The Curate of Rigg; a sketch of clerical life, taken behind the scenes. By W. H. H

Introduction

. 0 This is not a Novel, it is a History — a sketch of Real Life. The actors are real ; all of them lived ; most of them live now. But, for obvious reasons, all of the names, both of people and places, are fictitious, and are totally unlike the real ones. The incidents are real, and, to the best of my belief, they are truly narrated, certainly in all essential particulars that are within my absolute knowledge. The only chapter which can be accused of partaking of the character of a novel is that relating the interview between the old and new Curates, where, for certain Introduction. VI reasons, neither the circumstances of that interview, nor the conversation, are recorded in all points exactly as they occurred. In regard to the other conversations, I may say this,— I cannot, of course, vouch for their exact verbal accuracy, yet, to the best of my belief, they convey a faithful and accurate account of the ideas then expressed by the speakers, certainly in all the more important passages ; the conver sations having been fixed in the memory by the strong expressions which I have re produced in narrating them.

Mistakes there may be in these pages, and possibly are. But wilful fabrication tli ere is none, with the above-named excep tions. It has also been my studious care to endeavour to avoid exaggeration. Indeed, lest I should be accused of exaggeration, I have tried to keep within the truth, i.e., to underwrite rather than overwrite the Introduction. VII case. So much so, that, on placing the manuscript in the hands of an old parishioner of Rigg, who was well acquainted with the facts, and asking his opinion of it, he said, — " You have not put the Curate's case nearly strong enough. The persecution he endured was far more severe than any one, unacquainted with it, would gather from the mild account you give of it. You have written, as it were, only in the positive degree ; it occurred in the superlative."

I w7ould warn the reader not to expect much amusement from this book. It is not written to amuse. It is written to draw attention to the trials to which Curates are exposed. And, with this purpose in view, it presents a plain, unvar nished account of Clerical life as, unhappily, it sometimes appears when viewed from behind the scenes. Young men of a religious turn of mind, Introduction. VIII seeking about for a profession, naturally feel drawn towards the Church. A life specially devoted to the service of God has peculiar attractions for them ; it offers them, moreover, pre-eminent opportunities of gratifying their craving for doing good. And, inexperienced in the ways of the world, they frequently imagine that here, their efforts for other's welfare are sure to be greeted with kindness, and will most pro bably be rewarded by advancement.

Iu regard to the work of the Church, they will not be disappointed, for they will find within her folds abundant scope for their energies, a field of blessed labour, co-extensive even with their loftiest aspira tions. But, as to the other matters — the kind of treatment to which they will be exposed, and their chances of promotion — the following pages will give them some enlightenment. CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE I. Rigg, and Its New Curate, - - - 1 II. Interview between the Old and New Curates, 10 III. A Worthy Character, - - - 18 IV. Mr Jenkins, - - - - - 23 V. Clerical Life at Kigg, - - 30 VI. The Crash, - - - - - 39 VII. A Lawsuit, - - - . - 47 VIII. A White Night-capped Finger-Post ! - -55 IX. An Exclamation, and its Consequences, - 59 X. A Deceitful Letter, - - - - 69 XI. Petty Annoyances, - - - - 82 XII.

A Terrible Catastrophe, - - - 88 XIII. Indirect Attacks, - - - 96 XIV. To Marry, or not to Marry ? - 101 XV. Death of Mr Broughton, - 108 XVI. Two Curious Will Cases, - - 116 XVII. "Which is Which ? " - - - - 126 XVIII. Under the Goads, - - Contents. X CHAP. PAGE XIX. A Remarkable Old Gentleman, - - 119 XX. Come and have a Chat, - - - 153 XXI. "The Beginning of the End," - - 159 XXII. Popularity, False and True, - - - 164 XXIII. Remarkable Withdrawals from Church, - 175 XXIV. An Opposition Conventicle, - - - _87 XXV. A Curious Little Adventure, - - 194 XXVI. The Plot thickens, .... 202 XXVII. Dr Lyndhurst, - - - - - 213 XXVIII. The Plot succeeds, .... 220 XXIX. No Remedy, - - - - - 257 XXX. Only a Poor Curate ! - - - - 266 XXXI. Curates — Their Unsatisfactory Position and Prospects, ■ a

Chapter I. Rigg, And Its New Curate

" My heart is strong, my step is fleet, My Father's path I tread." — Mrs Hemans. Early in the afternoon of a bright and crisp February day in the year 1874, a young clergyman was walking briskly along the road leading from the town of Melville to the village of Rigg. He wTas a man of middle height, thin and wiry, and moved with that springy and elastic step which we usually associate with the possession of great energy. In face he was neither handsome nor ugly. Clean cut features of Grecian mould ; thoughtful-look- A ing blue eyes of a kindly expression ; a mouth whose every lineament denoted a man of resolution and firmness ; hair of a light brown colour, and abundant in quantity ; a cleanly-shaven face, with the exception of the upper lip, which carried its natural ap pendage ; such was the outward appearance of him who now measured off mile after mile with undiminished speed and vigour.

As he came to a bridge spanning a small and winding river, he paused, arrested by the inscription on a stone in its centre, where the parishes of Freshfield and Rigg met. He stepped to the side of the bridge, and leaned his arms pensively upon the parapet, and seemed lost iu deep and serious meditation. " Here, then," said he, " I enter my new parish. I wonder what kind of people they are here. But, I daresay, they will turn out to be very much like those I have had to do with in my three former Curacies. Ah ! how happy I have been hitherto ! What kind people I have met Rigg, and Its New Curate. 3 with ! Will these be like them _ I hope so — in fact, I have every reason to think so — for the same principles will guide me here as in my former spheres of work. I shall do my duty without fear or favour.

There will be no toadying to the rich, no neglecting of the poor. I come to spend and be spent for all alike. And may He, in whose name I come, and for whom I work, give me grace so to carry on my work, that I may help to build up His Church by fostering all that is Godlike and noble and true ! " As our pedestrian still lingered by that quiet stream, and gave vent at intervals to these and such like thoughts, little did he think that his labours on behalf of these new parishioners of his were destined to be met by persecution ; little did he think that his self-denying kindness would be rewarded by cruel injury ! He was recalled from his reverie to the realities of the material world by the sharp and weird cry of a moorhen in the reeds at the water side. He roused himself, and started forward on his journey.

That journey was nearly accomplished, for there, some half mile distant, was his future home, and straight before him, on the top of a slight hill, might be discerned the square tower of the Church, rising high above the trees and the roofs of the surrounding cottages. The road by which he entered the parish rose with a gradual ascent from the river for about a quarter of a mile. At that dis tance the traveller reached a large, solitary, square red brick house, which enjoyed the somewhat pretentious title of "The Hall." In former days it was occupied by a country gentleman ; but, shortly after this history opens, a manufacturer of flat-irons came to live here, the father of some twelve children, mostly sons, and as lively a set of young colts as it would be difficult to match any where. This man, Mr Inman, travelled back wards and fowrards every day to Napleton to attend to his business, which, judging from Rigg, and Its New Curate. 5 his expenditure, must have been thriving.

Opposite the house were two large ponds, con taining some poor unfortunate trout, whose penance it was destined to be, through the fishing season, to be hooked and unhooked, caught and turned in again for another day, by the wrould-be sportsmen of the family. After passing this house some little dis tance, the road began to ascend considerably more sharply. Clusters of cottages were dotted about to the right and to the left. On the topmost part of the hill, and to the left, stood the Church, and immediately ad jacent to it the Glebe farmhouse. Passing onward for some yards the village public house, bearing the sign of " The Dragon," stood upon the right, and this was adjoined by an exceedingly pretty and neat-looking cottage, the residence of the former Curate. A short distance beyond this there were four cross roads, one to the left leading down a steep hill to the neighbouring village of Sharland, and one to the right leading to a solitary cottage in the fields, which was destined to be for a time the home of the new Curate.

The main road continued onward, and passed, at some two hundred yards distance, the village school ; and thence, at the distance of some half mile, it intersected a little hamlet, and then pursued its course onward through the village of Telford to the large manufac turing town of Napleton. But not so far as this did he advance whose steps we trace. He paused opposite that little village Church — his Church, as it was destined to be for some years to come. There he stood and contemplated it — an unpreten tious structure of red brick, faced at the corners and round the doors and windows with stone ; chancel, and nave, and tower each in due proportion, but spoilt, not only by the colour of the material of wdiich it was built, but also by reason of there being no kind of architectural embellishment, not even to the extent of a battlement round the tower.

He entered the churchyard gate, and was charmed Rigg, aud Its New Curate. 7 with the view wiiich burst upon him of miles upon miles of the surrounding country. To the east the view extended to the hills at the back of the village of Huddlestone, where the mother Church of the parish was situated, and wiiere Dr Lyndhurst, the Rector of the united parishes of Huddlestone and Rigg, resided, some three miles away. At the period at which this history opens, the Rector was not a Dr ; but as he had the title of " Doctor of Science " conferred upon him somewhat later, it will be used from the first as a matter of convenience. To the south the land sunk gently down into a valley of considerable breadth, bounded on the opposite side by rising ground and woods, and intersected at its lowest depth by a river barely visible here and there, as it wound and turned in its tortuous course through the well-timbered meadows.

The Glebe farm and other buildings shut off the view to the west and north, and afforded a slight shelter to 7 O this otherwise exposed resting-place of the dead. The north door of the Church stood open, as though to invite the entrance of its future Curate-in-charge. He passed in, and there discovered another clergyman hard at work pulling down some very tasteful and elaborate Christmas decorations. This man was tall, dark, and handsome, and in the prime of life. To him the newcomer ad vanced, and, returning the grasp of the other's extended hand, said, — " My name is Palgrave, and I believe I have the pleasure of addressing Mr Calthorpe, my predecessor in the Cure of this parish _ " " Yes, that is so," replied the other, " and I am very glad to welcome you. It will afford me very great pleasure indeed to resign my Cure into your hands."

" I suppose you want to get away to your own new sphere of work ? " " No, and yes," answered Mr Calthorpe. " But come up to my cottage some day and have a chat, and I will tell you about it. Have you walked all the way from Eder sham ? " Rigg, and Its New Curate. 9 ' Yes. It was such a charming day, that I thought I would walk, and hire a cart to bring my belongings, and as I daresay it has reached my lodgings before now, I must hurry on and get my things stowed away. But I saw the church door open, and could not resist the temptation to come in. So good bye for the present." And with these words he resumed his walk, and passed up the village, and down the lane, to his lodgings in the fields, where he was welcomed by Mrs Abdy, his landlady, the middle-aged, and neat and frugal wife of a labourer on an adjacent farm.

Chapter II. Interview Between The Old And New Curates

;i And every shepherd tells his tale." — Milton. Our Curate spent the following day or two in putting his things in order, and in making those domestic arrangements so necessary in a new home. A few days later he wended his wTay to that pretty little cottage by the Dragon, to listen to the promised communica tion of his predecessor. He opened the little iron gate leading into the garden. That garden was now comparatively bare and un interesting, bound, as it was, in the hard em brace of a mid-winter's frost. But in the summer it was usually a perfect little paradise. Choice flowers and plants then met the eye on every side ; not dotted about without system, nor planted in stiff rows as one sometimes sees them, but grouped artistically, masses of colour relieved by colours of another kind, and each borrowing from the other that con trast which enhanced its own intrinsic beauty.

Mr Palgrave went up to the door and knocked. The summons was immediately answered by a charming little woman, in whose face good nature, and truth, and kindliness shone forth luminously. Mr Calthorpe was a bachelor, like his visitor, and, prudent man as he was, had selected a married housekeeper, so that husband and wife lived here, and performed the household duties. Mrs Grant conducted the visitor to a room neatly and tastefully furnished, and bearing marks of wealth. Rare books adorned a well-filled case ; choice pic tures hung upon the walls ; articles of virtu lay scattered on side tables and shelves ; and some photographic apparatus stood in one corner of the room. The owner was discovered busily engaged trimming photographic views, and making them ready for mounting. Rising from his seat, he said, — The Citrate of Rigg. 12 ' Welcome to my little home."

" Thank you very much," replied his visitor. " I see you do a little photography." " Yes. I amuse myself with photography and gardening. One must do something in the country. In a parish like this, of three hundred people, one has plenty of leisure, and cannot always be reading. These photographs are my own wrork. This is a view I took the other day when the snow was on the ground. It was not a great success, but still it will act as a reminder. That is my poor old horse, that I have driven many a mile. This is the interior of the Church with decorations up, similar to those you saw me clearing out the other day." Pushing the photographs from him, and drawing his chair nearer to that of his visitor, he continued, — " That reminds me that you asked me if I was anxious to get awTay to another sphere of work, and I answered 'No, and yes.' You will see my meaning when I have explained to you my position.

I may as well tell you at once that I am not dependent upon my professional income. My father has recently died, and left me comfortably well off. Some years ago he purchased for me the next presentation to the living of Kingsmill. The present holder of it is a man of some eighty years. He is a very nice old man, and I shall be really sorry, in a certain sense, when he dies. He shows no signs of it at present, however. Indeed, he often cracks a joke at my expense upon the subject. The very last time I was there, we were sitting talking about different matters connected with the parish, when up he jumped, exclaiming, ' Look at this,' and then, having walked rapidly up and down the room, he stopped, and, with a merry twinkle in his eye, said, ' That is not so bad, is it ? The old man is not dead yet, you see.' And so it is almost every time I see him.

He treats my waiting for the living as a fine joke, and makes all sorts of funny remarks about it, as though he deeply sympathised with me in The Cin-ate of Rigg. 14 being kept out of it so long. However, at his age, it must become vacant before any areas length of time has passed, and then, of course, I shall take possession. Meanwhile, I intend to reside here without a Cure. The place is remarkably healthy, and suits me ; and, besides that, I have some very kind and good neighbours living in the surrounding villages, so that I feel at home here. As to this parish itself, it's rather a peculiar one. It labours under the great misfortune of having no resident gentleman — no one who can take the position of a Squire. A still greater misfor tune is, that we have one man here who, although he is of no social position, and takes great liberties with the letter H, yet puts on great airs, and wants everybody to toady to and make much of him, just because he has had some money left him.

It's a peculiar parish. I've had a lot of cold water poured down my back one way and another since I have been here ; and, taking all things into consideration, I determined to resign." The new Curate gave a little grunt of in dignation, and said, — " You don't draw a very encouraging picture, certainly. Who is this man ? " " His name is Jenkins. He is one of the churchwardens. But don't ask me any ques tions about him, as I would rather not answer them. You will know quite enough about him before you have been here very long." " And the Rector ; what kind of a man is he ? " asked Mr Palgrave. " Oh, he is a mathematician. He was one of the masters at — ■" " Yes, I know," exclaimed Mr Palgrave, interrupting him. " But what kind of a dispositioned man is he ? " " Well, I would advise you not to expect too much from him, for you will find him a broken reed to rest upon.

But you will not see much of him unless you wish to do so, for he hardly ever comes into the parish." " Oh, I suppose he is so busy in his own parish." The Curate of Rigg. Mr Calthorpe, smiled, shook his head, and said, — " I am afraid I am discouraging you. Lest I should do so, I will turn to the other side of the picture. When you go up into the little hamlet, you will see a large black - nd-white house. Some people of the name of Broughton are just coining to live there. I think they will be an acquisition to the parish. They are said to be good Church people, well-off and liberal, always ready to help in any good cause. There are a few very nice people in the parish, both among the farmers and labourers. There are the Woodwards at the Glebe Farm. Mrs Wood ward is a particularly nice little woman ; she plays the Church harmonium.

Her husband is Rector's churchwarden. He lived for some years in America in his younger days, and is a very blunt kind of man, but very well meaning and straightforward. He always ' calls a spade a spade,' whether it pleases or offends. Both he and his wife are very I 7 kind, good-hearted people. And then there are- " Thus he went on, and gave a brief descrip tion of some of the inhabitants of Rigg, imparting to his younger brother of the cloth the results of his six years' experience of them. B

Chapter III

A -WORTHY CHARACTER. " Deeds, not words, Shall speak me." — Beaumont and Fletcher. Upon the occasion of his next walk into the village, Mr Palgrave, being anxious to make the acquaintance of the organist, and learn something about the choir, called upon Mrs Woodward at the Glebe Farm. This lady wTas in the prime of life, good-looking, intel ligent and bright. Having chatted for a time about choir matters, Mrs Woodward, looking through the window, said, — " Ah, I see my husband has just come home, and has gone into the stables. I'll go and send him in, as I know he would like to see you." A few moments later there entered a well proportioned man, somewhat above the middle A Worthy Character. 19 height, and with that shrewd cast of countenance which those who have lived long among our American cousins so frequently, yet so mysteriously, acquire.

" How d'ye do, sir _ " said he ; " and so you are our new Curate ? " " Yes ; and I believe I have the pleasure of making the acquaintance of Mr Woodward," replied the Curate. " I guess you are about right then, sir, except as to the pleasure ; that's as it may turn out. But I hope you won't regret knowing me — most people don't — and I hope you'll turn out to be as good a man as Mr Calthorpe, and then I sha'n't regret knowing you. " Ah," exclaimed Mr Palgrave, " I am very glad to hear you speak of my prede cessor in that kind way." " Well, you see, sir, I make it a point of speaking of a man as I find him, and Mr Calthorpe is a rattling good fellow, and that's more than I'd say for a good many." " Yes, unfortunately there are some almost everywhere who are not good fellows." " You're about right there," answered Mr Woodward.

" But 'tisn't every parish that's got such a darned customer as one we've got here. I guess you don't know him yet, but you soon will. His name is Jenkins, and, though he is a churchwarden, he's a queer lot, he is." " Is he such a very rough kind of man ? asked the Curate. " Rough ! not he ! No, sir, he's smooth, too smooth, a good deal, for my taste. He's soapy, sir ; so soapy that you almost expect to see the lather bubbling up in his mouth when he talks to you. But words are wind ; actions are the things that show what a man is. He talks to you so nicely that you almost begin to think either he or you must be an angel, and yet, at the very time, he may be planning to in jure you. If it would answer his purpose to do you a dirty trick, he'd do it." A Worthy Character. 21 " Oh, I hope he is not as bad as that ! said the Curate.

" Ah, but he is though," replied Mr Wood ward, " and I guess you'll find it out before long. He's a darned, cunning, underhand customer, and gulls nearly everybody at first, but they mostly find him out in the long run." " I am afraid," suggested the Curate, " you are not very good friends." " Oh, yes, we are, in a way," Mr Wood ward answered. " We get along together fairly well, for I know him, and he knows it, so he's very cautious with me. If we did fall out, 'twould be a smasher, for he's one of those people who never forgive. Once tumble out with him, and it's all up." At this point Mrs Woodward re-entered the room, and, after a little unimportant con versation, her husband said, — " Well, I suppose I must be off shep herding. The days are short now, and I've got some distance to go. But come in whenever you like, sir ; you'll always find us glad to see you."

And with that this outspoken yet worthy man took his departure, and Mr Palgrave, shortly after wards, hurried home to write his letters for the six o'clock post.

Chapter IV. Mr Jenkins

' I can smile, and murder* while I smile, And cry ' content ' to that which grieves my heart ; And wet my cheeks with artificial tears ; And frame my face to all occasions." — Henry VI. Some days after the interview recorded in the last chapter, our Curate — not a little curious to see the man about whom he had heard so much, and that, too, so entirely to his disparagement, — in the course of his house to-house visitation, called upon Mr Jenkins. The house where this man lived was situated some two hundred yards beyond the school. Originally, a very humble kind of dwelling had stood there, but the place had now gone * I need scarcely say that, if you take the word " murder " in the sense of " feeling and acting with deadly hatred," you have the only meaning with which I quote it. up in the world.

After sundry pullings down and rebuilding, there was presented to the beholder a comfortable modern farmhouse, and this had now begun to undergo sundry further improvements and additions, as though trying hard to put in an appearance of a more pretentious character. Barns gave place to greenhouses, pigsties to stables. In fact, the place had gone through, and was still going through, very much the same grades as those through which its present owner passed. He had been, in his younger days, a kind of farm-bailiff; at the period of the opening of this tale, he had risen to the position of a farmer ; and, shortly after this, by means of such occasional accessories as a velvet coat, a white pocket handkerchief largely visible from the breast-pocket, and patent leather boots, he began to affect — what he conceived to be — the airs of a gentleman.

Admitted through a well-varnished door, and passing through a passage well painted and papered, the Curate was conducted into Mr ycnkins. 25 a room furnished with a strange mixture of old and new furniture. Seated in a chair reading the newspaper was a man somewhat above the middle age. A big-boned, puffy faced man was he, with a remarkably bland looking cast of countenance, and with a sad deformity of the right hand, with which he had unfortunately been born. Rising as his visitor entered, Mr Jenkins advanced, and offered him his left hand in an exceedingly gushing manner, and addressed him in that peculiarly oily, smooth, and slightly nasal tainted tone of voice which is so frequently united with an exceptionally artful and dis simulating nature. The voice of this man was indeed one of his most distinguishing characteristics.

It was not always equally oily — there were degrees and variations in it, the mollifying ingredient being added in large or small quantities, according as circumstances seemed to require. On rare occasions the oil would seem to be altogether forgotten, as wdien passion, overpowering the subtle and more deliberate artfulness with which he usually framed his conversation, compelled him to send forth a truer representation of his mind. But usually he had his voice under complete control, and mollified it with carefully-cal culated nicety. If there was nothing to be gained — no one whom he cared specially to captivate — the oil would only be laid on lightly ; but if the stakes were large, or if Mr Jenkins wished to be particularly " kill ing," it would seem to well-up within him, and impart to his voice a peculiar persua siveness of tone somewhat resembling the purring of that coaxing, yet spiteful and claw-using animal, the domestic cat.

On this occasion the claws were carefully kept hidden within their velvety covering ; there was nothing apparent of the feline nature of the man, except the purring of his voice as he exclaimed, " 'Ow glad I am to see you, sir ! I hope I see you well ? " And then, after the usual commonplace Mr fcnkins. 27 remarks, he said, " Come and see my house, sir." And he conducted his visitor over the house, telling him wrhat improvements he thought of making, and how much money he gave for this and that article of furniture. Mr Jenkins was evidently very anxious to make a favourable impression upon the Curate, and the effort seemed to cause him to be even more than usually uncertain in the use of his h's ; for by-and-by he asked, "Are you fond of shooting and hangling ? " Mr Palgrave answered, " I used to shoot when I was at home, before I took Holy Orders, but have not done so now for some years ; but I fish a little occasionally."