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THE THREE CLERKS

ANTHONY TROLLOPE

Born London April 24 1815
Died London December 6 1882

INTRODUCTION

There is the proper mood and the just environment for the reading
as well as for the writing of works of fiction and there can be
no better place for the enjoying of a novel by Anthony Trollope
than under a tree in Kensington Gardens of a summer day. Under a
tree in the avenue that reaches down from the Round Pond to the
Long Water. There perhaps more than anywhere else lingers the
early Victorian atmosphere. As we sit beneath our tree we see in
the distance the dun red-brick walls of Kensington Palace where
one night Princess Victoria was awakened to hear that she was
Queen; there in quaint hideously ugly Victorian rooms are to be
seen Victorian dolls and other playthings; the whole environment
is early Victorian. Here to the mind's eye how easy it is to
conjure up ghosts of men in baggy trousers and long flowing
whiskers of prim women in crinolines in hats with long trailing
feathers and with ridiculous little parasols or with Grecian-
bends and chignons--church-parading to and fro beneath the trees
or by the water's edge--perchance even the fascinating Lady
Crinoline and the elegant Mr. Macassar Jones whose history has
been written by Clerk Charley in the pages we are introducing to
the 'gentle reader'. As a poetaster of an earlier date has
written:--

Where Kensington high o'er the neighbouring lands
'Midst green and sweets a royal fabric stands
And sees each spring luxuriant in her bowers
A snow of blossoms and a wild of flowers
The dames of Britain oft in crowds repair
To gravel walks and unpolluted air.
Here while the town in damps and darkness lies
They breathe in sunshine and see azure skies;
Each walk with robes of various dyes bespread
Seems from afar a moving tulip bed
Where rich brocades and glossy damasks glow
And chintz the rival of the showery bow.

Indeed the historian of social manners when dealing with the
Victorian period will perforce have recourse to the early
volumes of Punch and to the novels of Thackeray Dickens and
Trollope.

There are certain authors of whom personally we know little but
of whose works we cannot ever know enough such a one for example
as Shakespeare; others of whose lives we know much but for whose
works we can have but scant affection: such is Doctor Johnson;
others who are intimate friends in all their aspects as
Goldsmith and Charles Lamb; yet others who do not quite come
home to our bosoms whose writings we cannot entirely approve
but for whom and for whose works we find a soft place somewhere
in our hearts and such a one is Anthony Trollope. His novels are
not for every-day reading any more than are those of Marryat and
Borrow--to take two curious examples. There are times and moods
and places in which it would be quite impossible to read _The
Three Clerks_; others in which this story is almost wholly
delightful. With those who are fond of bed-reading Trollope
should ever be a favourite and it is no small compliment to say
this for small is the noble army of authors who have given us
books which can enchant in the witching hour between waking and
slumber. It is probable that all lovers of letters have their
favourite bed-books. Thackeray has charmingly told us of his. Of
the few novels that can really be enjoyed when the reader is
settling down for slumber almost all have been set forth by
writers who--consciously or unconsciously--have placed character
before plot; Thackeray himself Miss Austen Borrow Marryat
Sterne Dickens Goldsmith and--Trollope.

Books are very human in their way as what else should they be
children of men and women as they are? Just as with human friends
so with book friends first impressions are often misleading;
good literary coin sometimes seems to ring untrue but the
untruth is in the ear of the reader not of the writer. For
instance Trollope has many odd and irritating tricks which are
apt to scare off those who lack perseverance and who fail to
understand that there must be something admirable in that which
was once much admired by the judicious. He shares with Thackeray
the sinful habit of pulling up his readers with a wrench by
reminding them that what is set before them is after all mere
fiction and that the characters in whose fates they are becoming
interested are only marionettes. With Dickens and others he
shares the custom so irritating to us of to-day of ticketing
his personages with clumsy descriptive labels such as in
_The Three Clerks_ Mr. Chaffanbrass Sir Gregory Hardlines
Sir Warwick West End Mr. Neverbend Mr. Whip Vigil Mr. Nogo and
Mr. Gitemthruet. He must plead guilty also to some bad ways
peculiarly his own or which he made so by the thoroughness with
which he indulged in them. He moralizes in his own person in
deplorable manner: is not this terrible:--'Poor Katie!--dear
darling bonnie Katie!--sweet sweetest dearest child! why oh
why has that mother of thine that tender-hearted loving mother
put thee unguarded in the way of such perils as this? Has she not
sworn to herself that over thee at least she would watch as a hen
over her young so that no unfortunate love should quench thy
young spirit or blanch thy cheek's bloom?' Is this not
sufficient to make the gentlest reader swear to himself?

Fortunately this and some other appalling passages occur after
the story is in full swing and after the three Clerks and those
with whom they come into contact have proved themselves
thoroughly interesting companions. Despite all his old-fashioned
tricks Trollope does undoubtedly succeed in giving blood and life
to most of his characters; they are not as a rule people of any
great eccentricity or of profound emotions; but ordinary every-
day folk such as all of us have met and loved or endured.
Trollope fills very adequately a space between Thackeray and
Dickens of whom the former deals for the most part with the
upper 'ten' the latter with the lower 'ten'; Trollope with the
suburban and country-town 'ten'; the three together giving us a
very complete and detailed picture of the lives led by our
grandmothers and grandfathers whose hearts were in the same
place as our own but whose manners of speech of behaviour and
of dress have now entered into the vague region known as the
'days of yore'.

_The Three Clerks_ is an excellent example of Trollope's
handiwork. The development of the plot is sufficiently skilful to
maintain the reader's interest and the major part of the
characters is lifelike always well observed and sometimes
depicted with singular skill and insight. Trollope himself liked
the work well:--

'The plot is not so good as that of _The Macdermots_; nor
are any characters in the book equal to those of Mrs. Proudie and
the Warden; but the work has a more continued interest and
contains the first well-described love-scene that I ever wrote.
The passage in which Kate Woodward thinking she will die tries
to take leave of the lad she loves still brings tears to my eyes
when I read it. I had not the heart to kill her. I never could do
that. And I do not doubt that they are living happily together to
this day.

'The lawyer Chaffanbrass made his first appearance in this novel
and I do not think that I have cause to be ashamed of him. But
this novel now is chiefly noticeable to me from the fact that in
it I introduced a character under the name of Sir Gregory
Hardlines by which I intended to lean very heavily on that much
loathed scheme of competitive examination of which at that time
Sir Charles Trevelyan was the great apostle. Sir Gregory
Hardlines was intended for Sir Charles Trevelyan--as any one at
the time would know who had taken an interest in the Civil
Service. 'We always call him Sir Gregory' Lady Trevelyan said to
me afterwards when I came to know her husband. I never learned to
love competitive examination; but I became and am very fond of
Sir Charles Trevelyan. Sir Stafford Northcote who is now
Chancellor of the Exchequer was then leagued with his friend Sir
Charles and he too appears in _The Three Clerks_ under the
feebly facetious name of Sir Warwick West End. But for all that
_The Three Clerks_ was a good novel.'

Which excerpt from Trollope's _Autobiography_ serves to
throw light not only upon the novel in question but also upon
the character of its author.

Trollope served honestly and efficiently for many a long year in
the Post Office achieving his entrance through a farce of an
examination:--

'The story of that examination' he says 'is given accurately in
the opening chapters of a novel written by me called _The
Three Clerks_. If any reader of this memoir would refer to
that chapter and see how Charley Tudor was supposed to have been
admitted into the Internal Navigation Office that reader will
learn how Anthony Trollope was actually admitted into the
Secretary's office of the General Post Office in 1834.'

Poe's description of the manner in which he wrote _The
Raven_ is incredible being probably one of his solemn and
sombre jokes; equally incredible is Trollope's confession of his
humdrum mechanical methods of work. Doubtless he believed he was
telling the whole truth but only here and there in his
_Autobiography_ does he permit to peep out touches of light
which complete the portrait of himself. It is impossible that for
the reader any character in fiction should live which has not
been alive to its creator; so is it with Trollope who speaking
of his characters says

'I have wandered alone among the rooks and woods crying at their
grief laughing at their absurdities and thoroughly enjoying
their joy. I have been impregnated with my own creations till it
has been my only excitement to sit with the pen in my hand and
drive my team before me at as quick a pace as I could make them
travel.'

There is a plain matter-of-factness about Trollope's narratives
which is convincing making it difficult for the reader to call
himself back to fact and to remember that he has been wandering
in a world of fiction. In _The Three Clerks_ the young men
who give the tale its title are all well drawn. To accomplish
this in the cases of Alaric and Charley Tudor was easy enough for
a skilled writer but to breathe life into Harry Norman was
difficult. At first he appears to be a lay-figure a priggish
dummy of an immaculate hero a failure in portraiture; but toward
the end of the book it is borne in on us that our dislike had
been aroused by the lifelike nature of the painting dislike
toward a real man priggish indeed in many ways but with a very
human strain of obstinacy and obdurateness which few writers
would have permitted to have entered into the make-up of any of
their heroes. Of the other men Undy Scott may be named as among
the very best pieces of portraiture in Victorian fiction; touch
after touch of detail is added to the picture with really
admirable skill and Undy lives in the reader's memory as vividly
as he must have existed in the imagination of his creator. There
are some strong and curious passages in Chapter XLIV in which
the novelist contrasts the lives and fates of Varney Bill Sykes
and Undy Scott; they stir the blood proving uncontestibly that
Undy Scott was as real to Trollope as he is to us: 'The figure of
Undy swinging from a gibbet at the broad end of Lombard Street
would have an effect. Ah my fingers itch to be at the rope.'

Trollope possessed the rare and beautiful gift of painting the
hearts and souls of young girls and of this power he has given
an admirable example in Katie Woodward. It would be foolish and
cruel to attempt to epitomize or rather to draw in miniature
this portrait that Trollope has drawn at full length; were it not
for any other end those that are fond of all that is graceful
and charming in young womanhood should read _The Three Clerks_
so becoming the friend nay the lover of Katie. Her sisters are not
so attractive simply because nature did not make them so; a very
fine faithful woman Gertrude; a dear thing Linda. All three worthy
of their mother she who as we are told in a delicious phrase
'though adverse to a fool' 'could sympathize with folly '.

These eight portraits are grouped in the foreground of this
'conversation' piece the background being filled with slighter
but always live figures.

Particularly striking as being somewhat unusual with Trollope

How far different would have been Dickens's treatment of such
characters and such a scene; out of Mrs. Davis and Norah he would
have extracted fun and it would never have entered into his mind
to have brought such a man as Charley into contact with them in a
manner that must hurt that young hero's susceptibilities.
Thackeray would have followed a third way judging by his
treatment of the Fotheringay and Captain Costigan partly
humorous partly satirical partly serious.

Trollope was not endowed with any spark of wit his satire tends
towards the obvious and his humour is mild almost unconscious
as if he could depict for us what of the humorous came under his
observation without himself seeing the fun in it. Where he sets
forth with intent to be humorous he sometimes attains almost to
the tragic; there are few things so sad as a joke that misses
fire or a jester without sense of humour.

Of the genius of a writer of fiction there is scarce any other
test so sure as this of the reality of his characters. Few are
the authors that have created for us figures of fiction that are
more alive to us than the historic shadows of the past whose
dead bones historians do not seem to be able to clothe with flesh
and blood. Trollope hovers on the border line between genius and
great talent or rather it would be more fair to say that with
regard to him opinions may justly differ. For our own part we
hold that his was not talent streaked with genius but rather a
jog-trot genius alloyed with mediocrity. He lacked the supreme
unconsciousness of supreme genius for of genius as of talent
there are degrees. There are characters in _The Three Clerks_
that live; those who have read the tale must now and again when
passing Norfolk Street Strand regret that it would be waste of
time to turn down that rebuilt thoroughfare in search of 'The Pig
and Whistle' which was 'one of these small tranquil shrines of
Bacchus in which the god is worshipped with as constant a
devotion though with less noisy demonstration of zeal than in
his larger and more public temples'. Alas; lovers of Victorian London
must lament that such shrines grow fewer day by day; the great
thoroughfares know them no more; they hide nervously in old-world
corners and in them you will meet old-world characters who not
seldom seem to have lost themselves on their way to the pages
of Charles Dickens.

Despite the advent of electric tramways Hampton would still be
recognized by the three clerks 'the little village of Hampton
with its old-fashioned country inn and its bright quiet grassy
river.' Hampton is now as it then was the 'well-loved resort of
cockneydom'.

So let us alight from the tramcar at Hampton and look about on
the outskirts of the village for 'a small old-fashioned brick
house abutting on the road but looking from its front windows
on to a lawn and garden which stretched down to the river'.
Surbiton Cottage it is called. Let us peep in at that merry
happy family party; and laugh at Captain Cuttwater waking from
his placid sleep rubbing his eyes in wonderment and asking
'What the devil is all the row about?' But it is only with our
mind's eye that we can see Surbiton Cottage--a cottage in the air
it is but more substantial to some of us than many a real jerry-
built villa of red brick and stucco.

Old-fashioned seem to us the folk who once dwelt there old-
fashioned in all save that their hearts were true and their
outlook on life sane and clean; they live still though their
clothes be of a quaint fashion and their talk be of yesterday.

Who knows but that they will live long after we who love them
shall be dead and turned to dust?

W. TEIGNMOUTH SHORE.

CONTENTS

I. THE WEIGHTS AND MEASURES
II. THE INTERNAL NAVIGATION
III. THE WOODWARDS
IV. CAPTAIN CUTTWATER
V. BUSHEY PARK
VI. SIR GREGORY HARDLINES
VII. MR. FIDUS NEVERBEND
VIII. THE HON. UNDECIMUS SCOTT
IX. MR. MANYLODES
X. WHEAL MARY JANE
XI. THE THREE KINGS
XII. CONSOLATION
XIII. A COMMUNICATION OF IMPORTANCE
XIV. VERY SAD
XV. NORMAN RETURNS TO TOWN
XVI. THE FIRST WEDDING
XVII. THE HONOURABLE MRS. VAL AND MISS GOLIGHTLY
XVIII. A DAY WITH ONE OF THE NAVVIES.--MORNING
XIX. A DAY WITH ONE OF THE NAVVIES.--AFTERNOON
XX. A DAY WITH ONE OF THE NAVVIES.--EVENING
XXI. HAMPTON COURT BRIDGE
XXII. CRINOLINE AND MACASSAR; OR MY AUNT'S WILL
XXIII. SURBITON COLLOQUIES
XXIV. MR. M'BUFFER ACCEPTS THE CHILTERN HUNDREDS
XXV. CHISWICK GARDENS
XXVI. KATIE'S FIRST BALL
XXVII. EXCELSIOR
XXVIII. OUTERMAN _v_. TUDOR
XXIX. EASY IS THE SLOPE OF HELL
XXX. MRS. WOODWARD'S REQUEST
XXXI. HOW APOLLO SAVED THE NAVVY
XXXII. THE PARLIAMENTARY COMMITTEE
XXXIII. TO STAND OR NOT TO STAND
XXXIV. WESTMINSTER HALL
XXXV. MRS. VAL'S NEW CARRIAGE
XXXVI. TICKLISH STOCK
XXXVII. TRIBULATION
XXXVIII. ALARIC TUDOR TAKES A WALK
XXXIX. THE LAST BREAKFAST
XL. MR. CHAFFANBRASS
XLI. THE OLD BAILEY
XLII. A PARTING INTERVIEW
XLIII. MILLBANK
XLIV. THE CRIMINAL POPULATION IS DISPOSED OF
XLV. THE FATE OF THE NAVVIES
XLVI. MR. NOGO'S LAST QUESTION
XLVII. CONCLUSION

CHAPTER I

All the English world knows or knows of that branch of the
Civil Service which is popularly called the Weights and Measures.
Every inhabitant of London and every casual visitor there has
admired the handsome edifice which generally goes by that name
and which stands so conspicuously confronting the Treasury
Chambers. It must be owned that we have but a slip-slop way of
christening our public buildings. When a man tells us that he
called on a friend at the Horse Guards or looked in at the Navy
Pay or dropped a ticket at the Woods and Forests we put up with
the accustomed sounds though they are in themselves perhaps
indefensible. The 'Board of Commissioners for Regulating Weights
and Measures' and the 'Office of the Board of Commissioners for
Regulating Weights and Measures' are very long phrases; and as
in the course of this tale frequent mention will be made of the
public establishment in question the reader's comfort will be
best consulted by maintaining its popular though improper
denomination.

It is generally admitted that the Weights and Measures is a well-
conducted public office; indeed to such a degree of efficiency
has it been brought by its present very excellent secretary the
two very worthy assistant-secretaries and especially by its late
most respectable chief clerk that it may be said to stand quite
alone as a high model for all other public offices whatever. It
is exactly antipodistic of the Circumlocution Office and as such
is always referred to in the House of Commons by the gentleman
representing the Government when any attack on the Civil Service
generally is being made.

And when it is remembered how great are the interests entrusted
to the care of this board and of these secretaries and of that
chief clerk it must be admitted that nothing short of superlative
excellence ought to suffice the nation. All material intercourse
between man and man must be regulated either justly or
unjustly by weights and measures; and as we of all people
depend most on such material intercourse our weights and
measures should to us be a source of never-ending concern. And
then that question of the decimal coinage! is it not in these
days of paramount importance? Are we not disgraced by the twelve
pennies in our shilling by the four farthings in our penny? One
of the worthy assistant-secretaries the worthier probably of the
two has already grown pale beneath the weight of this question.
But he has sworn within himself with all the heroism of a
Nelson that he will either do or die. He will destroy the
shilling or the shilling shall destroy him. In his more ardent
moods he thinks that he hears the noise of battle booming round
him and talks to his wife of Westminster Abbey or a peerage.
Then what statistical work of the present age has shown half the
erudition contained in that essay lately published by the
secretary on _The Market Price of Coined Metals_? What other
living man could have compiled that chronological table which is
appended to it showing the comparative value of the metallic
currency for the last three hundred years? Compile it indeed!
What other secretary or assistant-secretary belonging to any
public office of the present day could even read it and live? It
completely silenced Mr. Muntz for a session and even _The
Times_ was afraid to review it.

Such a state of official excellence has not however been
obtained without its drawbacks at any rate in the eyes of the
unambitious tyros and unfledged novitiates of the establishment.
It is a very fine thing to be pointed out by envying fathers as a
promising clerk in the Weights and Measures and to receive civil
speeches from mammas with marriageable daughters. But a clerk in
...

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