sumptive, had died in December 1834, and her husband in October 1835. Mrs. Trollope evinced an extraordinary power of resistance in bearing up against these trials. She wrote to travel, and travelled to write, going systematically abroad, and producing books on Belgium (1834) and Paris (1835)—good reading for the day, but of little permanent value. A chapter on George Sand, however, is remarkable. ‘Vienna and the Austrians’ was added in 1837. Mrs. Trollope was nevertheless well advised in devoting herself principally to fiction. ‘Tremordyn Cliff’ appeared in 1835; in 1836 she used her experiences of American slavery in the powerful story of ‘Jonathan Jefferson Whitlaw.’ In 1837 and 1838 appeared her best known novels, ‘The Vicar of Wrexhill’ and ‘Widow Barnaby.’ Both exemplify her power in broad comedy, and confirm the criticism that the further from ideal refinement her characters are, the better she succeeds with them. This is especially the case with ‘The Widow Barnaby,’ a powerful picture of a thoroughly coarse and offensive woman, but so droll that the offence is forgotten in the amusement. A French version appeared in 1877. It is difficult to believe that Wrexhill (Rakeshill) and its vicar are not Harrow-on-the-Hill and the Rev. J. W. Cunningham; but the circumstance, taken for granted during the authoress's life, has been denied since her death. However this may be, the book is a vigorous and humorous onslaught upon the evangelical party in the church, untrue to fact, but not to the conviction of the assailant.
Mrs. Trollope's position as a novelist was now assured, and for twenty years she poured forth a continual stream of fiction, without producing any book which, like ‘The Vicar of Wrexhill’ or ‘The Widow Barnaby,’ achieved the reputation of a standard novel. If, as some of her friends thought, she possessed invention and depth of feeling, these endowments remain unused, and her works are generally successful in proportion as they reproduce her own experiences. ‘The Robertses on their Travels’ (1846), ‘The Lottery of Marriage’ (1849), ‘Uncle Walter’ (1852), ‘The Life and Adventures of a Clever Woman’ (1854), are perhaps the most remarkable of these later writings. But these also included in the department of fiction alone: ‘One Fault’ (1839); ‘Michael Armstrong’ (1840); ‘The Widow Married,’ a sequel to ‘The Widow Barnaby’ (1840); ‘The Young Countess’ (1840); ‘The Blue Belles of England’ (1841); ‘Ward of Thorpe Combe’ (1842); ‘The Barnabys in America’ (1843); ‘Hargrave, or the Adventures of a Man of Fashion’ (1843); ‘Jessie Phillips’ (1844); ‘The Lauringtons, or Superior People’ (1844); ‘Young Love’ (1844); ‘Attractive Man’ (1846); ‘Father Eustace, a Tale of the Jesuits’ (1846); ‘Three Cousins’ (1847); ‘Town and Country’ (1847); ‘Lottery of Marriage’ (1849); ‘Petticoat Government’ (1850); ‘Mrs. Matthews, or Family Mysteries’ (1851); ‘Second Love, or Beauty and Intellect’ (1851); ‘Uncle Walter’ (1852); ‘Young Heiress’ (1853); ‘Gertrude, or Family Pride’ (1855). Nearly all of these passed through several editions.
Mrs. Trollope's later years were uneventful. Her circumstances were now easy, her novels producing on an average upwards of 600l. each, and some of her own property having apparently been recovered from the wreck of her husband's affairs. She passed much time on the continent, and in 1843 settled at Florence with her eldest son, Thomas Adolphus [q. v.] She died there on 6 Oct. 1863, being buried in the protestant cemetery. The ‘Villino Trollope’ (as her son's house was called) in the Piazza dell' Indipendenza is marked by a tablet to her memory, erected by the municipality.
Mrs. Trollope's success in a particular department of her art has been injurious to her general reputation. She lives by the vigour of her portraits of vulgar persons, and her readers cannot help associating her with the characters she makes so entirely her own. There is nothing in her letters to confirm this impression. She writes not only like a woman of sense, but like a woman of feeling. Though shrewd and observant, she could hardly be termed intellectual, nor was she warmly sympathetic with what is highest in literature, art, and life. But she was richly provided with solid and useful virtues—‘honest, courageous, industrious, generous, and affectionate,’ as her character is summed up by her daughter-in-law. As a writer, the most remarkable circumstance in her career is perhaps the late period at which she began to write. It can but seldom have happened that an author destined to prolonged productiveness and some celebrity should have published nothing until fifty-two.
A portrait painted by Auguste Hervieu is reproduced in the ‘Life’ of 1895, together with another portrait from a drawing. A portrait sketch in watercolours by Miss Lucy Adams was acquired by the British Museum in 1861; it has been engraved by W. Holl.
[The principal authority for Mrs. Trollope's life is ‘Frances Trollope, her Life and Literary Work,’ by her daughter-in-law, Frances Eleanor Trollope, 1895. See also the autobiographies of her sons, Anthony and Thomas Adolphus
