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FIGURES

1.1 The changing dynamics of social marketing 12

1.2 Elements of Kotler and Zaltman’s (1971) social marketing planning system 16
2.1 The passive model of behaviour 32
2.2 The ABC (antecedents, behaviour/choice, consequences/change) of
behavioural learning 33
2.3 Behavioural learning theory 33
2.4 Purpose and scope of the communication 34
2.5 The belief model 37
2.6 Protection motivation theory 38
2.7 Revised protection motivation theory 39
2.8 Social cognitive theory 40
2.9 Theory of reasoned action 41
2.10 Theory of planned behaviour 42
2.11 Information–motivation–behavioural skills model 43
2.12 Norm-activation theory 44
2.13 Self-regulation theory 47
2.14 Transtheoretical model 48
3.1 A continuum of behavioural interventions 60
3.2 Frameworks of governance typology 65
4.1 The process of social marketing 77
4.2 Geographical, psychological and industrial elements of a tourism system 89
4.3 Approaches to social marketing communication by level of assessment
and nature of content 90
4.4 A product life-course from social to commercial marketing 115
9.1 The relative level of environmental activities and the provision and adoption
of environmentally sound alternatives for different consumption domains
in developed countries 199
9.2 Producer and consumer behaviour in sustainable tourism consumption 202
9.3 Dimensions of carbon literacy 212
9.4 Dimensions of carbon capability 212
9.5 Dimensions of carbon capability with upstream social marketing 224
TABLES

1.1 International tourism arrivals and forecasts 1950–2030 5

1.2 American Marketing Association (AMA) definitions of marketing 13
2.1 Research traditions in the communication process 35
3.1 Intervention mechanisms and types of regulation 63
3.2 Frameworks of governance 65
3.3 Societal dimensions in sponsorship projects 69
4.1 Stages of the social marketing planning process identified by various authors 78
4.2 Direction of marketing performance objectives 83
4.3 Positioning alternatives for heritage products 93
4.4 The advantages and disadvantages of different social marketing
communication strategies 95
4.5 Questions to ask in advertisement evaluation for behavioural change 97
4.6 Stages in the corporate sponsorship process 108
4.7 Factors influencing selection of policy implementation instruments 111
4.8 Legitimate and covert purposes of using evaluation 113
4.9 Models of programme evaluation 114
4.10 Ethical and moral issues in evaluation 114
5.1 Comparisons between commercial and social marketing 122
5.2 Social marketing benchmark criteria 127
5.3 Benchmark criteria for social marketing interventions 128
6.1 Overview of demarketing cases discussed in Chapter 6 139
6.2 States of actual versus desired demand 140
6.3 Connecting product demand levels to social marketing 142
6.4 Relationship of marketing mix to protected area demarketing measures 143
7.1 Overview of social marketing cases and issues discussed in Chapter 7 154
8.1 Overview of social marketing cases and issues discussed in Chapter 8 178
9.1 Approaches to consumer change 213
9.2 Relationship of dimensions of carbon capability to orders of change in
policy learning 222
BOXES

1.1 Articles in the 1971 special issue of the Journal of Marketing on marketing’s
changing social/environmental role 2
1.2 UNWTO: Why tourism is a suitable economic development sector for least-
developed countries 7
1.3 Encouraging responsible and ethical tourism: the case of Tearfund 9
1.4 Social marketing’s unique value proposition 21
1.5 Personal activity: weekly personal behaviour change diary/journal 28
2.1 Insufficient understanding of tourist adaptive behaviour to climate change 31
2.2 Happiness and subjective well-being 51
3.1 Examining policy constraints and prospects for improvement:
marine conservation policy in Seychelles 56
3.2 Policy and theory 58
3.3 Lessons, hugs, shoves, nudges or smacks? 61
3.4 Private sector-led marine conservation: a case study of two marine
protected areas in Indonesia 64
3.5 Profitable Partnerships: Business involvement in cause related campaigns
and the impact on consumer habits 68
3.6 What is your perspective on the relative rights of the individual and
the state? 73
4.1 The importance of exchange 75
4.2 Responses to cutbacks in funding for marketing in the UK
Central Government 82
4.3 Shock advertising 98
4.4 Viral marketing and social media 102
4.5 Guerrilla marketing 104
4.6 Live Earth, sponsor recognition and climate change behaviour 109
4.7 Civic crowdfunding 109
4.8 Was safe sex campaign ‘gimmicky advertising’ and ‘wasted money’? 117
5.1 Donor switching: a social marketing exchange challenge 123
5.2 Using tourism as an incentive for sexually transmitted disease testing 125
5.3 Thompson’s (2008) rules to make argumentation more effective 132
5.4 Alcohol and shock advertising 136
x Boxes

6.1 Demarketing child sex tourism 144

6.2 Demarketing the Sistine Chapel? 151
7.1 Carbon offsetting in aviation 156
7.2 The solar UV index: slip, slop, slap, seek and slide 172
7.3 Self-reflective questions 174
8.1 Hosting World Cups as a social marketing opportunity? 177
8.2 Encouraging people to staycation 191
9.1 We all have to consume, but do we really have to travel so much to be happy? 200
9.2 Anti-consumption behaviour and attitudinal change: the case of the
2009 South Australian single-use polyethylene plastic bag ban 203
9.3 Declaration of the first international conference on economic degrowth
held in 2008 205
9.4 Voluntary simplicity 206
9.5 From dictatorial nanny state to individual responsibility? 216
9.6 The way to engage people in complex issues such as climate change is
not on billboards or TV screens 220
9.7 Whose interests and values does tourism and tourism research serve? 229
10.1 Motivations for corporate and environmental social responsibility:
the case of Scandinavian Airlines 231
10.2 Topics in the 1971 special issue of the Journal of Marketing on marketing’s
changing social/environmental role: how successful have we been? 235
10.3 Anti-clutter advertising campaigns: the case of Adbusters and anti-consumption 240
10.4 Opening the black box of behavioural change and being the change you
want to be 242
FOREWORD AND
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Social marketing is the utilisation of marketing principles and methods to change behav-
iours for the benefit of individuals and communities. This is not a book about how your
fourth generation phone and the Internet can promote your destination or tourism product.
If you think that this is a book about tourism and social media marketing then put it down
and slowly walk away. On second thoughts don’t, you might even learn something! First,
about the ‘original’ social marketing. Second, there actually is discussion on guerrilla and
viral marketing and e-promotional channels (which are often overrated depending on your
target audience, but you need to read on to learn about that). Third, because it may make
you rethink about what tourism marketing can actually be about. And, finally, because my
publishers, editors and I could actually do with the income, don’t photocopy or scan it, buy it.
Marketing is in great part about exchange, you pay for the book (or the library does), you get
ideas and knowledge, we get to keep our jobs. It is, as Monty Python once said, ‘a fair cop’.
The book arose in great part because I am someone who has tourism as a major research
interest who got to teach a course on social marketing and it was extremely interesting to
be able to combine a focus on behavioural change with a tourism context. More seriously
perhaps, climate and environmental change, as well as the way that tourism sometimes over-
whelms culture and places, provides a major challenge for trying to encourage behavioural
change for more sustainable forms of tourism. As you will see if you read through the book I
do not necessarily think that social marketing is going to solve all of the world’s or tourism’s
problems for that matter, but it certainly does have a part to play.
Several colleagues in my department in New Zealand have provided very direct influ-
ence on the development of this book. Ekant Veer, Paul Ballantine, Lucie Ozanne and
the annoyingly departed Tony Garry (splitter!) have all inputted positively into this book
in various ways, while the department’s incredible administrative staff of Irene, Irene and
Donna have also helped create the space in which I can work. Similar thanks are also due
to the Department of Service Management, Lund Helsingborg and the Freiburg Institute of
Advanced Studies. The interests of various students in social marketing and tourism must also
be acknowledged. Dao Truong’s work on social marketing and pro-poor tourism has been
outstanding while Tim Baird has helped develop some of the cases and examples used in this
book. Elizabeth Raymond’s work on volunteer tourism provided a valuable basis to assess the
social marketing success of sending organisations. The insights of social marketing students
xii Foreword and acknowledgements

Angela McDonnell, Rebecca McNaughton, Michelle Moore and Sandra Wilson is gratefully
noted; as are those of advanced marketing research students Alice Blair, Hayley Gargiulo,
Caroline Gunn and Meaghan Parker; and tourism marketing and management students Jacqui
Drake and Sacha Madden have also been extremely helpful. The generous assistance of René
Baretje-Keller in providing tourism references is also very gratefully acknowledged.
A number of colleagues with whom I have undertaken research or discussed social market-
ing and tourism related issues over the years have also contributed to the development of this
book in various ways. In particular, thanks to Nicole Aigner, Tim Baird, Dorothee Bohn, Bill
Bramwell, Scott Cohen, Tim Coles, Hervé Corvellec, David Duval, Stefan Gössling, Anna
Grundén, James Higham, Johan Hultman, John Jenkins, Bernard Lane, Harvey Lemelin,
Simon McArthur, Ghazali Musa, Dieter Müller, Paul Peeters, Jarkko Saarinen, Anna Dóra
Sæþórsdóttir, Sara Sbai, Daniel Scott, Liz Sharples, Dallen Timothy, Dao Truong, Sandra
Wall and Maria José Zapata Campos for their thoughts, as well as for the sanity and stimulation
of Beirut, Nick Cave, Bruce Cockburn, Elvis Costello, Stephen Cummings, Chris Difford
and Glenn Tilbrook, Dimmer, Ebba Fosberg, Hoodoo Gurus, Frida Hyvönen, The Jackson
Code, The Kills, Ed Kuepper, Laura Marling, Vinnie Reilly, David Sylvian, Twinemen,
Jennifer Warnes, Chris Wilson, World’s Tallest Man and the Guardian and BBC – without
whom the four walls of a hotel room would be much more confining. A warm acknowledge-
ment is also provided to Grüner Baum Merzhausen, Granville Island Market, AGRO Café,
C4 Coffee, and the Nordic Choice hotel network, especially in Helsingborg and Kalmar for
their contributions and spaces. Finally, Michael would like to thank the many people who
have supported his work over the years, and especially the Js and the Cs who stay at home
with the almonds, walnuts and Lucy and Wellington.
Finally, thanks and support is given to my Routledge muses Emma Travis and Pippa
Mullins as well as the rest of the Taylor & Francis team that has supported this book and other
work, particularly given the delays and tribulations caused by the Christchurch earthquakes.

C. Michael Hall
Riverstones
July 2013
ABBREVIATIONS

AMA American Marketing Association

BITC Business in the Community (UK)
CDC Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (USA)
CERs Certified Emission Reductions
LDCs least developed countries
MERs Mandatory Emission Reductions
NIMBY Not In My Back Yard
NPM new public management
NSMC National Social Marketing Centre (UK)
PPT pro-poor tourism
QOL quality of life
SCR Sustainable Consumption Roundtable
SWB subjective well-being
UNCTAD United Nations Conference on Trade and Development
UNEP United Nations Environmental Programme
UNWTO United Nations World Tourism Organization
VERs Verified Emission Reductions or Voluntary Emission Reductions
WEF World Economic Forum
WOM word of mouth
WTO World Tourism Organization
WTTC World Travel and Tourism Council
YIMBY Yes In My Back Yard
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1
INTRODUCTION TO THE FIELD
OF SOCIAL MARKETING
Creating social change?

Chapter 1 outlines the intellectual foundations of social marketing and the historical develop-
ment of the field since the early 1970s. Key debates discussed include the extent to which
marketing methods developed for commercial marketing practice can be applied to non-
profit organisations and behavioural change (which in turn lead to a discussion as to whether
marketing is inherently a field that encourages consumptive practices); differences between
social marketing and education; and the ideological and political dimension of social mar-
keting. This last point also allows a discussion on the connection between marketing ethics
and the application of marketing principles and practice. A number of the issues and debates
within social marketing also have a strong resonance with the tourism field as this provides a
means of introducing the reader to the significance of social marketing for students of tourism.
In particular the development of sub-fields of social marketing such as environmental market-
ing, health marketing and sustainable marketing is also reflected in some of the sub-fields of
tourism. The chapter also provides an overall framework for the book. The first three chapters
provide an overall context and introduction to social marketing principles, methods and issues
before examining their application within specific problem areas and scales of analysis.

Introduction to social marketing and tourism

Social marketing is the use of commercial marketing concepts and tools to create behavioural
change. The term ‘social marketing’ was first used in 1971 (Kotler and Zaltman 1971) in a
special issue of the Journal of Marketing on marketing’s changing social/environmental role
(Box 1.1). The associated pictures on the journal contents page show traffic congested, rub-
bish on a street of what appears to be poor-quality housing and smog in a smokestack-filled
industrial landscape. In many ways the pictures highlight the enormous range of fields, includ-
ing health, well-being and quality of life, the environment, welfare and sustainability to which
the notion of social marketing has since been applied. Yet ‘despite widespread attention being
given to the importance of changing the behaviors of both tourists and tourism businesses’
(Truong and Hall 2013: 1), especially in the context of sustainable tourism (Gössling et al.
2008; Gössling, Hall and Weaver 2009), there is surprisingly little attention given to the
2 Introduction to the field of social marketing

potential of social marketing in the field of tourism (Dinan and Sargeant 2000; Kaczynski
2008; Shang et al. 2010). For example, although Lane (2009: 23) identifies social marketing
as being a critical element in the development of more sustainable forms of tourism it is also
significant that he argues: ‘The concept of social marketing, of using marketing techniques to
encourage behavioural change, rather than increased consumption of existing products, is in
its infancy—and little understood by tourism marketing agencies, or the media’.
Social marketing – ‘the use of marketing principles and techniques to influence a target
audience to voluntarily accept, reject, modify or abandon a behaviour for the benefit of indi-
viduals, groups or society as a whole’ (Kotler et al. 2002: 5) – is an area of marketing that is
continuing to grow in significance, particularly as governments seek to use non-regulatory
mechanisms to change individual and group behaviours to achieve policy goals. Such mar-
keting strategies have recently been recognised as being potentially extremely important for
tourism by encouraging appropriate visitor, host and business behaviours (Lane 2009); creat-
ing a better balance between tourism and the host community or attraction (e.g. Beeton and
Benfield 2002); conserving cultural heritage and natural attractions; improving visitor experi-
ences; as well as assisting in the development of new tourism opportunities (Truong 2013).
Social marketing therefore has the potential to influence personal, community and business
behaviours throughout the tourism system. However, as the chapter outlines, the field of
social marketing is marked by considerable debate and controversy over its objectives as well
as the ethical and political dimensions of behaviour change – themes that will be returned to
throughout the book.

BOX 1.1 ARTICLES IN THE 1971 SPECIAL ISSUE OF THE

JOURNAL OF MARKETING ON MARKETING’S CHANGING
SOCIAL/ENVIRONMENTAL ROLE
● Social marketing: An approach to planned social change
● Marketing’s application to fund raising
● Health service marketing: A suggested model
● Marketing and population problems
● Recycling solid wastes: A channels-of-distribution problem
● Comparing the cost of food to blacks and to whites
● Consumer protection via self-regulation
● Societal adaptation: A new challenge for marketing
● Incorporating ecology into marketing strategy: The case of air pollution
● Marketing science in the age of Aquarius

Source: Journal of Marketing, 35(3), contents page

Framing tourism
Tourism is a fuzzy (Markusen 1999) and slippery concept (Wincott 2003), that is seemingly
easy to visualise yet difficult to define with precision because it changes meaning depending
on the context of its analysis, purpose and use (Hall and Lew 2009). In distinguishing tour-
ism from other types of human movement several factors are significant (Hall 2005a, 2005b).
 Introduction to the field of social marketing 3

● Tourism is voluntary and does not include the forced movement of people for political
or environmental reasons, that is tourists are not refugees.
● Tourism can be distinguished from migration because a tourist is making a return trip
from their home environment while the migrant is moving permanently away from what
was their home environment.
● The distinction between tourism and migration sometimes becomes blurred because
some people engage in return travel away from their usual home environment for an
extended period, i.e. a ‘gap year’ or ‘working holiday’ in another country. In these
types of situations, time (how long they are away from their normal or permanent place
of residence) and distance (how far they have travelled or whether they have crossed
jurisdictional borders) become determining factors in defining tourism statistically and
distinguishing between migration and tourism.

Using the above approach there are a number of forms of voluntary travel that serve to con-
stitute tourism both conceptually and statistically in addition to the leisure and pleasure travel
that is usually conceived of by many people as being tourism:

● visiting friends and relations (VFR)

● business travel
● travel to second homes
● health- and medical-related travel
● education-related travel
● religious travel and pilgrimage
● travel for shopping and retail
● volunteer tourism.

Confusion over defining tourism does not end here. The word tourism is also used to describe
tourists (the people who engage in voluntary return mobility), the notion of a tourism industry
(which is the term used to describe those firms, organisations and individuals that enable tour-
ists to travel) and the whole social and economic phenomenon of tourism, including tourists,
the tourism industry, the people and places that comprise tourism destinations, as well as the
effects of tourism on generating areas, transit zones and destinations; what is usually termed
the tourism system (Hall and Lew 2009).
Based on generally accepted international agreements for collecting and comparing tour-
ism and travel statistics, the term tourism trip refers to a trip of not more than 12 months and
for a main purpose other than being employed at the destination (UN and UNWTO 2007).
However, despite UN and UNWTO recommendations there are substantial differences
between countries with respect to the length of time that they use to define a tourist, as well
as how employment is defined (Lennon 2003; Hall and Page 2006). Three types of tourism
are usually recognised:

1 domestic tourism, which includes the activities of resident visitors within their home coun-
try or economy of reference, either as part of a domestic or an international trip;
2 inbound tourism, which includes the activities of non-resident visitors within the destina-
tion country or economy of reference, either as part of a domestic or an international trip
(from the perspective of the traveller’s country of residence); and
4 Introduction to the field of social marketing

3 outbound tourism, which includes the activities of resident visitors outside their home
country or economy of reference, as part of either a domestic or an international trip.

In order to improve statistical collection and improve understanding of tourism, the UN and
the UNWTO have long recommended differentiating between visitors, tourists and excur-
sionists (Hall and Lew 2009). An international tourist can be defined as: ‘a visitor who travels
to a country other than that in which he or she has his or her usual residence for at least one
night but not more than one year, and whose main purpose of visit is other than the exercise
of an activity remunerated from within the country visited’; and an international excursionist
(also referred to as a day-tripper; for example, a cruise-ship visitor) can be defined as: ‘a visitor
residing in a country who travels the same day to a different country for less than 24 hours
without spending the night in the country visited, and whose main purpose of visit is other
than the exercise of an activity remunerated from within the country visited’. Domestic
day-tripping is often considered a form of recreation, rather than tourism – though this too
confuses the definition of who is a tourist and who is not, especially as some government
authorities include day-trippers in their tourism data (Hall and Lew 2009).
The term visit refers to the stay (stop) (overnight or same-day) in a place away from home
during a trip. Entering a geographical area, such as a county or town, without stopping usually
does not qualify as a visit to that place (UN and UNWTO 2007). Such definitional issues are of
major importance with respect to estimating the economic and other impacts of tourism, as well
as assessing tourist markets, distribution and flows. Unfortunately, despite the recommendations of
international agencies individual countries often collect tourist data inconsistently, with information
of excursionists and domestic tourism being the most poorly served at a global level (Lennon 2003).

Growth in tourism arrivals

One of the few publicly available estimates of total global tourism volume was made by the
UNWTO in 2008 (UNWTO, UNEP and WMO 2008). This suggested that for 2005 total
tourism demand (overnight and same-day, international and domestic) was estimated to have
accounted for about 9.8 billion arrivals. Of these, five billion arrivals were estimated to be from
same-day visitors (four billion domestic and one billion international) and 4.8 billion from arrivals
of visitors staying overnight (tourists) (four billion domestic and 800 million international). Given
that an international trip can generate arrivals in more than one destination country, the number of
trips is somewhat lower than the number of arrivals. For 2005 the global number of international
tourist trips (i.e., trips by overnight visitors) was estimated at 750 million (Scott et al. 2008: 122).
This corresponds to approximately 16 per cent of the total number of tourist trips, while domestic
trips represent the large majority (84 per cent or four billion). The UNWTO estimates highlight
the potential economic significance of domestic tourism for many destinations, even though the
major research, policy and marketing focus tends to be on international tourism.
In 2012, international tourist arrivals are expected to reach one billion for the first time, up from
25 million in 1950, 278 million in 1980 and 540 million in 1995 (UNWTO 2012) (Table 1.1).
Although international tourism is usually the primary policy focus because of its international
business and trade dimensions, and its role as a source of foreign exchange (Coles and Hall 2008),
the vast majority of tourism is domestic in nature. For example, Cooper and Hall (2013) sug-
gested that domestic tourism, excluding same-day visitors, accounted for an estimated 4.7 billion
arrivals in 2010, and predicted that sometime between 2014 and 2017 the total number of visitor
 Introduction to the field of social marketing 5

arrivals combined (domestic and international) would exceed the world’s population for the first
time. Nevertheless, although there are reasonable aggregate data sets available on international
visitor arrivals at the national level, data for domestic tourism is often poor or non-existent in
many jurisdictions. Thereby potentially affecting our understanding of tourism flows and patterns
and its impacts but also the capacity for effective policy making and interventions.
In 2011 international tourist arrivals (overnight visitors) grew by 4.6 per cent worldwide
to 983 million, up from 940 million in 2010 when arrivals increased by 6.4 per cent. These
rapid rates of growth represent a rebound from the international financial crisis of 2008–10.
Contrary to long-term trends, advanced economies (4.9 per cent) experienced higher visitor
growth than emerging economies (4.3 per cent), reflecting the relative impacts of the financial
crisis as well as the effects of political instability in the Middle East and North Africa, which
experienced declines of 8.0 per cent and 9.1 per cent respectively (UNWTO 2012).
The UNWTO predicts the number of international tourist arrivals will increase by
3.3 per cent per year on average between 2010 and 2030 (an increase of 43 million arrivals a
year on average), reaching an estimated 1.8 billion arrivals by 2030 (UNWTO 2011, 2012).
UNWTO upper and lower forecasts for global tourism are between approximately two bil-
lion arrivals (under the ‘real transport costs continue to fall’ scenario) and 1.4 billion arrivals
(under the ‘slower than expected economic recovery and future growth’ scenario) respectively
(UNWTO 2011). Most of this growth is forecast to come from the emerging economies and
the Asia-Pacific region, and by 2030 it is estimated that 57 per cent of international arrivals will
be in what are currently classified as emerging economies (UNWTO 2011, 2012).

TABLE 1.1 International tourism arrivals and forecasts 1950–2030

Year World Africa Americas Asia and Europe Middle East

Pacific

1950 25.3 0.5 7.5 0.2 16.8 0.2

1960 69.3 0.8 16.7 0.9 50.4 0.6
1965 112.9 1.4 23.2 2.1 83.7 2.4
1970 165.8 2.4 42.3 6.2 113.0 1.9
1975 222.3 4.7 50.0 10.2 153.9 3.5
1980 278.1 7.2 62.3 23.0 178.5 7.1
1985 320.1 9.7 65.1 32.9 204.3 8.1
1990 439.5 15.2 92.8 56.2 265.8 9.6
1995 540.6 20.4 109.0 82.4 315.0 13.7
2000 687.0 28.3 128.1 110.5 395.9 24.2
2005 806.8 37.3 133.5 155.4 441.5 39.0
2010 940 49.7 150.7 204.4 474.8 60.3

Forecast

2020 1,360 85 199 355 620 101

2030 1,809 134 248 535 744 149

Source: World Tourism Organization 1997; UN WTO 2006a, 2012

6 Introduction to the field of social marketing

Economic significance
Given the substantial growth rates for international tourism it should be no surprise that
substantial emphasis is placed on its potential economic benefits. Tourism ranks as the fourth
largest economic sector after fuels, chemicals and food, generates an estimated 5 per cent of
world gross domestic product (GDP), and contributes an estimated 6–7 per cent of employ-
ment (direct and indirect) (UNWTO 2012). In contrast the World Travel and Tourism
Council (WTTC), an umbrella lobby group comprising the major tourism corporations in
the world, estimate that ‘travel and tourism … accounts for US$6 trillion, or 9 per cent, of
global gross domestic product (GDP) and it supports 260 million jobs worldwide, either
directly or indirectly. That’s almost 1 in 12 of all jobs on the planet’ (World Travel and
Tourism Council 2012: 3). Such disparities in estimates are reflective of some of the difficul-
ties in assessing the sector’s economic significance.
International tourism’s export value, including international passenger transport, was
US$1.2 trillion in 2011, accounting for 30 per cent of the world’s exports of commer-
cial services or six per cent of total exports (UNWTO 2012). Even though the relative
proportion of tourism’s contribution to international trade in services has declined as
the contribution from ICT in particular has increased (Hall and Coles 2008), tour-
ism remains an extremely significant contributor to the global economy, although its
economic contribution, as with the flow of travellers, is uneven (Hall and Lew 2009).
Nevertheless, tourism is one of the five top export earners in over 150 countries, while
in 60 countries it is the number one export sector (UNCTAD 2010). It is also the
main source of foreign exchange for one-third of developing countries and one-half of
least-developed countries (LDCs) (UNWTO and UNEP 2011). The UNWTO (2006b)
estimated that tourism was the primary source of foreign exchange earnings in 46 out
of 50 of the world’s LDCs. Considering the continued growth in international tourism
it is not surprising that it is strongly promoted by some members of the international
development community as an important element in poverty reduction strategies and
development financing (World Travel and Tourism Council 2004; World Economic
Forum 2009a, 2009b; UNCTAD 2010) (Box 1.2).
In 2011, international tourism receipts reached US$1,030 billion (€740 billion), up
from US$927 billion (€699 billion) in 2010. This represented a 3.9 per cent growth in
receipts in real terms. The export value of international passenger transport was estimated
at US$196 billion (€141 billion) in 2011, up from US$170 billion (€131 billion) in 2010
(UNWTO 2012). According to the UNWTO (2012) receipts from international tourism
were over US$1 billion for 85 countries in 2011. Although there is a strong correlation
between international tourism arrivals and receipts, it is noticeable that growth in receipts
from international tourism tends to lag behind growth in tourist numbers. This relative
drop in the per capita value of international arrivals can be explained in part by the high
level of competitiveness in the tourism industry, especially at a price-sensitive period when
emerging from economic downturn, but is also because the length of stay per visit has been
slowly declining in many mature country destinations as consumers purchase more ‘short-
break’ holidays.
 Introduction to the field of social marketing 7

BOX 1.2 UNWTO: WHY TOURISM IS A SUITABLE

ECONOMIC DEVELOPMENT SECTOR FOR LEAST-
DEVELOPED COUNTRIES
The UNWTO (2006b: 1) outlines several reasons why tourism makes an ‘especially suit-
able economic development sector for LDCs’:

1 Tourism is consumed at the point of production; the tourist has to go to the destina-
tion and spend his/her money there, opening an opportunity for local businesses of
all sorts, and allowing local communities to benefit through the informal economy, by
selling goods and services directly to visitors.
2 Most LDCs have a comparative advantage in tourism over developed countries.
3 Tourism is a more diverse industry than many others. It has the potential to support
other economic activities, both through providing flexible, part-time jobs that can
complement other livelihood options, and through creating income throughout a
complex supply chain of goods and services.
4 Tourism is labour intensive, which is particularly important in tackling poverty. It also
provides a wide range of different employment opportunities especially for women
and young people – from the highly skilled to the unskilled – and generally it requires
relatively little training.
5 It creates opportunities for many small and micro entrepreneurs, either in the formal
or informal economy; it is an industry in which start-up costs and barriers to entry are
generally low or can easily be lowered.
6 Tourism provides not only material benefits for the poor but also cultural pride. It cre-
ates greater awareness of the natural environment and its economic value, a sense of
ownership and reduced vulnerability through diversification of income sources.
7 The infrastructure required by tourism, such as transport and communications, water sup-
ply and sanitation, public security and health services, can also benefit poor communities.

So why does tourism need social marketing?

Given the size and growth rate of the tourism industry why does tourism need social market-
ing? Answer: it is exactly because of those growth rates that social marketing is being seen as
potentially significant. In some cases social marketing may be used to promote more posi-
tive attitudes by a community towards tourists in order to make the tourist experience more
welcoming. Such interventions are usually linked with a concern to maximise the economic
benefits of tourism at a destination and to create positive visitor experiences and word-of-
mouth. Social marketing has been recognised as one of the influences on place branding and
marketing strategies because of the recognition that place promotion can also improve a com-
munity’s self-perception (McDivitt 2003; Kavaratzis and Ashworth 2008; Warnaby 2009). In
other cases social marketing may be used to promote codes of conduct to visitors or industry
so as to ensure appropriate behaviours. However, the greatest attention is given to tourism’s
social and environmental impacts. Like any industry or form of development tourism has its
negative aspects. Despite the significance attached to sustainability both inside and outside of
the tourism industry, tourism is less sustainable than ever (Hall 2011a).
8 Introduction to the field of social marketing

Although tourism has been promoted by some in the development community for over
40 years, the mid- to long-term relative contribution of tourism projects to development
strategies remains poorly evaluated (Hawkins and Mann 2007; Zapata et al. 2011). For exam-
ple, a study of tourism in Kenya, Tanzania and Uganda indicated that hotels and restaurants,
and in particular the transport industry, provide below-average shares of income to poor
households compared to other export sectors, leading to the conclusion that ‘these results
paint a fairly poor picture of the ability of tourism to alleviate poverty’ (Blake 2008: 511),
particularly because tourism tends to be disproportionally beneficial to the already wealthy
(Schilcher 2007; Blake et al. 2008) and can reinforce existing inequalities (Chok et al. 2007;
Hall 2007b; Scheyvens and Momsen 2008; Zapata et al. 2011). Indeed, the often highly
gendered nature of employment in tourism together with poor pay and substantial levels of
casualisation and short-term employment has also been criticised in destinations in developed
countries (Campos-Soria et al. 2011; Cuccia and Rizzo 2011; Zampoukos and Ioannides,
2011), casting question marks over its relative contribution to regional development.
Tourism has also long been implicated in negative impacts on culture and communities
(Billson 1988; Holden 2010; Nunkoo and Ramkissoon 2010), including senses of well-
being (Kim et al. 2013), as well as damage to cultural artefacts and heritage sites (Yu 2008;
Ashworth 2009). In the case of environmental impacts, notwithstanding its role in justifying
national park establishment and maintenance, tourism is associated with increases in the rate
of invasive species and disease introductions and increased risk to biodiversity (Gössling 2002;
Mozumder et al. 2006; Hall 2010b, 2010c; Hall and James 2011), as well as landscape change
(Gössling and Hall 2006a; Tzanopoulos and Vogiatzakis 2011). Of long-term concern is also
the growing contribution of tourism to climate change, especially given that the absolute
growth in tourism mobility is greater than any efficiencies being made with respect to emis-
sions reduction. Tourism transport, accommodation and activities combined were estimated
by UNWTO-commissioned study to contribute an estimated 5 per cent to global anthropo-
genic emissions of CO2 in 2005 (Scott et al. 2008), of which approximately 40 per cent come
from air transport, 32 per cent from car transport and 21 per cent from accommodation, with
growth continuing to occur in all areas (Gössling et al. 2010). Based on a business-as-usual
(BAU) scenario for 2035, Scott et al. (2008) suggest that CO2 emissions from tourism will
grow by about 135 per cent to 2035 compared with 2005, with much of this growth associ-
ated with air travel (see also World Economic Forum 2009a). According to Hall (2010a: 137)
‘much tourism growth, as with much economic growth in general, is already uneconomic
at the present margin as we currently measure it given that it is leading to a clear running
down of natural capital’. Given this situation it is therefore perhaps not surprising that there
is a growing interest in the potential role of social marketing to influence tourism-related
behaviours and to potentially make it more sustainable (Lane 2009; Peeters et al. 2009).

Social marketing in tourism

Although there was prior interest in the concept of social marketing in tourism (Cowell
1979; Foxall 1984; Gilbert 1989; Bramwell 1991; Paddison 1993; Blamey and Braithwaite
1997; Walle 1997), including with respect to its role in city marketing and place branding
(Ashworth and Voogd 1988; Stubbs et al. 2002), it was not until 2002 with the publi-
cation of two articles (Bright 2000) that social marketing became an explicit focus in
tourism research.
 Introduction to the field of social marketing 9

Bright (2000) focused on the potential role of social marketing in recreation and leisure
delivery by local and regional government agencies, noting a range of areas in which social
marketing techniques could be used, including: participation of at-risk youth; support for and
participation in recreation programmes designed to benefit persons with disabilities; appro-
priate management of private open space to preserve biodiversity or protect wildlife habitat;
support for controversial land and wildlife management policies such as endangered species
restoration or hunting techniques; physical activity of seniors with health conditions; health-
related behaviours, through recreation, in cooperation with public health organisations; and
vandalism and other destructive behaviours. Given the social or public welfare perspective of
many local government recreation departments, Bright (2000) suggested that this constitutes
a strong fit with the philosophical orientation of social marketing.
In contrast, Dinan and Sargeant’s (2000) article adopted a much stronger focus on the
potential role of the tools and techniques of social marketing for tourism organisations seeking
a more sustainable approach to their market by focusing on not only attracting appropriate
market segments but by also encouraging visitors to behave in an appropriate manner. The
potential of social marketing to encourage more sustainable and ethical tourist behaviours has
become a significant research theme (Weeden 2002; Chhabra 2010; Pomering et al. 2011;
Lebel and Shamsub 2012) (Box 1.3), with Jamrozy (2007) even claiming that it was part of a
paradigm shift in tourism marketing towards sustainability. Notwithstanding such optimism, it
is apparent that social marketing has become recognised as a potential tool to encourage more
sustainable visitor and business behaviour. For example, demarketing – ‘that aspect of market-
ing that deals with discouraging customers in general or a certain class of customers in particular
on either a temporary or permanent basis’ (Kotler and Levy 1971: 76) – has been advocated
as a means to reduce visitor pressure on sites in environmentally sensitive areas and national
parks (Groff 1998; Beeton and Benfield 2002; Wearing et al. 2007), as well as on a larger scale
(Clements 1989) (see Chapter 6), although perhaps the most recognisable exercise of social
marketing practices within the tourism industry is the accommodation sector’s encouragement
of customers to reuse towels and linen so as to help reduce water and electricity use (while also
lowering operating costs and improving their image) (Shang et al. 2010). In addition, social
marketing strategies have been seen as a means to encourage behavioural change in tourism
businesses with respect to sustainability (George and Frey 2010; Gössling 2010).

BOX 1.3 ENCOURAGING RESPONSIBLE AND ETHICAL

TOURISM: THE CASE OF TEARFUND
Weeden (2002) writes that ethical tourism provides a platform for companies to com-
pete on more than just price alone. The rise of this form of tourism and its impact as
an added dimension to the decision-making process, which forms part of consumers’
holiday purchasing decisions, was the subject of research by Goodwin and Francis (2003)
who chose Tearfund, a United Kingdom-based responsible tourism initiative, as the focus
of their case study research. In 1999 Tearfund commissioned a survey of consumer atti-
tudes regarding ethical issues in tourism amongst residents in the United Kingdom, and
targeted a nationally and regionally representative sample of adults aged 15 years and
over as their sample population (Tearfund 2000b). Goodwin and Francis (2003) wanted
10 Introduction to the field of social marketing

to demonstrate exactly how the work of Tearfund had proved that there was a market
demand for tourism that was grounded in responsible practices, and that this was an area
that social marketers could potentially tap into in order to capitalise on this new form of
consumer demand.
The findings of this survey revealed that tour operators (54 per cent) and travel agents
(52 per cent) were regarded as being the main sources of information amongst partici-
pants in terms of providing details of what destinations were known for actively practising
ethical tourism (Tearfund 2000b). Specific questions were also asked as to whether par-
ticipants would be prepared to pay more for their holiday packages if these were based
around the ‘ethical characteristics’ (Goodwin and Francis 2003: 274) that they them-
selves aspired to. Tearfund (2000b) found that 59 per cent of respondents would be
willing to pay more if this extra revenue was either used to ensure an improvement in the
quality of working conditions and wages in the regions that they were planning to visit, to
help to preserve the quality of the local environment or be given directly to locally based
charity organisations.
In response to the findings of their 1999 survey, Tearfund released A Tearfund Guide
to Tourism: Don’t Forget Your Ethics the following year (Tearfund 2000a). This publication
was designed to highlight the ethical issues associated with tourism, and was distributed
amongst tour operators in the United Kingdom. The contents of the publication focused
on how the way in which visitors travelled from one country to another raised ethical
issues around employment and working conditions, whilst simultaneously also bringing
to the fore the environmental consequences that the mere act of travelling from one
destination to another can present (Tearfund 2000a). Questions were also raised regard-
ing the human rights records of some tourism destinations and whether democratic
political processes were present within the destinations that tourists had chosen to visit.
Tearfund also raised the question ‘Do local people want tourists visiting them?’ in this
survey (Tearfund 2000a), which in itself was quite a radical suggestion. This was argued
by Tearfund (2000a) as being based on the fact that holidays are a consumer purchase
and that ‘our choice of holiday, just like any other consumer choice, affects other people’.
The key aim of publicising these issues for Tearfund was to try and attempt to move tour
operators beyond merely focusing on the environmental effects of travel to include both
social and economic dimensions as well (Tearfund 2000b). This was done by Tearfund
suggesting that tour operators should try their upmost to ensure that work conditions
in the countries where they conducted business were known to be good, and that local
communities received a greater share of the revenue garnered from tourism in their area
(Tearfund 2000a, 2000b; Goodwin and Francis 2003).
Weeden (2002) points out that existing research in the field of psychology shows that
there is a dilemma that exists between the conscience of the consumer and their subse-
quent purchasing behaviours. Those who chose to find out more information regarding
responsible tourism practices – labelled as ‘rebellious consumers’ (Goodwin and Francis
2003: 282) – take into account not only price when purchasing holiday packages, but
are also increasingly being drawn to deals that decree to provide or practice levels of eco-
nomic, social and environmental responsibility (Krippendorf 1987; King 2002). Goodwin
and Francis (2003: 282) also suggest that while the choices on offer to consumers are
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 ‘Faint heart never won fair lady,’ she said. ‘I know she likes you.’
‘I hope you won’t think me conceited if I agree with you, but I really
think she does,’ said Kenrick, remembering that curious fainting fit on
the first evening of Miss Harefield’s visit.
He took heart of grace next day, finding Beatrix alone in the library
an hour or so before the late tea. It was a windy afternoon, late in
March, the sky dull and gray, the wood fire glowing redly, Beatrix
seated in her low chair beside the hearth, with a book on her lap,
deep in thought.
‘I don’t wonder you admire Pascal,’ she said, without looking up,
as Kenrick came towards the hearth. ‘His is a most delicate wit.’
‘I am sorry to say I don’t know anything about the gentleman,’ said
Kenrick. ‘Did he write plays or novels?’
‘I beg your pardon. I thought you were Mr. Dulcimer.’
‘You took me for a better man than I am. All those rows of sober
old books are Greek to me—worse than Greek, for I do know that by
sight. I wonder that you can find so much happiness in this dry-as-
dust collection of the dear Vicar’s.’
‘I don’t know about happiness,’ answered Beatrix, with a faint sigh.
‘I find forgetfulness. I suppose that is almost as good.’
‘There cannot be much in your young life that you can wish to
forget,’ said Kenrick.
‘There is very little in it that I care to remember.’
‘Erase it altogether from your memory then, and begin a new life
from to-day,’ said Kenrick, flinging himself head foremost into a gulf
of uncertain issues, like the diver who plunges into the fatal deep to
win the king’s daughter. ‘Let the beginning of a brighter and happier
life date from to-day. You are one of those flowers of earth which
seem to be born to blush unseen. You, who are so worthy of love
and admiration, have lived hidden from those who could admire and
appreciate. But if a real and unmeasured love in the present can
compensate for your losses in the past, that love is yours, Beatrix. I
love you as I never thought I should love. I did not know that it was in
my nature to feel as strongly as I feel for you. Stop—do not answer
me too quickly,’ he cried, reading rejection in her look as she turned
to him with the firelight shining on her face. ‘You will say, perhaps, “I
am rich and you are poor. How am I to believe in your truth?”’
‘I am not capable of thinking meanly of you,’ answered Beatrix.
‘But you ask me what is impossible. I have made up my mind never
to marry.’
‘Will you tell me the reason?’
‘That is my secret.’
‘I am not to be answered so easily, Beatrix. I love you too well to
lose you without a struggle. I have spoken too soon, perhaps. I have
been too precipitate. But I am to go back to India in a few weeks,
and I should like to return with a new happiness—with at least the
promise of your love.’
‘I have no love to give you. If you could see into the bottom of my
heart, you would be horrified at its emptiness. The warmest feeling I
have is gratitude to my friends the Dulcimers. Yes, I think that is the
only human feeling you would discover in my heart. That is why I like
to live among these books. They are a world in themselves. They
give me delight, and ask no love in return.’
‘But I am not like the books, Beatrix; I ask for your love, and I shall
not be easily denied.’
And then he told her his dream about Culverhouse Castle. How
she was to reign there—not like his mother, in silence and seclusion,
but in all the power of youth, beauty, and wealth, a queen of county
society, the centre and focus of a happy world of her own, loved,
admired, and revered.
‘I,’ exclaimed Beatrix—‘I, who have been suspected of poisoning
my father?’
‘That shameful slander has never penetrated beyond this
contemptible hole,’ said Kenrick, very disrespectful to Little Yafford in
the warmth of his indignation. ‘For God’s sake, Beatrix, do not let
that foul scandal weigh in your mind. Perhaps that is the reason you
reject me,’ he added, slow to believe that he had been mistaken
when he fancied himself beloved.
‘No,’ answered Beatrix, ‘but the only man I ever loved rejected me
for that reason.’
‘Oh,’ said Kenrick, deeply mortified.
After this confession he could no longer doubt that he had
mistaken Beatrix’s feelings towards him. He was silent for some
minutes, and then he exclaimed suddenly,—
‘That man was my cousin Cyril?’
‘He was.’
‘Then my cousin Cyril is a mean hound.’
‘Do you want me to hate you?’ cried Beatrix, angrily. ‘He is not
mean. He is all that is good and noble. Why should his pure life be
sullied by the taint that has fallen upon mine? He, a clergyman, could
not afford to take a wife whom men have suspected of evil. He is like
Cæsar. His wife must be above suspicion. He loved me once. He will
love me always, perhaps, a little better than all other women, as I
shall love him to the end of life above all other men. But he has
chosen something better in this life than a woman’s love. He has
given himself to the service of God. No unholy thing must come
within the veil of the temple. Nothing stained, not even with the
suspicion of sin, must enter there. A priest’s wife must be spotless.’
‘If he could suspect you,’ exclaimed Kenrick, vindictively, ‘he is
unworthy——’
‘Oh, for pity’s sake do not suggest that,’ interrupted Beatrix. ‘I
cannot believe that he could suspect me, having once known and
loved me. It was not his suspicion, but the evil thoughts of others,
that parted us.’
‘Then he is a coward,’ cried Kenrick, honestly angry. ‘A man’s
choice of his wife is a question of life or death for himself. He is both
craven and fool if he allows other people to be the arbiters of his
fate.’
 ‘But you do not understand,’ urged Beatrix, pleading for the man
who had broken her heart. ‘It is his office——’
‘His office be——’
He might have said something very shocking if Mrs. Dulcimer had
not come in at this moment. She found Beatrix in tears, and Kenrick
pacing up and down the room with a distracted air. These two facts
indicated that something decisive had happened, and Mrs. Dulcimer
saw from Kenrick’s face that the something was of an unsatisfactory
nature.
‘How provoking!’ she thought. ‘It really seems as if no plan of mine
is to succeed.’
Beatrix did not appear at the tea-table. She sent an apology by
Rebecca. She had a headache, and would go to bed early. Kenrick
was absent-minded, and out of spirits. The meal, usually so cheerful,
was eaten in silence; Mr. Dulcimer had picked up a queer little
seventeenth century copy of Boileau at Great Yafford that morning,
and looked at the tail-pieces and initials as he took his tea.
‘Stop and smoke your cigar here, Ken,’ said Mrs. Dulcimer when
tea was over, and Sir Kenrick was about to follow his host to the
library.
‘But don’t you dislike smoke in this room?’
‘Not for once in a way. Your cigars are very mild, and Rebecca will
air the room well to-morrow morning. I want to have a chat with you.’
‘Delighted,’ said Kenrick, sitting down opposite Mrs. Dulcimer’s
work-table.
He had a shrewd suspicion of what was coming, but he felt that it
would comfort him to pour his woes into a friendly ear. He knew very
well that Mrs. Dulcimer had set her heart upon his marrying Miss
Harefield.
‘What had you been doing to make Beatrix cry?’ asked the Vicar’s
wife, coming straight to the point.
‘I had asked her to be my wife.’
 ‘What, they were tears of joy then?’ cried Mrs. Dulcimer.
‘Quite the contrary. She had rejected me flatly.’
‘Oh, Kenrick! But why?’
‘She did not condescend to enter very minutely into her reasons,
but I believe the principal one is that she doesn’t care for me.’
‘Oh, Kenrick,’ cried Mrs. Dulcimer, in exactly the same tone as
before. ‘What a pity!’
‘Yes, it’s regrettable. If my first thought were her fortune and the
good it would do to Culverhouse, I should deserve my fate. But that
is only my second thought. I love her very dearly. If she were the
poorest little nursery governess in the county I should love her just
the same, and would take her back to India with me, and work for
her and be happy with her all the days of my life.’
‘But her money would pay off those mortgages; as Lady
Culverhouse she would have a leading position in your part of the
country.’
‘She would be admired and adored,’ said Kenrick.
‘It would be in every way such a suitable match,’ protested Mrs.
Dulcimer, a remark she was in the habit of making about every pair
of young people whose footsteps she wished to direct to the
hymeneal altar. ‘Really human nature is very perverse.’
She remembered how ignominiously she had failed in her desire
to benefit Cyril and Bella; and here was this more important scheme
apparently doomed to failure.
‘It is very difficult to serve one’s fellow-creatures,’ she said
presently. ‘But this is not a business to be given up lightly, Kenrick.
This foolish girl is Mr. Dulcimer’s ward, and it is his duty to see her
advantageously settled in life. Now Clement is the very last man to
think of such a thing. He considers he has done his duty when he
has given Beatrix the run of his library.’
‘Yes,’ said Kenrick. ‘It is dear Dulcimer’s only fault to consider
books the beginning, middle, and end of life.’
 ‘Something must be done,’ declared Mrs. Dulcimer, with a sudden
accession of energy. ‘Beatrix ought to marry, and she ought to marry
a man of position. I cannot imagine a more suitable husband than
yourself. Come, Kenrick, be frank with me. You have not told me
everything. There must be some other reason. Don’t you remember
an admission Beatrix made at that dreadful inquest? There was a
love affair of which her father disapproved. Nothing but a prior
attachment could prevent her accepting you. I feel convinced it must
be that.’
‘It is that,’ answered Kenrick. ‘You can keep a secret, I suppose,
Mrs. Dulcimer?’
‘My dear Kenrick, I have kept hundreds.’
This was true, but Mrs. Dulcimer forgot to add how short a time
she had kept them. The Vicar’s wife’s secret of to-day was the town-
crier’s secret of to-morrow.
‘Then I’ll trust you with the clue to the mystery. There is a prior
attachment—to my cousin Cyril.’
‘Good heavens!’ exclaimed Mrs. Dulcimer. ‘Then that is why he
was so indifferent to poor Bella Scratchell, the very girl for him.’
‘He is a contemptible cur,’ said Kenrick.
He went on to abuse his cousin roundly. It was a good thing for
him, no doubt, that Cyril had behaved so badly, for it gave Kenrick
just the chance that Beatrix would put the false lover out of her mind
and marry the true one. He told Mrs. Dulcimer everything.
‘Something must be done,’ she said finally, and she made up her
mind that she, Selina Dulcimer, was the right person to undertake
the task.
 CHAPTER XII.
something must be done.
Before Sir Kenrick’s leave came to an end Mrs. Piper had gone to
the land where there are no sordid cares, no gnawing doubts as to
the honesty of servants, no heart-corroding regrets at the
wastefulness and expenditure of a large household. Mrs. Piper had
gone to that undiscovered country where we may fairly hope that for
those who have lived harmlessly upon earth all is peace. Mr. Piper
drove his smart little pony cart about the country roads and through
the village street as usual, but he wore an altered countenance and
crape to the top of his tall hat. He no longer had a noisy greeting for
every one, no longer quoted Jeremy Bentham or William Cobbett.
Never was widower more disconsolate than Ebenezer Piper.
Honestly and truly he mourned the careful partner of his youth and
maturity.
‘There wasn’t a finer girl in Great Yafford when me and she was
married,’ he said dolefully, after a brief eulogium of his faithful
Moggie’s domestic virtues.
Mrs. Piper’s monument was to be the glory of the village
churchyard. Mr. Dulcimer was too indulgent and easy to insist upon a
rigid æstheticism in the memorials which the living erected in honour
of the dead. There was a good deal of bad taste in God’s Acre at
Little Yafford, but Mr. Piper was destined to put the cap on the edifice
by the gaudiest and most expensive mausoleum that ever the chief
stonemason of Great Yafford had devised or executed.
It was to be a sarcophagus of the jewel casket shape, with four
twisted columns, like candlesticks, at the corners, and a tall urn
surmounting the lid. Each of the columns was of a different coloured
marble, the urn was dark red serpentine, with a malachite serpent
coiled round it. The urn was supposed to contain Mrs. Piper’s dust,
the serpent indicated that physicians and doctors’ stuff had not been
wanting in the effort to keep Mrs. Piper longer upon earth. Scattered
over the fluted lid of the sarcophagus were to be flowers sculptured
out of coloured marble, and cemented on to the white groundwork.
The sides of the sarcophagus were to be decorated with shields,
richly emblazoned with the Piper arms. Mr. Piper’s arms were his
own composition; his crest a ladder; his motto, Ex sese.
Altogether the monument was to be a wonderful thing, and Mr.
Piper felt a pride in contemplating the sketches which the mason had
caused to be made, and in picturing to himself the effect of the whole
when this great work of art should be finished.
The Piper children, in black frocks, and in a state of semi-
orphanage, were a little more troublesome than they had been in
coloured frocks, and with an invalid mamma as a court of appeal.
They brought the ghost of their lost parent into every argument.
‘I’m sure ma wouldn’t have wished me to learn three verbs in one
morning,’ said Elizabeth Fry.
‘I think ma would have let me off my lessons if I had a sick
headache,’ remonstrated Mary Wolstencroft.
‘I shall do my duty to you whether you like it or no,’ said Bella,
resolutely.
‘Ah, you’d better take care!’ cried Brougham. ‘Ma’s in heaven,
where she can see everything you’re up to, and won’t she make it
disagreeable for you when you get there! If you ever do,’ added the
boy, in a doubtful tone; ‘but I don’t think you stand much chance if
you go on making our lives a misery with Latin grammar.’
Now that poor Mrs. Piper had laid down her load of earthly care,
Miss Scratchell restricted her visits to the Park to purely professional
limits. She entered the schoolroom punctually at nine, and she left it
as punctually at half-past one. She no longer assisted at the
children’s early dinner, a meal which Mr. Piper, when at home,
shared under the name of luncheon. Bella had a keen sense of the
proprieties, and did not care to sit down to luncheon with a
disconsolate widower, or to give Mr. Piper any opportunity to pour his
griefs into her ear, as he would fain have done very often. Mr. Piper
was of a soft and affectionate nature, and when he told his griefs to a
young woman he could not refrain from taking her hand, and even
occasionally squeezing it. This Bella could not possibly permit. She
therefore carefully avoided all conversations about the late Mrs.
Piper, and, as far as was practicable, she avoided Mr. Piper himself.
‘It seems very ’ard,’ complained the widower, ‘that the time when a
man feels lonesomest is a time for everybody to avide him. You
might as well stop, Miss Scratchell, and eat your bit of dinner with
me and the children. You won’t get lamb and sparrowgrass at home.’
‘I know I shall not,’ replied Bella; ‘but I would rather not stay, thank
you, Mr. Piper.’
‘Why not?’
‘My mother wants me at home.’
‘She can’t want you more now than she did when pore Mrs. P——
was alive. You never refused to stop then.’
‘I did not like to refuse dear Mrs. Piper, when she was an invalid,
and wanted every one’s sympathy.’
‘You’re a good-’earted girl,’ said Piper, approvingly. ‘I know what
your motive is. You think it ain’t proper to eat your bit of dinner with
me, now I’m a widower, though there’s all the children to keep you in
countenance. You think it might set the old tabbies up street talking.’
‘It certainly does not require much to do that,’ replied Bella,
smiling. ‘But I really am wanted at home, Mr. Piper, and I mustn’t
stop talking here. I am going to drink tea at the Vicarage this
evening.’
‘Ah!’ sighed Air. Piper, ‘you’re a rum girl. It seems to me that
everybody wants you. I shall send you round a bundle of my early
sparrowgrass.’
‘Pray don’t take the trouble.’
‘Yes, I shall. It costs me about eighteen-pence a stick, so
somebody may as well have the enjoyment of it. But ’orticulture is
my ’obby.’
 It must be observed that although Mr. Piper was a student of
Cobbett, and had taught himself a little Latin, he had never been
able to conquer the mysteries of his own tongue. He still spoke as
bad English as in the days when he was a factory hand, and had
never read a passage of Cobbett’s strong racy prose, or pondered
over a thesis of Bentham’s.
Bella and Beatrix were good friends still, but not such friends as
they had been a year or even six months ago. There was a restraint
on both sides. Beatrix could not have told why it was, but it seemed
to her that there was a change in herself, and a still greater change
in Bella. Bella knew very well what it was that made her
uncomfortable in Miss Harefield’s society. It was the sealed letter in
its hiding-place in Bella’s shabby old bedroom. That sealed letter
weighed like a load of iron upon Bella’s conscience when she found
herself in Beatrix’s company; and yet she was glad that she had
done this thing, if it had been the means of parting Cyril and Beatrix.
She would like to have seen them parted even more irrevocably,
so that under no circumstances could time or chance bring them
together again. She was in this temper of mind when she went to
spend the evening at the Vicarage, after her little talk with Mr. Piper
in the stone portico at the Park.
It was about a week since Sir Kenrick had made his offer and had
been rejected. He had taken a wonderful fancy to fishing for pike
after that catastrophe, and had brought home some very handsome
specimens of that ravenous tribe, for the Vicarage cook to stuff and
bake, and serve with savoury sauces for the three o’clock dinner.
‘I think I shall have to protest, like the highland gillies when they
got too much salmon, if Kenrick goes on bringing home pike in this
way,’ said Mr. Dulcimer, when the cover was lifted and the hungry-
jawed scaly monster appeared before him.
Kenrick was off in the early gray to his fishing grounds, so he and
Beatrix only met of an evening. He was very polite to her, and
evidently bore no malice. Hope was not altogether extinguished in
his breast. He had much confidence in Mrs. Dulcimer, who had said
that something must be done. Kenrick had not the faintest idea what
this inveterate match-maker meant to do, but he felt that her
friendship would stick at nothing which a clergyman’s wife might do
without peril to her soul.
‘Bella,’ said Mrs. Dulcimer after tea, ‘I want to show you the things
I’ve made for the missionary basket. You might be able to help me a
little, perhaps.’
‘I shall be delighted, dear Mrs. Dulcimer,’ answered Bella, inwardly
lamenting that it had pleased God to call her to that station of life in
which her friends always felt themselves justified in asking her to
work for them.
A young woman of fortune like Miss Harefield might be as idle or
as selfish as she pleased. Nobody ever thought of asking for
payment in kind for any favour they showed her; but everybody who
did any kindness to penniless Bella Scratchell wanted to extort
recompense for his or her civility in needlework or some sort of
drudgery.
‘Come up to my room and look at the things, dear,’ said Mrs.
Dulcimer; and then it occurred to Bella that her hostess had
something particular to say to her. She had heard from Cyril that day,
perhaps, or had got news of him by a side wind. Bella’s heart beat
ever so fast at the idea.
They went up to Mrs. Dulcimer’s bedroom, a large old-fashioned
chamber, with an immense four-post bedstead and flowery chintz
curtains, a muslin-draped dressing-table, adorned with a great many
china pots, and a pin-cushion that was a noteworthy feature. Mrs.
Dulcimer’s devotional books—with a great many markers in them,
looking as if they were read immensely—were arranged on either
side of the looking-glass. She used to read Taylor’s ‘Holy Living’
while Rebecca put her hair in papers of an evening. She did not read
the ‘Holy Dying.’ It seemed a great deal too soon for that.
There was a bright fire, and the chintz-covered sofa was wheeled
in front of it. Between the fire and the sofa was Mrs. Dulcimer’s work-
table, and on the table the missionary basket full of ingenious trifles,
useful or useless. Babies’ socks, muffatees, pincushions of every
shape and design, and a variety of the aggravating family of mats.
‘Bella,’ said Mrs. Dulcimer, when they were seated on the sofa, ‘I
have something particular to say to you.’
And then the Vicar’s wife told Bella her plan for marrying Kenrick
and Beatrix, and how Beatrix had refused Kenrick on account of her
attachment to his cousin.
‘Isn’t it a pity, Bella?’ she asked, after lengthily expounding all this.
‘Yes,’ answered Bella, looking thoughtful, ‘they would have suited
each other very well, I should think.’
‘Think!’ cried Mrs. Dulcimer. ‘There’s no thinking about it. They
were made for each other.’
Mrs. Dulcimer’s couples always were made for each other. It is
odd how many of them turned out misfits.
Bella was reflecting that if Beatrix were happily married to Sir
Kenrick Culverhouse, her sin about the sealed letter would weigh
less heavily on her conscience—or, indeed, need not weigh at all.
What can any one ask more than happiness? And, in the eye of the
world, Kenrick was a much more suitable husband for a young
woman of fortune than Cyril could possibly be.
‘Now I have been thinking,’ continued Mrs. Dulcimer, sinking to a
mysterious undertone, ‘that perhaps if Beatrix could be made to think
that Cyril was fickle and inconstant, and that before he left Little
Yafford he had got to care for someone else—you, for instance,’
whispered Mrs. Dulcimer, making a little stab at Bella with her
forefinger, ‘it might cure her of her foolish attachment to him. It is
ridiculous that she should go on caring for a man who doesn’t love
her, when there is a noble young fellow who does love her
passionately, and can make her Lady Culverhouse. If she could only
be made to think that Cyril was fond of you, Bella, without actual
falsehood,’ concluded Mrs. Dulcimer, with a strong emphasis upon
the qualifying adjective, as much as to say that in so good a cause
she would not mind sailing rather near the wind.
 ‘I’m sure I don’t know how it is to be done,’ said Bella, with a
meditative air. ‘Beatrix is so self-opinionated. It is not as if she were a
weak-minded pliable girl. She is as hard as rock.’
‘But you are so clever, Bella. You could manage anything. If I were
to say now that I always thought Cyril was very fond of you—and I
did think so for a long time, as you know, dear—and if you were to
say something that would sustain that idea. We need neither of us
tell an actual story.’
‘Of course not,’ answered Bella, piously. ‘Do you suppose I would
tell a story, dear Mrs. Dulcimer?’
‘Indeed no, my love. I know how truthful you are.’
Thus it was agreed between the Vicar’s wife and her ductile
protégée that, somehow or other, Beatrix was to be persuaded that
her lover had been doubly false to her; false in abandoning her
because evil tongues maligned her, false in preferring another
woman.
 CHAPTER XIII.
‘a smile of thine shall make my bliss.’
By what serpentine twists and windings Bella Scratchell reached the
end she had in view need not be recorded. She was by nature a
creature of many curves, and all her progress in life was devious and
indirect. Enough that she succeeded in making Beatrix Harefield
believe her lost lover false and fickle, and thus undermined the girl’s
respect for the man who had renounced her. So long as Beatrix
could believe that Cyril had sacrificed his heart’s desire to his duty as
priest and teacher, she would have continued to reverence and love
him. Present or absent, he would have remained the one central
figure in her life. From the moment she was persuaded to think him
the shallow lover of a day—or indeed, worse than this, a lover who
had been drawn to her by the lure of her wealth, and who at the
bottom of his heart had always preferred Bella’s lilies and roses—
from that moment she despised him, and concentrated all the forces
of her mind in the endeavour to forget him.
‘I will never pray for him or his work again,’ she vowed to herself,
and the vow had all the savagery of a pagan oath. ‘His name shall
never pass my lips or find a place in my heart. It shall be to me as if
such a man had never lived.’
From this time there was a marked change in her manner. It was
brighter, gayer, harder than it had been before. That mournful
resignation which had distinguished her since her father’s death
gave place to a proud indifference, a careless scorn of all things and
all men, save the few friends she liked and trusted. That disgust of
life which attacks most of us at odd times, and which sometimes
afflicts even the young, had seized upon her. All things in this world
were hateful to her. Solomon, sated with wealth and glory, could not
have felt the emptiness of earthly joys more deeply than this girl of
nineteen, whose lips had scarcely touched the cup of life. She knew
herself rich, and with all good things at her disposal—beautiful
enough to command the love of men; and yet, because that one man
whom she loved had proved false and unworthy, she turned with a
sickened soul from all that earth held of hope or pleasure. Unhappily
she had not yet learned to look higher for comfort. She was not
irreligious. She firmly believed all her Church taught her to believe,
but she had not learned, like Hezekiah, to lay her trouble before the
Lord. She locked up her grief in her own heart, as something apart
from her spiritual life; and she went on conforming outwardly to all
the duties of religion, but deriving no inward solace from her faith.
Beatrix was in this mood when Mrs. Dulcimer, delighted at Bella’s
speedy success, but opining, nevertheless, that something more
must be done, was seized with a happy idea.
‘Kenrick,’ she exclaimed at tea one evening, when Kenrick had
announced his intention of going to have one more peep at
Culverhouse Castle before he embarked on board the P. and O.
steamship that was to carry him on the first stage of his journey to
India—‘Kenrick,’ cried Mrs. Dulcimer, with an excited air, ‘I really
think it is the oddest thing in the world.’
‘What, dear Mrs. Dulcimer?’ asked Kenrick, while everybody else
looked curious.
‘Why, that after knowing you all these years, and hearing you talk
so much about Culverhouse Castle, we should never have seen it.’
‘I don’t know whom you mean by we,’ said Mr. Dulcimer, ‘but I beg
to say that I spent three weeks at Culverhouse in one of my long
vacations, and a capital time I had there. The Avon is one of the
finest salmon rivers I ever fished in.’
‘Ah, that was in Kenrick’s father’s time,’ said Mrs. Dulcimer; ‘but
though you may be perfectly quainted with the place, Clement, I
have never seen it.’
‘That is your own fault,’ exclaimed Kenrick. ‘Nothing would make
me happier than to receive you there. It would be something in the
style of the famous reception at Wolf’s Crag, perhaps, especially if it
were in the close time for salmon; but you should have a hearty
welcome, and I shouldn’t feel my position so keenly as the Master of
Ravenswood felt his.’
‘There would be no Lucy Ashton in the case,’ put in the Vicar,
innocently.
‘And should we really not put you out if we came?’ asked Mrs.
Dulcimer.
‘Not the least in the world. You would have to live as plainly as
Eton boys, that is all. My housekeeper can roast a joint and boil a
potato. I think she might even manage a bit of fish, and a rhubarb
tart. We would not quite starve you, and I know you would be
charmed with the dear old place; but if you are coming you must
make up your minds very quickly. My time is up on the 24th.’
‘We could make up our minds in half an hour, if Clement would
consent,’ answered Mrs. Dulcimer, ‘It would be such a delightful
change for Beatrix. Mr. Namby has been recommending her a
change of air and scene for ever so long; and it is much too cold for
the sea-side. A week in Hampshire would do her a world of good.’
‘Pray do not think of me,’ said Beatrix, ‘I had rather go home while
you are away.’
‘I thought this was your home now, Beatrix,’ remonstrated the
Vicar.
‘It is the only house that has ever seemed like home,’ the heiress
answered, sadly.
‘Of course you will go with us, if we go,’ exclaimed Mrs. Dulcimer.
‘You are our adopted daughter, and we expect you to go everywhere
with us. We don’t even consult you. It is quite a matter of course. I
have set my heart on seeing Culverhouse Castle, and the visit will be
the very thing to do you good. I am sure Mr. Namby would say so if I
asked him about it. So, Clement dear, if you would let Mr. Rodger do
duty for just one Sunday, we might spend ten days at Culverhouse
very easily.’
Mr. Rodger was the new curate, a painstaking youth, with sandy
hair and a large round face like the setting sun.
 Mr. Dulcimer was at first disinclined to listen to his wife’s
suggestions. The journey was long and expensive, and there
seemed to be no justifiable reason for undertaking it; but the Vicar
was an indulgent husband, and he was very fond of salmon fishing,
so the discussion ended by his giving his consent, and it was
arranged that he and the two ladies should join Sir Kenrick at the
castle two days after the young man’s arrival there.
Beatrix consented to go to Culverhouse, just as she would have
consented to go to Buxton, Harrogate, or Scarborough, if Mrs.
Dulcimer had wished her to go there. That disgust of life which had
taken possession of her, since the overthrow of her faith in Cyril, left
her indifferent to all things. She let her maid pack a portmanteau,
and get all things ready for the journey. The girl, Mary, who had
waited upon her at the Water House, had accompanied her to the
Vicarage. She was not an accomplished attendant, but she was
faithful, and Beatrix liked her.
Culverhouse Castle was six miles from a railway station; one of its
chief merits, as Kenrick asserted proudly. He was standing on the
platform when the train arrived, and received his guests with as
much enthusiasm as if he had not seen them for a year or so. He
had a carriage ready to drive them across to Culverhouse.
It was a lovely drive in the spring evening, the sun setting behind
the wooded hills, and all the soft rustic scene steeped in warm yellow
light. Culverhouse was on the edge of the New Forest, and the road
from the station to the castle went through a region of alternate
pasture and woodland. Meadows and banks were yellow with
primroses; the earliest ferns were showing their tender green; the
dog-violets shone like jewels amongst the grass; and the woods
were full of white wind-flowers that shivered at every whisper of the
April breeze. To Beatrix it all seemed very lovely. She breathed more
freely in this unknown world, where nobody had ever spoken evil of
her. There was an infinite relief in having left Little Yafford.
When Culverhouse Castle rose before them on the other side of
the river, Beatrix thought it the loveliest place she had ever seen.
The Avon widened to a smooth lake, and beyond it rose the grave
old Gothic towers, like a castle in a fairy tale. Beatrix turned to
Kenrick, with the kindest smile she had ever bestowed upon him.
‘It is a delicious old place,’ she exclaimed. ‘I cannot wonder that
you are proud of it.’
Kenrick was delighted. His face glowed with pride of race and love
for the house of his birth. They were driving through the little village
street, all the old men and women, young men and maidens, doing
them obeisance as they passed. Then they crossed the bridge and
drove under the gateway, which was a couple of centuries older than
the castle itself, and a minute later Kenrick passed into the banquet-
hall of his ancestors, with Beatrix on his arm. He had offered his arm
to Mrs. Dulcimer, but that match-making matron had bidden him take
care of Miss Harefield, so he had the happiness of leading Beatrix
across the threshold. ‘Jest as if they’d been married and he’d been
a-bringin’ she home,’ old Betsy Mopson said afterwards to her
husband, gardener and man-of-all-work. ‘Her be a rare beauty, her
be.’
Kenrick had done wonders in his two days of preparation. He had
got in a brace of apple-faced young women, from the village, one a
housemaid out of place, the other her younger sister, still on her
promotion, but ready to do anything she was bidden. The old rooms
had been furbished up. Traces of decay were still visible in every
part of the house, but dust and cobwebs had been swept away, and
a general air of freshness and purity pervaded the good old rooms.
Beatrix was enraptured with everything. She seemed to forget her
sorrows amidst these new surroundings. Her life had been spent in a
prison-house, and this first taste of liberty was sweet. After all,
perhaps, even for her, deserted and cast off by the one man she had
ever loved, life held something worth having.
Kenrick led his young guest all round the ruins next morning,
before breakfast. They were both early risers, and had found each
other in the garden before Mr. and Mrs. Dulcimer had left their
rooms. They went into the cloistered quadrangle, where the roses
flourished in summertime, and where now the wallflowers flashed
golden and ruby upon the old gray stones, with colours as vivid as
the stained glass that had once filled the place with rainbow light.
Kenrick showed Beatrix the plan of the vanished abbey—the nave
here, the transept there, the chancel and apse beyond. Everything
was indicated by stones embedded at intervals in the close-cropped
turf, where the sheep browsed happily, unconscious of the sanctified
splendour that had preceded them, the white-robed choir, and
swinging censers, the banners and jewelled crosiers that had passed
beneath the Gothic arches which had once spanned that fair
pasture. Kenrick seemed as sorry for the evanishment of the abbey
as if he had been a papist of the deepest dye.
‘It is dreadful to think that a great part of the house is built out of
the abbey stones,’ he said. ‘I sometimes wonder it doesn’t tumble on
our heads. But tradition says the monks of Culverhouse were lazy
and ignorant, and that there was only one book, an ancient treatise
upon Hunting and Fishing, found in this abode of monastic learning,
when its treasures were confiscated.’
Beatrix had explored every inch of the grounds before the long-
disused gong, which in days past had called poor lonely Lady
Culverhouse to her anchorite repasts, sounded hoarsely from the
hall. Mr. and Mrs. Dulcimer were standing in the porch, scenting the
morning air, when Kenrick and his companion went in.
‘How well the dear girl looks!’ said the Vicar’s wife; ‘the change
has done her good already. You are enjoying Culverhouse, are you
not, Beatrix?’
‘I am very glad to be away from Little Yafford,’ Beatrix answered,
frankly.
‘In that case you ought never to go back,’ said Kenrick.
‘What a selfish remark!’ exclaimed Mrs. Dulcimer, hypocritically.
‘How do you suppose I am to exist without Beatrix, after having had
her as my adopted daughter for the last three months?’
‘What do you think of the weather for salmon-fishing?’ asked the
Vicar, contemplating the bright blue sky with a discontented look that
was hardly becoming in a Christian. ‘We could do with a little more
cloud, couldn’t we, Ken? But, as time is short, we must make the
best of things. I shall expect you to set off with me directly after
breakfast.’
‘I shall be delighted,’ answered Kenrick; but he did not mean to
give up his day to salmon-fishing.
He contrived to set the Vicar going, in a spot where there was
every chance of good sport, and then, under the pretence of having
orders to give about the dinner, ran home across the low-lying water
meadows like a boy let loose from school. He found Mrs. Dulcimer
expounding the chief features of the mansion—which she had never
seen before—to Beatrix, while Betty Mopson stood by in attendance
upon them, and made a running commentary, in a Hampshire
dialect, which was like a foreign language to the strangers from the
north.
‘Hah! Lady Culverhouse wur a good ’ooman,’ said Mrs. Mopson.
‘Thur bean’t many like she. This be the room where hur died. Her
wur a rale lady. And Sir Kenrick, him takes after she.’
Kenrick came in time to hear his praises. He sent Betty back to her
kitchen.
‘We shall not get a decent luncheon if you waste all your morning
chattering here, Betty,’ he said, and Betty departed, grinning and
ducking, and with a fixed idea that the young lady with the dark
‘haiyur,’ was to be the next Lady Culverhouse.
Kenrick spent a happy day in attendance upon the two ladies. He
forgot everything, in the intoxicating delight of the present, forgot that
this holiday in life was to be of the briefest, and that a fortnight hence
he was to be tossing off Gibraltar in a Peninsular and Oriental
steamer. Beatrix seemed happy also, or, at least, she appeared to be
in a condition of placid contentment which was not unpromising.
The Vicar was successful with his rod, and came home radiant.
Betty Mopson had surpassed herself in the preparation of a
substantial English dinner. Everything went smoothly and well with
Sir Kenrick.
Next day he carried off his guests to see some of the lions of the
neighbourhood—a fine old abbey church sorely neglected—a castle