Sanditon Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Introduction

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Copyright Page

  Love with your hearts fully anchored,

  love intensely.

  for

  Michael, Zoe, Emma and Cameron

  and

  Yasmin, Tristan, Carmen and Alissa

  “Be not the slave of your own past. Plunge into the sublime seas, dive deep and swim far, so you shall come back with self-respect, with new power, with an advanced experience that shall explain and overlook the old.”

  Ralph Waldo Emerson

  INTRODUCTION

  Jane Austen began work on the draft we now know as Sanditon in January, 1817. She abandoned the project in March of the same year. Jane died on July 18, 1817, and since then many have wondered what she had in mind for her Sanditon characters.This story, my personal resolution to the unsolved mysteries of Sanditon, is written with every intention of remaining faithful to Jane Austen and entertaining those who, in longing to know more about her wonderful characters, find it in their hearts to forgive the impertinence of the sequelist.

  CHAPTER 1

  A gentleman and a lady traveling from Tunbridge toward that part of the Sussex coast which lies between Hastings and Eastbourne, being induced by business to quit the high road and attempt a very rough lane, were overturned in toiling up its long ascent, half rock, half sand.The accident happened just beyond the only gentleman’s house near the lane, a house which their driver, on being first required to take that direction, had conceived to be necessarily their object and had with most unwilling looks been constrained to pass by. He had grumbled and shaken his shoulders and pitied and cut his horses so sharply that he might have been open to the suspicion of overturning them on purpose, especially as the carriage was not his master’s own, if the road had not indisputably become worse than before, as soon as the premises of the said house were left behind—expressing with a most portentous countenance that, beyond it, no wheels but cart wheels could safely proceed.

  The severity of the fall was broken by their slow pace and the narrowness of the lane; and the gentleman having scrambled out and helped out his companion, they neither of them at first felt more than shaken and bruised. But the gentleman had, in the course of the extrication, sprained his foot; and soon becoming sensible of it, was obliged in a few moments to cut short both his remonstrances to the driver and his congratulations to his wife and himself and sit down on the bank, unable to stand.

  “There is something wrong here,” said he, putting his hand to his ankle. “But never mind, my dear,” looking up at her with a smile, “it could not have happened, you know, in a better place. Good out of evil.The very thing perhaps to be wished for.We shall soon get relief. There, I fancy, lies my cure,” pointing to the neat-looking end of a cottage, which was seen romantically situated among wood on a high eminence at some little distance,“Does not that promise to be the very place?”

  His wife fervently hoped it was; but stood, terrified and anxious, neither able to do or suggest anything, and receiving her first real comfort from the sight of several persons now coming to their assistance. The accident had been discerned from a hayfield adjoining the house they had passed. And the persons who approached were a well-looking, hale, gentlemanlike man of middle age, the proprietor of the place, who happened to be among his haymakers at the time, and three or four of the ablest of them summoned to attend their master, to say nothing of all the rest of the field, men, women, and children, not very far off. Mr. Heywood, such was the name of the said proprietor, advanced with a very civil salutation, much concern for the accident, some surprise at anybody’s attempting that road in a carriage, and ready offers of assistance. His courtesies were received with good breeding and gratitude, and while one or two of the men lent their help to the driver in getting the carriage upright again, the traveler said, “You are extremely obliging Sir, and I take you at your word.The injury to my leg is, I daresay, very trifling. But it is always best in these cases, you know, to have a surgeon’s opinion without loss of time; and as the road does not seem in a favorable state for my getting up to his house myself, I will thank you to send off one of these good people for the surgeon.”

  “The surgeon!” exclaimed Mr. Heywood.“I am afraid you will find no surgeon at hand here, but I daresay we shall do very well without him.”

  “Nay, Sir, if he is not in the way, his partner will do just as well, or rather better. I would rather see his partner. Indeed, I would prefer the attendance of his partner. One of these good people can be with him in three minutes, I am sure. I need not ask whether I see the house,” looking toward the cottage, “for excepting your own, we have passed none in this place which can be the abode of a gentleman.”

  Mr. Heywood looked very much astonished. “What Sir! Are you expecting to find a surgeon in that cottage? We have neither surgeon nor partner in the parish, I assure you.”

  “Excuse me, Sir,” replied the other. “I am sorry to have the appearance of contradicting you, but from the extent of the parish or some other cause you may not be aware of the fact. Stay. Can I be mistaken in the place? Am I not in Willingden? Is not this Willingden?”

  “Yes, Sir, this is certainly Willingden.”

  “Then, Sir, I can bring proof of your having a surgeon in the parish, whether you may know it or not. Here Sir,” taking out his pocket book,“if you will do me the favor of casting your eye over these advertisements which I cut out myself from the Morning Post and the Kentish Gazette only yesterday morning in London, I think you will be convinced that I am not speaking at random.You will find in it an advertisement of the dissolution of a partnership in the medical line, in your own parish; extensive business, undeniable character, respectable references, wishing to form a separate establishment.You will find it at full length, Sir,” offering the two little oblong extracts.

  “Sir, if you were to show me all the newspapers that are printed in one week throughout the kingdom, you would not persuade me of there being a surgeon in Willingden,” said Mr. Heywood with a good-humored smile. “Having lived here ever since I was born, man and boy fifty-seven years, I think I must have known of such a person.At least I may venture to say that he has not much business. To be sure, if gentlemen were to be often attempting this lane in post chaises, it might not be a bad speculation for a surgeon to get a house at the top of the hill. But as to that cottage, I can assure you, Sir, that it is, in fact, in spite of its spruce air at this distance, as indifferent a double tenement as any in the parish, and that my shepherd lives at one end and three old women at the other.” He took the pieces of paper as he spoke and, having looked them over, added, “I believe I can explain it, Sir.Your mistake is in the place. There are two Willingdens in this country. And your advertisements must refer to the other, which is Gre
at Willingden or Willingden Abbots and lies seven miles off on the other side of Battle. Quite down in the weald. And we, Sir,” he added, speaking rather proudly,“are not in the weald.”

  “Not down in the weald, I am sure,” replied the traveler pleasantly.“It took us half an hour to climb your hill. Well, I daresay it is as you say and I have made an abominably stupid blunder. All done in a moment. The advertisements did not catch my eye till the last half hour of our being in town, everything in the hurry and confusion, which always attend a short stay there. One is never able to complete anything in the way of business, you know, till the carriage is at the door. So satisfying myself with a brief inquiry, and finding we were actually to pass within a mile or two of a Willingden, I sought no farther. My dear,” to his wife,“I am very sorry to have brought you into this scrape. But do not be alarmed about my leg. It gives me no pain while I am quiet.And as soon as these good people have succeeded in setting the carriage to rights and turning the horses round, the best thing we can do will be to measure back our steps into the turnpike road and proceed to Hailsham, and so home without attempting anything farther. Two hours take us home from Hailsham. And once at home, we have our remedy at hand, you know.A little of our own bracing sea air will soon set me on my feet again. Depend upon it, my dear, it is exactly a case for the sea. Saline air and immersion will be the very thing. My sensations tell me so already.”

  In a most friendly manner Mr. Heywood here interposed, entreating them not to think of proceeding till the ankle had been examined and some refreshment taken, and very cordially pressing them to make use of his house for both purposes. “We are always well stocked,” said he, “with all the common remedies for sprains and bruises. And I will answer for the pleasure it will give my wife and daughters to be of service to you in every way in their power.”

  A twinge or two, in trying to move his foot, disposed the traveler to think rather more than he had done at first of the benefit of immediate assistance; and consulting his wife in the few words of,“Well my dear, I believe it will be better for us.” He turned again to Mr. Heywood. “Before we accept your hospitality, Sir, and in order to do away with any unfavorable impression which the sort of wild-goose chase you find me in may have given rise to, allow me to tell you who we are. My name is Parker, Mr. Parker of Sanditon. This lady, my wife, Mrs. Parker.We are on our road home from London. My name perhaps, though I am by no means the first of my family holding landed property in the parish of Sanditon, may be unknown at this distance from the coast. But Sanditon itself, everybody has heard of Sanditon. The favorite, for a young and rising bathing-place, certainly the favorite spot of all that are to be found along the coast of Sussex; the most favored by nature, and promising to be the most chosen by man.”

  “Yes, I have heard of Sanditon,” replied Mr. Heywood. “Every five years, one hears of some new place or other starting up by the sea and growing the fashion. How they can half of them be filled is the wonder! Where people can be found with money and time to go to them! Bad things for a country, sure to raise the price of provisions and make the poor good for nothing, as I daresay you find, Sir.”

  “Not at all, Sir, not at all,” cried Mr. Parker eagerly. “Quite the contrary, I assure you. A common idea, but a mistaken one. It may apply to your large, overgrown places like Brighton or Worthing or Eastbourne, but not to a small village like Sanditon, precluded by its size from experiencing any of the evils of civilization; while the growth of the place, the buildings, the nursery grounds, the demand for everything, and the sure resort of the very best company, those regular, steady, private families of thorough gentility and character who are a blessing everywhere, excite the industry of the poor and diffuse comfort and improvement among them of every sort. No, Sir, I assure you, Sanditon is not a place …”

  “I do not mean to take exception to any place in particular,” answered Mr. Heywood. “I only think our coast is too full of them altogether. But had we not better try to get you …”

  “Our coast too full!” repeated Mr. Parker. “On that point perhaps we may not totally disagree. At least there are enough. Our coast is abundant enough. It demands no more. Everybody’s taste and everybody’s finances may be suited. And those good people who are trying to add to the number are, in my opinion, excessively absurd and must soon find themselves the dupes of their own fallacious calculations. Such a place as Sanditon, Sir, I may say, was wanted, was called for. Nature had marked it out, had spoken in most intelligible characters.The finest, purest sea breeze on the coast, acknowledged to be so, excellent bathing, fine hard sand, deep water ten yards from the shore, no mud, no weeds, no slimy rocks. Never was there a place more palpably designed by nature for the resort of the invalid, the very spot that thousands seemed in need of! The most desirable distance from London! One complete, measured mile nearer than Eastbourne. Only conceive, Sir, the advantage of saving a whole mile in a long journey. But Brinshore, Sir, which I daresay you have in your eye, the attempts of two or three speculating people about Brinshore this last year to raise that paltry hamlet, lying as it does between a stagnant marsh, a bleak moor, and the constant effluvia of a ridge of putrefying seaweed, can end in nothing but their own disappointment. What in the name of common sense is to recommend Brinshore? A most insalubrious air, roads proverbially detestable, water brackish beyond example, impossible to get a good dish of tea within three miles of the place.And as for the soil! It is so cold and ungrateful that it can hardly be made to yield a cabbage. Depend upon it, Sir, that this is a most faithful description of Brinshore, not in the smallest degree exaggerated, and if you have heard it differently spoken of …”

  “Sir, I never heard it spoken of in my life before,” said Mr. Heywood. “I did not know there was such a place in the world.”

  “You did not! There my dear,” turning with exultation to his wife, “you see how it is. So much for the celebrity of Brinshore! This gentleman did not know there was such a place in the world. Why, in truth, Sir, I fancy we may apply to Brinshore that line of the poet Cowper in his description of the religious cottager, as opposed to Voltaire, ‘She, never heard of half a mile from home.’”

  “With all my heart, Sir, apply any verses you like to it. But I want to see something applied to your leg. And I am sure by your lady’s countenance that she is quite of my opinion and thinks it a pity to lose any more time. And here come my girls to speak for themselves and their mother.”

  Two or three genteel-looking young women, followed by as many maidservants, were now seen issuing from the house. “I began to wonder the bustle should not have reached them.A thing of this kind soon makes a stir in a lonely place like ours. Now, Sir, let us see how you can be best conveyed into the house.”

  The young ladies approached and said everything that was proper to recommend their father’s offers and, in an unaffected manner, calculated to make the strangers easy. As Mrs. Parker was exceedingly anxious for relief, and her husband by this time not much less disposed for it, a very few civil scruples were enough; especially as the carriage, being now set up, was discovered to have received such injury on the fallen side as to be unfit for present use. Mr. Parker was therefore carried into the house and his carriage wheeled off to a vacant barn.

  CHAPTER 2

  The acquaintance, thus oddly begun, was neither short nor unimportant. For a whole fortnight the travelers were fixed at Willingden, Mr. Parker’s sprain proving too serious for him to move sooner. He had fallen into very good hands.The Heywoods were a thoroughly respectable family and every possible attention was paid, in the kindest and most unpretending manner, to both husband and wife. He was waited on and nursed, and she cheered and comforted with unremitting kindness; and as every office of hospitality and friendliness was received as it ought, as there was not more goodwill on one side than gratitude on the other, nor any deficiency of generally pleasant manners in either, they grew to like each other in the course of that fortnight exceedingly well.

  Mr. Parker’s
character and history were soon unfolded. All that he understood of himself, he readily told, for he was very openhearted; and where he might be himself in the dark, his conversation was still giving information to such of the Heywoods as could observe. By such he was perceived to be an enthusiast on the subject of Sanditon, a complete enthusiast. Sanditon, the success of Sanditon as a small, fashionable bathing place, was the object for which he seemed to live. A very few years ago, it had been a quiet village of no pretensions; but some natural advantages in its position and some accidental circumstances having suggested to himself and the other principal landholder the probability of its becoming a profitable speculation, they had engaged in it, and planned and built, and praised and puffed, and raised it to something of young renown; and Mr. Parker could now think of very little besides. The facts which, in more direct communication, he laid before them were that he was about five and thirty, had been married, very happily married, seven years, and had four sweet children at home; that he was of a respectable family and easy, though not large, fortune; no profession, succeeding as eldest son to the property which two or three generations had been holding and accumulating before him; that he had two brothers and two sisters, all single and all independent, the eldest of the two former indeed, by collateral inheritance, quite as well provided for as himself.

  His object in quitting the high road to hunt for an advertising surgeon was also plainly stated. It had not proceeded from any intention of spraining his ankle or doing himself any other injury for the good of such surgeon, nor (as Mr. Heywood had been apt to suppose) from any design of entering into partnership with him; it was merely in consequence of a wish to establish some medical man at Sanditon, which the nature of the advertisement induced him to expect to accomplish in Willingden. He was convinced that the advantage of a medical man at hand would very materially promote the rise and prosperity of the place, would in fact tend to bring a prodigious influx; nothing else was wanting. He had strong reason to believe that one family had been deterred last year from trying Sanditon on that account, and probably very many more, and his own sisters, who were sad invalids and whom he was very anxious to get to Sanditon this summer, could hardly be expected to hazard themselves in a place where they could not have immediate medical advice.