A Rich Man's Relatives (Vol. 1 of 3)

In Short

Set against the backdrop of 19th-century Canada, this novel explores the lives of the Herkimer family and their associates as they navigate the complexities of legacy, class, and marriage. When a vast fortune is at stake, the characters—ranging from self-important socialites to struggling dependents—reveal their true natures through petty feuds, romantic entanglements, and the pursuit of status. With a keen eye for the absurdities of provincial life and a touch of quiet irony, the narrative examines how money and expectation distort human relationships and moral judgment.

The Story

The story centers on the Herkimer family, particularly the sisters Judith and Susan, whose lives revolve around the management of their social standing and their expectations of inheritance. The arrival of their nephew, Ralph, introduces a more predatory element to their circle; he is a man of business and "financial operations" who views the world—and the people within it—as assets to be managed or exploited. Ralph’s influence is pervasive, extending from the sale of dubious land to the manipulation of his aunts’ domestic arrangements.

Parallel to these high-society maneuvers is the life of Mary, a young woman caught in the web of family disapproval regarding her attachment to Gerald. The sisters, especially the stern and self-righteous Judith, view these developments with a mixture of moral outrage and calculated intervention. Judith, whose life is defined by a rigid adherence to social rules and a performative piety, serves as a catalyst for much of the conflict. Her desire to protect the family’s honor often masks a deeper need for control.

As the narrative progresses, the focus shifts to the arrival of a "little waif"—a baby found after a storm—who becomes an unexpected focal point for the characters. For the spinster Matilda, the child provides a sudden, albeit superficial, purpose, acting as a "living doll" to fill the void left by her lonely existence. The baby’s presence forces the other characters to confront their own emptiness and the "poetry of justice" that governs their lives.

The arc of the story involves the inevitable clash between these characters’ self-serving desires and the reality of their situations. Ralph continues his opportunistic ventures, eventually transitioning from a mere financier to a recognized capitalist, indifferent to the suffering of those he ruins. Meanwhile, the sisters find their own forms of resolution: Judith, through a marriage of convenience to a curate named Dionysius, finds a new stage for her need to be the center of attention, while others are left to grapple with the consequences of their choices. The story concludes with a reflection on the nature of ambition and the realization that, despite the characters' attempts to manipulate fate, time ultimately reveals the vanity of their efforts. The final glimpses of the community, including the French-Canadian families connected to the estate, underscore the deep divisions and unresolved resentments that persist beneath the surface of their orderly, comfortable lives.

How It Unfolds

The arrival of the stranger The Herkimer sisters find their quiet, insular lives disrupted by the arrival of a mysterious infant found abandoned after a storm. This unexpected event forces a confrontation between their rigid social codes and the sudden, unbidden demands of maternal instinct.

The machinations of the nephew Ralph Herkimer moves through the community with a predatory grace, manipulating land deals and orchestrating the fortunes of those around him. His confidence in his ability to "guide the dubious hand of Fate" defines his interactions with both his aunts and his business associates.

The pursuit of the curate Judith Stanley’s search for meaning finds an outlet in her fixation on the curate Dionysius, whom she attempts to mold and protect. Her transition from a lonely, judgmental spinster to a wife is portrayed as a peculiar power play, highlighting her need for a captive audience.

The reality of the wilderness The narrative expands to include the experiences of those outside the inner social circle, revealing the stark contrast between the wealthy landowners and the laborers on the seigniory. The aspirations of the immigrant families are met with the indifferent, often destructive, reach of the capitalist class.

The final accounting The story settles into an uneasy conclusion where the characters remain trapped in their own illusions. The pursuit of wealth and status continues, even as the hollowness of these accomplishments becomes increasingly apparent to the reader.

The People

Ralph Herkimer is the driving force of the narrative, a man of ruthless pragmatism who views himself as a financier. He is motivated by the accumulation of power and wealth, often at the expense of those who trust his guidance. By the end, he has successfully cemented his status as a capitalist, though he remains spiritually hollow, ever-watchful for the next opportunity to manipulate the world to his advantage.

Judith Stanley is a woman whose rigid, moralistic worldview masks a deep insecurity. She is a "parson-fancier" who seeks validation through her influence over men and her standing in the church. Her marriage to Dionysius Bunce, a well-meaning but ultimately passive curate, allows her to exert a domestic authority that she previously lacked, though her fundamental character remains unchanged.

Matilda Stanley represents the aimless, sheltered existence of the provincial elite. Her initial lack of purpose is replaced by an obsession with the foundling child, whom she treats as a decorative object rather than a human being. Her transformation is entirely surface-level, reflecting her inability to engage with the world in a meaningful way.

Dionysius Bunce is the curate who becomes the unwitting subject of Judith’s attentions. He begins as an earnest, slightly confused young man and ends as a husband who believes his own greatness is a reflection of his wife’s devotion. His journey is one of increasing self-importance, fueled by the comfort of his domestic life.

In Its Own Voice

"If my boy, Cato, now, had not been an extra good nigger, these sisters of mine would have made him leave me long ago."

The narrator recounts the Colonel’s defensive stance regarding his human property, illustrating the callous entitlement of the Southern gentry.

"There seemed a pathos in it, and he felt a sympathy with the vanished and disappointed maker of the fortune, or rather with the straying misdirected wealth."

Ralph reflects on the legacy of his late uncle, viewing the inheritance not as a moral challenge, but as an opportunity for self-enrichment.

"The gate opened, and a clergyman appeared--a young clergyman."

The narrator introduces the curate with a touch of dry amusement, hinting at the character’s future role as a pawn in Judith’s social game.

What It's Really About

The book is a sharp critique of the interplay between wealth and morality in a developing colonial society. It asks whether true virtue can exist in a system that rewards the shrewd and the heartless while marginalizing those who lack economic power. The narrative suggests that the obsession with status and "correct" behavior—whether through religious piety or social climbing—is a form of vanity that blinds individuals to their own moral failings. Ultimately, the book argues that human character is often brittle, shaped more by the comforts and pressures of one’s station than by any genuine inner depth or commitment to the welfare of others.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the slow-burn social observation of Victorian-era fiction will find much to admire in this novel. It offers a fascinating, if sometimes cynical, look at a specific period in Canadian history, capturing the intersection of rigid social hierarchies and the raw ambition of a burgeoning capitalist class. The tone is consistently warm yet precise, never veering into sentimentality even when dealing with the most dramatic of personal crises.

However, prospective readers should be aware that the prose reflects the attitudes of its time, particularly regarding class, gender, and the treatment of others, which can feel jarringly archaic to a modern sensibility. The dialect used in certain passages—particularly the "broad Scotch" and the phonetic renderings of regional speech—can be difficult to parse, acting as a barrier that demands patience. Despite these hurdles, the book remains a compelling study of human inconsistency. It stays with you not because of its plot, but because of its unblinking portrait of how ordinary people convince themselves of their own righteousness while acting in ways that are, at best, profoundly oblivious and, at worst, quietly destructive.