Framley Parsonage: Chapter 47

Chapter 47

Nemesis

But in spite of all these joyful tidings it must, alas! be remembered
that Poena, that just but Rhadamanthine goddess, whom we moderns
ordinarily call Punishment, or Nemesis when we wish to speak of her
goddess-ship, very seldom fails to catch a wicked man though she
have sometimes a lame foot of her own, and though the wicked man may
possibly get a start of her. In this instance the wicked man had been
our unfortunate friend Mark Robarts; wicked in that he had wittingly
touched pitch, gone to Gatherum Castle, ridden fast mares across the
country to Cobbold's Ashes, and fallen very imprudently among the
Tozers; and the instrument used by Nemesis was Mr. Tom Towers of the
_Jupiter_, than whom, in these our days, there is no deadlier scourge
in the hands of that goddess. In the first instance, however, I must
mention, though I will not relate, a little conversation which took
place between Lady Lufton and Mr. Robarts. That gentleman thought it
right to say a few words more to her ladyship respecting those money
transactions. He could not but feel, he said, that he had received
that prebendal stall from the hands of Mr. Sowerby; and under such
circumstances, considering all that had happened, he could not be
easy in his mind as long as he held it. What he was about to do
would, he was aware, delay considerably his final settlement with
Lord Lufton; but Lufton, he hoped, would pardon that, and agree with
him as to the propriety of what he was about to do.

On the first blush of the thing Lady Lufton did not quite go along
with him. Now that Lord Lufton was to marry the parson's sister it
might be well that the parson should be a dignitary of the Church;
and it might be well, also, that one so nearly connected with her son
should be comfortable in his money matters. There loomed, also, in
the future, some distant possibility of higher clerical honours for a
peer's brother-in-law; and the top rung of the ladder is always more
easily attained when a man has already ascended a step or two. But,
nevertheless, when the matter came to be fully explained to her, when
she saw clearly the circumstances under which the stall had been
conferred, she did agree that it had better be given up. And well
for both of them it was--well for them all at Framley--that this
conclusion had been reached before the scourge of Nemesis had fallen.
Nemesis, of course, declared that her scourge had produced the
resignation; but it was generally understood that this was a false
boast, for all clerical men at Barchester knew that the stall had
been restored to the chapter, or, in other words, into the hands of
the Government, before Tom Towers had twirled the fatal lash above
his head. But the manner of the twirling was as follows:--

   It is with difficulty enough [said the article in the
   _Jupiter_], that the Church of England maintains at the
   present moment that ascendancy among the religious sects
   of this country which it so loudly claims. And perhaps
   it is rather from an old-fashioned and time-honoured
   affection for its standing than from any intrinsic merits
   of its own that some such general acknowledgement of its
   ascendancy is still allowed to prevail. If, however, the
   patrons and clerical members of this Church are bold
   enough to disregard all general rules of decent behaviour,
   we think we may predict that this chivalrous feeling
   will be found to give way. From time to time we hear of
   instances of such imprudence, and are made to wonder at
   the folly of those who are supposed to hold the State
   Church in the greatest reverence.
   Among those positions of dignified ease to which fortunate
   clergymen may be promoted are the stalls of the canons or
   prebendaries in our cathedrals. Some of these, as is well
   known, carry little or no emolument with them, but some
   are rich in the good things of this world. Excellent
   family houses are attached to them, with we hardly know
   what domestic privileges, and clerical incomes, moreover,
   of an amount which, if divided, would make glad the hearts
   of many a hard-working clerical slave. Reform has been
   busy even among these stalls, attaching some amount of
   work to the pay, and paring off some superfluous wealth
   from such of them as were over full; but reform has been
   lenient with them, acknowledging that it was well to have
   some such places of comfortable and dignified retirement
   for those who have worn themselves out in the hard work of
   their profession. There has of late prevailed a taste for
   the appointment of young bishops, produced no doubt by a
   feeling that bishops should be men fitted to get through
   really hard work; but we have never heard that young
   prebendaries were considered desirable. A clergyman
   selected for such a position should, we have always
   thought, have earned an evening of ease by a long day of
   work, and should, above all things, be one whose life
   has been, and therefore in human probability will be,
   so decorous as to be honourable to the cathedral of his
   adoption.
   We were, however, the other day given to understand
   that one of these luxurious benefices, belonging to the
   cathedral of Barchester, had been bestowed on the Rev.
   Mark Robarts, the vicar of a neighbouring parish, on the
   understanding that he should hold the living and the stall
   together; and on making further inquiry we were surprised
   to learn that this fortunate gentleman is as yet
   considerably under thirty years of age. We were desirous,
   however, of believing that his learning, his piety, and
   his conduct, might be of a nature to add peculiar grace to
   his chapter, and therefore, though almost unwillingly, we
   were silent. But now it has come to our ears, and, indeed,
   to the ears of all the world, that this piety and conduct
   are sadly wanting; and judging of Mr. Robarts by his
   life and associates, we are inclined to doubt even the
   learning. He has at this moment, or at any rate had but
   a few days since, an execution in his parsonage house at
   Framley, on the suit of certain most disreputable bill
   discounters in London; and probably would have another
   execution in his other house in Barchester close, but for
   the fact that he has never thought it necessary to go into
   residence.

Then followed some very stringent, and, no doubt, much needed advice
to those clerical members of the Church of England who are supposed
to be mainly responsible for the conduct of their brethren; and the
article ended as follows:--

   Many of these stalls are in the gift of the respective
   deans and chapters, and in such cases the dean and
   chapters are bound to see that proper persons are
   appointed; but in other instances the power of selection
   is vested in the Crown, and then an equal responsibility
   rests on the Government of the day. Mr. Robarts, we learn,
   was appointed to the stall in Barchester by the late Prime
   Minister, and we really think that a grave censure rests
   on him for the manner in which his patronage has been
   exercised. It may be impossible that he should himself in
   all such cases satisfy himself by personal inquiry. But
   our Government is altogether conducted on the footing of
   vicarial responsibility. _Quod facit per alium, facit per
   se_, is in a special manner true of our ministers, and
   any man who rises to high position among them must abide
   by the danger thereby incurred. In this peculiar case
   we are informed that the recommendation was made by a
   very recently admitted member of the Cabinet, to whose
   appointment we alluded at the time as a great mistake. The
   gentleman in question held no high individual office of
   his own; but evil such as this which has now been done at
   Barchester, is exactly the sort of mischief which follows
   the exaltation of unfit men to high positions, even though
   no great scope for executive failure may be placed within
   their reach.
   If Mr. Robarts will allow us to tender to him our advice
   he will lose no time in going through such ceremony as may
   be necessary again to place the stall at the disposal of
   the Crown!

I may here observe that poor Harold Smith, when he read this,
writhing in agony, declared it to be the handiwork of his hated
enemy, Mr. Supplehouse. He knew the mark; so, at least, he said; but
I myself am inclined to believe that his animosity misled him. I
think that one greater than Mr. Supplehouse had taken upon himself
the punishment of our poor vicar. This was very dreadful to them all
at Framley, and, when first read, seemed to crush them to atoms. Poor
Mrs. Robarts, when she heard it, seemed to think that for them the
world was over. An attempt had been made to keep it from her, but
such attempts always fail, as did this. The article was copied into
all the good-natured local newspapers, and she soon discovered that
something was being hidden. At last it was shown to her by her
husband, and then for a few hours she was annihilated; for a few days
she was unwilling to show herself; and for a few weeks she was very
sad. But after that the world seemed to go on much as it had done
before; the sun shone upon them as warmly as though the article had
not been written; and not only the sun of heaven, which, as a rule,
is not limited in his shining by any display of pagan thunder, but
also the genial sun of their own sphere, the warmth and light of
which were so essentially necessary to their happiness. Neighbouring
rectors did not look glum, nor did the rectors' wives refuse to call.
The people in the shops at Barchester did not regard her as though
she were a disgraced woman, though it must be acknowledged that Mrs.
Proudie passed her in the close with the coldest nod of recognition.

On Mrs. Proudie's mind alone did the article seem to have any
enduring effect. In one respect it was, perhaps, beneficial; Lady
Lufton was at once induced by it to make common cause with her own
clergyman, and thus the remembrance of Mr. Robarts's sins passed away
the quicker from the minds of the whole Framley Court household. And,
indeed, the county at large was not able to give to the matter that
undivided attention which would have been considered its due at
periods of no more than ordinary interest. At the present moment
preparations were being made for a general election, and although no
contest was to take place in the eastern division, a very violent
fight was being carried on in the west; and the circumstances of
that fight were so exciting that Mr. Robarts and his article were
forgotten before their time. An edict had gone forth from Gatherum
Castle directing that Mr. Sowerby should be turned out, and an
answering note of defiance had been sounded from Chaldicotes,
protesting on behalf of Mr. Sowerby, that the duke's behest would
not be obeyed.

There are two classes of persons in this realm who are
constitutionally inefficient to take any part in returning members
to Parliament--peers, namely, and women; and yet it was soon known
through the whole length and breadth of the county that the present
electioneering fight was being carried on between a peer and a
woman. Miss Dunstable had been declared the purchaser of the Chace
of Chaldicotes, as it were, just in the very nick of time; which
purchase--so men in Barsetshire declared, not knowing anything of the
facts--would have gone altogether the other way, had not the giants
obtained temporary supremacy over the gods. The duke was a supporter
of the gods, and therefore, so Mr. Fothergill hinted, his money had
been refused. Miss Dunstable was prepared to beard this ducal friend
of the gods in his own county, and therefore her money had been
taken. I am inclined, however, to think that Mr. Fothergill knew
nothing about it, and to opine that Miss Dunstable, in her eagerness
for victory, offered to the Crown more money than the property was
worth in the duke's opinion, and that the Crown took advantage of her
anxiety, to the manifest profit of the public at large. And it soon
became known also that Miss Dunstable was, in fact, the proprietor
of the whole Chaldicotes estate, and that in promoting the success
of Mr. Sowerby as a candidate for the county, she was standing by
her own tenant. It also became known, in the course of the battle,
that Miss Dunstable had herself at last succumbed, and that she
was about to marry Dr. Thorne of Greshamsbury, or the "Greshamsbury
apothecary," as the adverse party now delighted to call him. "He has
been little better than a quack all his life," said Dr. Fillgrave,
the eminent physician of Barchester, "and now he is going to marry a
quack's daughter." By which, and the like to which, Dr. Thorne did
not allow himself to be much annoyed. But all this gave rise to a
very pretty series of squibs arranged between Mr. Fothergill and Mr.
Closerstill, the electioneering agent. Mr. Sowerby was named "the
lady's pet," and descriptions were given of the lady who kept
this pet, which were by no means flattering to Miss Dunstable's
appearance, or manners, or age. And then the western division of
the county was asked in a grave tone--as counties and boroughs
are asked by means of advertisements stuck up on blind walls and
barn doors--whether it was fitting and proper that it should be
represented by a woman. Upon which the county was again asked whether
it was fitting and proper that it should be represented by a duke.
And then the question became more personal as against Miss Dunstable,
and inquiry was urged whether the county would not be indelibly
disgraced if it were not only handed over to a woman, but handed over
to a woman who sold the oil of Lebanon. But little was got by this
move, for an answering placard explained to the unfortunate county
how deep would be its shame if it allowed itself to become the
appanage of any peer, but more especially of a peer who was known to
be the most immoral lord that ever disgraced the benches of the Upper
House. And so the battle went on very prettily, and, as money was
allowed to flow freely, the West Barsetshire world at large was not
ill satisfied. It is wonderful how much disgrace of that kind a
borough or county can endure without flinching; and wonderful, also,
seeing how supreme is the value attached to the Constitution by the
realm at large, how very little the principles of that Constitution
are valued by the people in detail. The duke, of course, did not show
himself. He rarely did on any occasion, and never on such occasions
as this; but Mr. Fothergill was to be seen everywhere. Miss
Dunstable, also, did not hide her light under a bushel; though I here
declare, on the faith of an historian, that the rumour spread abroad
of her having made a speech to the electors from the top of the porch
over the hotel door at Courcy was not founded on fact. No doubt she
was at Courcy, and her carriage stopped at the hotel; but neither
there nor elsewhere did she make any public exhibition. "They must
have mistaken me for Mrs. Proudie," she said, when the rumour reached
her ears. But there was, alas! one great element of failure on Miss
Dunstable's side of the battle. Mr. Sowerby himself could not be
induced to fight it as became a man. Any positive injunctions that
were laid upon him he did, in a sort, obey. It had been a part of the
bargain that he should stand the contest, and from that bargain he
could not well go back; but he had not the spirit left to him for any
true fighting on his own part. He could not go up on the hustings,
and there defy the duke. Early in the affair Mr. Fothergill
challenged him to do so, and Mr. Sowerby never took up the gauntlet.

"We have heard," said Mr. Fothergill, in that great speech which he
made at the Omnium Arms at Silverbridge--"we have heard much during
this election of the Duke of Omnium, and of the injuries which he is
supposed to have inflicted on one of the candidates. The duke's name
is very frequent in the mouths of the gentlemen--and of the lady--who
support Mr. Sowerby's claims. But I do not think that Mr. Sowerby
himself has dared to say much about the duke. I defy Mr. Sowerby to
mention the duke's name upon the hustings." And it so happened that
Mr. Sowerby never did mention the duke's name.

It is ill fighting when the spirit is gone, and Mr. Sowerby's spirit
for such things was now well nigh broken. It is true that he had
escaped from the net in which the duke, by Mr. Fothergill's aid,
had entangled him; but he had only broken out of one captivity into
another. Money is a serious thing; and when gone cannot be had back
by a shuffle in the game, or a fortunate blow with the battledore, as
may political power, or reputation, or fashion. One hundred thousand
pounds gone, must remain as gone, let the person who claims to have
had the honour of advancing it be Mrs. B. or my Lord C. No lucky
dodge can erase such a claim from the things that be--unless, indeed,
such dodge be possible as Mr. Sowerby tried with Miss Dunstable. It
was better for him, undoubtedly, to have the lady for a creditor than
the duke, seeing that it was possible for him to live as a tenant in
his own old house under the lady's reign. But this he found to be a
sad enough life, after all that was come and gone.

The election on Miss Dunstable's part was lost. She carried on the
contest nobly, fighting it to the last moment, and sparing neither
her own money nor that of her antagonist; but she carried it on
unsuccessfully. Many gentlemen did support Mr. Sowerby because
they were willing enough to emancipate their county from the
duke's thraldom; but Mr. Sowerby was felt to be a black sheep,
as Lady Lufton had called him, and at the close of the election
he found himself banished from the representation of West
Barsetshire;--banished for ever, after having held the county for
five-and-twenty years. Unfortunate Mr. Sowerby! I cannot take leave
of him here without some feeling of regret, knowing that there was
that within him which might, under better guidance, have produced
better things. There are men, even of high birth, who seem as though
they were born to be rogues; but Mr. Sowerby was, to my thinking,
born to be a gentleman. That he had not been a gentleman--that he had
bolted from his appointed course, going terribly on the wrong side
of the posts--let us all acknowledge. It is not a gentleman-like
deed, but a very blackguard action, to obtain a friend's acceptance
to a bill in an unguarded hour of social intercourse. That and
other similar doings have stamped his character too plainly. But,
nevertheless, I claim a tear for Mr. Sowerby, and lament that he has
failed to run his race discreetly, in accordance with the rules of
the Jockey Club, He attempted that plan of living as a tenant in his
old house at Chaldicotes, and of making a living out of the land
which he farmed; but he soon abandoned it. He had no aptitude for
such industry, and could not endure his altered position in the
county. He soon relinquished Chaldicotes of his own accord, and
has vanished away, as such men do vanish--not altogether without
necessary income; to which point in the final arrangement of their
joint affairs, Mrs. Thornes's man of business--if I may be allowed so
far to anticipate--paid special attention. And thus Lord Dumbello,
the duke's nominee, got in, as the duke's nominee had done for
very many years past. There was no Nemesis here--none as yet.
Nevertheless, she with the lame foot will assuredly catch him, the
duke, if it be that he deserve to be caught. With us his grace's
appearance has been so unfrequent that I think we may omit to make
any further inquiry as to his concerns.

One point, however, is worthy of notice, as showing the good sense
with which we manage our affairs here in England. In an early portion
of this story the reader was introduced to the interior of Gatherum
Castle, and there saw Miss Dunstable entertained by the duke in the
most friendly manner. Since those days the lady has become the duke's
neighbour, and has waged a war with him, which he probably felt to
be very vexatious. But, nevertheless, on the next great occasion at
Gatherum Castle, Doctor and Mrs. Thorne were among the visitors, and
to no one was the duke more personally courteous than to his opulent
neighbour, the late Miss Dunstable.

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