Middlemarch

by George Eliot

  CHAPTER XXXV.

  "Non, je ne comprends pas de plus charmant plaisir Que de voir d'heritiers une troupe affligee Le maintien interdit, et la mine allongee, Lire un long testament ou pales, etonnes On leur laisse un bonsoir avec un pied de nez. Pour voir au naturel leur tristesse profonde Je reviendrais, je crois, expres de l'autre monde." --REGNARD: Le Legataire Universel.

  When the animals entered the Ark in pairs, one may imagine that alliedspecies made much private remark on each other, and were tempted tothink that so many forms feeding on the same store of fodder wereeminently superfluous, as tending to diminish the rations. (I fear thepart played by the vultures on that occasion would be too painful forart to represent, those birds being disadvantageously naked about thegullet, and apparently without rites and ceremonies.)

  The same sort of temptation befell the Christian Carnivora who formedPeter Featherstone's funeral procession; most of them having theirminds bent on a limited store which each would have liked to get themost of. The long-recognized blood-relations and connections bymarriage made already a goodly number, which, multiplied bypossibilities, presented a fine range for jealous conjecture andpathetic hopefulness. Jealousy of the Vincys had created a fellowshipin hostility among all persons of the Featherstone blood, so that inthe absence of any decided indication that one of themselves was tohave more than the rest, the dread lest that long-legged Fred Vincyshould have the land was necessarily dominant, though it left abundantfeeling and leisure for vaguer jealousies, such as were entertainedtowards Mary Garth. Solomon found time to reflect that Jonah wasundeserving, and Jonah to abuse Solomon as greedy; Jane, the eldersister, held that Martha's children ought not to expect so much as theyoung Waules; and Martha, more lax on the subject of primogeniture, wassorry to think that Jane was so "having." These nearest of kin werenaturally impressed with the unreasonableness of expectations incousins and second cousins, and used their arithmetic in reckoning thelarge sums that small legacies might mount to, if there were too manyof them. Two cousins were present to hear the will, and a secondcousin besides Mr. Trumbull. This second cousin was a Middlemarchmercer of polite manners and superfluous aspirates. The two cousinswere elderly men from Brassing, one of them conscious of claims on thescore of inconvenient expense sustained by him in presents of oystersand other eatables to his rich cousin Peter; the other entirelysaturnine, leaning his hands and chin on a stick, and conscious ofclaims based on no narrow performance but on merit generally: bothblameless citizens of Brassing, who wished that Jonah Featherstone didnot live there. The wit of a family is usually best received amongstrangers.

  "Why, Trumbull himself is pretty sure of five hundred--_that_ you maydepend,--I shouldn't wonder if my brother promised him," said Solomon,musing aloud with his sisters, the evening before the funeral.

  "Dear, dear!" said poor sister Martha, whose imagination of hundredshad been habitually narrowed to the amount of her unpaid rent.

  But in the morning all the ordinary currents of conjecture weredisturbed by the presence of a strange mourner who had plashed amongthem as if from the moon. This was the stranger described by Mrs.Cadwallader as frog-faced: a man perhaps about two or three and thirty,whose prominent eyes, thin-lipped, downward-curved mouth, and hairsleekly brushed away from a forehead that sank suddenly above the ridgeof the eyebrows, certainly gave his face a batrachian unchangeablenessof expression. Here, clearly, was a new legatee; else why was hebidden as a mourner? Here were new possibilities, raising a newuncertainty, which almost checked remark in the mourning-coaches. Weare all humiliated by the sudden discovery of a fact which has existedvery comfortably and perhaps been staring at us in private while wehave been making up our world entirely without it. No one had seenthis questionable stranger before except Mary Garth, and she knewnothing more of him than that he had twice been to Stone Court when Mr.Featherstone was down-stairs, and had sat alone with him for severalhours. She had found an opportunity of mentioning this to her father,and perhaps Caleb's were the only eyes, except the lawyer's, whichexamined the stranger with more of inquiry than of disgust orsuspicion. Caleb Garth, having little expectation and less cupidity,was interested in the verification of his own guesses, and the calmnesswith which he half smilingly rubbed his chin and shot intelligentglances much as if he were valuing a tree, made a fine contrast withthe alarm or scorn visible in other faces when the unknown mourner,whose name was understood to be Rigg, entered the wainscoted parlor andtook his seat near the door to make part of the audience when the willshould be read. Just then Mr. Solomon and Mr. Jonah were goneup-stairs with the lawyer to search for the will; and Mrs. Waule,seeing two vacant seats between herself and Mr. Borthrop Trumbull, hadthe spirit to move next to that great authority, who was handling hiswatch-seals and trimming his outlines with a determination not to showanything so compromising to a man of ability as wonder or surprise.

  "I suppose you know everything about what my poor brother's done, Mr.Trumbull," said Mrs. Waule, in the lowest of her woolly tones, whileshe turned her crape-shadowed bonnet towards Mr. Trumbull's ear.

  "My good lady, whatever was told me was told in confidence," said theauctioneer, putting his hand up to screen that secret.

  "Them who've made sure of their good-luck may be disappointed yet,"Mrs. Waule continued, finding some relief in this communication.

  "Hopes are often delusive," said Mr. Trumbull, still in confidence.

  "Ah!" said Mrs. Waule, looking across at the Vincys, and then movingback to the side of her sister Martha.

  "It's wonderful how close poor Peter was," she said, in the sameundertones. "We none of us know what he might have had on his mind. Ionly hope and trust he wasn't a worse liver than we think of, Martha."

  Poor Mrs. Cranch was bulky, and, breathing asthmatically, had theadditional motive for making her remarks unexceptionable and givingthem a general bearing, that even her whispers were loud and liable tosudden bursts like those of a deranged barrel-organ.

  "I never _was_ covetous, Jane," she replied; "but I have six childrenand have buried three, and I didn't marry into money. The eldest, thatsits there, is but nineteen--so I leave you to guess. And stock alwaysshort, and land most awkward. But if ever I've begged and prayed; it'sbeen to God above; though where there's one brother a bachelor and theother childless after twice marrying--anybody might think!"

  Meanwhile, Mr. Vincy had glanced at the passive face of Mr. Rigg, andhad taken out his snuff-box and tapped it, but had put it againunopened as an indulgence which, however clarifying to the judgment,was unsuited to the occasion. "I shouldn't wonder if Featherstone hadbetter feelings than any of us gave him credit for," he observed, inthe ear of his wife. "This funeral shows a thought about everybody: itlooks well when a man wants to be followed by his friends, and if theyare humble, not to be ashamed of them. I should be all the betterpleased if he'd left lots of small legacies. They may be uncommonlyuseful to fellows in a small way."

  "Everything is as handsome as could be, crape and silk and everything,"said Mrs. Vincy, contentedly.

  But I am sorry to say that Fred was under some difficulty in repressinga laugh, which would have been more unsuitable than his father'ssnuff-box. Fred had overheard Mr. Jonah suggesting something about a"love-child," and with this thought in his mind, the stranger's face,which happened to be opposite him, affected him too ludicrously. MaryGarth, discerning his distress in the twitchings of his mouth, and hisrecourse to a cough, came cleverly to his rescue by asking him tochange seats with her, so that he got into a shadowy corner. Fred wasfeeling as good-naturedly as possible towards everybody, includingRigg; and having some relenting towards all these people who were lesslucky than he was aware of being himself, he would not for the worldhave behaved amiss; still, it was particularly easy to laugh.

  But the entrance of the lawyer and the two brothers drew every one'sattention. The lawyer was Mr. Standish, and he had come to Stone Courtthis morning believing t
hat he knew thoroughly well who would bepleased and who disappointed before the day was over. The will heexpected to read was the last of three which he had drawn up for Mr.Featherstone. Mr. Standish was not a man who varied his manners: hebehaved with the same deep-voiced, off-hand civility to everybody, asif he saw no difference in them, and talked chiefly of the hay-crop,which would be "very fine, by God!" of the last bulletins concerningthe King, and of the Duke of Clarence, who was a sailor every inch ofhim, and just the man to rule over an island like Britain.

  Old Featherstone had often reflected as he sat looking at the fire thatStandish would be surprised some day: it is true that if he had done ashe liked at the last, and burnt the will drawn up by another lawyer, hewould not have secured that minor end; still he had had his pleasure inruminating on it. And certainly Mr. Standish was surprised, but not atall sorry; on the contrary, he rather enjoyed the zest of a littlecuriosity in his own mind, which the discovery of a second will addedto the prospective amazement on the part of the Featherstone family.

  As to the sentiments of Solomon and Jonah, they were held in uttersuspense: it seemed to them that the old will would have a certainvalidity, and that there might be such an interlacement of poor Peter'sformer and latter intentions as to create endless "lawing" beforeanybody came by their own--an inconvenience which would have at leastthe advantage of going all round. Hence the brothers showed athoroughly neutral gravity as they re-entered with Mr. Standish; butSolomon took out his white handkerchief again with a sense that in anycase there would be affecting passages, and crying at funerals, howeverdry, was customarily served up in lawn.

  Perhaps the person who felt the most throbbing excitement at thismoment was Mary Garth, in the consciousness that it was she who hadvirtually determined the production of this second will, which mighthave momentous effects on the lot of some persons present. No soulexcept herself knew what had passed on that final night.

  "The will I hold in my hand," said Mr. Standish, who, seated at thetable in the middle of the room, took his time about everything,including the coughs with which he showed a disposition to clear hisvoice, "was drawn up by myself and executed by our deceased friend onthe 9th of August, 1825. But I find that there is a subsequentinstrument hitherto unknown to me, bearing date the 20th of July, 1826,hardly a year later than the previous one. And there is farther, Isee"--Mr. Standish was cautiously travelling over the document with hisspectacles--"a codicil to this latter will, bearing date March 1, 1828."

  "Dear, dear!" said sister Martha, not meaning to be audible, but drivento some articulation under this pressure of dates.

  "I shall begin by reading the earlier will," continued Mr. Standish,"since such, as appears by his not having destroyed the document, wasthe intention of deceased."

  The preamble was felt to be rather long, and several besides Solomonshook their heads pathetically, looking on the ground: all eyes avoidedmeeting other eyes, and were chiefly fixed either on the spots in thetable-cloth or on Mr. Standish's bald head; excepting Mary Garth's.When all the rest were trying to look nowhere in particular, it wassafe for her to look at them. And at the sound of the first "give andbequeath" she could see all complexions changing subtly, as if somefaint vibration were passing through them, save that of Mr. Rigg. Hesat in unaltered calm, and, in fact, the company, preoccupied with moreimportant problems, and with the complication of listening to bequestswhich might or might not be revoked, had ceased to think of him. Fredblushed, and Mr. Vincy found it impossible to do without his snuff-boxin his hand, though he kept it closed.

  The small bequests came first, and even the recollection that there wasanother will and that poor Peter might have thought better of it, couldnot quell the rising disgust and indignation. One likes to be donewell by in every tense, past, present, and future. And here was Petercapable five years ago of leaving only two hundred apiece to his ownbrothers and sisters, and only a hundred apiece to his own nephews andnieces: the Garths were not mentioned, but Mrs. Vincy and Rosamond wereeach to have a hundred. Mr. Trumbull was to have the gold-headed caneand fifty pounds; the other second cousins and the cousins present wereeach to have the like handsome sum, which, as the saturnine cousinobserved, was a sort of legacy that left a man nowhere; and there wasmuch more of such offensive dribbling in favor of persons notpresent--problematical, and, it was to be feared, low connections.Altogether, reckoning hastily, here were about three thousand disposed of.Where then had Peter meant the rest of the money to go--and where theland? and what was revoked and what not revoked--and was the revocationfor better or for worse? All emotion must be conditional, and might turnout to be the wrong thing. The men were strong enough to bear up andkeep quiet under this confused suspense; some letting their lower lipfall, others pursing it up, according to the habit of their muscles.But Jane and Martha sank under the rush of questions, and began to cry;poor Mrs. Cranch being half moved with the consolation of getting anyhundreds at all without working for them, and half aware that her sharewas scanty; whereas Mrs. Waule's mind was entirely flooded with thesense of being an own sister and getting little, while somebody elsewas to have much. The general expectation now was that the "much"would fall to Fred Vincy, but the Vincys themselves were surprised whenten thousand pounds in specified investments were declared to bebequeathed to him:--was the land coming too? Fred bit his lips: it wasdifficult to help smiling, and Mrs. Vincy felt herself the happiest ofwomen--possible revocation shrinking out of sight in this dazzlingvision.

  There was still a residue of personal property as well as the land, butthe whole was left to one person, and that person was--Opossibilities! O expectations founded on the favor of "close" oldgentlemen! O endless vocatives that would still leave expressionslipping helpless from the measurement of mortal folly!--thatresiduary legatee was Joshua Rigg, who was also sole executor, and whowas to take thenceforth the name of Featherstone.

  There was a rustling which seemed like a shudder running round theroom. Every one stared afresh at Mr. Rigg, who apparently experiencedno surprise.

  "A most singular testamentary disposition!" exclaimed Mr. Trumbull,preferring for once that he should be considered ignorant in the past."But there is a second will--there is a further document. We have notyet heard the final wishes of the deceased."

  Mary Garth was feeling that what they had yet to hear were not thefinal wishes. The second will revoked everything except the legaciesto the low persons before mentioned (some alterations in these beingthe occasion of the codicil), and the bequest of all the land lying inLowick parish with all the stock and household furniture, to JoshuaRigg. The residue of the property was to be devoted to the erectionand endowment of almshouses for old men, to be called Featherstone'sAlms-Houses, and to be built on a piece of land near Middlemarchalready bought for the purpose by the testator, he wishing--so thedocument declared--to please God Almighty. Nobody present had afarthing; but Mr. Trumbull had the gold-headed cane. It took some timefor the company to recover the power of expression. Mary dared notlook at Fred.

  Mr. Vincy was the first to speak--after using his snuff-boxenergetically--and he spoke with loud indignation. "The mostunaccountable will I ever heard! I should say he was not in his rightmind when he made it. I should say this last will was void," added Mr.Vincy, feeling that this expression put the thing in the true light."Eh Standish?"

  "Our deceased friend always knew what he was about, I think," said Mr.Standish. "Everything is quite regular. Here is a letter fromClemmens of Brassing tied with the will. He drew it up. A veryrespectable solicitor."

  "I never noticed any alienation of mind--any aberration of intellect inthe late Mr. Featherstone," said Borthrop Trumbull, "but I call thiswill eccentric. I was always willingly of service to the old soul; andhe intimated pretty plainly a sense of obligation which would showitself in his will. The gold-headed cane is farcical considered as anacknowledgment to me; but happily I am above mercenary considerations."

  "There's nothing very surprisin
g in the matter that I can see," saidCaleb Garth. "Anybody might have had more reason for wondering if thewill had been what you might expect from an open-minded straightforwardman. For my part, I wish there was no such thing as a will."

  "That's a strange sentiment to come from a Christian man, by God!" saidthe lawyer. "I should like to know how you will back that up, Garth!"

  "Oh," said Caleb, leaning forward, adjusting his finger-tips withnicety and looking meditatively on the ground. It always seemed to himthat words were the hardest part of "business."

  But here Mr. Jonah Featherstone made himself heard. "Well, he alwayswas a fine hypocrite, was my brother Peter. But this will cuts outeverything. If I'd known, a wagon and six horses shouldn't have drawnme from Brassing. I'll put a white hat and drab coat on to-morrow."

  "Dear, dear," wept Mrs. Cranch, "and we've been at the expense oftravelling, and that poor lad sitting idle here so long! It's thefirst time I ever heard my brother Peter was so wishful to please GodAlmighty; but if I was to be struck helpless I must say it's hard--Ican think no other."

  "It'll do him no good where he's gone, that's my belief," said Solomon,with a bitterness which was remarkably genuine, though his tone couldnot help being sly. "Peter was a bad liver, and almshouses won't coverit, when he's had the impudence to show it at the last."

  "And all the while had got his own lawful family--brothers and sistersand nephews and nieces--and has sat in church with 'em whenever hethought well to come," said Mrs. Waule. "And might have left hisproperty so respectable, to them that's never been used to extravaganceor unsteadiness in no manner of way--and not so poor but what theycould have saved every penny and made more of it. And me--the troubleI've been at, times and times, to come here and be sisterly--and himwith things on his mind all the while that might make anybody's fleshcreep. But if the Almighty's allowed it, he means to punish him forit. Brother Solomon, I shall be going, if you'll drive me."

  "I've no desire to put my foot on the premises again," said Solomon."I've got land of my own and property of my own to will away."

  "It's a poor tale how luck goes in the world," said Jonah. "It neveranswers to have a bit of spirit in you. You'd better be a dog in themanger. But those above ground might learn a lesson. One fool's willis enough in a family."

  "There's more ways than one of being a fool," said Solomon. "I shan'tleave my money to be poured down the sink, and I shan't leave it tofoundlings from Africay. I like Featherstones that were brewed such,and not turned Featherstones with sticking the name on 'em."

  Solomon addressed these remarks in a loud aside to Mrs. Waule as herose to accompany her. Brother Jonah felt himself capable of much morestinging wit than this, but he reflected that there was no use inoffending the new proprietor of Stone Court, until you were certainthat he was quite without intentions of hospitality towards witty menwhose name he was about to bear.

  Mr. Joshua Rigg, in fact, appeared to trouble himself little about anyinnuendoes, but showed a notable change of manner, walking coolly up toMr. Standish and putting business questions with much coolness. He hada high chirping voice and a vile accent. Fred, whom he no longer movedto laughter, thought him the lowest monster he had ever seen. But Fredwas feeling rather sick. The Middlemarch mercer waited for anopportunity of engaging Mr. Rigg in conversation: there was no knowinghow many pairs of legs the new proprietor might require hose for, andprofits were more to be relied on than legacies. Also, the mercer, asa second cousin, was dispassionate enough to feel curiosity.

  Mr. Vincy, after his one outburst, had remained proudly silent, thoughtoo much preoccupied with unpleasant feelings to think of moving, tillhe observed that his wife had gone to Fred's side and was cryingsilently while she held her darling's hand. He rose immediately, andturning his back on the company while he said to her in anundertone,--"Don't give way, Lucy; don't make a fool of yourself, mydear, before these people," he added in his usual loud voice--"Go andorder the phaeton, Fred; I have no time to waste."

  Mary Garth had before this been getting ready to go home with herfather. She met Fred in the hall, and now for the first time had thecourage to look at him. He had that withered sort of paleness whichwill sometimes come on young faces, and his hand was very cold when sheshook it. Mary too was agitated; she was conscious that fatally,without will of her own, she had perhaps made a great difference toFred's lot.

  "Good-by," she said, with affectionate sadness. "Be brave, Fred. I dobelieve you are better without the money. What was the good of it toMr. Featherstone?"

  "That's all very fine," said Fred, pettishly. "What is a fellow to do?I must go into the Church now." (He knew that this would vex Mary:very well; then she must tell him what else he could do.) "And Ithought I should be able to pay your father at once and make everythingright. And you have not even a hundred pounds left you. What shallyou do now, Mary?"

  "Take another situation, of course, as soon as I can get one. Myfather has enough to do to keep the rest, without me. Good-by."

  In a very short time Stone Court was cleared of well-brewedFeatherstones and other long-accustomed visitors. Another stranger hadbeen brought to settle in the neighborhood of Middlemarch, but in thecase of Mr. Rigg Featherstone there was more discontent with immediatevisible consequences than speculation as to the effect which hispresence might have in the future. No soul was prophetic enough tohave any foreboding as to what might appear on the trial of Joshua Rigg.

  And here I am naturally led to reflect on the means of elevating a lowsubject. Historical parallels are remarkably efficient in this way.The chief objection to them is, that the diligent narrator may lackspace, or (what is often the same thing) may not be able to think ofthem with any degree of particularity, though he may have aphilosophical confidence that if known they would be illustrative. Itseems an easier and shorter way to dignity, to observe that--sincethere never was a true story which could not be told in parables, whereyou might put a monkey for a margrave, and vice versa--whatever hasbeen or is to be narrated by me about low people, may be ennobled bybeing considered a parable; so that if any bad habits and uglyconsequences are brought into view, the reader may have the relief ofregarding them as not more than figuratively ungenteel, and may feelhimself virtually in company with persons of some style. Thus while Itell the truth about loobies, my reader's imagination need not beentirely excluded from an occupation with lords; and the petty sumswhich any bankrupt of high standing would be sorry to retire upon, maybe lifted to the level of high commercial transactions by theinexpensive addition of proportional ciphers.

  As to any provincial history in which the agents are all of high moralrank, that must be of a date long posterior to the first Reform Bill,and Peter Featherstone, you perceive, was dead and buried some monthsbefore Lord Grey came into office.