Austen 250 Reader Series: Mansfield Park (Vol. III, Ch. 10-17) & Final Thoughts
- Na'dayah Pugh
- 1 day ago
- 9 min read
Updated: 5 minutes ago
Hello dearest readers.
Thank you for joining for the newest installment of the Jane Austen Summer Program’s 250 Reader Series! I’m Na’dayah, and you lucky readers get to read Mansfield Park with me for the next several weeks.
This week I’ll be covering chapters 41 through 48 of the novel; in other words, the final chapters!
So. Without further ado.
Let’s jump into it.
When we pick up with Chapter 10 of the novel’s last volume, Fanny is anxious about Edmund’s should-have-been arrival in town. Fanny hasn’t heard anything from him! I wonder what he’s been up to. . . .
Someone else does show up at the Price residence, though. Guess who!
When Mr. Crawford arrives, Fanny does as she always does—she runs into the next room and hides for as long as is politely possible. Eventually, she’s called for, at which point she greets the new visitor. He’s kinder than ever; his manner is “perfect”—Austen’s words, not mine! He’s even so good as to avoid meeting Fanny’s eye while she recovers from the fluster of his arrival. She’s terribly ashamed at his being there: “to her many other sources of uneasiness was added the severe one of shame for the home in which he found her.”
Crawford brings with him brief news of Edmund, saying only that he “was in town, had been in town he understood, a few days,” but hadn’t seen anyone. Fanny, hearing this, thinks that the event she’s dreaded—ie. Edmund’s marriage with Mary Crawford—has already taken place. “Then by this time it is all settled,” she thinks to herself.
Mr. Crawford makes himself very pleasing to all of Fanny’s family, even taking it upon himself to escort Fanny and her sister Susan on a walk. Fanny, noticing his good behavior, hopes that his manner has changed enough to not allow him to put up with her resistances. She thinks that he must be “ashamed and disgusted altogether” with her at this point.
How true do you think that sentiment is?
Despite her still-adamant refusals, Fanny can’t help but notice that Mr. Crawford has changed significantly since she last saw him.
“She thought him altogether improved since she had seen him; he was much more gentle, obliging, and attentive to other people’s feelings than he had ever been at Mansfield; she had never seen him so agreeable—so near being agreeable. . . . He was decidedly improved.” — Vol. III, Ch. X
The next day, Mr. Crawford makes another appearance. He’s “most happy to consider the Miss Prices as his peculiar charge,” and walks with one of them on either of his arms. For this assistance, Fanny is grateful; she’s been so out of habit of her semi-regular walks, having been away from Mansfield so long, that she’s losing strength. Crawford seems to notice this, insisting that she should be returned to Mansfield, that she cannot be comfortable here. . . . He’s “growing anxious for her being again at Mansfield.”
To this end, he offers her a great service. He tells her to let him and his sister know the instant she wants to return to Mansfield, and that they will make it happen; they “will immediately come down, and take [her] back to Mansfield.”
Later, after he’s gone, Fanny reflects again on his improved behavior.
“The wonderful improvement which she still fancied in Mr. Crawford, was the nearest to administering comfort of anything within the current of her thoughts. . . . [M]ight not it be fairly supposed, that he would not much longer persevere in a suit so distressing to her?” — Vol. III, Ch. XI
In other words: “He’s kinder and nicer—surely he’ll stop pursuing me, right?”
Mr. Crawford leaves Portsmouth, but his presence still lingers; he entreats his sister to send Fanny a letter, a request to which she obliges, albeit seemingly a bit confused-ly.
“I have to inform you, my dearest Fanny, that Henry has been down to Portsmouth to see you. . . . He makes me write, but I do not know what else is to be communicated.” — Vol. III, Ch. XII
Miss Crawford, to Fanny’s relief, has no news to share—thus, she and Edmund have not yet been married, concludes Fanny. (Yay!) Fanny consigns herself to deal with the suspense, knowing only that at least “nothing decisive had yet taken place.” Still, though, she worries—is sure of it—they must marry, it’s only a matter of time. . . .
Free of Mr. Crawford’s physical presence, Fanny has more time to spend with her family. She and her sister Susan grow closer. Susan looks up to Fanny, admiring of her good morals and behavior.
Fanny, meanwhile, feels sorrow on Susan’s behalf.
“Poor Susan was very little better fitted for home than her elder sister; and as Fanny grew thoroughly to understand this, she began to feel that when her own release from Portsmouth came, her happiness would have a material drawback in leaving Susan behind. That a girl so capable of being made, every thing good, should be left in such hands, distressed her more and more.” — Vol. III, Ch. XII
Poor Susan indeed!
Six weeks into Fanny’s visit home, she finally receives a letter from Edmund. Took him long enough!
He spends most of this letter, annoyingly, speaking of his own dilemma with Miss Crawford. (This is a letter, Edmund, not a diary!)
He worries that Miss Crawford, who is spending time with the Frasers, is with bad influences. Edmund doesn’t like the company that she’s keeping, and he’s worried they’ll ruin her character. In particular, he’s concerned with her newfound habits of wealth.
Nevertheless, however, he’s making some peace with the matter. Despite her being “the only woman in the world [he] could think of as a wife,” he finds some comfort in the fact that if they don’t get married, it’ll be because he isn’t rich enough, not because of his profession. So, that’s a win, I guess?
He spends a bit of time in the letter making a case for Henry Crawford again, insisting that “he thoroughly knows his own mind.” And then he signs the letter and is done.
Fanny’s response?
“’I never will—no, I certainly never will wish for a letter again. . . . What do they bring but disappointment and sorrow?’” — Vol. III, Ch. XIII
I have to admit, I’ve had the same response when receiving texts from specific persons who shall not be named. Hashtag relatable.
Chapter 13 really is the chapter of letters; another comes, this one from Lady Bertram, bearing bad news. Tom, having spent a lot of time drinking “with a party of young men,” has fallen ill. Edmund is gone to attend to him and bring him back to Mansfield.
Fortunately, Tom is out of immediate danger soon—or so Lady Bertram reports. But, separately, Edmund tells her that they worry for Tom’s lungs—but that they haven’t told Lady Bertram, to not worry her for no reason.
All this, several weeks into Fanny’s stay at Portsmouth, and there still has been no word sent of fetching her to bring her back to Mansfield! This, for Fanny, is especially sorrowful; she considers Mansfield home much moreso than she does Portsmouth, so much so that she has to watch her tongue when using the word “home,” out of fear of offending her parents. Even when she slips up, though, they don’t really care. . . .
Fanny receives another letter, this one again from Miss Crawford. She writes with worries for Tom, with an explicit preference for Fanny’s correspondence over that of the Bertram sisters, and a profession of Henry Crawford’s still being in love with her. All this, in addition to another imploration to Fanny to write immediately the second she’d like to be whisked away to Mansfield.
Fanny is very near considering accepting this offer in her return letter, but her usual good propriety stops her from accepting it.
“Her awe of her uncle, and her dread of taking a liberty with him, made it instantly plain to her, what she had to do. She must absolutely decline the proposal. If he wanted, he would send for her; and even to offer an early return, was a presumption which hardly any thing would have seemed to justify.” — Vol. III, Ch. XIV
Thus, she remains longer at Portsmouth.
Surprise surprise—another letter comes for Fanny. This one, again from Miss Crawford, is far more mysterious than the last, though. . . .
She writes imploring Fanny to avoiding crediting the rumor that is spreading. . . . What rumor? you might ask. Fanny has the same question, for she hasn’t yet heard any rumor. To what might Miss Crawford be referring? . . .
Eventually, the rumor reaches Fanny. Her father hands her the newspaper, offering it to her so she can read for herself. . . .
“It was with infinite concern the newspaper had to announce to the world, a matrimonial fracas in the family of Mr. R. of Wimpole Street; the beautiful Mrs. R. whose name had not long been enrolled in the lists of hymen, and who had promised to become so brilliant a leader in the fashionable world, having quitted her husband’s roof in company with the well known and capitivating Mr. C., the intimate friend and associate of Mr. R.” — Vol. III, Ch. XV
Reader, you read that right: the former Maria Bertram and the dashing Mr. Crawford had an affair!
But wait, reader, the news is not over—word comes from Edmund that Julia has eloped with Mr. Yates, and that both have run off to Scotland!
Wow, reader. That’s some juicy news, is it not?
But that’s not the most important news that has come about from Edmund’s correspondence, no. Edmund writes that Sir Thomas wishes Fanny be brought to Mansfield right away. Even better, he wishes that she invite Susan to come along!
Everything happens quickly, and soon Fanny is returned home, with her younger sister in tow. Fanny and Edmund unite in an embrace. He calls her his “only comfort.”
Passionate words from Edmund. . . .
Everyone is distraught at the news, perhaps most of all Mrs. Norris, given her attachment to Maria. Get this—she even blames Fanny for the whole scandal! Had Fanny only accepted Mr. Crawford’s proposals, he never would’ve acted out like this.
WOW. Way to take it a step past victim-shaming, Mrs. Norris. . . .
It seems that all related parties are taking casualties from this event; Edmund and Mary Crawford have had their relationship affected as well. How come? Well, because Edmund doesn’t care for Miss Crawford’s views on the whole affair. “Fanny,” he grieves, “it was the detection, not the offence which she reprobated.”
In other words: Miss Crawford doesn’t care about what they did—she thinks the real shame is in that they got caught.
Talk about bad morals!
Even further—Miss Crawford, like Mrs. Norris, blames Fanny’s resistance to Henry Crawford’s hand in marriage as the cause of the cheating scandal!
It seems, dear reader, that Mary Crawford is NOT what you’d call a “girl’s girl.”
Edmund, seeing this response from Miss Crawford, resigns himself against marrying her. Good riddance! Imagine being stuck in matrimony with those values!
Thus, the way clears for a happy finale. “Let other pens dwell on guilt and misery,” our free indirect discourse narrates, before detailing the list of good things that have happened. In summary:
Maria Bertram and Henry Crawford are, for all intents and purposes, irredeemable. Their actions have condemned them to misery.
Julia and Yates, by contrast, are improvable; Julia is “humble and wishing to be forgiven,” and Yates, “desirous of being really received into the family, was disposed to look up to [Sir Thomas] and be guided.”
Tom regains his health and, given his health scare, reforms into “what he ought to be, useful to his father, steady and quiet, and not living merely for himself.”
Sir Thomas reflects on the raising of his daughters, regretting how his errors in their education.
Mr. Rushworth gets a divorce. Good for him!
Mrs. Norris quits the Park to live with Maria, who’s been effectively exiled from the neighborhood. Their living situation becomes each other’s punishment. They do say that “hell is other people”. . . .
Dr. and Mrs. Grant leave for London. Probably for the best.
Edmund, free of his infatuation with Miss Crawford, realizes that the perfect woman has been in front of him all along—Fanny! They marry and are happily ever after.
Susan is invited to stay at Mansfield, to fill Fanny’s old place at Lady Bertram’s side. The biggest triumph of the novel—yay for Susan!
And, thus, dear reader, we conclude the novel.
Now, while I’m choosing to ignore some of the elephants in the room (they’re cousins for crying out loud!), I will address one of them.
I came into this re-read having absolutely ABHORRED the novel the first time around. Thus, I feel obligated to share my thoughts on this second read through.
And. . . . I have to admit. . . .
I didn’t totally hate it this time around.
Yes, obviously I wish Fanny wouldn’t cry so much. And that she would speak up for what she wants. And that she wouldn’t be so weak and meek all the time.
BUT. That said. I have a newfound respect for her. Surrounded for that much time with so many indecent characters, it’s honestly a miracle that she didn’t turn out the same.
Actually, scratch that—it’s not a miracle. It’s a testament to her goodness, her character, her temper, her morality, and all the other things that make her a great Austen heroine.
Thank you all so much for joining me for this installment of the Mansfield Park reader series! What are your thoughts on the novel’s conclusion? How do you feel about the different couplings? Did everyone get what they deserved? How much do you absolutely love Susan?
Dear readers, it’s been a wonderful several weeks with you all.
I won’t see you next week, but keep reading anyway.
Always yours,
Na’dayah