Henry Crawford

Henry's barouche on the journey to Sotherton Court. Edmund follows behind on horseback.

Sheehan says there is nothing ordinary about the superficial Crawfords or their devices and desires. "They are not only themselves corrupted ... they are bent upon dominating the wills and corrupting the souls of others.  Rich, clever, and charming, they know how to captivate their audience and “take in” the unsuspecting."[3]

On the family visit to Sotherton Court, Henry transports the five ladies in his fashionable barouche, an upmarket vehicle with seating for four inside and two up top, in its day the equivalent of a modern convertible.[4] On the journey, Henry flirts with Julia who is seated beside him on the box.

In this highly theatrical presentation, carefully crafted scenario and psychological sophistication interact with puns, allusions and hidden meanings.[5] Illicit misconduct is suggested from the moment the young people reach a door, temptingly open, 'which led immediately to... all the sweets of pleasure-grounds, [and] as by one impulse, one wish for air and liberty, all walked out’.[6]

Henry now shifts his attention to Maria, subtly undermining any vestige of respect she might have for Mr Rushworth, her future husband. The group wander through the wooded wilderness and reach a locked gate at the ha-ha. To please Maria, Mr Rushworth returns to the house to fetch the key. The dialogue is full of subtle innuendo. Henry says temptingly to Maria, "You have a very smiling scene before you". She responds, "Do you mean literally or figuratively?"[7] The characters exploit the garden's allegorical potential.[8] Henry suggests that, if she "really wished to be more at large" and could allow herself "to think it not prohibited", then freedom was possible. Fanny watches anxiously as Maria climbs round the gate, claims her freedom and is closely followed by Henry. Colleen Sheehan compares the ha-ha, with its deep ditch separating the darkness of the wood from the light of the open field beyond, to the Eden of Milton's Paradise Lost, where the locked gates open onto a deep gulf separating Hell and Heaven.[3] The drama at the ha-ha is a symbolic forerunner of the future moral transgressions of Henry and Maria. Both Crawfords fulfil the serpentine role as they offer moral shortcuts to happiness. Henry's flirtations cause dissension between the sisters.

Henry, the life and soul of any party or society event, constantly acts; he has many personas but no depth, consistency or identity. He is immature, unable to commit.

At Sotherton, Henry acts out the part of landscape improver. He is full of his own ideas for improvements to the landscape.[9] He is described as the first to go forward to examine the 'capabilities' of the walled garden, hinting at ironic comparison with the celebrated improver, Lancelot 'Capability' Brown. He reprises the role later for Edmund's intended living at Thornton Lacey, though he lacks the consistency to manage effectively his own estate in Norfolk. Henry lives for the present moment, only interested in playing the role of improver.[10]

Henry Crawford visits Thornton Lacey, Edmund Bertram's future living.

At the first suggestion of a theatrical performance at Mansfield Park, Henry, for whom theatre was a new experience, declared he could undertake 'any character that ever was written, from Shylock or Richard III down to the singing hero of a farce in his scarlet coat and cocked hat. I feel as if I could be anything or everything.'

During rehearsals, Fanny considers Henry the best actor of them all. However, she observes the ongoing flirtation between Henry and the about-to-be-married Maria and declares, "Maria acted well, too well."[11] Maria enjoys seeing the jealous discomfort on her sister Julia's face.[12]

Henry's need to live by imitation is expressed when he considers a career in the Church of England during a conversation with Edmund, and in the Royal Navy after listening to exciting tales of the sea from William Price. Henry is a man who constantly reinvents himself.[13]

When Henry unexpectedly falls in love with Fanny, he acts out the part of devoted lover, fully inhabiting the role. Even the hopeful Sir Thomas recognises that the admirable Henry is unlikely to sustain such a role unless Fanny responds quickly.

In chapter 34, when Henry reads Shakespeare's Henry VIII aloud to Fanny, Edmund and Lady Bertram, he impersonates one character after another with great effect,[14] even impressing the reluctant Fanny with his skill.[15] Fanny, a lover of Shakespeare, describes his reading as ‘truly dramatic’. She is awakened by Henry to the pleasures of ‘good hardened real acting’.[16] Thomas Edwards says that even when Henry, during this discussion, tries to please Fanny by renouncing acting, he is still performing. He measures his every word and carefully watches the reaction on her face.[17]

During this conversation, Austen also slips in a discussion on sermon delivery. Henry shows that he has the taste to recognise that the 'redundancies and repetitions' of the liturgy require good reading (in itself a telling criticism, comments Isabel Brodrick). He offers the general (and possibly valid) criticism that a 'sermon well-delivered is more uncommon even than prayers well read'. As Henry continues, his shallowness and self-aggrandisement becomes apparent: "I never listened to a distinguished preacher in my life without a sort of envy. But then, I must have a London audience. I could not preach but to the educated, to those who were capable of estimating my composition." He concludes flippantly, expressing the philosophy of many a lazy clergyman, maintaining that he should not like to preach often, but "now and then, perhaps, once or twice in the spring". Although Edmund laughs, it is clear that he does not share Henry's flippant, self-centred attitude.[18] Henry has made it clear that his interest is in the performance and not the message. Later in the novel, when Henry suggests destroying the grounds of Thornton Lacy to create something new, Edmund rejects his plans, insisting that although the estate needs some improvements, he wishes to preserve the substance of what has been created over the centuries.[19]

A question Austen poses for her readers is whether or not Henry could have been reformed. Maggie Lane offers a sympathetic interpretation of Henry: "We applaud Jane Austen for showing us a flawed man morally improving, struggling, growing, reaching for better things—even if he ultimately fails."[25] Austen's sister, Cassandra, thought Fanny should have married Henry, but despite their arguing about the matter, Jane stood firmly.[26] At the end of the book, the narrator speculates controversially that if Henry had been more patient, Fanny would probably have accepted him. For additionally, her beloved cousin Edmund, whom Fanny longed to marry, might have married Mary, had Mary not destroyed her own reputation by attempting to justify her brother's scandalous affair. Some commentators like Thomas Edwards disagree, believing that if Fanny had accepted Henry, the narcissistic regency rake would have lost interest and turned his attentions elsewhere.

Colleen Sheehan concludes that "just as Fanny tries to remain a bystander to the production of Lovers' Vows but is drawn into the action, we the audience of bystanders are drawn into participation in the drama of Mansfield Park.  Austen does not save Henry and Mary Crawford in this work; only they could save themselves.  Neither does she save her readers.  Our judgement must be our own."[3]

• Robert Burbarge in the 1983 television serial Mansfield Park.
• Alessandro Nivola in the 1999 film adaptation.
• Joseph Beattie in the 2007 BBC television drama Mansfield Park.