The Experiences of a Barrister, and Confessions of an Attorney Part 4

The news that an action had been brought on behalf of an infant son of the late Sir Harry Compton against the Earl of Emsdale, for the recovery of the estates in the possession of that n.o.bleman, produced the greatest excitement in the part of the county where the property was situated. The a.s.size town was crowded, on the day the trial was expected to come on, by the tenantry of the late baronet and their families, with whom the present landlord was by no means popular. As I pa.s.sed up the princ.i.p.al street, towards the court-house, accompanied by my junior, I was received with loud hurraings and waving of handkerchiefs, something after the manner, I suppose, in which chivalrous steel-clad knights, about to do battle in behalf of distressed damsels, were formerly received by the miscellaneous spectators of the lists. Numerous favors, c.o.c.kades, streamers, of the Compton colors, used in election contests, purple and orange, were also slyly exhibited, to be more ostentatiously displayed if the Emsdale party should be beaten. On entering the court, I found it crowded, as we say, to the ceiling. Not only every seat, but every inch of standing-room that could be obtained, was occupied, and it was with great difficulty the ushers of the court preserved a sufficiently clear s.p.a.ce for the ingress and egress of witnesses and counsel. Lord Emsdale, pale and anxious, spite of manifest effort to appear contemptuously indifferent, sat near the judge, who had just entered the court. The Archbishop of York, whom we had subpoenaed, why, his Grace had openly declared, he knew not, was also of course accommodated with a seat on the bench. A formidable bar, led by the celebrated Mr. S ----, was, I saw, arrayed against us, though what the case was they had to meet, so well had Ferret kept his secret, they knew no more than did their horse-hair wigs. Ferret had solemnly enjoined the sisters to silence, and no hint, I need scarcely say, was likely to escape my lips. The jury, special of course, were in attendance, and the case, "Doe, demise of Compton _versus_ Emsdale," having been called, they were duly sworn to try the issue. My junior, Mr. Frampton, was just rising "to state the case," as it is technically called, when a tremendous shouting, rapidly increasing in volume and distinctness, and mingled with the sound of carriage wheels, was heard approaching, and presently Mr. Samuel Ferret appeared, followed by Lady Compton and her son, the rear of the party brought up by Sir Jasper Thornely, whose jolly fox-hunting face shone like a full-blown peony. The lady, though painfully agitated, looked charmingly; and the timid, appealing glance she unconsciously, as it were, threw round the court, would, in a doubtful case, have secured a verdict. "Very well got up, indeed," said Mr. S ----, in a voice sufficiently loud for the jury to hear--"very effectively managed, upon my word." We were, however, in too good-humor to heed taunts; and as soon as silence was restored, Mr.

Frampton briefly stated the case, and I rose to address the jury. My speech was purposely brief, business-like, and confident. I detailed the circ.u.mstances of the marriage of Violet Dalston, then only eighteen years of age, with a Mr. Grainger; the birth of a son; and subsequent disappearance of the husband; concluding by an a.s.surance to the jury that I should prove, by incontrovertible evidence, that Grainger was no other person than the late Sir Harry Compton, baronet. This address by no means lessened the vague apprehensions of the other side. A counsel that, with such materials for eloquence, disdained having recourse to it, must needs have a formidable case. The smiling countenances of Mr. S ---- and his brethren became suddenly overcast, and the pallor and agitation of Lord Emsdale sensibly increased.

We proved our case clearly, step by step: the marriage, the accouchement, the handwriting of Grainger--Bilston proved this--to the letters addressed to his wife, were clearly established. The register of the marriage was produced by the present clerk of the Leeds church; the initials Z.Z. were pointed out; and at my suggestion the book was deposited for the purposes of the trial with the clerk of the court. Not a word of cross-examination had pa.s.sed the lips of our learned friends on the other side: they allowed our evidence to pa.s.s as utterly indifferent.

A change was at hand.

Our next witness was James Kirby, groom to the late baronet and to the present earl. After a few unimportant questions, I asked him if he had ever seen that gentleman before, pointing to Mr. Ferret, who stood up for the more facile recognition of his friend Kirby.

"Oh yes, he remembered the gentleman well; and a very nice, good-natured, soft sort of a gentleman he was. He treated witness at the "Albemarle Arms," London, to as much brandy and water as he liked, out of respect to his late master, whom the gentleman seemed uncommon fond of."

"Well, and what return did you make for so much liberality?"

"Return! very little I do a.s.sure ye. I told un how many horses Sir Harry kept, and how many races he won; but I couldn't tell un much more, pump as much as he would, because, do ye see, I didn't _know_ no more."

An audible t.i.tter from the other side greeted the witness as he uttered the last sentence. Mr. S ----, with one of his complacent glances at the jury-box, remarking in a sufficiently loud whisper, "That he had never heard a more conclusive reason for not telling in his life."

"Did you mention that you were present at the death of the late baronet?"

"Yes I did. I told un that I were within about three hundred red yards of late master when he had that ugly fall; and that when I got up to un, he sort of pulled me down, and whispered hoa.r.s.e-like, 'Send for Reverend Zachariah Zimmerman.' I remembered it, it was sich an outlandish name like."

"Oh, oh," thought I, as Mr. S ---- reached across the table for the parish register, "Z.Z. is acquiring significance I perceive."

"Well, and what did this gentleman say to that?"

"Say? Why, nothing particular, only seemed quite joyful 'mazed like; and when I asked un why, he said it was such a comfort to find his good friend Sir Harry had such pious thoughts in his last moments."

The laugh, quickly suppressed, that followed these words, did not come from our learned friends on the other side.

"Sir Harry used those words?"

"He did; but as he died two or three minutes after, it were of course no use to send for no parson whatsomever."

"Exactly. That will do, unless the other side have any questions to ask."

No question _was_ put, and the witness went down. "Call," said I to the crier of the court--"call the Reverend Zachariah Zimmerman."

This was a bomb-sh.e.l.l. Lord Emsdale, the better to conceal his agitation, descended from the bench and took his seat beside his counsel. The Reverend Zachariah Zimmerman, examined by Mr. Frampton, deponed in substance as follows:--"He was at present rector of Dunby, Shropshire, and had been in holy orders more than twenty years. Was on a visit to the Reverend Mr. Cramby at Leeds seven years ago, when one morning Mr.

Cramby, being much indisposed, requested him to perform the marriage ceremony for a young couple then waiting in church. He complied, and joined in wedlock Violet Dalston and Henry Grainger. The bride was the lady now pointed out to him in court; the bridegroom he had discovered, about two years ago, to be no other than the late Sir Harry Compton, baronet. The initials Z.Z. were his, and written by him. The parish clerk, a failing old man, had not officiated at the marriage; a nephew, he believed, had acted for him, but he had entered the marriage in the usual form afterwards."

"How did you ascertain that Henry Grainger was the late Sir Harry Compton?"

"I was introduced to Sir Harry Compton in London, at the house of the Archbishop of York, by his Grace himself."

"I remember the incident distinctly, Mr. Zimmerman," said his Grace from the bench.

"Besides which," added the rector, "my present living was presented to me, about eighteen months since, by the deceased baronet. I must further, in justice to myself, explain that I immediately after the introduction, sought an elucidation of the mystery from Sir Harry; and he then told me that, in a freak of youthful pa.s.sion, he had married Miss Dalston in the name of Grainger, fearing his uncle's displeasure should it reach his ears; that his wife had died in her first confinement, after giving birth to a still-born child, and he now wished the matter to remain in oblivion. He also showed me several letters, which I then believed genuine, confirming his story. I heard no more of the matter till waited upon by the attorney for the plaintiff, Mr. Ferret."

A breathless silence prevailed during the delivery of this evidence. At its conclusion, the dullest brain in court comprehended that the cause was gained; and a succession of cheers, which could not be suppressed, rang through the court, and were loudly echoed from without. Sir Jasper's voice sounding high above all the rest. Suddenly, too, as if by magic, almost everybody in court, save the jury and counsel, were decorated with orange and purple favors, and a perfect shower of them fell at the feet and about the persons of Lady Compton, her sister, who had by this time joined her, and the infant Sir Henry. As soon as the expostulations and menaces of the judge had restored silence and order, his lordship, addressing Lord Emsdale's senior counsel, said, "Well, Brother S ----, what course do you propose to adopt ?"

"My lord," replied Mr. S ---- after a pause, "I and my learned friends have thought it our duty to advise Lord Emsdale that further opposition to the plaintiff's claim would prove ultimately futile; and I have therefore to announce, my lord and gentlemen of the jury, that we acquiesce in a verdict for the plaintiff."

"You have counseled wisely," replied his lordship. "Gentlemen of the jury, you will of course return a verdict for the plaintiff."

The jury hastily and joyfully a.s.sented: the verdict was recorded, and the court adjourned for an hour in the midst of tumultuous excitement. The result of the trial flew through the crowd outside like wildfire; and when Lady Compton and her son, after struggling through the densely-crowded court, stepped into Sir Jasper's carriage, which was in waiting at the door, the enthusiastic uproar that ensued--the hurrahing, shouting, waving of hats and handkerchiefs--deafened and bewildered one; and it was upwards of an hour ere the slow-moving chariot reached Sir Jasper's mansion, though not more than half a mile distant from the town.

Mr. Ferret, mounted on the box, and almost smothered in purple and orange, was a conspicuous object, and a prime favorite with the crowd.

The next day Lord Emsdale, glad, doubtless, to quit the neighborhood as speedily as possible, left the castle, giving Lady Compton immediate possession. The joy of the tenantry was unbounded, and under the wakeful superintendence of Mr. Ferret, all claims against Lord Emsdale for received rents, dilapidations, &c. were adjusted, we may be sure, _not_ adversely to his client's interests; though he frequently complained, not half so satisfactorily as if Lady Compton had not interfered, with what Mr. Ferret deemed misplaced generosity in the matter.

As I was obliged to proceed onwards with the circuit, I called at Compton Castle to take leave of my interesting and fortunate client a few days after her installation there. I was most gratefully received and entertained. As I shook hands at parting, her ladyship, after pressing upon me a diamond ring of great value, said, whilst her charming eyes filled with regretful, yet joyful tears, "Do not forget that poor Henry intended at last to do us justice." Prosperity, thought I, will not spoil that woman. It _has_ not, as the world, were I authorized to communicate her _real_ name, would readily acknowledge.

THE MOTHER AND SON.

Dinner had been over about half an hour one Sunday afternoon.--the only day on which for years I had been able to enjoy a dinner--and I was leisurely sipping a gla.s.s of wine, when a carriage drove rapidly up to the door, a loud _rat-tat_ followed, and my friend Dr. Curteis, to my great surprise, was announced.

"I have called," said the doctor as we shook hands, "to ask you to accompany me to Mount Place. I have just received a hurried note from Miss Armitage, stating that her mother, after a very brief illness, is rapidly sinking, and requesting my attendance, as well as that of a legal gentleman, immediately."

"Mrs. Armitage!" I exclaimed, inexpressibly shocked. "Why, it is scarcely more than a fortnight ago that I met her at the Rochfords' in brilliant health and spirits."

"Even so. But will you accompany me? I don't know where to find any one else for the moment, and time presses."

"It is an attorney, probably, rather than a barrister, that is needed; but under the circ.u.mstances, and knowing her as I do, I cannot hesitate."

We were soon bowling along at a rapid pace, and in little more than an hour reached the dying lady's residence, situated in the county of Ess.e.x, and distant about ten miles from London. We entered together; and Dr.

Curteis, leaving me in the library, proceeded at once to the sick chamber. About ten minutes afterwards the housekeeper, a tall, foreign-looking, and rather handsome woman, came into the room, and announced that the doctor wished to see me. She was deadly pale, and, I observed, trembled like an aspen. I motioned her to precede me; and she, with unsteady steps, immediately led the way. So great was her agitation, that twice, in ascending the stairs, she only saved herself from falling by grasping the banister-rail. The presage I drew from the exhibition of such overpowering emotion, by a person whom I knew to have been long not only in the service, but in the confidence of Mrs. Armitage, was soon confirmed by Dr. Curteis, whom we met coming out of the chamber of the expiring patient.

"Step this way," said he, addressing me, and leading to an adjoining apartment. "We do not require your attendance, Mrs. Bourdon," said he, as soon as we reached it, to the housekeeper, who had swiftly followed us, and now stood staring with eager eyes in the doctor's face, as if life and death hung on his lips. "Have the goodness to leave us," he added tartly, perceiving she did not stir, but continued her fearful, scrutinizing glance. She started at his altered tone, flushed crimson, then paled to a chalky whiteness, and muttering, left the apartment.

"The danger of her mistress has bewildered her," I remarked.

"Perhaps so," remarked Dr. Curteis. "Be that as it may, Mrs. Armitage is beyond all human help. In another hour she will be, as we say, no more."

"I feared so. What is the nature of her disorder?"

"A rapid wasting away, as I am informed. The appearances presented are those of a person expiring of atrophy, or extreme emaciation."

"Indeed. And so sudden too!"

"Yes. I am glad you are come, although your professional services will not, it seems, be required--a neighboring attorney having performed the necessary duty--something, I believe, relative to the will of the dying lady. We will speak further together by and by. In the meantime,"

continued Dr. Curteis, with a perceptible tremor in his voice, "it will do neither of us any harm to witness the closing scene of the life of Mary Rawdon, whom you and I twenty years ago worshipped as one of the gentlest and most beautiful of beings with which the Creator ever graced his universe. It will be a peaceful parting. Come."

Just as, with noiseless footsteps, we entered the silent death-chamber, the last rays of the setting sun were falling upon the figure of Ellen Armitage--who knelt in speechless agony by the bedside of her expiring parent--and faintly lighting up the pale, emaciated, sunken features of the so lately brilliant, courted Mrs. Armitage! But for the ineffaceable splendor of her deep-blue eyes, I should scarcely have recognized her.

Standing in the shadow, as thrown by the heavy bed-drapery, we gazed and listened unperceived.

"Ellen," murmured the dying lady, "come nearer to me. It is growing dark, and I cannot see you plainly. Now, then, read to me, beginning at the verse you finished with, as good Dr. Curteis entered. Ay," she faintly whispered, "it is thus, Ellen, with thy hand clasped in mine, and with the words of the holy book sounding from thy dear lips, that I would pa.s.s away!"

Ellen, interrupted only by her blinding tears, making sad stops, complied. Twilight stole on, and threw its shadow over the solemn scene, deepening its holiness of sorrow. Night came with all her train; and the silver radiance kissed into ethereal beauty the pale face of the weeping girl, still pursuing her sad and sacred task. We hesitated to disturb, by the slightest movement the repose of a death-bed over which belief and hope, those only potent ministers, shed light and calm! At length Dr.

Curteis advanced gently towards the bed, and taking the daughter's hand, said in a low voice, "Had you not better retire, my dear young lady, for a few moments?" She understood him, and rising from her knees, threw herself in an ecstacy of grief upon the corpse, from which the spirit had just pa.s.sed away. a.s.sistance was summoned, and the sobbing girl was borne from the chamber.