George Bell first edition - 1908
After all the slights given to Methodism in some of the Scottish novels of the early nineteenth century, I thought I would purchase and read the prolific Sussex orientated Kaye-Smith's first novel. A slightly unsatisfactory book, though, which didn't really endear me to Methodism. (The author eventually converted to Roman Catholicism!) I have puzzled over why I found it less than satisfactory and I think a major reason lies with the central character.
The 20/21 year-old Humphrey Lyte, is one of six children of the Rector of Brede, who held in plurality the livings of Udimore, Westfield, Piddinghoe and Southease in East Sussex. The Rector and his eldest son, Clonmel - who assists him as curate - are unmitigated brutes, regularly kicking and beating Humphrey. Clonmel is a violent drunkard. Mind you, the rest of the family are little better: Archie and Kit were coarse and rough, Fanny and Tilly were vain and would-be genteel; my mother neglected me... It is not surprising that Humphrey is stiff, moody, sullen, and untractable, my bosom always seething with furious passions. All this appears to be an ideal background for becoming a Methodist itinerant preacher (or proselytiser, as his fellow itinerant, John Palehouse, calls them). In fact, Humphrey rather fits the caricature we read about in those Scottish novels - he is an Enthusiast. He spends much of the book in one kind of passion or another - whether it be desire for a woman or love of God; moreover, he appears to be ill - from the weather, beatings or gaol life - far too often.
Humphrey finds solace with a nearby Methodist ex-preacher Peter Winde and his daughter Mary, of similar age to Humphrey. Throughout the book I thought they would end up together. She was not beautiful, but her eyes were glowing like sparks which fly from under the smith's hammer, and her cheeks were flushing like the heart of a fire. She clearly falls in love with him, but to no avail. I did wonder if the author intended such a match, but changed her mind as she developed the story, She certainly deserved him. But, then, Humphrey meets a curate-in-charge of Ewehurst, Guy Shotover and, more importantly, his sister Ruth. She looked little more than child. Her stature was low, and her figure slight, and she had the dimpled cheeks and soft white throat one loves to kiss in children. Add all that to her hair - a rich, ruddy auburn, nearly red, and Humphrey is forever smitten. However, it is Mary who saves him from the hangman; not Ruth, who keeps quiet, or her cowardly brother.
Guy and Ruth are carrying a heavy, tragic, secret (at one stage I thought they weren't siblings, but lovers); the book ensnares all the main characters in the working out of this darkness from the past. But not before Humphrey tries his hand at Methodist open-air preaching. It is eight years since John Wesley's death (in 1791) and Methodism is already showing fissures - between the more Wesleyan chapel-based ministers and the itinerant brethren (probably, though never stated by the author, who became known as the Primitives). Kaye-Smith captures the meanderings of the latter quite well, including the love of Nature and the hostile behaviour of both the local louts and some members of the Established Church. John Palehouse's religion is well described: he was not a soft preacher. Though he himself was mild and tender as a woman, his sermons were stern, rugged, and ruthless as a storm...he loved to dwell on Old Testament scenes and characters, whereas I had spoken chiefly of the New; I had preached God as the Father, loving and beloved...John Palehouse spoke of Him as Jehovah, mighty and to be feared, visiting the sins of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation.
It is unlikely that such a Rector and curate as the Lytes existed (but what am I to know); Squire Enchmarsh of Kitchenhour, aka Harold Macaulay, is rather a caricature of the 'baddie' who meets a deserved death by his own hand; there is a melodramatic scene in a desolate cottage on the edge of marshes, where an eight year-old boy goes to his Maker (Dead and never called me Mother). Almost in passing, Humphrey - in criticising Methodist chapel life, for the petty interests, ambitions, and quarrels of Salem and Little Bethel - states he is a born wanderer - vagabond if you like - and always preaches badly within four walls and then lets drop, and though at the present time I am in charge of a chapel in the suburbs of London...! Where's Ruth? has he any children? Does he still link up with Mary? Most authors would answer these questions, certainly at the end of the novel. All these wobbles are acceptable in an author's first work (she was only twenty-one), but it stops it from being a first-rate one.
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