Chapter 6: Misconceptions
When Elizabeth returned to Longbourn – Darcy had declined her invitation to come inside – she discovered that Mr. Collins had just arrived.
Mr. Collins was a tall, heavy-looking young man of five-and-twenty. His air was grave and stately, and his manners were very formal. He had not been long seated before he complimented Mrs. Bennet excessively on having so fine a family of daughters, and all his flattery ended with a comment that he did not doubt her seeing them all in due time disposed of in marriage.
This gallantry was not much to the taste of some of his hearers; but Mrs. Bennet, who quarreled with no compliments, answered most readily. "You are very kind, I am sure, and I wish with all my heart it may prove so, for else they will be destitute enough. Things are settled so oddly."
"You allude, perhaps, to the situation of this estate."
"Ah! sir, I do indeed. It is a grievous affair to my poor girls, you must confess. Not that I mean to find fault with you, for such things I know are all chance in this world. There is no knowing how estates will go when once they come to be entailed."
"I am very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my fair cousins, and could say much on the subject, but that I am cautious of appearing forward and precipitate. But I can assure the young ladies that I come prepared to admire them. At present I will not say more; but, perhaps, when we are better acquainted –"
He was interrupted by a summons to dinner; Elizabeth despaired of being able to speak with her father privately. During the walk back to Longbourn, Mr. Darcy had obliged her many questions about how an entail could be barred, though he seemed to be under the impression that such questions were merely academic in nature.
The conversation during dinner was not sensible in the least, and Mr. Collins vied with Lydia to be the most insensible one at the table. Mr. Collins spoke on and on of his patroness, a Lady Catherine de Bourgh. He spoke of her stature and her beauty, the number of times she had invited him for dinner and the size of her dinning room, the design of her tea cups, the number of times she had visited his abode, and the minutiae of advice she had given on which vegetables he should plant in his garden.
Elizabeth soon stopped listening, and turned her mind back to the walk from Oakham Mount. Mr. Darcy had explained to her in detail how an entail could be barred and thus broken, but he had also mentioned a 'strict settlement', and how such instruments could not be set aside outside of an Act of Parliament. Elizabeth had little idea what a strict settlement was, and there had been no time on the return home to ask him.
She could hardly raise the topic at the dinner table and question her father, while Mr. Collins sat with them. Elizabeth glanced at Mr. Bennet; his expectations seemed fully answered as Mr. Collins was as absurd as anyone could have hoped, and Mr. Bennet listened to Mr. Collins with the keenest enjoyment, maintaining at the same time the most resolute composure of countenance. It was obvious to Elizabeth that her father was taking delight in the conduct of his cousin.
Tea-time gave Elizabeth no reprieve. Mr. Collins was to read to the ladies; she could not be so rude as to run off for a private discussion with her father. Mr. Collins refused to read novels, and his choice of book – Fordyce's Sermons – Lydia refused to silently listen to. After he was much offended by a thoughtless Lydia, Mr. Collins offered himself to Mr. Bennet as his antagonist at backgammon. Mr. Bennet accepted the challenge.
Elizabeth was finally free to leave, but Mr. Bennet unfortunately, was not.
It took until the following morning for Elizabeth to corner her father.
"Father, is Longbourn held in an entail, or a strict settlement?"
"I see you ran into Mr. Darcy yesterday. Why did he not come in?"
"I don't know, I didn't ask…how did you know that I ran into him?"
"Lizzy, I don't believe that there is anyone in our circle of acquaintances that would speak to you about estate matters such as entails and settlements."
Elizabeth sighed, and tried a different approach. She had never in her life been at odds with her father, and he had always been upfront with her. It was very hard for Elizabeth to comprehend what was happening right now.
"Father, how is it that you are discussing such private family matters with Mr. Darcy, a person so wholly unknown to our family?"
"I daresay that none of this constitute a private matter; your mother speaks of everything that happens under this roof with anyone who will listen."
"My mother does not speak to others. She complains, bitterly, mostly incoherently, without allowing anyone else a word. But why would you have cause to discuss such matters – such private, family matters – with Mr. Darcy?"
"Elizabeth, my child, as I told you yesterday, I cannot sanction the manner in which you found out about private matters by answering your questions about Mr. Darcy. Let me ask you this: how would you suppose Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley would feel, if they knew that you listened to their confidential conversation, and managed to receive more confidential information from me due to that?"
"I am baffled as to how you are prioritising one or two relative strangers over us! Mr. Bingley's attentions to Jane have become non-existent since his friend rode into town; father, are you not concerned? I too don't care for mother's endless hysteria, but Jane truly is fond of Mr. Bingley!"
"Jane is at no serious risk from Mr. Bingley. She is a beautiful and good girl, and will be fine with Mr. Bingley or some other gentleman who will come along."
Elizabeth could not have the same faith as her father in Jane's good fortune. She thought privately that it was this same foolish thinking in assuming that a son would be forthcoming that had left her and her sisters with little to no money to manage their futures.
"Father, is Mr. Darcy right? Are entails broken all the time?"
Mr. Bennet took a long time in answering. "Well, I do not know if they are broken all the time. However, he seems to be correct in that entails are not so hard to be broken."
"Then why do we still have an entail on Longbourn?" Elizabeth took in her father's silence, and then repeated her original question. "Father, is Longbourn held in an entail, or a strict settlement?"
"I think the answer is obvious to you, Lizzy."
Elizabeth threw her hands up in frustration. "Then why have you let everyone believe that it was an entail all this time, when it's not?"**
"What difference does it make?" Mr. Bennet answered quietly. "We're all stuck in this set-up. A strict settlement cannot be 'broken'. Does accuracy of language really matter when it is a distinction without a difference?"
"Mr. Darcy said – "
"Elizabeth, I suggest you discuss with Mr. Darcy whatever follow up you have to what he said, and leave me to my books."
"Oh Lizzy, I am sorry! I'm sure that father did not mean to be so curt with you," Jane said sympathetically.
Elizabeth had told Jane all that had occurred from Netherfield up until now, omitting only the specific mentions of Jane. She shrugged. "I feel like an animal chasing its own tail. Father has all but acknowledged knowing the Darcys, but refuses to explain anything. Entails can be broken, but Longbourn is not held under an entail. Strict settlements allegedly require an Act of Parliament to set aside, but would need rich people with important connections to make happen. I feel like I have suddenly stumbled upon a wealth of information, but all of it useless for our family. And I still don't understand what a strict settlement actually is!"
"I believe that father would explain it to you, once his mood has improved. He must feel bad on behalf of us, with this entire situation, especially with Mr. Collins here. You must not take it to heart. Also, as father said, if the situation of Longbourn is not reversible, what does it really matter what we call it?" Jane paused. "We must be reasonable, Lizzy. We live in a modest country town, and we know modest country families. The most important people we know are our Uncle Gardiner and some of his business contacts. These are not people who can orchestrate an Act of Parliament on our behalf to save Longbourn. Mr. Darcy must have been speaking generally, without intention to raise your hopes about our family situation. At least father cleared up your misconceptions without letting you hope unnecessarily."
Elizabeth fell across her bed, all energy leaving her. Until Jane put it into words, she didn't realise that she had become distracted with excitement at the possibility that they could break the entail, have Longbourn to themselves, and be ceased of the pressure to marry and marry well. Her suspicions that the Bennets owed the Darcys money would have been immaterial in a world where she and her sisters were well settled for.
"Do you really believe that Jane? That we live in a modest country town, that we know modest country families, that the highest we may rise is by meeting Uncle Gardiner's business associates, who, unless astonishingly rich, would be no real rise at all?"
Jane sat beside her, sighing unhappily. "I am almost three and twenty. I have not had any proposals of marriage to date, I have not been able to engage the feelings of any gentleman that I have met. Even Mr. Adams, Uncle Gardiner's clerk…nothing came of it. We move in an unvarying circle and meet the same people and…of Lizzy, I worry so! Mother expects so much from me! I am to marry well, marry rich, to someone who could care for me and my siblings, and my mother!"
"Oh, Jane, dearest, no one expects you to carry the burden for everyone!" The unfortunate truth was that Jane was right; from a purely pragmatic lens, the two of them had such little chance of making the type of marriages so essential to pull the family out of the economic hole it was in. When the whole village neighbourhood knew of the entail, knew of her mother's antics and her father's laziness, knew of their limited finances and five girls, which eligible bachelor would knock on their door with any sense of earnestness?
"Mother does! I am sure father does as well, even though he says nothing of it. I just do not know how I can do all that. When Mr. Bingley came to Netherfield…like I told you, he was just what a young man ought to be, sensible, good-humoured, lively, happy manners…I thought that it was perfect serendipity! This man I became so fond of, was so appropriate, and that too with my parent's good opinion…but…oh Lizzy! Surely even you noticed his lack of interest at Netherfield. He barely spoke to me those last few days. I am afraid that he guessed as to why I arrived on horseback during such atrocious weather, and wants nothing to do with a family so ill-bred and mercenary," Jane said sadly. "I know that my mother meant well, but I should have withstood her plans."
"That…that cannot be," cried Elizabeth, though she knew that Jane may have stumbled closer to the truth than she would have liked. Mr. Darcy had implied something very similar to what Jane supposed at Netherfield, and that could well explain Mr. Bingley's distance as well as anything else. "No one could have known that mother's weather predictions would come true, and you would have, in any event, not been able to override mother's edicts. Father also did declare that no horses would be available for the carriage. I am sure that there is some other explanation for Mr. Bingley's behaviour. It is as likely that he did not want to impose upon a sick lady, or appear improper. Do not let your spirits fall."
When Jane spoke, her voice was still down. "I have further unhappy news for you Lizzy. It is about Mr. Darcy."
"Mr. Darcy?"
"You have been silent about events at Netherfield until now. However, mother mentioned that you were partial to Mr. Darcy…"
"Oh, no! No, no, no, no! I am not partial to him! She is mistaken!"
Jane looked at her dubiously. "Lizzy, I hope you know that you never have to hide anything from me," she said, holding Elizabeth's hand. "If you are indeed impartial to Mr. Darcy, that is good. Because our mother mentioned to Mr. Collins this morning of your interestest in Mr. Darcy, while you were with father. It then transpired that Mr. Collins had in fact met Mr. Darcy recently; he is the nephew of Mr. Collins' patroness, Lady Catherine De Bourgh. Mr. Collins further advised that Mr. Darcy is in fact promised to Lady Catherine's daughter. He advised against forming any designs upon Mr. Darcy, who is already bound to wed another."
A/N :
** Just to be very clear, in my story (if it isn't already obvious), I am opting for a strict settlement (as opposed to an entail), for reasons which will become (hopefully) clearer as the story progresses.
HOWEVER, I don't think that in the book, Longbourn was subject to a strict settlement; for one thing, everyone from Lady Catherine onward is aware of the entail, and speaks of it as such, and of all the characters in the book, Lady Catherine and Darcy would have known the difference between a settlement and entail.
For another thing, as I explained in the previous chapter, Jane Austen would have most certainly known of the difference between the two, and was not a careless author. If property was held in a strict settlement, there is no conceivable reason as to why Jane Austen would have used the wrong term to describe it.
Lastly, (as explained in detail in the paper referred to in the previous chapter), there is Lydia's elopement. One of Wickham's demands was receiving Lydia's share of the money that had been settled on Mrs. Bennet. His other condition was that Mr. Bennet would provide £100 to Lydia annually during his lifetime. Had a strict settlement (or any settlement) also been in place from Mr. Bennet's side with provisions for the daughters, Wickham would have demanded that as well. Wickham is too smart by far to not have demanded money from every angle he could obtain it. The only reason Wickham did not demand Lydia's share of a settlement on Mr. Bennet's side must be because such settlement did not exist.
Also, any strict settlement must continuously be re-signed by every generation, or every other generation (every other if grandparent + heir are alive at the same time and heir is of age to sign and consent to an agreement). All this means that Mr. Bennet at some point in his life agreed upon a strict settlement (likely before having any children), and signed off on it.
To believe that in the book Longbourn was under a strict settlement would have to assume that Jane Austen was a lazy writer AND that Mr. Bennet signed off on a strict settlement that provided no provisions for his wife and other children in the event of his death (okay, so the latter is very likely lol).
Ergo, my position is that in the book, Longbourn was under an entail which could have been broken according to the law of the time, had Mr. Bennet not been a lazy, useless, parent as bad as his wife.
(Does it show that I am a nerd?)
Also, though I don't agree with its conclusion, "Pride, Prejudice and Property" by S. Morley Scott, Michigan Alumnus Quarterly Review [1951], is an excellent paper that explains how entails work (and how they are broken), and how strict settlements operate.
**** Apologies to all the reviewers I have not yet responded to. I had an accident that required emergency dental surgery, and am just beginning to wean of the pain meds (slowly). I will do my best to get to everyone, but if I don't, please know that your reviews are much appreciated!