have all this estate. If it was not for the entail, I should not mind it.”
“What should not you mind?”
“I should not mind anything at all.”
“Let us be thankful that you are preserved from a state of such insensibility.”
“I never can be thankful, Mr. Bennet, for anything about the entail. How anyone could have the conscience to entail away an estate from one’s own daughters, I cannot understand; and all for the sake of Mr. Collins too! Why should he have it more than anybody else?”
“I leave it to yourself to determine,” said Mr. Bennet.
So, the entail is the root of the problems for the future of the Bennet family! Not so fast says Georgia Law! In an article written by Peter A. Appel, which describes in great detail how Austen may have misrepresented the legalities of entails in “Pride and Prejudice.” The article claims that Mr. Bennet could have made use of something called the strict settlement, which could have allowed his immediate family to retain possession of Longbourn. The article says:
The law of property and literary depictions of that body of law provide several instances of this phenomenon, none more prominent than the entailment in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. The entailment has figured into many other literary works-from Trollope’s novels to the recent PBS series Downton Abbe-but Pride and Prejudice stands out as the most prominent example.
This is the first time I have been made aware of this idea and the article, which begins to discuss Austen’s use of the entail in her story, on page 611, provides some new food for thought on this legal matter for me. In the article, it also asserts:
“Austen created a nice melodrama, but she nevertheless got the law wrong. At the time that Austen wrote, it would have been extremely unlikely that a landed family like the Bennets would have used the entailment standing alone as the legal means of keeping Longbourn within the family. More likely, they would have used a device known as the strict settlement, which is explained in more detail below. It was also extremely rare (although not impossible) that a strict settlement would have been arranged to cut off close relations like the Bennet daughters. If the restriction on Longbourn was an entailment standing alone-which would have in all likelihood cut off any provision for the Bennet daughters-then the current life tenant (i.e., Mr. Bennet) could have ” ‘barr[ed]’ the entail.”‘ This term means that Mr. Bennet could have stopped the property from going to Mr. Collins through a fairly simple legal proceeding. After that, he could have left it to whomever he wished: Jane, the eldest daughter; Elizabeth, his clear favorite; or all five of his daughters in whatever shares he chose.”
So why did Austen write about the entail in this manner? The article goes on to claim:
Austen was an extremely sharp observer of many social realities and, particularly, the social rules regarding property settlements. Either she knew or she did not know about the legal details of the entailment when she used it as a central plot device in Pride and Prejudice. Either way, Austen’s use of the entailment illustrates the enormous gap that can exist between law and the way that society observes law.
The author also says that:
My ultimate conclusion is that, whether or not Austen or her audience knew about the ins and outs of the entailment, we have much to learn about the relationship between a society and its law from this literary treatment of law.
Even though we will probably never know if Austen knew all of the legalities surrounding entails and strict settlements, the author concludes with:
Austen’s Pride and Prejudice illustrates the often unnoticed tensions between a society and its law. Austen may have used the entailment of Longbourn as nothing more than a convenient plot device, one that neither she nor her audience fully understood or cared to understand fully.
(I have made similar observations about the Rule Against Perpetuities. (See Peter A. Appel, The Embarrassing Rule Against Perpetuities, 54 J. LEGAL EDUC. 264, 278 (2004). AUSTEN, supra note 10, at 123. 2013] 635 636 GA. J. INT’L & COMP. L. [Vol. 41:609)
Law misunderstood by literary authors reflected poorly in literature supplies an interesting commentary on the relationship between law and society. The entailment of Longbourn worked well as a motif and impetus for relationships because people cared then (as now) more about blossoming romance between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy than the technicalities of land law in England. As Alan Watson has taught us, however, people should care about both to avoid funhouse mirror distortions.
I am certainly not an Austen scholar or a legal expert in any manner; however, I hope you found some of these ideas here to be thought-provoking. Do they diverge from your present ideas about entails? Please share your feedback about the ideas raised in this article and feel free to share any information that confirms or conflicts the ideas presented in this article.
As we wrap up Volume One, I’d love to hear your thoughts on what we have read and discussed so far, what your enjoy about our weekly chats and any suggestions you have for future posts. I am trying to put together a multi-media presentation of this past volume. If I am successful, I will certainly share it with my readers!
But mostly, I just want to give a HUGE thank you to the Just Jane 1813 readers who join me here each week and leave us with terrific food for thought! This series would never work without your time, energies and delightful remarks! Thank you from the bottom of my heart!