Doctor Thorne

by Anthony Trollope

  CHAPTER XV

  Courcy

  When Frank Gresham expressed to his father an opinion that CourcyCastle was dull, the squire, as may be remembered, did not pretend todiffer from him. To men such as the squire, and such as the squire'sson, Courcy Castle was dull. To what class of men it would not bedull the author is not prepared to say; but it may be presumed thatthe de Courcys found it to their liking, or they would have made itother than it was.

  The castle itself was a huge brick pile, built in the days of WilliamIII, which, though they were grand for days of the construction ofthe Constitution, were not very grand for architecture of a morematerial description. It had, no doubt, a perfect right to be calleda castle, as it was entered by a castle-gate which led into a court,the porter's lodge for which was built as it were into the wall;there were attached to it also two round, stumpy adjuncts, whichwere, perhaps properly, called towers, though they did not do much inthe way of towering; and, moreover, along one side of the house, overwhat would otherwise have been the cornice, there ran a castellatedparapet, through the assistance of which, the imagination no doubtwas intended to supply the muzzles of defiant artillery. But anyartillery which would have so presented its muzzle must have beenvery small, and it may be doubted whether even a bowman could haveobtained shelter there.

  The grounds about the castle were not very inviting, nor, as grounds,very extensive; though, no doubt, the entire domain was such assuited the importance of so puissant a nobleman as Earl de Courcy.What, indeed, should have been the park was divided out into variouslarge paddocks. The surface was flat and unbroken; and thoughthere were magnificent elm-trees standing in straight lines, likehedgerows, the timber had not that beautiful, wild, scattered lookwhich generally gives the great charm to English scenery.

  The town of Courcy--for the place claimed to rank as a town--wasin many particulars like the castle. It was built of dingy-redbrick--almost more brown than red--and was solid, dull-looking, uglyand comfortable. It consisted of four streets, which were formed bytwo roads crossing each other, making at the point of junction acentre for the town. Here stood the Red Lion had it been called thebrown lion, the nomenclature would have been more strictly correct;and here, in the old days of coaching, some life had been wont tostir itself at those hours in the day and night when the Freetraders,Tallyhoes, and Royal Mails changed their horses. But now there was arailway station a mile and a half distant, and the moving life of thetown of Courcy was confined to the Red Lion omnibus, which seemed topass its entire time in going up and down between the town and thestation, quite unembarrassed by any great weight of passengers.

  There were, so said the Courcyites when away from Courcy, excellentshops in the place; but they were not the less accustomed, whenat home among themselves, to complain to each other of the vileextortion with which they were treated by their neighbours. Theironmonger, therefore, though he loudly asserted that he could beatBristol in the quality of his wares in one direction, and undersellGloucester in another, bought his tea and sugar on the sly in oneof those larger towns; and the grocer, on the other hand, equallydistrusted the pots and pans of home production. Trade, therefore, atCourcy, had not thriven since the railway had opened: and, indeed,had any patient inquirer stood at the cross through one entire day,counting customers who entered the neighbouring shops, he might wellhave wondered that any shops in Courcy could be kept open.

  And how changed has been the bustle of that once noisy inn to thepresent death-like silence of its green courtyard! There, a lameostler crawls about with his hands thrust into the capacious pocketsof his jacket, feeding on memory. That weary pair of omnibus jades,and three sorry posters, are all that now grace those stables wherehorses used to be stalled in close contiguity by the dozen; wheretwenty grains apiece, abstracted from every feed of oats consumedduring the day, would have afforded a daily quart to the luckypilferer.

  Come, my friend, and discourse with me. Let us know what are thyideas of the inestimable benefits which science has conferred on usin these, our latter days. How dost thou, among others, appreciaterailways and the power of steam, telegraphs, telegrams, and our newexpresses? But indifferently, you say. "Time was I've zeed vifteenpair o' 'osses go out of this 'ere yard in vour-and-twenty hour;and now there be'ant vifteen, no, not ten, in vour-and-twenty days!There was the duik--not this 'un; he be'ant no gude; but this 'un'svather--why, when he'd come down the road, the cattle did be a-going,vour days an eend. Here'd be the tooter and the young gen'lmen, andthe governess and the young leddies, and then the servants--they'dbe al'ays the grandest folk of all--and then the duik and thedoochess--Lord love 'ee, zur; the money did fly in them days! Butnow--" and the feeling of scorn and contempt which the lame ostlerwas enabled by his native talent to throw into the word "now," wasquite as eloquent against the power of steam as anything that hasbeen spoken at dinners, or written in pamphlets by the keenestadmirers of latter-day lights.

  "Why, luke at this 'ere town," continued he of the sieve, "the grassbe a-growing in the very streets;--that can't be no gude. Why, luke'ee here, zur; I do be a-standing at this 'ere gateway, just thisway, hour arter hour, and my heyes is hopen mostly;--I zees who'sa-coming and who's a-going. Nobody's a-coming and nobody's a-going;that can't be no gude. Luke at that there homnibus; why, darn me--"and now, in his eloquence at this peculiar point, my friend becamemore loud and powerful than ever--"why, darn me, if maister harnsenough with that there bus to put hiron on them 'osses' feet,I'll--be--blowed!" And as he uttered this hypothetical denunciationon himself he spoke very slowly, bringing out every word as it wereseparately, and lowering himself at his knees at every sound, movingat the same time his right hand up and down. When he had finished,he fixed his eyes upon the ground, pointing downwards, as if therewas to be the site of his doom if the curse that he had called downupon himself should ever come to pass; and then, waiting no furtherconverse, he hobbled away, melancholy, to his deserted stables.

  Oh, my friend! my poor lame friend! it will avail nothing to tellthee of Liverpool and Manchester; of the glories of Glasgow, with herflourishing banks; of London, with its third millions of inhabitants;of the great things which commerce is doing for this nation of thine!What is commerce to thee, unless it be commerce in posting on thatworn-out, all but useless great western turnpike-road? There isnothing left for thee but to be carted away as rubbish--for theeand for many of us in these now prosperous days; oh, my melancholy,care-ridden friend!

  Courcy Castle was certainly a dull place to look at, and Frank, inhis former visits, had found that the appearance did not belie thereality. He had been but little there when the earl had been atCourcy; and as he had always felt from his childhood a peculiardistaste to the governance of his aunt the countess, this perhaps mayhave added to his feeling of dislike. Now, however, the castle wasto be fuller than he had ever before known it; the earl was to be athome; there was some talk of the Duke of Omnium coming for a day ortwo, though that seemed doubtful; there was some faint doubt of LordPorlock; Mr Moffat, intent on the coming election--and also, let ushope, on his coming bliss--was to be one of the guests; and there wasalso to be the great Miss Dunstable.

  Frank, however, found that those grandees were not expected quiteimmediately. "I might go back to Greshamsbury for three or four daysas she is not to be here," he said naively to his aunt, expressing,with tolerable perspicuity, his feeling, that he regarded his visitto Courcy Castle quite as a matter of business. But the countesswould hear of no such arrangement. Now that she had got him, shewas not going to let him fall back into the perils of Miss Thorne'sintrigues, or even of Miss Thorne's propriety. "It is quiteessential," she said, "that you should be here a few days before her,so that she may see that you are at home." Frank did not understandthe reasoning; but he felt himself unable to rebel, and he therefore,remained there, comforting himself, as best he might, with theeloquence of the Honourable George, and the sporting humours of theHonourable John.

  Mr Moffat's was the earliest arrival of any importance
. Frank hadnot hitherto made the acquaintance of his future brother-in-law, andthere was, therefore, some little interest in the first interview. MrMoffat was shown into the drawing-room before the ladies had gone upto dress, and it so happened that Frank was there also. As no oneelse was in the room but his sister and two of his cousins, he hadexpected to see the lovers rush into each other's arms. But Mr Moffatrestrained his ardour, and Miss Gresham seemed contented that heshould do so.

  He was a nice, dapper man, rather above the middle height, andgood-looking enough had he had a little more expression in his face.He had dark hair, very nicely brushed, small black whiskers, and asmall black moustache. His boots were excellently well made, andhis hands were very white. He simpered gently as he took hold ofAugusta's fingers, and expressed a hope that she had been quite wellsince last he had the pleasure of seeing her. Then he touched thehands of the Lady Rosina and the Lady Margaretta.

  "Mr Moffat, allow me to introduce you to my brother?"

  "Most happy, I'm sure," said Mr Moffat, again putting out his hand,and allowing it to slip through Frank's grasp, as he spoke in apretty, mincing voice: "Lady Arabella quite well?--and your father,and sisters? Very warm isn't it?--quite hot in town, I do assureyou."

  "I hope Augusta likes him," said Frank to himself, arguing on thesubject exactly as his father had done; "but for an engaged lover heseems to me to have a very queer way with him." Frank, poor fellow!who was of a coarser mould, would, under such circumstances, havebeen all for kissing--sometimes, indeed, even under othercircumstances.

  Mr Moffat did not do much towards improving the conviviality ofthe castle. He was, of course, a good deal intent upon his comingelection, and spent much of his time with Mr Nearthewinde, thecelebrated parliamentary agent. It behoved him to be a good dealat Barchester, canvassing the electors and undermining, by MrNearthewinde's aid, the mines for blowing him out of his seat, whichwere daily being contrived by Mr Closerstil, on behalf of Sir Roger.The battle was to be fought on the internecine principle, no quarterbeing given or taken on either side; and of course this gave MrMoffat as much as he knew how to do.

  Mr Closerstil was well known to be the sharpest man at his businessin all England, unless the palm should be given to his great rivalMr Nearthewinde; and in this instance he was to be assisted in thebattle by a very clever young barrister, Mr Romer, who was an admirerof Sir Roger's career in life. Some people in Barchester, when theysaw Sir Roger, Closerstil and Mr Romer saunter down the High Street,arm in arm, declared that it was all up with poor Moffat; but others,in whose head the bump of veneration was strongly pronounced,whispered to each other that great shibboleth--the name of the Dukeof Omnium--and mildly asserted it to be impossible that the duke'snominee should be thrown out.

  Our poor friend the squire did not take much interest in the matter,except in so far that he liked his son-in-law to be in Parliament.Both the candidates were in his eye equally wrong in their opinions.He had long since recanted those errors of his early youth, whichhad cost him his seat for the county, and had abjured the de Courcypolitics. He was staunch enough as a Tory now that his being so wouldno longer be of the slightest use to him; but the Duke of Omnium,and Lord de Courcy, and Mr Moffat were all Whigs; Whigs, however,differing altogether in politics from Sir Roger, who belonged tothe Manchester school, and whose pretensions, through some of thoseinscrutable twists in modern politics which are quite unintelligibleto the minds of ordinary men outside the circle, were on thisoccasion secretly favoured by the high Conservative party.

  How Mr Moffat, who had been brought into the political world by Lordde Courcy, obtained all the weight of the duke's interest I nevercould exactly learn. For the duke and the earl did not generally actas twin-brothers on such occasions.

  There is a great difference in Whigs. Lord de Courcy was a CourtWhig, following the fortunes, and enjoying, when he could get it, thesunshine of the throne. He was a sojourner at Windsor, and a visitorat Balmoral. He delighted in gold sticks, and was never so happy aswhen holding some cap of maintenance or spur of precedence with duedignity and acknowledged grace in the presence of all the Court.His means had been somewhat embarrassed by early extravagance; and,therefore, as it was to his taste to shine, it suited him to shine atthe cost of the Court rather than at his own.

  The Duke of Omnium was a Whig of a very different calibre. He rarelywent near the presence of majesty, and when he did do so, he did itmerely as a disagreeable duty incident to his position. He was verywilling that the Queen should be queen so long as he was allowed tobe Duke of Omnium. Nor had he begrudged Prince Albert any of hishonours till he was called Prince Consort. Then, indeed, he had,to his own intimate friends, made some remark in three words, notflattering to the discretion of the Prime Minister. The Queen mightbe queen so long as he was Duke of Omnium. Their revenues wereabout the same, with the exception, that the duke's were his own,and he could do what he liked with them. This remembrance did notunfrequently present itself to the duke's mind. In person, he was aplain, thin man, tall, but undistinguished in appearance, except thatthere was a gleam of pride in his eye which seemed every moment to besaying, "I am the Duke of Omnium." He was unmarried, and, if reportsaid true, a great debauchee; but if so he had always kept hisdebaucheries decently away from the eyes of the world, and was not,therefore, open to that loud condemnation which should fall like ahailstorm round the ears of some more open sinners.

  Why these two mighty nobles put their heads together in order thatthe tailor's son should represent Barchester in Parliament, I cannotexplain. Mr Moffat, was, as has been said, Lord de Courcy's friend;and it may be that Lord de Courcy was able to repay the duke for hiskindness, as touching Barchester, with some little assistance in thecounty representation.

  The next arrival was that of the Bishop of Barchester; a meek, good,worthy man, much attached to his wife, and somewhat addicted to hisease. She, apparently, was made in a different mould, and by herenergy and diligence atoned for any want in those qualities whichmight be observed in the bishop himself. When asked his opinion, hislordship would generally reply by saying--"Mrs Proudie and I think soand so." But before that opinion was given, Mrs Proudie would takeup the tale, and she, in her more concise manner, was not wont toquote the bishop as having at all assisted in the consideration ofthe subject. It was well known in Barsetshire that no married pairconsorted more closely or more tenderly together; and the example ofsuch conjugal affection among persons in the upper classes is worthmentioning, as it is believed by those below them, and too often withtruth, that the sweet bliss of connubial reciprocity is not so commonas it should be among the magnates of the earth.

  But the arrival even of the bishop and his wife did not make theplace cheerful to Frank Gresham, and he began to long for MissDunstable, in order that he might have something to do. He could notget on at all with Mr Moffat. He had expected that the man would atonce have called him Frank, and that he would have called the manGustavus; but they did not even get beyond Mr Moffat and Mr Gresham."Very hot in Barchester to-day, very," was the nearest approach toconversation which Frank could attain with him; and as far as he,Frank, could see, Augusta never got much beyond it. There might be_tete-a-tete_ meetings between them, but, if so, Frank could notdetect when they took place; and so, opening his heart at last to theHonourable George, for the want of a better confidant, he expressedhis opinion that his future brother-in-law was a muff.

  "A muff--I believe you too. What do you think now? I have been withhim and Nearthewinde in Barchester these three days past, looking upthe electors' wives and daughters, and that kind of thing."

  "I say, if there is any fun in it you might as well take me withyou."

  "Oh, there is not much fun; they are mostly so slobbered and dirty. Asharp fellow in Nearthewinde, and knows what he is about well."

  "Does he look up the wives and daughters too?"

  "Oh, he goes on every tack, just as it's wanted. But there wasMoffat, yesterday, in a room behind the milliner's shop nearCuthbert's Gate
; I was with him. The woman's husband is one of thechoristers and an elector, you know, and Moffat went to look for hisvote. Now, there was no one there when we got there but the threeyoung women, the wife, that is, and her two girls--very pretty womenthey are too."

  "I say, George, I'll go and get the chorister's vote for Moffat; Iought to do it as he's to be my brother-in-law."

  "But what do you think Moffat said to the women?"

  "Can't guess--he didn't kiss any of them, did he?"

  "Kiss any of them? No; but he begged to give them his positiveassurance as a gentleman, that if he was returned to Parliament hewould vote for an extension of the franchise, and the admission ofthe Jews into Parliament."

  "Well, he is a muff!" said Frank.