My Miss Austen
Jane Austen is idolised while her sister Cassandra is demonised. Now author Gill Hornby wants to set the record straight
BBC
- Gill Hornby
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My novel, Miss Austen, was first published in 2020. It had taken only two years to write but, looking back, the idea of it had been brewing for decades. I had loved Austen’s novels since school, but I didn’t engage with the story of her life until much later. In fact, it wasn’t the novelist herself but her sister, Cassandra, who really drew me in.
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My family moved to the village of Kintbury, in west Berkshire, more than 30 years ago. It was then that I learnt of Cassandra’s connection to the place where we now live. Jane’s older sister had been engaged to Tom Fowle, the son of the village vicar; theirs had been considered by their families to be the perfect match. She visited often, her mind full of plans for the future and hopes for a good, Christian family life there. And then tragedy intervened when Tom died and Cassandra found herself cast into the perilous world of the well-bred but borderline impoverished Georgian single woman.
The thought of her life started to haunt me. On gloomy dark January mornings, while bundling my half-asleep kids out of the door to school, I would imagine poor Cassy, shivering in a shawl, kissing her fiancé goodbye for the last time. On sunny, summer afternoons, I could see her visiting here years later, out on the lawn, remembering her youth and wondering how very different life could have been. I formed a firm – almost unshakeable – idea of the woman she was: noble, courageous, admirable. She had my sympathy, but also my deepest respect.
Miss Austen author Gill Hornby. Richard Grassie
Quite by chance, I was asked, nearly 20 years ago, to write a short biography of Jane Austen for children. It was only when I began my research that I learnt that not everyone shared my opinion. Indeed, to my astonishment, it seemed that my lovely Cassandra was a rather controversial player in the Austen story.
Biographers resent her for burning most of Jane’s letters. How dare she, when they want – are entitled – to ferret about in her secrets? And the nieces and nephews who had recorded their memories of the saintly Jane had no time for Cassandra at all. By comparison, they presented her as a dry, solemn, old maiden aunt – dutiful but dull. To them, she had no more than a bit part in the quiet drama of Austen’s life. It was so disappointing…
But then I turned to the evidence of the remaining letters themselves. There, I found a whole different story – one that completely, and happily, accorded with my own, very fixed view.
Jane Austen’s life was sadly short. She was 41 when she died in her dear sister’s arms, and Cassandra was in grief for the rest of her days. As the only girls in a large family of menfolk, the two had been joined at the hip. They were much more than siblings: they were the deepest of friends. When they were forced apart by family commitments they missed each other greatly and would have written many hundreds of letters, sharing confidences and intimacies that we will never know. When she was about 70 years old, according to a witness, Cassandra sat down, read through them all and destroyed the majority.
Biographers resent Cassy for burning most of Jane's letters
Gill Hornby
But from the 161 that survived this culling, we can still learn enough to form a picture of the relationship between these two extraordinary women. They are all in Jane’s hand – sadly, Cassandra did not spare her own replies – and they prove that, whatever anyone else may think, Jane worshipped her elder sister. She adored hearing her gossip – “You truly are one of the great comic writers of our age,” she wrote. She depended on her advice. She wouldn’t even dare trim a bonnet without asking Cassy’s opinion.
Towards the end of Jane’s life, when she was struck down with the illness that would eventually kill her and Cassandra was called away to nurse another relation, Jane wrote to her sister to say that she shouldn’t worry unduly: “I was ill at the time of your going purely from the fact of your going.” She had clearly reached a state of utter emotional dependency.
Engraving of Jane Austen and her sister Cassandra, dated 1810. Getty
Jane Austen did not suffer fools. Though not faultless herself by any means, her sharp mind made her alive to the faults of others. She deplored snobbery and any unkindness. She delighted in wit and perceptiveness. She had a proper appreciation of good lively conversation. And she admired her sister Cassandra above everyone else.
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Well, that was enough for me. What more could I ask? I could forget the biographers’ opinions and the uncharitable thoughts of the extended family. Cassandra – my Miss Austen – was indeed a quiet, noble heroine. And, as she began to haunt me again and yet more, I became determined to present her side of the story…
Authors
Gill Hornby
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