What Jane Austen Didn't Tell Us!. Austen Alliance
of his temper. He begged him to pay heed to his hurried explanations of dueling etiquette.
Freddie accompanied Humphrey at the appointed time. Pistols were selected, and the men positioned themselves. Following the protocol for minor disagreements, his opponent fired straight into the air. Humphrey, forgetting Freddie’s instruction, took aim and shot his adversary in the forearm. There was now nothing to be done. Freddie angrily pulled his friend away from the bloody scene, bundled him into the carriage, and drove off in disgust.
Humphrey was now a laughingstock among the smart set in London. The young widow’s refusal to see him completed his humiliation. Devastated, he decided to flee wretched London, go far, far away, and never return. A rueful Freddie bade his naïve friend safe travels when later that same week Humphrey departed for the Continent.
Rome was balm for Humphrey’s injured pride. He lost himself in the streets of the sun-filled city, visiting the Colosseum, the Palatine Hill, the imposing new Trevi fountain! The city reignited the passions of happier days at University. Books were once again his refuge. They engaged his intellect but made no demands upon him for action or responsibility. He studied dusty manuscripts in dim libraries and became acquainted with other scholars, but he made no friends.
He tried not to dwell on his London disaster, but when inevitably he did, he reviled Freddie’s haughty friends and heaped sarcasm on his own callow performance: What a bumpkin fool I was! In future, if I face embarrassing or annoying circumstances, I will be the first to render sardonic judgment, he vowed.
After some time he received an urgent letter from his father, bidding him to quit Rome. Mr. Bennet was ailing and demanded that his son return and assume his responsibilities as heir to Longbourn. A chastened Humphrey booked passage home, recollecting how his parent, shocked but uncomplaining, had agreed to a hasty Grand Tour upon learning of his son’s humiliating escapade.
Arriving home, the Prodigal was relieved to find his father’s health improved but still fragile. Mrs. Hill, the housekeeper, ran the house with smooth efficiency, happily requiring no direction from the young master. Humphrey therefore lost no time in commandeering his mother’s shuttered parlor for his own use. That blessed space would become his “library,” a place to hold her books as well as his own—plus those rarities he had shipped home from Rome. He was blithely directing the butler in unpacking crates one morning when his father appeared at the door.
“Humphrey, what do you think you are doing?”
“Setting up my library, sir.
Mr. Bennet dismissed the butler and said: “Good God, I did not send for you to continue your long holiday back here! Longbourn is a large and complex estate and requires your full attention! Stop fiddling with those volumes immediately and assume your obligations as my heir. This you must do, if not for me, then for the benefit of your future sons and all the people who depend upon us!”
Humphrey was mortified: How selfish I have been! I was not summoned home to amuse myself but to relieve my poor father of responsibility for the estate.
In a low voice he asked: “Where would you suggest I begin, Father?”
“Start by meeting with our manager, Schilling. You can trust him; you have known him since you were a lad. But you will soon be master here, and it will be your responsibility to give him direction. Mr. Gardiner in Meryton is our attorney. Pay him a visit. Learn something of the property laws. And for God’s sake, give up this so-called ‘library’ until you have mastered the fundamentals of husbandry!”
Under Schilling’s expert direction, Humphrey began to grasp the tedious details of managing the estate. He was appalled to find their tenants’ disputes dishearteningly repetitious in nature and often not accepting of resolution. Do none of them grasp the simple principles of logic? After several weeks’ determined application to arables and livestock, he paid a call on the attorney, reasoning that the property laws could not possibly be as boring as drainage problems.
Arriving, he was stunned to see the most beautiful young woman he had ever beheld. Mr. Gardiner introduced Jane, his younger daughter, to a bedazzled Humphrey. The enticing Miss Jane dropped a deep curtsey, her abundant enticements felicitously revealed as she sank almost to the floor while murmuring a polite, “How d’ye do, Mr. Bennet?”
Humphrey barely managed, “I am tolerably well, Miss Jane.” His mind was more taken up with the question: Where has this magnificent creature been all my life?
Jane bade Humphrey and her father farewell, saying, “Now that you are home, Mr. Bennet, I hope we will see you at the next Assembly. We ladies always enjoy new partners, especially gentlemen who have a great deal of fascinating conversation.” Then she was gone.
Humphrey was forced to remain behind for the lamentable exigencies of business. How her eyes did look into mine, and with such admiration! What a delightful creature she is!
He left Meryton smiling broadly, blind to the world as he rode slowly home. The substance of his meeting with Mr. Gardiner all but dissolved as he mused over this unexpected encounter with the living Aphrodite. For the first time in years he cursed his abysmal inexperience with the ladies, particularly suitable young ladies.
Cross-questioned about the visit by his father that evening, he waxed eloquent over the charms of the beautiful Miss Jane Gardiner. Mr. Bennet was annoyed that so little actual legal information had been absorbed, but relieved that his son expressed interest in a young woman. He had feared that Humphrey, so solitary and scholarly, at twenty-nine might remain unmarried. Without a Bennet heir, Longbourn, entailed to the male line, would be lost forever to their irritating cousins by the name of Collins.
When the next local Assembly was announced, Humphrey purchased a ticket with great anticipation. Entering the ballroom, he immediately saw Jane Gardiner surrounded by handsome young Militia officers all vying for her attention. But the reigning beauty beckoned him over and whispered, “I hoped you would come, Mr. Bennet, I saved a dance for you!”
What good fortune! When he, a rusty but competent dancer, offered his arm for the Boulanger, he was almost overcome by her assenting smile and eyes that seemed to cast themselves on no one else in the room.
Armed with a modest bouquet of white crocuses, he visited the Gardiner home the very next day. Ushered into the parlor, he was greeted by Mrs. Gardiner who introduced her older daughter, Catherine. Miss Jane greeted him warmly. They sat stiffly. “What lovely spring weather we are having,” Mrs. Gardiner began.
“But the state of the roads is disgraceful after all that rain last week!” helpfully offered Catherine.
“Have the roads dried out yet, Mr. Bennet?” pointedly asked adorable Jane.
Taking a hint from her speaking eyes, Humphrey opined, “By tomorrow the roads will be passable. I wonder if you young ladies would accept my invitation to take a drive?”
Jane and Catherine eagerly accepted.
The outing was a great success. Both young women listened with rapt expressions to his comprehensive history of the countryside through which they passed. Humphrey felt greatly encouraged.
There were family dinners at her house, and walks and carriage rides and another dance or two. Humphrey had completely lost his heart to the lovely, amiably complaisant Miss Jane Gardiner. For the first time, he felt he truly understood the immortal Shakespeare: “She’s beautiful, and therefore to be wooed ...”
His admiration knew no bounds! A month after having met her, Humphrey announced to his father that he intended to ask for Miss Jane Gardiner’s hand. Mr. Bennet was too thankful that Humphrey was finally taking a step toward extending the Bennet line to refuse his blessing. The elder Mr. Bennet never thought to question whether the daughter of a Meryton attorney, especially one so very animated and untutored, was a fit lifelong companion for his son.
So Humphrey carefully memorized several lines from Shakespeare with which to “woo” Miss Jane. He began: “Oh, darling Jane, ‘Hear my soul speak. Of the very instant that I saw you ...’”
His darling giggled entrancingly