Vicar of Wrexhill

Frances Trollope

Description

The mother of renowned novelist Anthony Trollope, Frances Trollope was an important literary figure in her own right. She made significant contributions to the then-nascent genre of travel writing, as well as publishing a number of well-researched novels that grapple with complex social issues. The sprawling epic The Vicar of Wrexhall casts a critical eye on the misdeeds of clergymen.

Sujets

• Historical fiction

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 juillet 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781776580118
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE VICAR OF WREXHILL
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FRANCES TROLLOPE
 
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The Vicar of Wrexhill First published in 1837 Epub ISBN 978-1-77658-011-8 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77658-012-5 © 2014 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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VOLUME THE FIRST Chapter I - The Village of Wrexhill—The Mowbray Family—A Birthday Chapter II - The Morning After the Birthday Chapter III - The Vicar of Wrexhill Chapter IV - The Will Chapter V - The Aristocracy of Wrexhill Chapter VI - The Principal Person in the Village—The Vicar's Family Chapter VII - The First Impressions Made by Mr. Cartwright—Letter from LadyHarrington Chapter VIII - Mrs. Richards and Her Daughters—The Tea-Party Chapter IX - Helen and Rosalind Call Upon Sir Gilbert Harrington Chapter X - Mrs. Mowbray Consults Mr. Cartwright Upon the Subject of Her LateHusband's Will Chapter XI - Helen's Misery at Her Mother's Displeasure—Sir G. Harrington's Letteron the Subject of the Will Chapter XII - Mr. Cartwright's Letter to His Cousin—Colonel Harrington Chapter XIII - Mrs. Mowbray's Departure for Town—An Extemporary Prayer Chapter XIV - An Interview—The Lime Tree—Rosalind's Letter to Mr. Mowbray Chapter XV - Rosalind's Conversation with Miss Cartwright—Mrs. Simpson and MissRichards Meet the Vicar at the Park—The Hymn—The Walk Home VOLUME THE SECOND Chapter I - Charles Mowbray's Arrival at the Park Chapter II - Charles's Amusement at His Sister's Appearance—He Discusses Her Casewith Rosalind Chapter III - Charles Walks over to Oakley—The Vicar Improves in His Opinion Chapter IV - Mr. Stephen Corbold Chapter V - Mr. Stephen Corbold Returns with Mrs. Mowbray and Helen to Wrexhill Chapter VI - The Return Chapter VII - The Vicar and His Cousin Chapter VIII - Charles's Sorrow—Mrs. Simpson in Her New Character—The Vicar'sProceedings Discussed Chapter IX - Discussion on Truth—Mr. Corbold Installed Chapter X - Fanny's Religion—A Visit to Oakley Chapter XI - Charles's Conference with Mrs. Mowbray Chapter XII - The Vicar's Progress, and His Counsel to Fanny as to the Best Means ofAssisting the Poor Chapter XIII - Mrs. Simpson's Charitable Visit—Charles's Troubles Continue Chapter XIV - The Entry Chapter XV - Walk to Oakley—Domestic Arrangements—The Village Inn VOLUME THE THIRD Chapter I - Mr. And Mrs. Cartwright's Letter Chapter II - The Widow Simpson's Disappointment Chapter III - Charles's Interview with His Stepfather—His Sudden Departure fromWrexhill Chapter IV - The Vicar's Prosperity—He Sets About Making Some Important Reforms inthe Village Chapter V - The Vicar at Home Chapter VI - A Second Visit to the Lime-Tree Chapter VII - The Will Chapter VIII - The Letter-Bag Chapter IX - The Will Executed Chapter X - The Serious Fancy Fair Chapter XI - The "Elopement" Chapter XII - Mr. Corbold's Adventures Chapter XIII - A Change Comes O'er the Spirit of Her Dream Chapter XIV - In Which Sundry Visits Are Made Chapter XV - Mrs. Cartwright's Last Will and Testament
VOLUME THE FIRST
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Chapter I - The Village of Wrexhill—The Mowbray Family—A Birthday
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The beauties of an English village have been so often dwelt upon, sooften described, that I dare not linger long upon the sketch ofWrexhill, which must of necessity precede my introduction of its vicar.And yet not even England can show many points of greater beauty thanthis oak-sheltered spot can display. Its peculiar style of scenery, halfgarden, half forest in aspect, is familiar to all who are acquaintedwith the New Forest, although it has features entirely its own. One ofthese is an overshot mill, the sparkling fall of which is accurately andmost nobly overarched by a pair of oaks which have long been the gloryof the parish. Another is the grey and mellow beauty of its antiquechurch, itself unencumbered by ivy, while the wall and old stone gatewayof the churchyard look like a line and knot of sober green, enclosing itwith such a rich and unbroken luxuriance of foliage "never sear," asseems to show that it is held sacred, and that no hand profane everventured to rob its venerable mass of a leaf or a berry. Close besidethe church, and elevated by a very gentle ascent, stands the prettyVicarage, as if placed expressly to keep watch and ward over the safetyand repose of its sacred neighbour. The only breach in the ivy-boundfence of the churchyard, is the little wicket gate that opens from theVicarage garden; but even this is arched over by the same immortal andunfading green,—a fitting emblem of that eternity, the hope of whichemanates from the shrine it encircles. At this particular spot, indeed,the growth of the plant is so vigorous, that it is controlled withdifficulty, and has not obeyed the hand which led it over the rusticarch without dropping a straggling wreath or two, which if a vicar ofthe nineteenth century could wear a wig, might leave him in the statecoveted for Absalom by his father. The late Vicar of Wrexhill,however,—I speak of him who died a few weeks before my storybegins,—would never permit these graceful pendants to be shorn,declaring that the attitude they enforced on entering the churchyard wasexactly such as befitted a Christian when passing the threshold of thecourt of God.
Behind the Vicarage, and stretching down the side of the little hill onwhich it stood, so as to form a beautiful background to the church, rosea grove of lofty forest-trees, that seemed to belong to its garden, butwhich in fact was separated from it by the road which led to MowbrayPark, on the outskirts of which noble domain they were situated. Thissame road, having passed behind the church and Vicarage, led to thevillage street of Wrexhill, and thence, towards various other parishes,over a common, studded with oaks and holly-bushes, on one side of which,with shelving grassy banks that gave to the scene the appearance ofnoble pleasure-grounds, was a sheet of water large enough to bedignified by the appellation of Wrexhill Lake. Into this, the littlestream that turned the mill emptied itself, after meandering veryprettily through Mowbray Park, where, by the help of a little artifice,it became wide enough at one spot to deserve a boat and boat-house, andat another to give occasion for the erection of one of the most gracefulpark-bridges in the county of Hampshire.
On one side of the common stands what might be called an alehouse, didnot the exquisite neatness of every feature belonging to the littleestablishment render this vulgar appellation inappropriate. It was intruth just such a place as a town-worn and fastidious invalid might havefixed his eyes upon and said, "How I should like to lodge in that housefor a week or two!" Roses and honeysuckles battled together for space todisplay themselves over the porch, and above the windows. The littleenclosure on each side the post whence swung the "Mowbray Arms"presented to the little bay windows of the mansion such a collection ofodorous plants, without a single weed to rob them of their strength,that no lady in the land, let her flower-garden be what it may, butwould allow that Sally Freeman, the daughter, bar-maid, waiter, gardenerat the "Mowbray Arms," understood how to manage common flowers as wellas any Scotchman in her own scientific establishment.
Industry, neatness, and their fitting accompaniment and reward, comfort,were legible throughout the small domain. John Freeman brewed his ownbeer, double and single; Dorothy, his loving wife, baked her own bread,cured her own bacon, churned her own butter, and poached her own eggs,or roasted her own chicken, when they were called for by any wanderinglover of woodland scenery who was lucky enough to turn his steps towardsWrexhill. The other labours of the household were performed by Sally,except indeed the watering of horses, and the like, for which services astout, decent peasant-boy received a shilling a week, and three goodmeals a day: and happy was the cottager whose son got the appointment,for both in morals and manners the horse-boy at the Mowbray Arms mighthave set an example to his betters.
There are many other pretty spots and many more good people at Wrexhill;but they must show themselves by degrees, as it is high time thebusiness of my story should begin.
The 2nd of May 1833 was a gay day at Wrexhill, for it was that on whichCharles Mowbray came of age, and the fête given on the occasion wasintended to include every human being in the parish, besides about ahundred more, neighbours and friends, who came from a greater distanceto witness and share in the festivities.
A merrier, or in truth a happier set of human beings, than thoseassembled round the breakfast-table at Mowbray Park on the morning ofthat day, could hardly be found anywhere. This important epoch in theyoung heir's life had been long anticipated with gay impatience, andseemed likely to be enjoyed with a fulness of contentment that shouldlaugh to scorn the croaking prophecy which speaks of hopes fulfilled asof something wherein doubtful good is ever blended with certaindisappointment. The Mowbray family had hoped to wake upon a joyousmorning, and they did so: no feeling of anxiety, no touch of disease, noshadow of unkindness to any being who shared with them the breath oflife, came to blight the light-hearted glee which pervaded the wholecircle.
Charles Mowbray senior had hardly passed the prime of life, though aconstitutional tendency to something like corpulency made him look olderthan he really was. Throughout his fifty summers