The Last Chronicle of Barset

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In the course of these battles Framley Court would sometimes assume
a clerical aspect,--having a prevailing hue, as it were, of black
coats, which was not altogether to the taste of Lord Lufton, and as
to which he would make complaint to his wife, and to Mark Robarts,
himself a clergyman. "There's more of this than I can stand," he'd
say to the latter. "There's a deuced deal more of it than you like
yourself, I know."

"It's not for me to like or dislike. It's a great thing having your
mother in the parish."

"That's all very well; and of course she'll do as she likes. She may
ask whom she pleases here, and I shan't interfere. It's the same as
though it was her own house. But I shall take Lucy to Lufton." Now
Lord Lufton had been building his house at Lufton for the last seven
years and it was not yet finished,--or nearly finished, if all that
his wife had said were true. And if they could have their way, it
never would be finished. And so, in order that Lord Lufton might not
actually be driven away by the turmoils of ecclesiastical contest,
the younger Lady Lufton would endeavour to moderate both the wrath
and the zeal of the elder one, and would struggle against the coming
clergymen. On this day, however, three sat at the board at Framley,
and Lady Lufton, in her justification to her son, swore that the
invitation had been given by her daughter-in-law. "You know, my
dear," the dowager said to Lord Lufton, "something must be done for
these poor Crawleys; and as the dean is away, Lucy wants to speak to
the archdeacon about them."

"And the archdeacon could not subscribe his ten-pound note without
having Mr Champion to back him?"

"My dear Ludovic, you do put it in such a way."

"Never mind, mother. I've no special dislike to Champion, only as
you are not paid five thousand pound a year for your trouble, it is
rather hard that you should have to do all the work of opposition
bishop in the diocese."

It was felt by them all,--including Lord Lufton himself, who became
so interested in the matter as to forgive the black coats before the
evening was over,--that this matter of Mr Crawley's committal was
very serious, and demanded the full energies of their party. It was
known to them all that the feeling at the palace was inimical to Mr
Crawley. "That she-Beelzebub hates him for his poverty, and because
Arabin brought him into the diocese," said the archdeacon, permitting
himself to use very strong language in his allusion to the bishop's
wife. It must be recorded on his behalf that he used the phrase in
the presence only of the gentlemen of the party. I think he might
have whispered the word in the ear of his confidential friend old
Lady Lufton, and perhaps have given no offence; but he would not have
ventured to use such words aloud in the presence of ladies.

"You forget, archdeacon," said Dr Thorne, laughing, "that the
she-Beelzebub is my wife's particular friend."

"Not a bit of it," said the archdeacon. "Your wife knows better than
that. You tell her what I call her, and if she complains of the name
I'll unsay it." It may therefore be supposed that Dr Thorne, and
Mrs Thorne, and the archdeacon, knew each other intimately, and
understood each other's feelings on these matters.

It was quite true that the palace party was inimical to Mr Crawley.
Mr Crawley undoubtedly was poor, and had not been so submissive to
episcopal authority as it behoves any clergyman to be whose loaves
and fishes are scanty. He had raised his back more than once against
orders emanating from the palace in a manner that had made the hairs
on the head of the bishop's wife to stand almost on end, and had
taken as much upon himself as though his living had been worth twelve
hundred a year. Mrs Proudie, almost as energetic in her language as
the archdeacon, had called him a beggarly perpetual curate. "We must
have perpetual curates, my dear," the bishop had said. "They should
know their places then. But what can you expect of a creature from
the deanery? All that ought to be altered. The dean should have no
patronage in the diocese. No dean should have any patronage. It is
an abuse from the beginning to the end. Dean Arabin, if he had any
conscience, would be doing the duty at Hogglestock himself." How the
bishop strove to teach his wife, with mildest words, what really
ought to be a dean's duty, and how the wife rejoined by teaching her
husband, not in the mildest words, what ought to be a bishop's duty,
we will not further inquire here. The fact that such dialogues took
place at the palace is recorded simply to show that the palatial
feeling in Barchester ran counter to Mr Crawley.

And this was cause enough, if no other cause existed, for partiality
to Mr Crawley at Framley Court. But, as has been partly explained,
there existed, if possible, even stronger ground than this for
adherence to the Crawley cause. The younger Lady Lufton had known
the Crawleys intimately, and the elder Lady Lufton had reckoned them
among the neighbouring clerical families of her acquaintance. Both
these ladies were therefore staunch in their defence of Mr Crawley.
The archdeacon himself had his own reasons,--reasons which for the
present he kept altogether within his own bosom,--for wishing that Mr
Crawley had never entered the diocese. Whether the perpetual curate
should or should not be declared to be a thief, it would terrible
to him to have to call the child of that perpetual curate his
daughter-in-law. But not the less on this occasion was he true to his
order, true to his side in the diocese, true to his hatred of the
palace.

"I don't believe it for a moment," he said, as he took his place on
the rug before the fire in the drawing-room when the gentlemen came
in from their wine. The ladies understood at once what it was that he
couldn't believe. Mr Crawley had for the moment so usurped the county
that nobody thought of talking of anything else.

"How is it then," said Mrs Thorne, "that Lord Lufton, and my husband,
and the other wiseacres at Silverbridge, have committed him for
trial?"

"Because we were told to do so by the lawyer," said Dr Thorne.

"Ladies will never understand that magistrates must act in accordance
with the law," said Lord Lufton.

"But you all say he's not guilty," said Mrs Robarts.

"The fact is, that the magistrate cannot try the question," said the
archdeacon; "they only hear primary evidence. In this case I don't
believe Crawley would ever have been committed if he had employed an
attorney, instead of speaking for himself."

"Why didn't somebody make him have an attorney?" said Lady Lufton.

"I don't think any attorney in the world could have spoken for him
better than he spoke for himself," said Dr Thorne.

"And yet you committed him," said his wife. "What can we do for him?
Can't we pay the bail, and send him off to America?"

"A jury will never find him guilty," said Lord Lufton.

"And what is the truth of it?" asked the younger Lady Lufton.

Then the whole matter was discussed again, and it was settled among
them all that Mr Crawley had undoubtedly appropriated the cheque
through temporary obliquity of judgment,--obliquity of judgment and
forgetfulness as to the source from whence the cheque had come to
him. "He has picked it up about the house, and then has thought that
it was his own," said Lord Lufton. Had they come to the conclusion
that such an appropriation of money had been made by one of the
clergy of the palace, by one of the Proudieian party, they would
doubtless have been very loud and very bitter as to the iniquity
of the offender. They would have said much as to the weakness of
the bishop and the wickedness of the bishop's wife, and would have
declared the appropriator to have been as very a thief as ever
picked a pocket or opened a till;--but they were unanimous in their
acquittal of Mr Crawley. It had not been his intention, they said, to
be a thief, and a man should be judged only by his intention. It must
now be their object to induce a Barchester jury to look at the matter
in the same light.

"When they come to understand how the land lies," said the
archdeacon, "they will be all right. There's not a tradesman in the
city who does not hate that woman as though she were--"

"Archdeacon," said his wife, cautioning him to repress his energy.

"Their bills are all paid by this new chaplain they've got, and he is
made to claim discount on every leg of mutton," said the archdeacon.
Arguing from which fact,--or from which assertion, he came to the
conclusion that no Barchester jury would find Mr Crawley guilty.

But it was agreed on all sides that it would not be well to trust to
the unassisted friendship of the Barchester tradesmen. Mr Crawley
must be provided with legal assistance, and this must be furnished
to him whether he should be willing or unwilling to receive it. That
there would be a difficulty was acknowledged. Mr Crawley was known to
be a man not easy of persuasion, with a will of his own, with a great
energy of obstinacy on points which he chose to take up as being of
importance to his calling, or to his own professional status. He had
pleaded his own cause before the magistrates, and it might be that
he would insist on doing the same thing before the judge. At last
Mr Robarts, the clergyman of Framley, was deputed from the knot of
Crawleian advocates assembled in Lady Lufton's drawing-room, to
undertake the duty of seeing Mr Crawley, and of explaining to him
that his proper defence was regarded as a matter appertaining to the
clergy and gentry generally of that part of the country, and that
for the sake of the clergy and gentry the defence must of course be
properly conducted. In such circumstances the expense of the defence
would of course be borne by the clergy and gentry concerned. It was
thought that Mr Robarts could put the matter to Mr Crawley with such
a mixture of the strength of manly friendship and the softness of
clerical persuasion, as to overcome the recognised difficulties of
the task.




CHAPTER XI

The Bishop Sends His Inhibition


Tidings of Mr Crawley's fate reached the palace at Barchester on the
afternoon of the day on which the magistrates had committed him. All
such tidings travel very quickly, conveyed by imperceptible wires,
and distributed by indefatigable message boys whom Rumour seems to
supply for the purpose. Barchester is twenty miles from Silverbridge
by road, and more than forty by railway. I doubt whether any one was
commissioned to send the news along the actual telegraph, and yet Mrs
Proudie knew it before four o'clock. But she did not know it quite
accurately. "Bishop," she said, standing at her husband's study door.
"They have committed that man to gaol. There was no help for them
unless they had forsworn themselves."

"Not forsworn themselves, my dear," said the bishop, striving, as was
usual with him, by some meek and ineffectual word to teach his wife
that she was occasionally led by her energy into error. He never
persisted in the lessons when he found, as was usual, that they were
taken amiss.

"I say forsworn themselves!" said Mrs Proudie; "and now what do you
mean to do? This is Thursday, and of course the man must not be
allowed to desecrate the church of Hogglestock by performing the
Sunday services."

"If he has been committed, my dear, and is in prison--"

"I said nothing about prison, bishop."

"Gaol, my dear."

"I say they have committed him to gaol. So my informant tells me.
But of course all the Plumstead and Framley set will move heaven and
earth to get him out, so that he may be there as a disgrace to the
diocese. I wonder how the dean will feel when he hears of it! I do
indeed. For the dean, though he is an idle, useless man, with no
church principles, and no real piety, still he has a conscience. I
think he has a conscience."

"I'm sure he has, my dear."

"Well;--let us hope so. And if he has a conscience, what must be his
feelings when he hears that this creature whom he has brought into
the diocese has been committed to gaol along with common felons."

"Not with felons, my dear; at least, I should think not."

"I say with common felons! A downright robbery of twenty pounds,
just as though he had broken into the bank! And so he did, with
sly artifice, which is worse in such hands than a crowbar. And now
what are we to do? Here is Thursday, and something must be done
before Sunday for the souls of those poor benighted creatures at
Hogglestock." Mrs Proudie was ready for the battle, and was even now
sniffing the blood afar-off. "I believe it's a hundred and thirty
pounds a year," she said, before the bishop had collected his
thoughts sufficiently for a reply.

"I think we must find out, first of all, whether he is really to be
shut up in prison," said the bishop.

"And suppose he is not to be shut up. Suppose they have been weak,
or untrue to their duty--and from what we know of the magistrates of
Barsetshire, there is too much reason to suppose that they will have
been so; suppose they have let him out, is he to go about like a
roaring lion--among the souls of the people?"

The bishop shook in his shoes. When Mrs Proudie began to talk of the
souls of the people he always shook in his shoes. She had an eloquent
way of raising her voice over the word souls that was qualified
to make any ordinary man shake in his shoes. The bishop was a
conscientious man, and well knew that poor Mr Crawley, even though he
might have become a thief under terrible temptation, would not roar
at Hogglestock to the injury of any man's soul. He was aware that
this poor clergyman had done his duty laboriously and efficiently,
and he was also aware that though he might have been committed by the
magistrates, and then let out upon bail, he should not be regarded
now, in these days before his trial, as a convicted thief. But to
explain all this to Mrs Proudie was beyond his power. He knew well
that she would not hear a word in mitigation of Mr Crawley's presumed
offence. Mr Crawley belonged to the other party, and Mrs Proudie was
a thorough-going partisan. I know a man,--an excellent fellow, who,
being himself a strong politician, constantly expresses a belief
that all politicians opposed to him are thieves, child-murderers,
parricides, lovers of incest, demons upon earth. He is a strong
partisan, but not, I think, so strong as Mrs Proudie. He says that he
believes all evil of his opponents; but she really believed the evil.
The archdeacon had called Mrs Proudie a she-Beelzebub; but that was
a simple ebullition of mortal hatred. He believed her to be simply
a vulgar, interfering, brazen-faced virago. Mrs Proudie in truth
believed that the archdeacon was an actual emanation from Satan, sent
to these parts to devour souls,--as she would call it,--and that she
herself was an emanation of another sort, sent from another source
expressly to Barchester, to prevent such devouring, as far as it
might possibly be prevented by a mortal agency. The bishop knew it
all,--understood it all. He regarded the archdeacon as a clergyman
belonging to a party opposed to his party, and he disliked the man.
He knew that from his first coming into the diocese he had been
encountered with enmity by the archdeacon and the archdeacon's
friends. If left to himself he could feel and to a certain extent
could resent such enmity. But he had no faith in his wife's doctrine
of emanations. He had no faith in many things which she believed
religiously;--and yet what could he do? If he attempted to explain,
she would stop him before he had got through the first half of his
first sentence.

"If he is out on bail--," commenced the bishop.

"Of course he will be out on bail."

"Then I think he should feel--"

"Feel! such men never feel! What feeling can one expect from a
convicted thief?"

"Not convicted yet, my dear," said the bishop.

"A convicted thief," repeated Mrs Proudie; and she vociferated the
words in such a tone that the bishop resolved that he would for the
future let the word convicted pass without notice. After all she was
only using the phrase in a peculiar sense given to it by herself.

"It won't be proper, certainly, that he should do the services,"
suggested the bishop.

"Proper! It would be a scandal to the whole diocese. How could he
raise his head as he pronounced the eighth commandment? That must be
at least prevented."

The bishop, who was seated, fretted himself in his chair, moving
about with little movements. He knew that there was a misery coming
upon him; and, as far as he could see, it might become a great
misery,--a huge blistering sore upon him. When miseries came to him,
as they did not unfrequently, he would unconsciously endeavour to
fathom them and weigh them, and then, with some gallantry, resolve to
bear them, if he could find that their depth and weight were not too
great for his powers of endurance. He would let the cold wind whistle
by him, putting up the collar of his coat, and would encounter the
winter weather without complaint. And he would be patient under the
sun, knowing well that tranquillity is best for those who have to
bear tropical heat. But when the storm threatened to knock him off
his legs, when the earth beneath him became too hot for his poor
tender feet,--what could he do then? There had been with him such
periods of misery, during which he had wailed inwardly and had
confessed to himself that the wife of his bosom was too much for him.
Now the storm seemed to be coming very roughly. It would be demanded
of him that he should exercise certain episcopal authority which he
knew did not belong to him. Now, episcopal authority admits of being
stretched or contracted according to the character of the bishop who
uses it. It is not always easy for a bishop himself to know what he
may do, and what he may not do. He may certainly give advice to any
clergyman in his diocese, and he may give it in such form that it
will have in it something of authority. Such advice coming from a
dominant bishop to a clergyman with a submissive mind, has in it very
much of authority. But Bishop Proudie knew that Mr Crawley was not a
clergyman with a submissive mind, and he feared that he himself, as
regarded from Mr Crawley's point of view, was not a dominant bishop.
And yet he could only act by advice. "I will write to him," said
the bishop, "and will explain to him that as he is circumstanced he
should not appear in the reading-desk."

"Of course he must not appear in the reading-desk. That scandal must
at any rate be inhibited." Now the bishop did not at all like the use
of the word inhibited, understanding well that Mrs Proudie intended
it to be understood as implying some episcopal command against which
there should be no appeal;--but he let it pass.

"I will write to him, my dear, to-night."

"And Mr Thumble can go over with the letter the first thing in the
morning."

"Will not the post be better?"

"No, bishop; certainly not."

"He would get it sooner, if I write to-night, my dear."

"In either case he will get it to-morrow morning. An hour or two will
not signify, and if Mr Thumble takes it himself we shall know how it
is received. It will be well that Thumble should be there in person
as he will want to look for lodgings in the parish."

"But, my dear--"

"Well, bishop?"

"About lodgings? I hardly think that Mr Thumble, if we decide that Mr
Thumble shall undertake the duty--"

"We have decided that Mr Thumble should undertake the duty. That is
decided."

"But I do not think he should trouble himself to look for lodgings at
Hogglestock. He can go over on the Sundays."

"And who is to do the parish work? Would you have that man, a
convicted thief, to look after the schools, and visit the sick, and
perhaps attend the dying?"

"There will be a great difficulty; there will indeed," said the
bishop, becoming very unhappy, and feeling that he was driven by
circumstances either to assert his own knowledge or teach his wife
something of the law with reference to his position as a bishop. "Who
is to pay Mr Thumble?"

"The income of the parish must be sequestrated, and he must be paid
out of that. Of course he must have the income while he does the
work."

"But, my dear, I cannot sequestrate the man's income."

"I don't believe it, bishop. If the bishop cannot sequestrate, who
can? But you are always timid in exercising the authority put into
your hands for wise purposes. Not sequestrate the income of a man
who has been proved to be a thief! You leave that to us, and we
will manage it." The "us" here named comprised Mrs Proudie and the
bishop's managing chaplain.

Then the bishop was left alone for an hour to write the letter which
Mr Thumble was to carry over to Mr Crawley,--and after a while he
did write it. Before he commenced the task, however, he sat for some
moments in his arm-chair close by the fire-side, asking himself
whether it might not be possible for him to overcome his enemy in
this matter. How would it go with him suppose he were to leave the
letter unwritten, and send in a message by his chaplain to Mrs
Proudie, saying that as Mr Crawley was out on bail, the parish might
be left for the present without episcopal interference? She could not
make him interfere. She could not force him to write the letter. So,
at least, he said to himself. But as he said it, he almost thought
that she could do these things. In the last thirty years, or more,
she had ever contrived by some power latent in her to have her will
effected. But what would happen if now, even now, he were to rebel?
That he would personally become very uncomfortable, he was well
aware, but he thought that he could bear that. The food would become
bad,--mere ashes between his teeth, the daily modicum of wine would
lose its flavour, the chimneys would all smoke, the wind would come
from the east, and the servants would not answer the bell. Little
miseries of that kind would crowd upon him. He had arrived at a time
in life in which such miseries make such men very miserable; but yet
he thought that he could endure them. And what other wretchedness
would come to him? She would scold him,--frightfully, loudly,
scornfully, and worse than all, continually. But of this he had so
much habitually, that anything added might be borne also;--if only he
could be sure that the scoldings should go on in private, that the
world of the palace should not be allowed to hear the revilings to
which he would be subjected. But to be scolded publicly was the great
evil which he dreaded beyond all evils. He was well aware that the
palace would know his misfortune, that it was known, and freely
discussed by all, from the examining chaplain down to the palace
boot-boy;--nay, that it was known to all the diocese; but yet he
could smile upon those around him, and look as though he held his
own like other men,--unless when open violence was displayed. But
when that voice was heard aloud along the corridors of the palace,
and when he was summoned imperiously by the woman, calling for the
bishop, so that all Barchester heard it, and when he was compelled
to creep forth from his study, at the sound of that summons, with
distressed face, and shaking hands, and short hurrying steps,--a
being to be pitied even by a deacon,--not venturing to assume
an air of masterdom should he chance to meet a housemaid on the
stairs,--then, at such moments as that, he would feel that any
submission was better than the misery which he suffered. And he well
knew that should he now rebel, the whole house would be in a turmoil.
He would be bishoped here, and bishoped there, before the eyes of all
palatial men and women, till life would be a burden to him. So he got
up from his seat over the fire, and went to his desk and wrote the
letter. The letter was as follows:--


THE PALACE, BARCHESTER,
-- December, 186--

REVEREND SIR,--[he left out the dear, because he knew
that if he inserted it he would be compelled to write the
letter over again]

I have heard to-day with the greatest trouble of spirit,
that you have been taken before a bench of magistrates
assembled at Silverbridge, having been previously arrested
by the police in your parsonage house at Hogglestock, and
that the magistrates of Silverbridge have committed you to
take your trial at the next assizes at Barchester, on a
charge of theft.

Far be it from me to prejudge the case. You will
understand, reverend sir, that I express no opinion
whatever as to your guilt or innocence in this matter.
If you have been guilty, may the Lord give you grace to
repent of your great sin and to make such amends as may
come from immediate acknowledgement and confession. If you
are innocent, may He protect you, and make your innocence
shine before all men. In either case may the Lord be with
you and keep your feet from further stumbling.

But I write to you now as your bishop, to explain to you
that, circumstanced as you are, you cannot with decency
perform the church services of your parish. I have that
confidence in you that I doubt not you will agree with
me in this, and will be grateful to me for relieving you
from the immediate perplexities of your position. I have,
therefore, appointed the Rev Caleb Thumble to perform the
duties of incumbent of Hogglestock till such time as a
jury shall have decided upon your case at Barchester; and
in order that you may at once become acquainted with Mr
Thumble, as will be most convenient that you should do, I
will commission him to deliver this letter into your hand
personally to-morrow, trusting that you will receive him
with that brotherly spirit in which he is sent on this
painful mission.