And so much more:
[Click photo to see the big version, which reads: "Jane Austen lived here from 1809-1817 and hence all her works were sent into the world. Her admirers in this country and in America have united to erect this tablet. Such art as hers can never grow old.]
Matt’s grandmother and I visited the Jane Austen house in Chawton yesterday. The house was well worth the nearly two hour trip each way, a train from Waterloo to Alton, then a taxi ride.
The trip was made all the longer when we missed our trains both ways. Literally—we walked on the station platform, the train doors closed and the train pulled away. Twice. And then we waited a half hour for the next train. (It was funny by the time we retold it at dinner.)
We made up for our luck on the taxi ride, which worked seamlessly even though there appeared to be one driver working in the town. We got especially lucky on our way back to the train station when our driver turned down two riders during our five minute ride.
The taxi driver was also entertaining—the first thing he said when we requested the ride was, “You know she’s [Jane's] not in, right?”
The house was interesting, full of trinkets, sheet music, and books—it gave a good sense of how the family lived, and I decided Austen had a nice life. (Disclaimer #1: I suspect I would have been partial to spinsterhood had I lived back then. Austen’s sister-in law had 11 children!!)
She was never poor, exhibited signs of independence and rebelliousness (turning down men; having a profession), had strong family ties, and had a relatively decent life span. (Disclaimer #2: I have never read an Austen bio, and may be mixing up some facts here.)
We couldn’t take pictures inside, but the surrounding property was just as fun. Here’s a picture of the “Old Bakehouse.”
The sign on the door said: “Please take care. Beware of Uneven Floor.” Those crazy Brits…
One final, unrelated note: I think I spotted Wallace & Gromit’s neighborhood on the train to Alton. It was pretty foggy, but I would know those houses anywhere.