#william collins

[lonelylittledot]

rip Mr Collins, you would have loved Patreon

[anghraine]

what happens to charlotte lucas if mr. collins dies early (before he inherits longbourne)?

That is the worst possible scenario for her, basically.

Mr Collins's living with regard to Hunsford only lasts for the duration of his life, so she gets nothing from it. Unless her child (she's implied to be pregnant at the end of P&P) is a son and, iirc, falls within a set number of generations as laid out by the original entailment, she also gets nothing with regard to Longbourn (and if the child is a girl, she now has another dependent to worry about and provide for; I think Mr Bennet's daughters would receive preference over Charlotte's if Mr Collins never inherits and there's no son).

There would have been legal documents accompanying their betrothal that laid out exactly how much property or money Charlotte and her potential children would receive during and after the marriage (this is what is meant by references to pin money and jointure; pin money is what the woman will regularly receive for her private expenses during the marriage, and jointure is what she gets if she survives her husband). There's a straightforward example of this with Mr and Mrs Bennet, for instance.

Mrs Bennet brought a dowry of four thousand pounds to the marriage. Mr Bennet or his family settled an additional one thousand pounds on her at the time (23 years earlier). So there's five thousand pounds attached to Mrs Bennet and her children specifically that is essentially secure—the income from it can only go to her or her children. Since her children are all daughters, however, this pretty much automatically includes her daughters' husbands as well, since women were legally and financially subsumed into their husbands' identities upon marriage and it took some legal shenanigans to protect their resources. Lydia's share of Mrs Bennet's fortune, one thousand pounds, effectively goes to Wickham as part of the marriage arrangements, and it's not clear if Lydia's money is legally secured to her in the same way since it was part of bribing Wickham to marry her at all.

(Tangent: a lot of analysis tends to assume that income from a lump sum of this kind would generate an income of 5% of the principal via low-risk, low-reward government investments. Mr Collins himself explicitly estimates that Elizabeth's portion of Mrs Bennet's settlement would generate an income at a 4% rate, leaving her with a mere 40 pounds a-year. This might seem Mr Collins-style negging, but in reality these kinds of safe government investments could and did drop to rates closer to 3% due to various economic upheavals at the time.)

Returning to Charlotte's situation, eighteenth-century advice urged men (even much less affluent men) to set aside a significant portion of their incomes every year to add to what was settled on their wives/children, so that if they died, their children and widows would have more to live on. The original settlement, as in Mrs Bennet's case, could be pretty small, especially for multiple people to live on. Mr Collins is enough of a rules guy that he might set aside the suggested percentages of his income, especially if Lady Catherine considers it proper. But even if we assume he's setting aside, say, 20% of his income, I doubt that would amount to very much if he dies soon; the Hunsford living is good, but not that good, and he's only 25, so there just hasn't been much time. Charlotte would essentially be a poor cousin by marriage of the Bennets and dependent on her own family (already in straitened circumstances) for anything more than her settlement, which given the circumstances wouldn't amount to much.

People often kill Mr Collins young to given Charlotte a chance at a better life, but in reality, this would likely be a disaster for her.

[jomiddlemarch]

Most affectionately, Charlotte

Within a month of her marriage, Charlotte Collins had no particular regrets, except that it was entirely possible she would lose her mind.

It could not be said that she had wed a cruel man. There was no especial malice driving any of Mr. Collins’s decisions and indeed, he had been kind enough in the marriage-bed, making an effort not to offend any delicate sensibility she might have, unexpectedly gentle, and she knew herself fortunate that in a parsonage which did not allow for separate bedchambers, he did not snore. He was less obsequious away from his patroness Lady Catherine, which meant that their evenings alone were tolerable unless a visit to Rosings was in the offing, a situation which drove him to a feverish pitch of mingled exhortation and instruction, remarks often repeated as soon as he’d uttered them. He gave her a fair allowance to run the household, she had a cook and housemaids, a gardener and a groom, and he made few demands other than to confess he detested mutton however it was prepared and had an uncommon fondness for skirret fritters. He labored mightily over his sermons, though she could tell little difference in them from one Sunday to the next, and blessedly, he did not expect her to act as his amanuensis.

He was just so terribly dull, she could hardly bear it, she who had chided Lizzie for her romantic ideals, the risks her friend took waiting for a man she might love with all her heart and soul.

Charlotte knew she might feel some affection for William at some point, but that was all the future held, a quiet, patient companionship and the years ahead stretched interminably, her body and position adequately sustained, her intellect withering.

It was a bargain she herself had struck almost eagerly and now could not confess her fears, for who would sympathize? Not her mother, who had been overjoyed and astounded that Charlotte had managed to snare the Bennett’s heir, not to her sister Maria, and though there was occasionally a surprising gleam in the eye of pallid Miss de Bourgh, she dared not risk speaking a slightest word that might be held against her husband, a disloyal wife who would risk his livelihood.

She tried playing the spinet, but her talent was paltry and the music meager, a thin broth. No degree of practice nor skilled tutelage would improve it. Her husband’s library was full of sermons and essays, his Greek texts from Oxford as unreadable to her as they had been impenetrable to him, but had she had a novel or collection of poetical works, they could not have held her attention much better. She sat in the window-seat and watched the lane, embroidered an altar-cloth, and felt her very self begin to come apart as the steam that rose from her afternoon tea dissipated into the air, into nothingness.

And then, a miracle! The letters began to arrive.

First, Lizzie wrote, regaling her with tales of her family, of her walks in the countryside, her wit and zest for life, her uneasiness about her prospects, her undeniable fascination with Mr. Darcy all readily apparent, despite the occasional blots due to her tendency to use her pen too long, when a fresh nib was clearly needed. She’d enclose a sprig of whatever blossom or herb she’d found on her excursions, small mementos Charlotte found dear and charming.

The next letter came from Jane Bennett, a polite little missive, much shorter than Lizzie’s, but possibly more informative, if one knew, as Charlotte did, how to correct for Jane’s perpetual sunniness to see the truth of Jane’s observations. It was a translation, to read Jane’s letters, and appreciate heartbreak and melancholy and anger, emotions Jane might allow Lizzie to see direct, but no one else.

There was a letter from her sister Maria, full of complaints, so much like home Charlotte felt the refreshment of relief when she finished it, to look about Hunsford and see her own domain, run to her own direction. The night that letter arrived, Charlotte kissed her husband as soon as he came through the door, and laughed when he blushed, smiled sincerely when he muttered I say, Lottie.

Her pen flew. She responded to every letter she received the same day, except for Lizzie’s, as they required more thought, more argument. She spent her pin-money on the best ink and skirret seed, so she might grow enough to make her husband skirret frittered, fried and creamed, so he might not complain at the cost of having her post franked. 

She wrote to Mary Bennett, suggesting the young woman read Sterne’s sermons and then Tristram Shandy. She wrote to her mother and asked for Cook’s best receipts for jugged hare, for a tonic for catarrh. She wrote to Miss de Bourgh, very carefully, extolling Rosings’ grounds, mentioning Herbert and more daringly, Donne, and was rewarded by short notes in an elegant hand inviting her to tea, asking her opinion on lemon curd. 

When she told her husband, he kissed her as soon as he heard, muttering, I say, Lottie, well-done you. And then, how sweet you are, how lucky we are, and Charlotte didn’t feel she needed to argue with him.

She’d simply write about it to Lizzie. She’d write and invite her for a visit.

Tagging @janeuary-month

[phantomstatistician]

Fandom: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen

Sample Size: 3,122 stories

Source: AO3

[artemlegere]

'The Triumph of Mercy,' from Collins' 'Ode To Mercy'

Artist: William Artaud (English, 1763–1823) Formerly attributed to George Romney (English, 1734–1802)

Date: 1788 to 1790

Medium: Oil on canvas

Collection: Yale Center for British Art, New Haven, CT, United States

Ode To Mercy by William Collins

STROPHE

O Thou, who sitt'st a smiling bride By Valour's arm'd and awful side, Gentlest of sky-born forms, and best adored; Who oft with songs, divine to hear, Winn'st from his fatal grasp the spear, And hidest in wreaths of flowers his bloodless sword! Thou who, amidst the deathful field, By godlike chiefs alone beheld, Oft with thy bosom bare art found, Pleading for him the youth who sinks to ground: See, Mercy, see, with pure and loaded hands, Before thy shrine my country's genius stands, And decks thy altar still, though pierced with many a wound.

ANTISTROPHE

When he whom even our joys provoke, The fiend of nature join'd his yoke, And rush'd in wrath to make our isle his prey; Thy form, from out thy sweet abode, O'ertook him on his blasted road, And stopp'd his wheels, and look'd his rage away. I see recoil his sable steeds, That bore him swift to salvage deeds, Thy tender melting eyes they own; O maid, for all thy love to Britain shown, Where Justice bars her iron tower, To thee we build a roseate bower; Thou, thou shalt rule our queen, and share our monarch's throne!

[mymindimpaired]

Pride and Prejudice relationship alignment chart

[mysharona1987]

re: Reading Pride and Prejudice. Even Mr Collins knows him and Charlotte are a marriage of convenience. But he’s not a bad guy.

Charlotte acknowledges he treats her well and is never cruel.

Play Mr Collins by someone awkward but hot and we could get a good Jane Austen film here.

[curiousb]

The Steele Family Album: Volume XVII

We're heading over to the other side of town today, to see how the other Steele sister is getting on.

Very well, as it happens!

And we finally get to meet the man behind the llama. I like him! As does Nancy, clearly. He just needs a more becoming hairstyle.

Although Nancy is by nature an independent girl, there's a real spirit of togetherness between these two, even hitting the gym together.

Which is why Nancy decides to invite him to move in, and share the rent.

Meet Steve Hicks, before...

...and after his makeover. (Fun fact: I actually love this Maxis hair, and I'm really glad of an opportunity to use it!)

Steve's stats:

~ Scorpio 5 / 4 / 9 / 3 / 4

~ Mean-spirited / Light Sleeper / Artistic / Daredevil / Clumsy

~ OTH: Sport

~ Favourite Colour(s): Olive Green

~ Aspiration: Fortune / Romance

~ Turn-ons / -off: +Adventurous / +Athletic / -Indoorsy

~ LTW: Become Space Pirate

Loneliness seems to be a thing of the past for Nancy.

Steve needs to pay his way though - Nancy won't tolerate freeloaders - so he signs up as a recruit.

And just in time, as he's about to become a family man!

It's a boy! With his mum's (and grandfather William's) amber eyes.

Steve, meet your new baby son, Andrew.

Yeah, babies tend to do that.

[bo-deuxtons]

@gradexmovies

[lionofchaeronea]

May Day, William Collins, 1811-12

[dance-in-the-morning-glow]

Welp, I watched a tiktok with p&p inspired tattoo flashes and now I’m half-seriously considering getting a tiny excellent boiled potatoes tattoo just because I can

[anime-captured]

William Collins, ATF

ATF = Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms

[anghraine]

lavenderandchai replied to this post:

Now I'm realizing I would be very interested in reading a short story where Elizabeth eventually tells Darcy about Collins's proposal because through the whole novel I don't think he ever learns of it (unless he overheard Merryton gossip due to Mrs Bennet's anger at Elizabeth) which is an interesting angle to think about

IIRC, it comes up in fic reasonably often! I think there are decent odds that he doesn't know; he isn't around when it actually happens, nobody in Kent who knows about has any motivation to talk about it, and by the time Darcy comes back to the Meryton area, it's old news. Of course, it might come up during the engagement period or something, but I like to think Darcy and Elizabeth are both just kind of amused by the time it comes up.

[mametupa]

[ardentlyinlovedarcy]

[runawaycarouselhorse]