An Austen family tree
Dear friends and readers,
An article with new significant information about the Austen family and slavery has been published by the Times Literary Supplement for May 21, 2021: Devoney Looser’s “Breaking the Silence.” Unfortunately it’s behind a paywall, and, as a TLS paper and digital subscriber, the only way I can access the online article is through an app on my ipad (which I have never succeeded in downloading). A complicated app arrangement effectively prevents me from reading, much less sharing the text (History Today plays the same game). I have read the paper version and so share the article by summarizing the content — and offering a few comments on the article and topic. I add material as well.
Castle Ashby, Northamptonshire; one of a number of country houses who are currently candidates as inspiration for Mansfield Park
It’s been long known that Jane Austen’s father, George had economic and social ties to a West Indian plantation through his familial relations and friendships. Looser sets out to correct misinformation, exaggeration, and confused muddles. Briefly, George Austen met James Langford Nibbs at Oxford where he may have been a tutor or proctor. Nibbs’s second son was sent home to be educated by George Austen among his other male pupils at Steventon. George married Nibbs to Barbara Langford (an heiress) in a London church; Nibbs chose the George Austen to educate his second son in the school set up in the parsonage; and George was co-trustee in a marriage settlement that involved disbursing legacies or funds for chosen relatives. The other co-trustee was Morris Robinson, brother to Elizabeth Montagu, a pivotal person among women intellectuals in Bath, London, and elsewhere. Looser suggests maybe we could find more connection between this famous bluestocking and Jane, at the same time as she dissociates George from direct economic activity and any personal gain from slavery. It was the tenant or owner who directly directed what happened on and to the property and it was probably Morris Robinson who managed the trust.
On Jane’s naval brothers: Looser goes on to Francis and Charles who it has been known for some time had abolitionist sympathies. She requotes the quotations usually cited. She does not mention that Francis was known as a severe flogger — pressing is a form of kidnapping and in effect enslaving white men for a period of time; flogging them to force them to do the work they were kidnapped to do is horrible. She also omits Francis’s awards from the imperialistic investments and insurers (part of what any captain who was successful in ventures would get); these Brian Southam tries to list and finds to have been modest (Jane Austen and the Navy, p 120-21).
As to Henry, it seems that late in life Henry Austen attended an 1840 anti-slavery convention in London and heard Thomas Clarkson, whose writings Jane in a letter said she admired so much, speak. He was not among those painted by Benjamin Robert Hayden in a well-known picture of the people who attended this convention, but he was one of two delegates for Colchester where he was a clergyman. We cannot know what if anything he actively did besides show up. I wrote a short life of Henry Austen for this blog (from research I did and articles I read before Clery’s book on Henry as a banker came out) and discovered that in his career as a military man he attended a court martial of men (again originally pressed) who had mutinied. So equally he publicly supported harsh cruel punishment of men kidnapped and in effect enslaved. Henry’s motives for attending public political spectacles seem to me problematic.
Charlotte Haywood (Rose Williams) and Georgiana Lambe (Crystal Clarke) becoming friends in the ITV Sanditon
Of course the real interest in finding all this out is what were Jane Austen’s attitudes, and it seems from Looser’s account (on my own reading of the letters here on this blog over 3 years) on the whole Austen was quietly anti-slavery. The evidence consists of her admiration for Thomas Clarkson’s writings (not specified, it must be admitted, what she admires Clarkson for). In Mansfield Park there is Fanny Price’s famous question to her exhausted uncle home from Antigua where “the slave trade” was central to extracting wealth; his answer is not told but rather our attention is directed to how silent his children become, and we are to see them as arrogant, ignorant or indifferent about slavery or their father’s hard work, or uncomfortable that such a subject is brought up — or perhaps feeling Fanny is showing off in front of her uncle (a suspicion her girl cousins feel about her when younger). Looser also mentions Austen’s “mixed race West Indian heiress named Miss Lambe” in the unfinished Sanditon: this character gets a lot of attention nowadays since the TV serial adaptation.
Jane Fairfax (Laurie Pypher) telling Emma she has been “exhausted for a very long time” and needs to go back to her aunt’s small apartment (2009 BBC Emma, scripted Sandy Welch)
Alas, Looser is another critic who (to me) mysteriously overlooks Emma, where the amount of concrete specific reference to slavery is, if anything, far longer and interestingly complicated with women’s subjection than the single dramatic dialogue (a passage) in Mansfield Park. Jane Fairfax likens governessing to slavery, and employment offices to marketplaces dealing in selling human flesh (she does not allude to anything sexual in the masters of such houses, but rather the body and strength of the repressed hard-worked young woman who puts herself in service to caste-ridden households). Mrs Elton (an heiress herself) takes up Jane’s allusion to deny that her brother-in-law’s wealth (and Maple Grove, the mansion and estate she has so boasted about) owe anything to “the slave trade;” maybe not, but Bristol was one of the ports where enslaved people were brought, held, sold, and she and her family hail from there.
Looser concludes by addressing and also talking about those whom she suggests resist such discussions and says their silence is wrong, a form of erasure of the full context of Austen’s world and books. Silence today is collusion and complicity with enslavement — in the way the Bertrams’ cousins’ silence feels like in Mansfield Park.
Ellen
Reveries Under the Sign of Austen, Two 
People in the Austen scholarly worlds will note that this article appears and in this central place not long after Deirdre LeFaye’s death. LeFaye was one of those (she in effect led a school of people and fans by her scholarship) who interpreted everything about the Austen’s in a way the original family would have approved of. For example, she argued vociferously against the truth that Jane’s Aunt Jane stole the lace, that Eliza de Feuillide was Hastings’s biological daughter, and in general against anything that could hurt the image of the Austens as super-respectable, conventional establishment people, conservative in politics, with the daughter’s books apolitical comedies, Christian, moral, her letters basically innocuous with nothing missing that mattered. Silence and obfuscation were two of LeFaye’s tools as may be seen in the notes to her edition of Jane Austen’s letters — for example, reading them you would never know that Austen was at Eliza de Feuillide’s death bed, never know precisely when Eliza died and that the letters from London afterwards record Jane keeping Henry company during the early stages of his grief; never know that Martha Lloyd was among those near Austen just around the days she died &c&c.
I’ll mention too that in the article Looser in passing implies Said got Mansfield Park wrong in his books: she refers to how he accused Austen of not paying attention to the colonialism aspect of Mansfield Park or slavery. He wrote about Austen’s novel more than once, qualifying or clarifying why he used it in the way he did. Recently colonial studies has been critiquing Said’s use of the term orientalism, pushing back (as they say) against it. But it is fair to say that to him we partly owe the whole angle the discipline of post-colonial studies founds itself on. See Adam Schatz’s moderate defense and explanation in his “Palestinianism,” in the London Review of Books for May 6, 2021, ostensibly a review of a new biography: Timothy Brennan’s A Life of Mind: A Life of Edward Said: https://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v43/n09/adam-shatz/palestinianism (this too probably behind a paywall).
in response to someone who claimed LeFaye was a harmless eccentric:
LeFaye was a pro-active reactionary. She bullied people — I was told of her insulting people in front of others. David Nokes was humiliated by her — he wrote one of the modern biographies. He tried to laugh it off in order not to get her worse on his side but he must’ve hated her. She wrote reviews attacking people. Her favorite way of doing this was to accuse them of errors. Halperin, she said, had 333 errors. She was vehement over the ODNB life by Marilyn Butler. If you looked, you find her errors are arguments over interpretation. She was stout how she wasn’t interpreting but she was doing it all the time. And overtly lying. So she knew Henry’s letter to Hastings is over-the-top sycophancy, so she’s put it in the back. I find her edition of the letters awful. She never tells events you need to know (like between these letters Jane came to London, Eliza died); she tells family stuff which we don’t need to know in long notes. Her appendix headers are confusing. Her vaunted chronology is filled with interpretations as if known dates. Gillian Dow wrote an obituary in which she tried to convey very politely some of this. The evidence is overwhelming that Eliza was Hastings’ daughter — from hiding the money, to who married her, to her making a loving cup for Hastings when she was much older — this was not needed flattery. LeFaye did not act out an harmless eccentricity – she prevented real knowledge from going forward.
Dear Ellen, No need to post this comment, but I am happy to help you with digital subscriptions sometimes. I have some thoughts, and capacities.
Thank you.