Middlemarch

Bulstrode Identifies the Visitor as Raffles

Bulstrode, dreading confirmation, identifies the visitor as “an unfortunate dissolute wretch” whom he once helped too much, and predicts the man will come to the Bank to beg. His subdued manner reveals an underlying dread he refuses to share with his wife.

Bulstrode’s Uneasy Interaction with His Wife

The next day, Bulstrode is discovered by his wife leaning on a chest of drawers and staring blankly at the ground, his coat and cravat removed. When she sponges his head with vinegar and presses him with questions, he admits that the man came to the Bank and is now a “drunken debauched creature.” The exchange exposes the social gap between them and Mrs. Bulstrode’s quiet consciousness of her husband’s humbler London Dissenting origins.

Bulstrode’s Confrontation with Raffles at the Bank

The chapter recounts the Bank interview in which Raffles made plain that his eagerness to torment Bulstrode rivaled any other greed. He confessed he had turned out of his way to visit Middlemarch, partly to see whether the neighborhood would suit him, partly to draw money, and partly for the pleasure of observing his old associate’s prosperity.

Raffles Demands Money and Threatens Return

Raffles openly declares that a mere twenty-five pounds will presently suffice him, but he refuses to be “seen off the premises” and intends to leave by coach on his own terms. He hints broadly that he may later return for a longer stay, and Bulstrode recognizes that neither threats nor promises can control him.

Bulstrode’s Terror of Past Exposure

Bulstrode is not in danger of legal punishment or beggary but is terrified that Raffles will disclose facts from his past that would make him an object of scorn to his neighbors and an opprobrium to his religion. The narrative describes how terror sharpens memory, transforming a long-buried past into a vivid, shameful presence that interposes itself between him and all else.

Recollections of Bulstrode’s Early Religious Life

In reverie, Bulstrode revisits his youth as a clever, personable banker’s clerk and prominent young Calvinistic Dissenter at Highbury, already marked out for his theological fluency and striking religious experiences. He recalls being called “Brother Bulstrode,” speaking at prayer meetings, and feeling that he might be called to the ministry or missionary work—the happiest period of his life, the one he would now choose to inhabit again.

Bulstrode’s Acceptance of the Pawnbroker Business

Following the death of a subordinate partner, Bulstrode is offered the confidential accountant’s role in Mr. Dunkirk’s magnificent pawnbroking business, and he accepts. Although initially troubled by the trade’s tolerance of stolen goods, he rationalizes his retention of the position through prayer, metaphor, and a sense that the work is a providential instrument for his salvation and usefulness.

Concealment of Mrs. Dunkirk’s Daughter

After the deaths of Mr. Dunkirk’s son and then Mr. Dunkirk himself, the widowed Mrs. Dunkirk yearns for her estranged daughter before consenting to marry Bulstrode. Although Bulstrode knows the daughter has been found, he conceals her existence, pays the one other knowing party to vanish, and soothes the mother with hopes that the lost daughter may already be dead, thereby securing unencumbered access to the fortune.

Bulstrode’s Rationalization of Past Actions

Bulstrode reviews his past conduct, convincing himself that each step had been sanctioned by “remarkable providences” pointing him toward the best use of a large fortune. He reasons that the inheritance ought not pass to frivolous people outside the path of divine intention, and he tells himself he never consciously decided the daughter should remain hidden, even as he consistently acted to ensure she was.

Bulstrode’s Struggle for Spiritual Redemption

Five years later, the death of his wife allows Bulstrode gradually to withdraw his capital, though he never makes the sacrifices needed to close the business, which continues for thirteen more years. His reflections turn toward a possible spiritual, and perhaps material, rescue, and the chapter acknowledges his genuine longing for redemption, distinguishing him from a merely coarse hypocrite.