The Last Chronicle of Barset

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The Last Chronicle of Barset Page 15

by Anthony Trollope


  CHAPTER XIII.

  THE BISHOP'S ANGEL.

  It was nearly nine before Mr. Crawley got back to his house, andfound his wife and daughter waiting breakfast for him. "I should notwonder if Grace were over here to-day," said Mrs. Crawley. "She'dbetter remain where she is," said he. After this the meal passedalmost without a word. When it was over, Jane, at a sign from hermother, went up to her father and asked him whether she should readwith him. "Not now," he said, "not just now. I must rest my brainbefore it will be fit for any work." Then he got into the chair overthe fire, and his wife began to fear that he would remain there allthe day.

  But the morning was not far advanced, when there came a visitor whodisturbed him, and by disturbing him did him real service. Just atten there arrived at the little gate before the house a man on apony, whom Jane espied, standing there by the pony's head and lookingabout for some one to relieve him from the charge of his steed.This was Mr. Thumble, who had ridden over to Hogglestock on a poorspavined brute belonging to the bishop's stable, and which had oncebeen the bishop's cob. Now it was the vehicle by which Mrs. Proudie'sepiscopal messages were sent backwards and forwards through atwelve-miles ride round Barchester; and so many were the lady'srequirements, that the poor animal by no means eat the hay ofidleness. Mr. Thumble had suggested to Mrs. Proudie, after theirinterview with the bishop and the giving up of the letter to theclerical messenger's charge, that before hiring a gig from the"Dragon of Wantley," he should be glad to know,--looking as he alwaysdid to "Mary Anne and the children,"--whence the price of the gig wasto be returned to him. Mrs. Proudie had frowned at him,--not with allthe austerity of frowning which she could use when really angered,but simply with a frown which gave her some little time for thought,and would enable her to continue the rebuke if, after thinking,she should find that rebuke was needed. But mature considerationshowed her that Mr. Thumble's caution was not without reason. Werethe bishop energetic,--or even the bishop's managing chaplain asenergetic as he should be, Mr. Crawley might, as Mrs. Proudie feltassured, be made in some way to pay for a conveyance for Mr. Thumble.But the energy was lacking, and the price of the gig, if the gig wereordered, would certainly fall ultimately upon the bishop's shoulders.This was very sad. Mrs. Proudie had often grieved over the necessaryexpenditure of episcopal surveillance, and had been heard to declareher opinion that a liberal allowance for secret service shouldbe made in every diocese. What better could the EcclesiasticalCommissioners do with all those rich revenues which they had stolenfrom the bishops? But there was no such liberal allowance at present,and, therefore, Mrs. Proudie, after having frowned at Mr. Thumble forsome seconds, desired him to take the grey cob. Now, Mr. Thumble hadridden the grey cob before, and would much have preferred a gig. Buteven the grey cob was better than a gig at his own cost.

  "Mamma, there's a man at the gate wanting to come in," said Jane. "Ithink he's a clergyman."

  Mr. Crawley immediately raised his head, though he did not at onceleave his chair. Mrs. Crawley went to the window, and recognized thereverend visitor. "My dear, it is that Mr. Thumble, who is so muchwith the bishop."

  "What does Mr. Thumble want with me?"

  "Nay, my dear; he will tell you that himself." But Mrs. Crawley,though she answered him with a voice intended to be cheerful, greatlyfeared the coming of this messenger from the palace. She perceivedat once that the bishop was about to interfere with her husband inconsequence of that which the magistrates had done yesterday.

  "Mamma, he doesn't know what to do with his pony," said Jane.

  "Tell him to tie it to the rail," said Mr. Crawley. "If he hasexpected to find menials here, as he has them at the palace, he willbe wrong. If he wants to come in here, let him tie the beast to therail." So Jane went out and sent a message to Mr. Thumble by thegirl, and Mr. Thumble did tie the pony to the rail, and followed thegirl into the house. Jane in the meantime had retired out by the backdoor to the school, but Mrs. Crawley kept her ground. She kept herground although she almost believed that her husband would prefer tohave the field to himself. As Mr. Thumble did not at once enter theroom, Mr. Crawley stalked to the door, and stood with it open in hishand. Though he knew Mr. Thumble's person, he was not acquaintedwith him, and therefore he simply bowed to the visitor, bowingmore than once or twice with a cold courtesy, which did not put Mr.Thumble altogether at his ease. "My name is Mr. Thumble," said thevisitor,--"The Reverend Caleb Thumble," and he held the bishop'sletter in his hand. Mr. Crawley seemed to take no notice of theletter, but motioned Mr. Thumble with his hand into the room.

  "I suppose you have come over from Barchester this morning?" saidMrs. Crawley.

  "Yes, madam,--from the palace." Mr. Thumble, though a humble man inpositions in which he felt that humility would become him,--a humbleman to his betters, as he himself would have expressed it,--had stillabout him something of that pride which naturally belonged to thoseclergymen who were closely attached to the palace at Barchester. Hadhe been sent on a message to Plumstead,--could any such message fromBarchester palace have been possible, he would have been properlyhumble in his demeanour to the archdeacon, or to Mrs. Grantly had hebeen admitted to the august presence of that lady; but he was awarethat humility would not become him on his present mission he hadbeen expressly ordered to be firm by Mrs. Proudie, and firm he meantto be; and therefore, in communicating to Mrs. Crawley the fact thathe had come from the palace, he did load the tone of his voice withsomething of dignity which Mr. Crawley might perhaps be excused forregarding as arrogance.

  "And what does the 'palace' want with me?" said Mr. Crawley. Mrs.Crawley knew at once that there was to be a battle. Nay, the battlehad begun. Nor was she altogether sorry; for though she could nottrust her husband to sit alone all day in his arm-chair over thefire, she could trust him to carry on a disputation with any otherclergyman on any subject whatever. "What does the palace want withme?" And as Mr. Crawley asked the question he stood erect, and lookedMr. Thumble full in the face. Mr. Thumble called to mind the fact,that Mr. Crawley was a very poor man indeed,--so poor that he owedmoney all round the country to butchers and bakers, and the otherfact, that he, Mr. Thumble himself, did not owe any money to any one,his wife luckily having a little income of her own; and, strengthenedby these remembrances, he endeavoured to bear Mr. Crawley's attackwith gallantry.

  "Of course, Mr. Crawley, you are aware that this unfortunate affairat Silverbridge--"

  "I am not prepared, sir, to discuss the unfortunate affair atSilverbridge with a stranger. If you are the bearer of any message tome from the Bishop of Barchester, perhaps you will deliver it."

  "I have brought a letter," said Mr. Thumble. Then Mr. Crawleystretched out his hand without a word, and taking the letter with himto the window, read it very slowly. When he had made himself masterof its contents, he refolded the letter, placed it again in theenvelope, and returned to the spot where Mr. Thumble was standing."I will answer the bishop's letter," he said; "I will answer it ofcourse, as it is fitting that I should do. Shall I ask you to waitfor my reply, or shall I send it by course of post?"

  "I think, Mr. Crawley, as the bishop wishes me to undertake theduty--"

  "You will not undertake the duty, Mr. Thumble. You need not troubleyourself, for I shall not surrender my pulpit to you."

  "But the bishop--"

  "I care nothing for the bishop in this matter." So much he spoke inanger, and then he corrected himself. "I crave the bishop's pardon,and yours as his messenger, if in the heat occasioned by my strongfeelings I have said aught which may savour of irreverence towardshis lordship's office. I respect his lordship's high position asbishop of this diocese, and I bow to his commands in all thingslawful. But I must not bow to him in things unlawful, nor must Iabandon my duty before God at his bidding, unless his bidding begiven in accordance with the canons of the Church and the laws of theland. It will be my duty, on the coming Sunday, to lead the prayersof my people in the church of my parish, and to preach to them frommy pulpit; and that duty, with God's assistan
ce, I will perform. Norwill I allow any clergyman to interfere with me in the performanceof those sacred offices,--no, not though the bishop himself shouldbe present with the object of enforcing his illegal command." Mr.Crawley spoke these words without hesitation, even with eloquence,standing upright, and with something of a noble anger gleaming overhis poor wan face; and, I think, that while speaking them, he washappier than he had been for many a long day.

  Mr. Thumble listened to him patiently, standing with one foot alittle in advance of the other, with one hand folded over the other,with his head rather on one side, and with his eyes fixed on thecorner where the wall and ceiling joined each other. He had beentold to be firm, and he was considering how he might best displayfirmness. He thought that he remembered some story of two parsonsfighting for one pulpit, and he thought also that he should nothimself like to incur the scandal of such a proceeding in thediocese. As to the law in the matter he knew nothing himself; buthe presumed that a bishop would probably know the law better than aperpetual curate. That Mrs. Proudie was intemperate and imperious, hewas aware. Had the message come from her alone, he might have feltthat even for her sake he had better give way. But as the despoticarrogance of the lady had been in this case backed by the timidpresence and hesitating words of her lord, Mr. Thumble thoughtthat he must have the law on his side. "I think you will find, Mr.Crawley," said he, "that the bishop's inhibition is strictly legal."He had picked up the powerful word from Mrs. Proudie and flatteredhimself that it might be of use to him in carrying his purpose.

  "It is illegal," said Mr. Crawley, speaking somewhat louder thanbefore, "and will be absolutely futile. As you pleaded to me that youyourself and your own personal convenience were concerned in thismatter, I have made known my intentions to you, which otherwise Ishould have made known only to the bishop. If you please, we willdiscuss the subject no further."

  "Am I to understand, Mr. Crawley, that you refuse to obey thebishop?"

  "The bishop has written to me, sir; and I will make known myintention to the bishop by a written answer. As you have been thebearer of the bishop's letter to me, I am bound to ask you whetherI shall be indebted to you for carrying back my reply, or whetherI shall send it by course of post?" Mr. Thumble considered for amoment, and then made up his mind that he had better wait, and carryback the epistle. This was Friday, and the letter could not bedelivered by post till the Saturday morning. Mrs. Proudie might beangry with him if he should be the cause of loss of time. He didnot, however, at all like waiting, having perceived that Mr. Crawley,though with language courteously worded, had spoken of him as a meremessenger.

  "I think," he said, "that I may, perhaps, best further the objectwhich we must all have in view, that namely of providing properlyfor the Sunday services of the church of Hogglestock, by taking yourreply personally to the bishop."

  "That provision is my care and need trouble no one else," saidMr. Crawley, in a loud voice. Then, before seating himself at hisold desk, he stood awhile, pondering, with his back turned to hisvisitor. "I have to ask your pardon, sir," said he, looking roundfor a moment, "because, by reason of the extreme poverty of thishouse, my wife is unable to offer to you that hospitality which isespecially due from one clergyman to another."

  "Oh, don't mention it," said Mr. Thumble.

  "If you will allow me, sir, I would prefer that it should bementioned." Then he seated himself at his desk, and commenced hisletter.

  Mr. Thumble felt himself to be awkwardly placed. Had there been nothird person in the room he could have sat down in Mr. Crawley'sarm-chair, and waited patiently till the letter should be finished.But Mrs. Crawley was there, and of course he was bound to speak toher. In what strain could he do so? Even he, little as he was givento indulge in sentiment, had been touched by the man's appeal to hisown poverty, and he felt, moreover, that Mrs. Crawley must have beendeeply moved by her husband's position with reference to the bishop'sorder. It was quite out of the question that he should speak of that,as Mr. Crawley would, he was well aware, immediately turn upon him.At last he thought of a subject, and spoke with a voice intended tobe pleasant. "That was the school-house I passed, probably, just as Icame here?" Mrs. Crawley told him that it was the school-house. "Ah,yes, I thought so. Have you a certified teacher here?" Mrs. Crawleyexplained that no Government aid had ever reached Hogglestock.Besides themselves, they had only a young woman whom they themselveshad instructed. "Ah, that is a pity," said Mr. Thumble.

  "I,--I am the certified teacher," said Mr. Crawley, turning roundupon him from his chair.

  "Oh, ah, yes," said Mr. Thumble; and after that Mr. Thumble askedno more questions about the Hogglestock school. Soon afterwards Mrs.Crawley left the room, seeing the difficulty under which Mr. Thumblewas labouring, and feeling sure that her presence would not now benecessary. Mr. Crawley's letter was written quickly, though every nowand then he would sit for a moment with his pen poised in the air,searching his memory for a word. But the words came to him easily,and before an hour was over he had handed his letter to Mr. Thumble.The letter was as follows:--

  The Parsonage, Hogglestock, Dec. 186--.

  RIGHT REVEREND LORD,

  I have received the letter of yesterday's date which your lordship has done me the honour of sending to me by the hands of the Reverend Mr. Thumble, and I avail myself of that gentleman's kindness to return to you an answer by the same means, moved thus to use his patience chiefly by the consideration that in this way my reply to your lordship's injunctions may be in your hands with less delay than would attend the regular course of the mail-post.

  It is with deep regret that I feel myself constrained to inform your lordship that I cannot obey the command which you have laid upon me with reference to the services of my church in this parish. I cannot permit Mr. Thumble, or any other delegate from your lordship, to usurp my place in my pulpit. I would not have you to think, if I can possibly dispel such thoughts from your mind, that I disregard your high office, or that I am deficient in that respectful obedience to the bishop set over me, which is due to the authority of the Crown as the head of the church in these realms; but in this, as in all questions of obedience, he who is required to obey must examine the extent of the authority exercised by him who demands obedience. Your lordship might possibly call upon me, using your voice as bishop of the diocese, to abandon altogether the freehold rights which are now mine in this perpetual curacy. The judge of assize, before whom I shall soon stand for my trial, might command me to retire to prison without a verdict given by the jury. The magistrates who committed me so lately as yesterday, upon whose decision in that respect your lordship has taken action against me so quickly, might have equally strained their authority. But in no case, in this land, is he that is subject bound to obey, further than where the law gives authority and exacts obedience. It is not in the power of the Crown itself to inhibit me from the performance of my ordinary duties in this parish by any such missive as that sent to me by your lordship. If your lordship think it right to stop my mouth as a clergyman in your diocese, you must proceed to do so in an ecclesiastical court in accordance with the laws, and will succeed in your object, or fail, in accordance with the evidences as to ministerial fitness or unfitness, which may be produced respecting me before the proper tribunal.

  I will allow that much attention is due from a clergyman to pastoral advice given to him by his bishop. On that head I must first express to your lordship my full understanding that your letter has not been intended to convey advice, but an order;--an inhibition, as your messenger, the Reverend Mr. Thumble, has expressed it. There might be a case certainly in which I should submit myself to counsel, though I should resist command. No counsel, however, has been given,--except indeed that I should receive your messenger in a proper spirit, which I hope I have done. No other advice has been given me, and therefore there is now no such case as that I have imagined. But in this matter,
my lord, I could not have accepted advice from living man, no, not though the hands of the apostles themselves had made him bishop who tendered it to me, and had set him over me for my guidance. I am in a terrible strait. Trouble, and sorrow, and danger are upon me and mine. It may well be, as your lordship says, that the bitter waters of the present hour may pass over my head and destroy me. I thank your lordship for telling me whither I am to look for assistance. Truly I know not whether there is any to be found for me on earth. But the deeper my troubles, the greater my sorrow, the more pressing my danger, the stronger is my need that I should carry myself in these days with that outward respect of self which will teach those around me to know that, let who will condemn me, I have not condemned myself. Were I to abandon my pulpit, unless forced to do so by legal means, I should in doing so be putting a plea of guilty against myself upon the record. This, my lord, I will not do.

  I have the honour to be, my lord, Your lordship's most obedient servant,

  JOSIAH CRAWLEY.

  When he had finished writing his letter he read it over slowly, andthen handed it to Mr. Thumble. The act of writing, and the current ofthe thoughts through his brain, and the feeling that in every wordwritten he was getting the better of the bishop,--all this joined toa certain manly delight in warfare against authority, lighted up theman's face and gave to his eyes an expression which had been longwanting to them. His wife at that moment came into the room and helooked at her with an air of triumph as he handed the letter to Mr.Thumble. "If you will give that to his lordship with an assuranceof my duty to his lordship in all things proper, I will thank youkindly, craving your pardon for the great delay to which you havebeen subjected."

  "As to the delay, that is nothing," said Mr. Thumble.

  "It has been much; but you as a clergyman will feel that it has beenincumbent on me to speak my mind fully."

  "Oh, yes; of course." Mr. Crawley was standing up, as also was Mrs.Crawley. It was evident to Mr. Thumble that they both expected thathe should go. But he had been specially enjoined to be firm, and hedoubted whether hitherto he had been firm enough. As far as thismorning's work had as yet gone, it seemed to him that Mr. Crawley hadhad the play all to himself, and that he, Mr. Thumble, had not hadhis innings. He, from the palace, had been, as it were, cowed by thisman, who had been forced to plead his own poverty. It was certainlyincumbent upon him, before he went, to speak up, not only for thebishop, but for himself also. "Mr. Crawley," he said, "hitherto Ihave listened to you patiently."

  "Nay," said Mr. Crawley, smiling, "you have indeed been patient, andI thank you; but my words have been written, not spoken."

  "You have told me that you intend to disobey the bishop'sinhibition."

  "I have told the bishop so certainly."

  "May I ask you now to listen to me for a few minutes?"

  Mr. Crawley, still smiling, still having in his eyes the unwontedtriumph which had lighted them up, paused a moment, and then answeredhim. "Reverend sir, you must excuse me if I say no,--not on thissubject."

  "You will not let me speak?"

  "No; not on this matter, which is very private to me. What shouldyou think if I went into your house and inquired of you as to thosethings which were particularly near to you?"

  "But the bishop sent me."

  "Though ten bishops had sent me,--a council of archbishops if youwill!" Mr. Thumble started back, appalled at the energy of the wordsused to him. "Shall a man have nothing of his own;--no sorrow in hisheart, no care in his family, no thought in his breast so private andspecial to him, but that, if he happen to be a clergyman, the bishopmay touch it with his thumb?"

  "I am not the bishop's thumb," said Mr. Thumble, drawing himself up.

  "I intended not to hint anything personally objectionable toyourself. I will regard you as one of the angels of the church." Mr.Thumble, when he heard this, began to be sure that Mr. Crawley wasmad; he knew of no angels that could ride about the Barsetshire laneson grey ponies. "And as such I will respect you; but I cannot discusswith you the matter of the bishop's message."

  "Oh, very well. I will tell his lordship."

  "I will pray you to do so."

  "And his lordship, should he so decide, will arm me with such poweron my next coming as will enable me to carry out his lordship'swishes."

  "His lordship will abide by the law, as will you also." In speakingthese last words he stood with the door in his hand, and Mr. Thumble,not knowing how to increase or even to maintain his firmness, thoughtit best to pass out, and mount his grey pony and ride away.

  "The poor man thought that you were laughing at him when you calledhim an angel of the church," said Mrs. Crawley, coming up to him andsmiling on him.

  "Had I told him he was simply a messenger, he would have taken itworse;--poor fool! When they have rid themselves of me they may puthim here, in my church; but not yet,--not yet. Where is Jane? Tellher that I am ready to commence the Seven against Thebes with her."Then Jane was immediately sent for out of the school, and the Sevenagainst Thebes was commenced with great energy. Often during the nexthour and a half Mrs. Crawley from the kitchen would hear him readingout, or rather saying by rote, with sonorous, rolling voice, greatpassages from some chorus, and she was very thankful to the bishopwho had sent over to them a message and a messenger which had beenso salutary in their effect upon her husband. "In truth an angel ofthe church," she said to herself as she chopped up the onions forthe mutton-broth; and ever afterwards she regarded Mr. Thumble as an"angel."

 

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