that any blog post in possession of amateur photography must be in want of a patron.
Viv and I drove from London to Chawton to visit the house where Jane Austen spent the last years of her (too short) life. The brick house has been converted into a museum. From the road, it looks like this.
The rooms are compartmentalized (I guess the open floor plan wasn’t yet a trend), but the house is somewhat spacious.
Here is the plaque on the front of the house.
There was at least one other male visitor here, so Viv wasn’t completely surrounded by gushing females.
Much of the interior was in the “re-imagined” realm. Most of Jane’s possessions didn’t make it very far, which makes sense because she was never rich. In fact, according to her will, she had just over 800 pounds to her name when she died, all from book sales. She left most of it to her sister, Cassandra.
So in the spirit or re-imagination, here is the room where Jane and her mother, sister, and sister-in-law took their meals.
See that TINY desk in the upper right corner? THAT my friend is where Jane shook her money maker (pen)!
How in Darcy’s name did she manage with such a small space?! That table wouldn’t hold my drink order! The sign indicated that this was her actual desk. My excuses for not writing are now totally invalid. Can you imagine the piles of papers, the discarded drafts, the ink and pen wiper, all on this table? Let alone some tea. Incredible.
Upstairs is the bedroom Jane shared with Cassandra. How two people slept in a bed this size is yet another pre-Victorian mystery.
Here is a view from her bedroom window.
Many items that may have belonged to the Austen family were displayed, but evidence that they were directly related to Jane was scant. Two of her brothers were Navy men, so there were many paintings of ships and other naval things.
One of the few things that was for sure Jane’s is this shawl, which Jane made herself.
Because our girl had TALENT coming out of her fingers for sure. In the background there is a part of a quilt that Jane, Cassandra, and their mom worked on.
Outside the garden was stylized not as it would have been in Jane’s time (it would have been more functional with vegetables and herbs and such) but in sort of a meandering English garden on the borders, grass in the main space.
Here is the view of the house from the back garden.
Overall it was fun to consider the perspective from Jane’s bedroom, see her work space, and think about her daily life. The museum itself doesn’t have a standard or metric ton of things of Jane’s, but ultimately it didn’t matter. The day was beautiful and the pub across the way was open. Good day all around.
Today I traveled from Heathrow to Ireland and have just checked into my hotel. The taxi driver gave me a map he had stolen from the tour bus company and told me not to bother finding a tour bus (!!) because all the places worth going (he circled them in black pen) are easily walkable from my hotel. I didn’t argue and in fact appreciated his petty theft, but I was looking forward to sitting on a bus and looking passively at things. Now it seems like my conscience will require a more active touring plan. I have several things (some taxi-recommendations, some Pinterest lists) I want to do and see, but, nap first.
paralyzedbynotcaring 