An ardent devotee of fox hunting, Trollope often used the hunt as a piece of the plot in his stories, and his descriptions of the sport convey the authenticity of the literate sportsman. Each of my two paperback editions of The American Senator show hunt scenes on the cover. And in this novel the hunt shows us Senator Gotobed in his quixotic defense of sabotaging the sport, and Arabella Trefoil on the hunt for Lord Rufford.
The world of the English gentry of which Trollope wrote was not such a large one that prominent characters from other stories might not sometimes make their appearance; and the faithful Trollope reader will smile to get a glimpse of Lady Chiltern and the Duchess of Omnium, old friends from the world of the Palliser series, as they visit the home of the Duke of Mistletoe, Arabella Trefoil's uncle.
And one last bit of trivia: When Senator Gotobed presents his lecture enumerating the follies of the English, he is shouted down and some cry, "Buncombe!" Also spelled bunkum and sometimes shortened to bunk, this term for nonsense traveled across the Atlantic as the legacy of a congressman from North Carolina, whose district included Buncombe County, after he felt obliged to "make a speech for Buncombe" in Congress.
The main plot is complicated and a bit commonplace, introduced in the first chapters that require the reader to go through with a marking pencil to identify the players, their generations, and their family relationships. The requisite dues having been paid, the reader may then go on with the story, but one is still obliged to return to these chapters for reference. Less patient generations of readers have limited tolerance of such introductions, even though some of the author's capsule comments can be quite quotable, as in this observation in describing Lawrence Twentyman: "And his farming was well done; for though he was, out-and-out, a gentleman-farmer, he knew how to get the full worth in work done for the fourteen shillings a week that he paid to his labourers—a deficiency in which knowledge is the cause why gentlemen in general find farming so very expensive an amusement."
If Lawrence Twentyman is the real hero of the story, he is a frustrated hero, unsuccessful from start to end in his courtship of Mary Masters, threatening to sell his farm and emigrate to New Zealand when he fails to win her. He loses Mary, daughter of the lawyer whose family has handled the Morton family business for generations, to Reginald Morton, some fifteen years their senior and heir to the property. Reginald's cousin, John Morton, is the squire of Bragton until his untimely death of "gastric fever." (What was "gastric fever?" Did he have typhoid fever? Or just a convenient diagnosis in the "chapter of accidents" that a novelist must resort to?) John is a victim of Arabella's scheming, introduced as her fiancé in a match with no outward signs of affection. He is employed in the foreign office, is assigned to the United States, is known by his colleagues as "The Paragon," and is later assigned to Patagonia, a remote outpost of the foreign service. John's grandmother dreams up schemes that require closer attention to family feuds than the casual reader will be willing to undertake; Reginald's great-aunt Lady Ushant is the good gentlewoman who is Reginald's champion, and she also befriends Mary Masters. Mary is constantly harassed by her wicked stepmother who urges her to accept Larry Twentyman and avoid the temptation to associate with the gentry. In particular, Mary is urged not to go "Ushanting" by visiting kind Lady Ushant.
This is all well and good, and it's enough to keep the story going; but it's pretty predictable Trollope fare. Arabella, the American Senator, and the poisoned red herrings are the spice to the story.
LESSER BARCHESTER
IS HE POPENJOY?
Is He Popenjoy? puts us in familiar Trollope territory: the cathedral and close, and the manor house. We have a lord of the manor, the Marquis of Brotherton, who exercises his rights with such persistent rudeness that one is hard pressed to think of any redeeming virtues; and from there the cast of characters is a familiar one: his younger brother, Lord George, a lesser Plantagenet Palliser, a dull fellow who marries a true heroine, Mary Lovelace, and proves that he hardly deserves her when he allows himself to get his fingers burned by his first lover, Adelaide Houghton, because he can't figure out how to avoid it. Mary's father, the Dean of Brotherton, is a lesser Archdeacon Grantly, rich enough to provide money for his impoverished son-in-law, and too ambitious and proud to keep from offending Lord George with his largesse. Lord George has four ugly sisters, close to a straight copy from Cinderella's stepsisters, who intimidate poor Mary with their family position and their good works for the poor. One of them, Lady Susanna, is worse than the others and at one time visits Mary as an unwelcome duenna. The eldest, Lady Sarah, is better than the others and sometimes sees the light.