My Long-Awaited Jane Austen Pilgrimage

Ever since I read a picture story of Mansfield Park when I was a child, I have been a Jane Austen fan. It was one of several stories within an Annual, probably Look-in or Blue Peter or something (do they still make Annuals?). At the time, of course, I’d never heard of Jane Austen but I loved the story and as I grew up I read more of her work including Emma, Persuasion and Sense & Sensibility. I never actually read Pride & Prejudice which is probably her most well-known work, but thanks to the BBC adaptation which I have watched many times (and not just for the Mr Darcy lake scene - cheeky ;) ), I pretty much know it word for word. 

In Jane Austen's Footsteps

Jane Austen spent a lot of time in Bath, a place I have visited many times, including the Jane Austen Museum and the Pump Rooms etc. I’ve also spent many a pleasant afternoon on the Cobb at Lyme Regis where Persuasion is partly set.

I love visiting places and imagining who was there before me, walking on the same flagstones, looking at the same views and a visit to Jane’s House in Chawton had long been on my list of places to see. So to celebrate 10 years of meeting my now-husband for the first time, we planned to take a little tripette away and I decided it would be to Chawton, or Winchester to be more precise.

A Day Winchester

We spent the first day in Winchester where we found 8 College Street, the house in which Jane sadly died at the age of 41, in 1817. She’d moved to Winchester when she became ill to be nearer to her doctor, but she could not be saved. She was laid to rest in Winchester Cathedral which was the next stop on my pilgrimage. I love the inscription on her tomb which reads:

In memory of JANE AUSTEN.

Youngest daughter of the late Rev. George Austen formerly Rector of Steventon in this County. She departed this life on the 18th of July 1817, aged 41, after a long illness supported with the patience and hopes of a Christian.

The benevolence of her heart, the sweetness of her temper, and the extraordinary endowments of her mind obtained the regard of all who knew her and the warmest love of her intimate connections.

Their grief is in proportion to their affection, they know their loss to be irreparable, but in their deepest affliction, they are now consoled with a firm though humble hope that her charity, devotion, faith and purity, have rendered her soul acceptable in the sight of her Redeemer.

Chawton Cottage

The next day we went back in time to the village of Chawton where Jane spent the last eight years of her life from where she finished and published her six greatest works. The house was provided to them rent-free by her brother, Edward, who had inherited the large Chawton House estate from some wealthy relations. Jane lived here with her mother, her beloved sister, Cassandra and her friend Martha Lloyd, from 1809. 

Unfortunately, when we visited in January, the house was surrounded by scaffolding due to works to save the deteriorating roof and in turn, the valuable treasures within. Even with the scaffolding and the inclement weather, the house felt homely and well-loved. As Jane was most productive and creative here we can happily assume she was comfortable and enjoyed living here in this female-orientated household. Judging by the piano in the drawing-room and the patchwork quilt stitched by all four ladies, I imagined them sitting in the cosy parlour having fun and discussing the affairs of the day, a happy little brood.

Of course, the piece de resistance is Jane’s writing desk which is teeny-tiny. Sitting by the window for the best light and next to the fire to avoid the draught, she was an incredibly tidy writer, #writinggoals.

What I found most interesting ironically, is the mundane. The hallways and staircases in which she walked, possibly preoccupied with thoughts of her characters, on her way to other rooms of the house, such as her small bedroom carrying a candle or the drawing-room to entertain neighbours and friends.

One other piece, albeit tiny, that moved me was a small turquoise ring that she actually wore. It’s not known whether someone bought it for her or if she bought it herself, and to be honest, I’m torn. Half of me wants someone who loved her to have bought it for her, something she wore daily and cherished. The other half of me hopes she bought it for herself out of the money she made from publishing her novels. A woman who earned her independent means by her own skill and creativity. Either way, I’m sure she adored that turquoise ring.

This ring, the delicate lace scarf she made with her own fair hands, her writing desk and the first bound edition of Pride & Prejudice (safely locked away behind toughened glass) are the main treasures I will take away from Chawton (not literally taken of course, that would be theft).

Tea & Cassandra

While we were in the village we stopped for a coffee at Cassandra’s Tea Room, which, situated opposite Jane’s house, is very quaint with teacups hanging from the ceiling. Named after Jane’s sister, Cassandra, it’s a lovely little spot to view the house (had it not been ensconced in scaffolding). Although Jane had several brothers, she had just the one sister, Cassandra, and they were very close. My own sister once bought me a book of Jane and Cassandra’s letters to each other which are fascinating, so I just wanted to pay a mini-homage to Cassandra (and all sisters) while I was there.

If you are a Jane Austen fan I sincerely recommend a trip to Chawton, visit the house, wander the village streets (much of which would have looked the same in Jane’s day), and give a little nod to Cassandra, as we all need someone in our corner, to encourage us and support us and to tell us about the latest trend in bonnets. Behind every great woman is a sister/friend/sisterhood who allows us to shine.

Jane Austen, 1775-1817: I have lost a treasure, such a sister, such a friend as never can have been surpassed. She was the sun of my life, the gilder of every pleasure, the soother of every sorrow; I had not a thought concealed from her, and it is as if I had lost a part of myself. I loved her only too well — not better than she deserved, but I am conscious that my affection for her made me sometimes unjust to and negligent of others; and I can acknowledge, more than as a general principle, the justice of the Hand which has struck this blow.

Cassandra to Fanny Knight, July 20, 1817, two days after her beloved sister’s death

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