Obrazy na stronie
PDF
ePub

concealment had made her an inveterate | in taking Alley's part from mere good-nature, bigot, and poor Mrs. W. was perfectly amaz- had been led on to a criminal intimacy, the ed at the virulence she displayed. To send news reached his wife, and she left his house her back to Ireland was immediately resolv- on the instant, without explanation on either ed on, and in the mean time she was placed side. Mrs. W. spoke much of the great sin at a lodging in the neighbourhood, as Mrs. her husband had committed, and tried to Wyndham would not allow her to remain in think it was on that account she was printhe family another hour. Poor Anna! though cipally concerned; but it was easy to see the I regret her disappointment, yet it must be woman's feelings under it all. After a long confessed that no great advantage could visit, I left for town, with a commission to reasonably be expected from compelling an arrange money matters for a separation. outward conformity to the Protestant creed. Though reasons be as plenty as blackberries, most people have Falstaff's dislike to be convinced on compulsion.

On hearing of Alley's dismissal, Mr. Wyndham seemed to think it rather a hard case. In fact he was far from sharing in the strict notions of the "Misthress," and with his usual good-nature he managed to delay the girl's journey, in the hope of bringing about an accommodation.

June 7.-Note from Mrs. W., dated "Stamford Hill," requesting to see me immediately. Stamford Hill, how very odd.

8th. Called on Mr. Wyndham at his office-a very awkward meeting. He did not deny the reports about himself and Alley, but dwelt upon the sudden manner in which Mrs. W. had quitted her home without a word of explanation; talked of her strict notions, and her expecting every body to be perfect, &c. The mention of a separation startled him; "but if she wished it, he should not object; whatever arrangement I thought right he would enter into; she might have the house in Bedford Square, if desired, and little Mary to stay with her of course. Everything she wished should be done," he said, in the tone of one who, feeling himself in the wrong, tries to become the injured party by a boundless generosity of atonement.

It was three o'clock before I was able to leave my office, and get upon one of the Tottenham coaches, at the Flower-pot, Bishopsgate Street, and in half an hour more I After all, the case is not so bad. Wyndwas set down at a house on Stamford Hill, ham is evidently a well-meaning man, enscreened from the road by evergreens and snared by an artful girl, and I see no suffi. flowering shrubs, with here and there a lime- cient reason for a separation. If Alley is tree or sycamore. On entering the drawing-packed off to Ireland, why Anna must forroom, Mrs. Wyndham received me more give and forget this time." ceremoniously than usual, and introduced me to the lady of the house, a starched primlooking spinster, with a great frill about her neck, and a sort of net cap over her hair. A most interesting conversation followed as to the weather, the situation, advantage of a garden, &c. until I brought matters to a crisis, by asking for Mr. Wyndham. Anna coloured violently, and her friend drew up into an attitude of appalling severity.

"Ahem," she began, "ahem! I am sorry to inform you, sir, that Mr. Wyndham has been guilty of the most shocking conduct. It is scarcely to be credited, with such a home as his, that he could have dreamed of such a thing-so disgraceful-so abominably wicked-so

[ocr errors]

14th. After several interviews with both parties, I thought matters were coming round. The difficulty was all with Mrs. Wyndham; her personal feelings and religious principles were both outraged, and Wyndham's character was too feeble to obtain that hold over a woman's affections which soon turns the scale in such a cause. However, Anna's ideas seemed to be unreasonably severe; and this morning we had a long conversation, in which I told her plainly that she thought more of her wounded pride than of her duties as a wife, and that she was influenced in her resolution to separate partly by hatred to the Catholics, against whom she indulged an indiscriminating bitterness. The discussion grew warm, and for the first time we parted coldly; she affected not to see the hand I held out to her, and bid me good morning with an air of great reserve. I suppose my manner showed how much I was hurt, for, just as I was passing through the gate in front, Anna beckoned to me from the balcony, to return, met me I was thunderstruck at this announcement. in the hall, gave me some little commission "Yes," she continued, in great excite- in a hurried manner, and shook hands twice ment, "he has broken through the laws of most warmly. Ah! there is nothing like a God and man for the sake of that abandoned native kindness of heart-tamen expellas girl, that serpent I cherished so long to sting furcâ, usque recurrit. me at last. But I might have known it—I might have known it: a Papist must be a hypocrite-the Ethiopian cannot change his skin-the mark of the beast is upon them all."

Here Mrs. Wyndham suddenly looked up from her work, and interrupted the good lady's invective. "You are surprised, no doubt, to see me here," she said, in a steady voice, but circumstances of the most painful nature have compelled me to leave Mr. Wyndham's house-never to return."

[ocr errors]

The truth was soon told. Mr. Wyndham,

20th.-Well, it is all over. There is to be a separation after all. Such folly as Mr. Wyndham's I never met with in any human being. Three days ago he seemed to wish for a reconciliation above all things, talked of his attachment to Anna, and how much

he felt the loss of his home. I thought it | Ellen by my side, for a six weeks' ramble in was all right on his part at any rate, and to- Westmoreland. It is a delightful sensation, day he sends me this letter !

"MY DEAR SIR,

"I fear you will scarcely comprehend the feelings which have induced me to take a step which, to one of your strong mind and professional prudence, must appear a little singular. But we are not our own masters; circumstances have involved me in such a way, that I must either incur the censure of the world on the one hand, or of my own heart on the other. I cannot desert one whose only fault is her affection for me, especially as she is a helpless girl, whom I have rendered more helpless; and though I shall ever feel a deep interest in Mrs. Wyndham's welfare, and a high respect for her character, still, to close the heart against all other attachments is not always in the power of human frailty. Under these circumstances a separation is unavoidable. My income is about 1,000l. a year, which I am ready to divide; and with this and the company of her child I hope and trust she will find a happier home than that of her unfortunate husband.

“I remain, very truly yours, "EDWARD WYNDHAM." 21st. Just heard that he has taken a house at Islington, and that Alley is to be housekeeper. I should like to know whether he is a fool or a scoundrel. What is to be done? It is no use temporising; I may as well send the letter to Anna at once.

22d.-Note from Stamford Hill. Shocked and irritated (of course)-never see him more -pity infatuation-abandoned girl-leave terms of separation to me, &c.

30th.-Everything finished, and deeds signed; 400l. a year to Mrs. W. for life, and 5,000l. settled on the child, if she attain twenty-one, or be married, &c.

Soon after this arrangement, Mrs. W. finding her child's health rather delicate, took a cottage at Streatham, in Surrey, a few miles from London. There she passed her time in bringing up little Mary, and in "visiting the fatherless and the widow in their affliction ;" and there too her own heart was schooled into kindlier feelings towards those of a dif. ferent creed by the gentle thoughts and calming influence of solitude. She was sadder but wiser, and far better fitted than before to enter on the path of suffering.

During this period Mr. Wyndham contented himself with seeing his child at intervals, giving notice of his intended visits, so that Mrs. W. might absent herself from the cottage. He was still living at Islington, and Alley with him, as housekeeper. From all I can learn, the latter carries matters with a high hand, and is "mistress and more."

a

From about the middle of August until October, there is (or rather was, before the recent changes,) à general pause in the legal world; and every one who knows what a place London is at that season, will appreciate the exultation with which I set off, with

the starting on a fine day upon an excursion we have been dreaming of for months. There is an exhilaration-a sense of enjoyment—a brightening of the soul,-as the houses change into fields, and hedge-rows, and vigo rous trees; the heart laughs to see them with an infant's unreasoning joy. It was the first trip we had made since our marriage, and few people enjoyed themselves more while ber arrived, I returned to London without it lasted; yet I must avow, that when Octoany reluctance. Jam satis terris,—I had had enough of the country, and really entered my office once more with great satisfaction. relish for simple pleasures, and for matters Habits of business do certainly diminish the of taste or refinement; but it is by imprintthat the duties of life are more important than ing on the mind the great moral principle, its pleasures; and though many "spend their labour for that which is not bread," yet inidleness essentially vicious. dustry must ever be essentially moral, and

Oct. 7th.-Went to Streatham, and heard from Mrs. Wyndham that her husband goes to the Catholic chapel regularly! Mary but a slight little thing for a girl five years old. The cottage a pretty place, with a garden round it, and the common in front.

[ocr errors]

Dec. 2d.-At six this evening a hackney coach drove up to my door, and Mrs. Wyndham entered in great agitation. They have taken her from me," she said;-" my child-she is carried off-gone, gone-I shall never see her more!"

"Who has taken her?" I inquired; "where is she gone to?"

"I do not know-I do not know," she went on, wringing her hands in despair; “they have taken her from me-she is very ill-she will die without me to nurse her," &c.; nor for some minutes could I get anything from her but these inccherent exclamations. The fright had affected her senses, and she trembled all over. At last I shook her roughly by the arm, and insisted on knowing distinctly what had occurred; and she then recovered herself so far as to give me the leading particulars.

It seems Mr. Wyndham had appointed two o'clock that day for one of his usual visits to Mary, and that Mrs. W. had betaken herself to the Parsonage, leaving the child with her nurse. In half an hour the nurse came running over to say that Mr. Wyndham had driven Mary away with him. He had taken her out for a walk, accompanied by the servant, and on reaching the inn, where there was a phaeton and pair, with a lady in it, he lifted the child in, and drove off before the nurse knew very well what he was doing. It is therefore clear that the child is safe enough, though it was a rascally thing of W. to kidnap her in that sudden way; and what his object can be I do not exactly see. However, if he thinks to detain her, he is mistak en: a habeas corpus will soon settle that point, I fancy. After a while Mrs. Wynd

ham began to look at the matter reasonably, Well! I never was more astonished! It and to comprehend the real state of affairs; seemed too clear a point to employ counsel but as she was naturally anxious to hear upon, and even now I cannot but think Mr. something of her child, I called a coach, and Justice has fallen into a strange erproceeded forthwith to Canonbury Square, ror. However, I shall draw up a case immeIslington, where Mr. W. resided. diately for the Attorney-General's opinion, and see what he says about it. Perhaps, after all, this doctrine about the father's absolute right is but the crotchet of a junior barrister, got up to puzzle such an old woman of a judge as ; it is utterly unreason

On entering the front parlour, I caught a glimpse of some one in a light blue dress, standing on the kitchen stairs,-no doubt the lady of the phaeton. A sight of her by no means increased my good humour; and as Mr. Wyndham assumed a very lofty air, our meeting was of a decidedly hostile character, where question fierce and proud reply" led to the usual result of irritation and anger on both sides. The child was with him, and should remain-he was her father, and had a right to keep her-what business had I to interfere ?-if he chose to take her without warning, it was to prevent annoyance about it-whether Alley was in the phaeton or not, was nothing to me-he would not bear such meddling, &c. I, on the other hand, completely lost temper, abused him and his mistress without reserve, taunted him as the dupe of an artful girl, and wound up by assuring him he should soon be taught that the law would not transfer an infant girl from its mother's care to that of a profligate father; and off I went in a rage, nearly oversetting Miss Alley, who had been listening, no doubt, at the keyhole.

able.

Mem. Mrs. W. terribly disappointed at the result, and the more so from seeing how much my confidence has abated. My thermometer is at least ten degrees lower than yesterday.

8th.-The Attorney-general has sent his opinion-dead against us. He thinks we have no remedy at law; that the absolute right of custody is with the father; that his adultery, and living with another woman, make no difference; and that the wife has no right at all to the possession of the child's person, nor even to occasional access, unless, perhaps, in the case of an infant within the age of nurture. He adds, that in strong cases the Court of Chancery will sometimes interfere; but as in the present instance there is no sentence of divorce for adultery, no judicial separation, and no other charges against the father's character, he doubts very much whether the chancellor would give any relief.

3d.-Drew affidavits for habeas corpus, and went before Mr. Justice at his chambers. Got order for writ. Certainly 9th.-Sent the case and opinions to Mr. S. a hab. corp. is very satisfactory-a ready, of the Chancery bar. Poor Anna is staying efficient, off-hand way of settling matters with us, and has been several times to see always to be had, and no delay. That her little girl, who is but poorly. The genJudge though, is almost superannu- tleman and his housekeeper have at least the ated; what did he mean by shaking his head good taste to be absent on these occasions. as he looked over the affidavits? The thing 10th. Mr. S.'s opinion, substantially the is as clear as daylight. same as the Attorney-general's; but to make Issued and served the hab. corp. writ to-assurance doubly sure, I went to consult day, (Tuesday,) 4 P. M. A return must be made by Thursday, and then we shall see who is to have the child.

him at his chambers, and learn, if possible, the reasons for such gross and glaring injustice, for such it most certainly is. He says that in law a wife is only the servant of the husband; that she has no property, generally speaking, and is not liable for the children's maintenance, which alone would be a good ground for giving the father exclusive control; but that the rule has also been established from considerations of policy, in order to prevent separations for slight or temporary causes.

5th.-Attended at the judge's chambers. Mr. Wyndham, in obedience to the writ, brought up the little girl. Some barrister appeared on his behalf, and argued broadly that a father had an exclusive right to the possession and control of children, and that it was no matter whether he was an adulter. er or not, since he was still liable for the child's maintenance, and had not waived his right at common law! In vain I urged This is just the old doctrine of expediency; the gross injustice of allowing the criminal the mother's right is inconvenient, therefore husband to deprive the wife of her children's it shall be taken away. And what stuff is society, and the gross immorality also of this about discouraging separations by holdtransferring a female child to the care of a kept mistress; the judge was clearly against me, and it was only by importunity I at length obtained a reference to the full court, on an undertaking to show by affidavit that Mr. W. was living with a mistress. It was agreed that in the meantime Mrs. Wyndham should have reasonable access to see Mary, who was herself to go back to Mr. W.'s house until the 15th of January, when term begins.

ing out to married men the prospect of indul ging in every vice with impunity, so long as the measure of their iniquity does not exceed the endurance of a mother's love?

28th.-On a full and cool review of the whole affair, it seemed to me that I had gone on a wrong tack altogether. Right or wrong, the law was against the mother's claim; she was delivered up, bound hand and foot, to the Philistines, and her course evidently was to make terms with her husband before he was

quite set against her. From my want of convinced that she was suffering under temper on the previous occasion I was likely some extraordinary trial, I sat down beto prove a bad agent in such a business, and side her; she suffered me to take her in consequence Mrs. Wyndham wrote a let- hand, and raise her head without oppositer herself, announcing the abandonment of tion-it was the dusk of a bright May evenall legal proceedings, and appealing in the ing, and the "clear obscure" half veiled most submissive manner to Mr. Wyndham's her face, still "wet with the shower" of justice and generosity. The result was a grief. I spoke to her of our long friendsort of compromise; Mary being sent to a ship, and of old times; she was just in that school in the neighbourhood, and her mother mood when the heart being allowed to see her constantly, on giving a solemn promise not to attempt a removal. Mrs. Wyndham immediately gave up her cottage, and took a small house at Pentonville, in order to be near her child.

[ocr errors]

Three months passed away without any change in the state of affairs. Mrs. W. was often with us, and seemed tolerably cheerful, though her peculiar situation gave a touching interest to her soft and innate gentleness. Yet the worm in the bud" was gradually making its ravages: she grew thin and pale, her fine eyes were sunk and watery, and fits of abstraction in society frequently occurred. Ellen, too, says that her way of living is poor and comfortless in the extreme, and I suspect that she is either saving money on some scheme for her child's benefit, or that she spends the greater part of her income in charity.

[ocr errors]

Towards the end of March, Mary had an attack of fever, and was removed from school to her father's house, where, however, Mrs. Wyndham had full access to her. It must have been a grief to the mother's heart to see her sick child only under the roof of a husband who had deserted her, and where her own menial now flaunted as mistress. Yet, whenever I alluded to the subject, she invariably shrank from inquiry, though day by day the load of hidden sorrow became heavier to bear. Several weeks elapsed without any improvement in Mary's health; but, towards the end of April, Mrs. W. informed us that her husband, while attending his child's sick bed, had himself taken the fever, and was confined to his room.

"Opens all itself, without the power

Of wholly calling back its self-control," and then I learned for the first time what she had undergone for the sake of her child.

It has been already mentioned that Mary was sent to school, and remained there until March. During this period Mrs. Wyndham received an intimation from Alley that Mr. W. could not afford to pay for the child's schooling, and that she would be taken home unless the funds for keeping her were supplied. This was done by Anna so readily, that it probably induced the "housekeeper" to carry her demands farther. Mr. Wyndham was evidently spending at least double his income, chiefly in dress, parties to the opera, going to races, and so on, to gratify Alley's vanity and love of pleasure; money had become a scarce article, and advantage was taken of Mary's illness to force from her mother a part of the 400l. a year secured on the separation. In one of her visits she found Alley in the little girl's room; Mrs. W. drew back, expecting she would retire; but, on the contrary, the brazenfaced thing tossed her head, and told her to come in or not as she pleased, but that she herself should remain. Mrs. Wyndham indignantly went away, and wrote to Mr. W., who seemed by his reply extremely angry, and assured her nothing of the kind should again occur. Yet within a week there was Alley again, triumphing in the way she had brought round her imbecile master, and positively declaring she would be present at all interviews between mother May 3d-Not having seen anything of and child. The scheme answered as it Mrs. Wyndham since last Tuesday, I was meant; Mrs. W. was actually obliged called at Pentonville this evening (Sunday), to bribe her husband's mistress from time and found her at home. The alteration in to time, for leave to visit the sick-bed of her appearance quite startled me, and I her little girl. This, then, was the secret spoke to her very seriously about attending of the poor way in which she had been liv. to her health. She replied at first in a low ing.] Nor was this all. Mr. Wyndham, quiet tone, then listened without making as already stated, had turned Catholic, and any return, and at length surprised and every attempt was made to impress the shocked me greatly by an outburst of vehe- father's new-learned creed upon his child. ment sorrow, such as I never witnessed be- Mrs. W. was distressed beyond measure fore. She buried her face in the sofa pil- when she found Alley one morning by the lows, and wept and sobbed with uncontrol- bedside, teaching little Mary to say her lable violence: her slight frame shook and prayers before an image of the Virgin. shuddered beneath the rush of long-re. Her remonstrances, however, were only pressed emotion; there was an abandon- answered by the malignant remark, that ment, an utter prostration of soul, the more she now knew what it was to have people frightful from its contrast to her usual abusing one's religion, and making every. gentleness. When the storm had passed body go their own way; that if she was a away, she lay exhausted and motionless; heretic, Mary would be a good Catholic I let her remain so for some time, and then, like her papa, and that for her part she

thought the less Mrs. W. came there the better. This occurred but a few days ago, and the fear of total exclusion from her child under such circumstances, added to the constant sense of humiliation and unhappiness, had almost broken poor Anna's heart.

Such abominable rascality was beyond endurance. Learning from Anna that Mr. W.'s illness was not serious, I posted off to Canonbury Square, determining to do something without exactly knowing what. The servant said that Mr. Wyndham was very ill, and could see no one; but I forced my way into the hall in spite of her, when Alley in an impudent manner repeated the

assertion.

"Get out of the way, you wretched creature," said I, pushing her aside, and making for the stairs.

66 Andy, Andy!" she called, and a strapping Irishman came running up the kitchen stairs. He threatened to throw me 66 out o' window," and made so much disturbance that the patient's door opened, and some one called out, "What is all that noise?" "Ah, doctor," said I, knowing his voice, "how is Mr. Wyndham to-night?"

"He is dying," replied Dr. Bowles, sternly, "and this noise and riot is most disgraceful."

The announcement silenced all parties; I ran up stairs, hastily sketched the state of affairs, and requested his deliberate opinion.

"I do not think he will live twenty-four hours," was the startling reply; he had, in fact, been dangerously ill for some time, and Mrs. Wyndham had been misled by the wretches about him for their own purposes, no doubt.

I was down stairs again in a minute. "Remember," I said, threateningly, to the group in the hall, "that in case of Mr. Wyndham's death everything here belongs to Mrs. Wyndham, and whoever removes a single article will be sent to jail." Ran up to the High Street, and called a coach. Poor Anna! poor Anna! how will she bear it so suddenly!

It was ten o'clock when I returned with her to Canonbury Square: after the first shock she recovered her composure wonderfully. The same servant-maid opened the door for us. "Mr. W. was delirious, the doctor still with him." I left Anna in little Mary's room, and went to make in quiries.

I find they are all gone-Alley, servants and all, except the girl who let us in. During the hour I was away, the gang made the best of their time, and went off with everything they could lay their hands on, jewellery, plate, &c. Well, well-there is death in the house, and I cannot think of these things now. If this girl's stories are true, Alley is even worse than I thought her.

That man I saw, she says, has long been one of her "followers."

11 o'clock-Dr. Bowles just gone; I have

taken his place by the patient's bedside. He is conscious of nothing, but rambles on in a string of incoherent remarks, or lies picking threads from the bed-clothes. I have sent for Ellen to nurse him.

12 o'clock-The door opened, and Mrs. Wyndham looked in. I signed to her that she might enter. She wept a good deal on first seeing him lying sick and helpless in mind and body; then observing the slovenly look of his room, she set to work quietly arranging everything in order, clearing the table of phials and pill boxes which lay about, shading the lamp from the sick man's eyes, and smoothing the disordered bedclothes. It was affecting to see his neglected wife attending like a ministering spirit to the wants of her dying husband.

2 o'clock-Persuaded Mrs. Wyndham to lie down in little Mary's room, while Ellen and I kept watch over the patient. He seems inclined to sleep.

6 o'clock-He still sleeps. Sent Ellen to bed, and desired the girl to remain in the room while I went to shave, &c.

On my return I found Mr. Wyndham awake and sensible. He had asked for Alley, and the girl had told him bluntly that she was gone away, and that Mrs. Wyndham was in the house. He seemed stunned for a time, as if his brain could hardly comprehend his wife's presence and Alley's desertion.

"Gone-left me!" he muttered with a bewildered air; "she could not do it-no, no, she could not! Ah!" he said with a brightened eye, as a female entered, "here she comes." But it was Anna, who, thinking him still delirious, stood at his bedside. She saw at once that he knew her, though he lay quite silent, rolling his eyes about, and breathing heavily. She asked him how he felt-no answer came; she bent over him and smoothed his pil low-still he spoke not; she told him she was come to nurse him, and would have come long before, had she known his danger. Still ah! yes-there is an answer now-he has turned his face to the wall, and the tears fall on his pillow like summer rain.

I left the room immediately after, feeling that the reconciliation of an injured wife with her dying husband could bear no witness save one alone.

When Ellen and I ventured in again, the poor patient had fallen into a doze, with Anna beside him, holding his hand in hers. She beckoned us not to speak, as if she could not bear the sound of a voice just then, or feared it might break his slumber. For two hours she kept her post, hoping for another opportunity to soothe his parting spirit; but it was useless-he never woke again.

*

*

*

*

When the funeral was over, Mrs. Wyndham and her little girl once more retired to the cottage at Streatham, and to the peaceful life of other days. The thought

« PoprzedniaDalej »