CHAPTER II.

RETROSPECTIVE.

The Reverend James Ashurst had been head master of the Helmingham

Grammar School for nearly a quarter of a century. Many old people in

the village had a vivid recollection of him as a young man, with his

bright brown hair curling over his coat-collar, his frank fearless

glances, his rapid jerky walk. They recollected how he was by no means

particularly well received by the powers that then were, how he was

spoken of as "one of the new school"--a term in itself supposed to

convey the highest degree of opprobrium--and how the elders had shaken

their heads and prophesied that no good would come of the change,

and that it would have been better to have held on to old Dr. Munch,

after all. Old Dr. Munch, who had been Mr. Ashurst's immediate

predecessor, was as bad a specimen of the old-fashioned,

nothing-doing, sinecure-seeking pedagogue as could well be imagined; a

rotund, red-faced, gouty-footed divine, with a thick layer of limp

white cravat loosely tied round his short neck, and his suit of

clerical sables splashed with a culinary spray; a man whose originally

small stock of classical learning had gradually faded away, and whose

originally large stock of idleness and self-gratification had

simultaneously increased. Forty male children, born in lawful wedlock

in the parish of Helmingham, and properly presented on the foundation,

might have enjoyed the advantages of a free classical and mathematical

education at the Grammar School under the will of old Sir Ranulph

Clinton, the founder; but, under the lax rule of Dr. Munch, the forty

gradually dwindled to twenty, and of these twenty but few attended

school in the afternoon, knowing perfectly that for the first few

minutes after coming in from dinner the doctor paid but little

attention as to which members of the class might be present, and that

in a very few minutes he fell into a state of pleasant and unbroken

slumber.

This state of affairs was terrible, and, worst of all, it was getting

buzzed abroad. The two or three conscientious boys who really wanted

to learn shook their heads in despair, and appealed to their parents

to "let them leave;" the score of lads who enjoyed the existing state

of affairs were, lad-like, unable to keep it to themselves, and went

about calling on their neighbours to rejoice with them; so, speedily,

every one knew the state of affairs in Helmingham Grammar School. The

trustees of the charity, or "governors," as they were called, had not

the least notion how to proceed. They were, for the most part,

respectable tradesmen of the place, who had vague ideas about

"college" as of a sequestered spot where young men walked about in

stuff gowns and trencher caps, and were, by some unexplained

circumstance, rendered fit and ready for the bishop to convert into

clergymen. There must, they thought, probably be in this "college"

some one fit to take the place of old Dr. Munch, who must be got rid

of, come what may. At first, the resident "governors"--the tradesmen

of Helmingham--thought it best to write to two of their colleagues,

who were non-resident, and not by any manner of means tradesmen,

being, in fact, two distinguished peers of the realm, who, holding

property in the neighbourhood, had, for political reasons, thought fit

to cause themselves to be elected governors of old Sir Ranulph

Clinton's foundation. The letters explaining the state of affairs and

asking for advice were duly written; but matters political were at a

standstill just then; there was not the remotest chance of an election

for years; and so the two private secretaries of the two noble lords

pitched their respective letters into their respective wastebaskets,

with mutual grins of pity and contempt for the writers. Thrown back on

their own resources, the resident governors determined on applying to

the rector; acting under the feeling that he, as a clergyman, must

have been to this "college," and would doubtless be able to put them

in the way of securing such a man as they required. And they were

right. The then rector, though an old man, still kept up occasional

epistolary intercourse with such of his coevals as remained at the

university in the enjoyment of dignities of fellowships; and, being

himself both literate and conscientious, was by no means sorry to lend

a hand towards the removal of Dr. Munch, whom he looked upon as a

scandal to the cloth. A correspondence entered into between the rector

of Helmingham and the Principal of St. Beowulph's College, Oxford,

resulted in the enforced resignation of Dr. Munch as the head master

of Helmingham Grammar School, and the appointment of the Reverend

James Ashurst as his successor. The old doctor took his fate very

calmly; he knew that for a long time he had been doing nothing, and

had been sufficiently well paid for it. He settled down in a pleasant

village in Kent, where an old crony of his held the position of warden

to a City Company's charity, and this history knows him no more.

When James Ashurst received his appointment he was about

eight-and-twenty, had taken a double second class, had been scholar

and tutor of his college, and stood well for a fellowship. By nature

silent and reserved, and having found it necessary for the achievement

of his position to renounce nearly all society--for he was by no means

a brilliant man, and his successes had been gained by plodding

industry, and constant application rather than by the exercise of any

natural talent--James Ashurst had but few acquaintances, and to them

he never talked of his private affairs. They wondered when they heard

that he had renounced certain prospects, notably those of a

fellowship, for so poor a preferment as two hundred pounds a year and

a free house: for they did not know that the odd, shy, silent man had

found time in the intervals of his reading to win the heart of a

pretty trusting girl, and that the great hope of his life, that of

being able to marry her and take her to a decent home of which she

would be mistress, was about to be accomplished.

On a dreary, dull day, in the beginning of a bitter January, Mr.

Ashurst arrived at Helmingham. He found the schoolhouse dirty, dingy,

and uncomfortable, bearing traces everywhere of the negligence and

squalor of its previous occupant; but the chairman of the governors,

who met him on his arrival, told him that it should be thoroughly

cleaned and renovated during the Easter holidays, and the mention of

those holidays caused James Ashurst's heart to leap and throb with an

intensity with which house-painting could not possibly have anything

to do. In the Easter holidays he was to make Mary Bridger his wife,

and that thought sustained him splendidly during the three dreary

intervening months, and helped him to make head against a sea of

troubles raging round him. For the task on which he had entered was no

easy one. Such boys as had remained in the school under the easy rule

of Dr. Munch were of a class much lower than that for which the

benefits of the foundation had been contemplated by the benevolent old

knight, and having been unaccustomed to any discipline, had arrived at

a pitch of lawlessness which required all the new master's energy to

combat. This necessary strictness made him unpopular with the boys,

and at first with their parents, who made loud complaints of their

children being "put upon," and in some cases where bodily punishment

had been inflicted had threatened retribution. Then the chief

tradespeople and the farmers, among whom Dr. Munch had been a daily

and nightly guest, drinking his mug of ale or his tumbler of

brandy-and-water, smoking his long clay pipe, taking his hand at

whist, and listening, if not with pleasure, at any rate without

remonstrance, to language and stories more than sufficiently broad and

indecorous, found that Mr. Ashurst civilly, but persistently, refused

their proffered hospitality, and in consequence pronounced him

"stuck-up." No man was more free from class prejudices, but he had

been bred in old Somerset country society, where the squirearchy

maintained an almost feudal dignity, and his career in college had not

taught him the policy of being on terms of familiarity with those whom

Fortune had made his inferiors.

So James Ashurst struggled on during the first three months of his

novitiate at Helmingham, earnestly and energetically striving to do

his duty, with, it must be confessed, but poor result. The governors

of the school had been so impressed by the rector's recommendation,

and by the testimonials which the new master had submitted to them,

that they expected to find the regeneration of the establishment would

commence immediately upon James Ashurst's appearance upon the

scene, and were rather disappointed when they found that, while the

number of scholars remained much the same as at the time of Dr.

Munch's retirement, the general dissatisfaction in the village

was much greater than it had ever been during the reign of that

summarily-treated pedagogue. The rector, to be sure, remained true to

the choice he had recommended, and maintained everywhere that Mr.

Ashurst had done very well in the face of the greatest difficulties,

and would yet bring Helmingham into notice. But, notwithstanding

constant ocular proof to the contrary, the farmers held that in the

clerical profession, as in freemasonry, there was a certain occult

something beyond the ordinary ken, which bound members of "the cloth"

together, and induced them to support each other to the utmost stretch

of their consciences--a proceeding which, in the opinion of

freethinking Helmingham, allowed for a considerable amount of

elasticity.

At length the long-looked-for Easter tide arrived, and James Ashurst

hurried away from the dull gray old midland country village to the

bright little Thames-bordered town where lived his love. A wedding

with the church approach one brilliant pathway of spring flowers, a

honeymoon of such happiness as one knows but once in a lifetime,

passed in the lovely Lake country, and then Helmingham again. But with

a different aspect. The old schoolhouse itself brave in fresh paint

and new plaster, its renovated diamond windows, its cleaned slab so

classically eloquent on the merits _fundatoris nostri_ let in over the

porch, its newly stuccoed fives' wall and fresh-gravelled playground;

all this was strange but intelligible. But James Ashurst could not

understand yet the change that had come over his inner life. To return

after a hard day's grinding in a mill of boys to his own rooms was,

during the first three months of his career at Helmingham, merely to

exchange active purpose for passive existence. Now, his life did but

begin when the labours of the day were over, and he and his wife

passed the evenings together, in planning to combat with the present,

in delightful anticipations of the future. Mr. Ashurst unwittingly,

and without the least intending it, had made a very lucky hit in his

selection of a wife, so far as the Helmingham people were concerned.

He was "that bumptious" as they expressed it, or as we will more

charitably say, he was sufficiently independent, not to care one rap

what the Helmingham people thought of anything he did, provided he

had, as indeed at that time he always had--for he was conscientious in

the highest degree--the knowledge that he was acting rightly according

to his light. In a very few weeks the actual sweetness, the quiet

frankness, the most enthusiastic charm of Mrs. Ashurst's demeanour had

neutralised all the ill-effects of her husband's three months'

previous career. She was a small-boned, small-featured,

delicate-looking little woman, and as such excited a certain amount of

compassion and kindness amid the midland-county ladies, who, as their

husbands said of them, "ran big." It was a positive relief to one to

hear her soft little treble voice after the booming diapason of the

Helmingham ladies, or to see her pretty little fat dimpled hands

flashing here and there in some coquetry of needlework after being

accustomed to looking on at the steady play of particularly bony and

knuckly members in the unremitting torture of eminently utilitarian

employment. High and low, gentle and simple, rich and poor, still felt

equally kindly disposed towards Mrs. Ashurst. Mrs. Peacock, wife of

Squire Peacock, a tremendous magnate and squire of the neighbouring

parish, fell so much in love with her that she made her husband send

their only son, a magnificent youth destined eventually for Eton,

Oxford, Parliament, and a partnership in a brewery, to be introduced

to the Muses as a parlour-boarder in Mr. Ashurst's house; and Hiram

Brooks, the blacksmith and minister of the Independent Chapel, who was

at never-ending war with all the members of the Establishment, made a

special exception in Mrs. Ashurst's favour, and doffed his greasy

leathern cap to her as she passed the forge.

And his pretty little wife brought him good fortune, as well as

domestic happiness? James Ashurst delighted to think so. His

popularity in the village, and in the surrounding country, was on the

increase; the number of scholars on the foundership had reached its

authorised limit (a source of great gratification, though of no

pecuniary profit to the head master); and Master Peacock had now two

or three fellow-boarders, each of whom paid a fine annual sum. The

governors thought better of their head master now, and the old rector

had lived long enough to see his recommendation thoroughly accepted,

and his prophecy, as regards the improved status of the school, duly

fulfilled. Popular, successful in his little way, and happy in his

domestic relations, James Ashurst had but one want. His wife was

childless, and this was to him a source of discomfort, always felt and

occasionally expressed. He was just the man who would have doated on a

child, would have suffered himself to have been pleasantly befooled by

its gambols, and have worshipped it in every phase of its tyranny. But

it was not to be, he supposed; that was to be the one black drop in

his draught of happiness: and then, after he had been married for five

or six years, Mrs. Ashurst brought him a little daughter. His hopes

were accomplished, but he nearly lost his wife in their

accomplishment; while he dandled the newly born treasure in his arms,

Mrs. Ashurst's life was despaired of; and when the chubby baby had

grown up into a strong child, and from that sphere of life had

softened down into a peaceful girl, her mother, always slight and

delicate, had become a constant invalid, whose ill-health caused her

husband the greatest anxiety, and almost did away with the delight he

had in anticipating every wish of his darling little Marian.

James Ashurst had longed for a child, and he loved his little daughter

dearly when she came; but even then his wife held the deepest and most

sacred place in his heart, and as he marked her faded cheek and

lustreless eye, he felt a pang of remorse, and accused himself of

having set himself up against the just judgment of Providence, and

having now received the due reward of his repining. For one who

thought his darling must be restored to health, no sacrifice could be

too great to accomplish that result; and the Helmingham people, who

loved Mrs. Ashurst dearly, but who in their direst straits were never

accustomed to look for any other advice than that which could be

afforded them by Dr. Osborne, or his village opponent, Mr. Sharood,

were struck with admiration when Dr. Langton, the great county

physician, the oracle of Brocksopp, was called into consultation. Dr.

Langton was a very little man, noted almost as much for his reticence

as his skill. He never wasted a word. After a careful examination of

Mrs. Ashurst he pronounced it to be a tiresome case, and prescribed a

four months' residence at the baths of Ems as the likely treatment to

effect a mitigation, if not a cure. Dr. Osborne, after the great man's

departure, laughed aloud in his bluff way at the idea of a country

schoolmaster sending his wife to Ems.

"Langton is so much in the habit of going about among the country

families, and these _novi homines_ of manufacturers who stink of

brass, as they say in these parts, that he forgets there is such a

thing as having to look carefully at ways and means, my dear Ashurst,

and make both dovetail. Baths of Ems, indeed! I'm afraid you've thrown

away your ten guineas, my good friend, if that's all you've got out of

Langton!"

But Dr. Osborne's smile was suddenly checked when Mr. Ashurst said

very quietly that as his wife's health was dearer to him than anything

on earth, and that there was no sacrifice which he would not make to

accomplish its restoration, he should find means of sending her to

Germany, and keeping her there until it was seen what effect the

change had on her.

And he did it! For two successive summers Mrs. Ashurst went to Ems

with the old nurse who had brought her up, and accompanied her from

her pretty river-side home to Helmingham; and at the end of the second

season she returned comparatively well and strong. But she needed all

her strength and health when she looked at her husband, who came to

meet her in London, and found him thin, changed, round-shouldered, and

hollow-eyed, the very shadow of his former self. James Ashurst had

carried through his plans as regarded his wife at enormous sacrifice.

He had no ready money to meet the sudden call upon his purse which

such an expedition rendered necessary, and he had recourse to

money-lenders to raise the first loans required, then to friends to

pay the interest on and obtain renewals of these loans, then to other

moneylenders to replace the original sums, and to other friends to

repay a portion of the first friendly loans, until by the time his

wife returned from the second visit to the Continent he found himself

so inextricably involved that he dare not face his position, dare not

think of it himself, much less have taken her into his confidence, and

so went blindly on, paying interest on interest, and hoping ever with

a vague hope for some relief from his troubles.

That relief never came to James Ashurst in his lifetime. He struggled

on in the same hopeless, helpless, hand-to-mouth fashion for about

eight years more, always impecunious in the highest degree, always

intending to retrieve his fallen fortune, always slowly but surely

breaking and becoming less and less of a man under the harass of

pecuniary troubles, when the illness which for some time had

threatened him set in, and, as we have seen, he died.

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