Husbands, wives, and lawyers: Gender roles and professional representation in Trollope and the Adelaide Bartlett case

For both the reader and the characters in the novel, the drama and tension of her second trial do not proceed from any doubt as to her guilt or innocence. The reader and Mason's barrister know early on that she is undoubtedly guilty of forging the codicil to her husband's will. Midway through the novel, Lady Mason confirms this knowledge by fully confessing to Sir Peregrine Orme.

"Sir Peregrine, I am guilty."

"Guilty! Guilty of what?" he said, startled rather than instructed by her words.

"Guilty of all this with which they charge me." And she then threw herself at his feet, and wound her arms round his knees. (I. 42)

Many critics considered this a premature confession and a dramatic gaffe on Trollope's part. However, it is not doubt as to Mason's guilt or innocence that propels this plot but the question of what to do with knowledge of her guilt. Sir Peregrine's difficulty in acknowledging the truth of this confession, and his subsequent struggles with what his conduct toward a guilty Lady Mason should be, dramatize acutely the dilemma that other characters face as well. Rather than asking "Did she do it?," the novel asks the more subtle question "What will be the effect of her guilt?" The effect of that guilt on those who desire to represent her is particularly important. We see three men vie for this role: Mr. Furnival wishes to be her barrister; Sir Peregrine wants to be her husband; and her son, Lucius Mason, wants to act as head of the household.

Mr. Furnival's conduct, as emblematic of professional conduct in general and England's legal system in particular, comes under close scrutiny in the novel. His conduct will also come under close scrutiny here in an effort to analyze what kind of a defense Furnival plans for Mason and what kind of role he forges for himself. During the course of Orley Farm, characters from all walks of life debate the role of the barrister and the law courts. The highest ranking character in the novel, Sir Peregrine, issues an idealistic defense of the integrity of England's law courts and legal practitioners: "My love, what is the purport of law if it be not to discover the truth, and make it plain to the light of day?" Even the narrator finds such sentiments to be "perhaps beautiful, but . . . very simple" (II. 161). Mr. Moulder, traveling salesman, occupies the lowest social level of any character in the novel and proffers a correspondingly low opinion of the law. His opinion, blunt as it is, provides a more clear-sighted if less attractive vision of the role of a legal advocate.

"They're paid for it; it's their duties; just as it's my duty to sell Hubbles and Grease's sugar. It's not for me to say the sugar's bad, or the samples not equal to the last. My duty is to sell, and I sell;-and it's their duty to get a verdict." . . .

"But it aint justice," said Mrs. Smiley.

"Why not? I say it is justice. You can have it if you choose to pay for it, and so can I." (II. 213)

Mr. Moulder understands professional advocacy strictly in terms of a business exchange.