In her novels, Pride and Prejudice and Emma, Jane Austen uses the mundane act of walking as a reoccurring motif, reflecting character temperament, social intent, and the limited sphere of womanhood; Elizabeth Bennet’s walk to Netherfield Park reinforces her independence and disdain for the trappings of propriety, while Emma Woodhouse’s walks with Harriet Smith illuminate her self-appointed role of matchmaker, and her flawed understanding of social hierarchy. Through the simple act of walking, Austen critiques performative gentility, abuses of social power, and the limits placed on women in society.
When Elizabeth Bennet walks three miles through muddy fields to Netherfield Park to visit her sister Jane, who has fallen ill, Austen is presenting the reader with a character who places family above social expectations. However, not everyone is as welcoming of Elizabeth’s zest for independence. Caroline Bingley finds Elizabeth’s appearance after her trek distasteful: “Why must she be scampering about the country, because her sister had a cold? Her hair so untidy, so blowzy!” (PP 47). Caroline’s need to conform to societal decorum stands in stark contrast to Elizabeth’s naturalism. Elizabeth’s skirt hem may be caked with several inches of mud and her hair loose and tangled, but she is there for Jane in her time of need, and that is more important to Elizabeth than what society thinks.
Elizabeth’s walk represents her independence, strength of character, and concern for her sister’s well being. In fact, Elizabeth Bennet was the first of her kind. No other heroine had ever bucked the status quo like she and Austen knew as much. She set out to create a proto-feminist character: “as delightful a character as ever appeared in print” (Letters January 29, 1813). However, according to Claudia Johnson (1988) readers today may not appreciate Elizabeth’s unconventional manner and “overlook” how severely her society would have judged her for her impropriety (75).
Yet, it is not only Elizabeth Bennet who found freedom from walking. Austen herself was an avid walker who reveled in the liberty of the open air, the solitude of quiet forests and grand sweeping vistas. In her letters, Austen often writes of her walks, and indeed much like Elizabeth, who would not balk at trapesing through a muddy field, it took much to dissuade Austen from her usual outings on foot (Letters, 1908). It’s easy to see how such a mundane part of her every day made it into her novels, layered with meaning.
Standing in stark contrast to Austen’s utterly enjoyable Elizabeth Bennet, is the spoiled and manipulative Emma Woodhouse. While Elizabeth walks for freedom and enjoyment of the outdoors, Emma uses walks as a vehicle to control and interfere while maintaining the sphere of womanhood.
After the marriage of her governess and walking partner, Miss Taylor, Emma is delighted to make the acquaintance of Miss Harriet Smith, a young woman staying with Mrs. Goddard, the boardinghouse mistress. Fancying herself a master matchmaker, Emma sets her sights on finding a suitable marriage match for low-ranking Harriet. The many walks the young women take together serve as a means for Emma to guide the gullible heart of Harriet in the direction she sees most fit—anywhere but the Martin family, especially away from Harriet’s growing affection for Mr. Martin, whom Emma sees as socially beneath the lovely Harriet: “she did suspect danger to her poor little friend from all this hospitality and kindness, and that, if she were not taken care of, she might be required to sink herself for ever,” (E 21). Emma sees Mr. Martin, a simple farmer, as a threat to Harriet’s social prospects, whom she fancies as the daughter of a high-ranking nobleman.
During their walks, Emma contrives to have the pair run into Mr. Elton, the local rector, hoping Elton will become sweet on Harriet and propose marriage, raising the young woman’s social status. Instead, Elton’s affections land on Emma, jilting Harriet. When Emma later runs into the near mythical Frank Churchill, she again steers Harriet’s eye in his direction, only to have her jilted again when Churchill’s secret engagement to Jane Fairfax is announced.
The walks Emma takes with Harriet stand in stark contrast to Elizabeth’s walk to Netherfield. Emma uses her time alone with Harriet to move her in the direction Emma feels is best. Elizabeth’s walk is egalitarian and selfless. Time and time again, Emma deludes herself into thinking she can win Harriet a beau by simply placing her in the right place at the right time, ignoring the young woman’s desire for Mr. Martin. Over the course of the novel, Emma matures with the help of Mr. Knightly, who points out some hard truths: “Vanity working on a weak head, produces every sort of mischief,” (E 54). He warns Emma that her meddling and hubris will end badly, and she should leave Harriet to follow her heart to Mr. Martin, who Knightly sees as a winning catch for the young Harriet of unknown birth.
The differences in the reasons for their walks highlights the heroines’ contrasting natures—Emma thinks her ideas are superior to the feeling of those around her while Elizabeth would roll her eyes at such haughtiness. Their perceptions, too, are in contrast. Elizabeth is judged harshly by her peers for her “blowsy” appearance, while Emma believes her actions as noble and above reproach, yet her motives are misguided.
As if to drive home the danger Harriet is in when walking in Emma, Austen places her in physical danger. Walking might offer those who engage in the act fresh air and quiet places to think, but it can also set one away from the familiar and on the path of harm. This is just what happens to Harriet when she takes the Richmond Road outside of Highbury: “A child on the watch came towards them to beg,” (E 298). Alarmed, but unable to flee, “Harriet was soon assailed by half a dozen children, headed by a stout woman and a great boy” (E 298). She offers them money, but her purse is too tempting and she is surrounded by the entire group and unable to walk away. Austen is punctuating the hazards and limitations of women out in the world—walking may be a grand way for women to catch a moment to themselves, away from the trappings of society, but it is not without danger.
Similar to the intimidation Harriet feels at the hands of the beggars, Lady Catherine de Bourgh attempts to put Elizabeth in her place when she asks her to walk in the “prettyish kind of a little wilderness on one side of your lawn,” (PP 433) to warn her away from Darcy. However, Lady Catherine’s attempt to intimidate is nothing compared to the effect Elizabeth later has on Wickham when she tells him what she knows of his affairs. By the end of their walk, “Wickham was so perfectly satisfied with this conversation, that he never again distressed himself, or provoked his dear sister Elizabeth, by introducing the subject of it; and she was pleased to find that she had said enough to keep him quiet (PP 405).
Regency-era England, under which Austen lived, restricted the movement of women physically, financially, and socially. Entrenched in patriarchal ideals, these rigid social norms limited women’s independence, their ability to own property, and enter institutions of higher education or enter professional careers. Often, marriage was the only way women could attain financial security and social protection. Those who remained unwed could become reliant on male relatives for economic support. A good marriage match could raise a young lady’s social status and ensure financial prosperity. Confined to domestic roles where the virtues of modesty, obedience, and artistic power (painting, music, needlework, ect) women hoped to attract marriage proposals. In Emma, these social limits are plain. Emma may have privilege, but she is not free to move beyond her domestic sphere. Instead, she must amuse herself with painting, attending to the poor, and of course, matchmaking.
In Pride and Prejudice, Austen exemplifies the tightrope-like line women walked as the Bennet sisters try to find stable matches. The Bennet children, all being female, will inherit nothing upon the death of their father. Austen is highlighting how these strict inheritance rules left women vulnerable to poverty if they remained unmarried. Modern readers may view Mrs. Bennet’s obsession with securing wealthy husbands for her daughters as shallow and frivolous; however, her actions reflect the stark realities faced by women in the Regency-era. Elizabeth’s spirited wit and independence buck against social norms, yet her marriage to Darcy at the close of the novel realign with expectations. However, she retains her agency by marrying Darcy on her terms, not those of society. If Elizabeth had wanted to marry for marrying sake, she would have accepted Mr. Collins’s proposal instead of defying social pressure to marry for security: “I thank you again and again for the honour you have done me in your proposals, but to accept them is absolutely impossible. My feelings in every respect forbid it. Can I speak plainer? Do not consider me now as an elegant female intending to plague you, but as a rational creature speaking the truth from her heart.” (PP 138). In this way, Austin critiques society’s view of marriage and how women were seen as objects with little free thought; Mr. Collins believes that he just needs to wear Elizabeth down by asking for her hand repeatedly before she can say yes.
Austen’s use of walking in both novels underscores the constraints placed on her heroines physically and socially. Elizabeth’s muddy trek to Netherfield flies in the face of decorum, exerting her independence and sound sense of self. However, her limited roaming grounds underpin her ability to travel far and wide, keeping her a safe distance from home. Similary, Emma Woodhouse’s strolls through Highbury define the boundaries permissible to women’s movements. Emma’s walks with Harriet and her visit to the poor define the narrow sphere give to women.
Her depictions of walking punctuate the forces pulling against agency and restrictions. While Elizabeth boldly strides, Emma leisurely walks. These expressions of individuality occur within the prescribed limits of womanhood. Austen critiques the absurdity of a system limiting women to domesticity through the simple act of walking. She celebrates her heroines’ abilities to stretch the boundaries.
As a student of literature, I am drawn to how a simple, everyday act can hold such layered symbolic weight in storytelling, especially in women’s narratives. An avid walker myself, Austin’s reoccurring motif of this simple act resonates with me. Society today might be two hundred years removed from the time in which Austen wrote her novels, but regarding walking, especially women walking, we haven’t come that far as a species. Today, women can hold public office, attain higher education, and have careers outside the home, but the act of walking continues to be a powerful indicator of a person’s value system.
To me, walking is a time for self-reflection. A space in the day where time slows down. I see more, experiencing my surroundings—sights, sounds, smells. I understand Austen’s love of walking—it is a fantastic form or exercise, both physically and mentally. In the modern world, walking can also be a protest against air and noise pollution. Austen came before the invention of the automobile. But I can picture her choosing to walk to the library instead of driving. Yet for all of its benefits, walking can bring with is dangers.
Much like the children who fall upon Harriet, walkers, especially women, risk being accosted while enjoying a stroll. We have to be on constant vigil, making sure our music is not too loud so we can hear someone approaching, making sure our whereabouts are known by trusted friends or relatives, and changing up our routes in case we fall into a pattern that could make us a target. However, despite its drawback, walking is still my preferred mode of locomotion.
Austen wove scathing critiques of Regency-ear society into her works without being grandiose. Walking becomes a means for Austen to critique the artificiality of gentility, power imbalances, and the restrictions faced by women. In Pride and Prejudice and Emma, walking provides the read with a window into Austen’s characters’ motives and values—a glimpse into her quiet genius.
