Tales and Novels, Vol. VII by Maria Edgeworth

M >> Maria Edgeworth >> Tales and Novels, Vol. VII

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Without disputing the legal soundness of her ladyship's opinion in her own
peculiar case, Alfred, beginning at a great distance from her passions,
quietly undertook, by relating to her cases which had fallen under his own
knowledge, to convince her that plain common sense and reason could never
lead her to the knowledge of the rules of special pleading, or to the
proper wording of those answers, on the _letter_ of which the fate of a
cause frequently depends. He confessed to her that his own understanding
had been so shocked at first by the apparent absurdity of the system,
that he had almost abandoned the study, and that it had been only in
consequence of actual experience that he had at last discovered the utility
of those rules. She insisted upon being also convinced before she could
submit; but as it is not quite so easy as ladies sometimes think it is to
teach any art or science in two words, or to convey, in a moment, to the
ignorant, the combined result of study and experience, Alfred declined this
task, and could undertake only to show her ladyship, by asking her opinion
on various cases which had been decided in the courts, that it was possible
she might be mistaken; and that, however superior her understanding, a
court of law would infallibly decide according to its own rules.

"But, good Heavens! my dear sir," exclaimed Lady Jane, "when, after I have
paid the amount of my bond, and every farthing that I owe a creditor,
yet this rogue says I have not, is not it a proper answer that I owe him
nothing?"

"Pardon me, this would be considered as an evasive plea by the court, or as
a _negative pregnant_."

"Oh! if you come to your _negative pregnants_," cried Lady Jane, "it is
impossible to understand you--I give up the point."

To this conclusion it had been Alfred's object to bring her ladyship; and
when she was fully convinced of the insufficient limits of the human--he
never said the female--understanding to comprehend these things without the
aid of men learned in the law, he humbly offered his assistance to guide
her out of that labyrinth, into which, unwittingly and without any clue,
she had ventured farther and farther, till she was just in the very jaws
of nonsuit and ruin. She put her affairs completely into his hands, and
promised that she would no farther interfere, even with her advice; for it
was upon this condition that Alfred engaged to undertake the management
of her cause. Nothing indeed is more tormenting to men of business, than
to be pestered with the incessant advice, hopes and fears, cautions and
explanations, cunning suggestions, superficial knowledge, and profound
ignorance, of lady or gentlemen lawyers. Alfred now begged and obtained
permission from the court to amend the Lady Jane Granville's last plea--he
thenceforward conducted the business, and played the game of special
pleading with such strict and acute attention to the rules, that there were
good hopes the remaining portion of her ladyship's fortune, which was now
at stake, might be saved. He endeavoured to keep up her spirits and her
patience, for of a speedy termination to the business there was no chance.
They had to deal with adversaries who knew how, on their side, to protract
the pleadings, and to avoid what is called _coming to the point_.

It was a great pleasure to Alfred thus to have it in his power to assist
his friends, and the hope of serving them redoubled his diligence. About
this time he was engaged in a cause for his brother's friend and Rosamond's
admirer, Mr. Gresham. A picture-dealer had cheated this gentleman, in the
sale of a picture of considerable value. Mr. Gresham had bargained for, and
bought, an original Guido, wrote his name on the back of it, and directed
that it should be sent to him. The painting which was taken to his house
had his name written on the back, but was not the original Guido for which
he had bargained--it was a copy. The picture-dealer, however, and two
respectable witnesses, were ready to swear positively that this was the
identical picture on which Mr. Gresham wrote his name--that they saw him
write his name, and heard him order that it should be sent to him. Mr.
Gresham himself acknowledged that the writing was so like his own that he
could not venture to deny that it was his, and yet he could swear that this
was not the picture for which he had bargained, and on which he had written
his name. He suspected it to be a forgery; and was certain that, by some
means, one picture had been substituted for another. Yet the defendant had
witnesses to prove that the picture never was out of Mr. Gresham's sight,
from the time he bargained for it, till the moment when he wrote his name
on the back, in the presence of the same witnesses.

This chain of evidence they thought was complete, and that it could not
be broken. Alfred Percy, however, discovered the nature of the fraud,
and, regardless of the boasts and taunts of the opposite party, kept his
mind carefully secret, till the moment when he came to cross-examine the
witnesses; for, as Mr. Friend had observed to him, many a cause had been
lost by the impatience of counsel, in showing, beforehand, how it might
certainly be won [Footnote: See Deinology.]. By thus revealing the intended
mode of attack, opportunity is given to prepare a defence by which it may
be ultimately counteracted. In the present case, the defendant, however,
came into court secure of victory, and utterly unprepared to meet the
truth, which was brought out full upon him when least expected. The fact
was, that he had put two pictures into the same frame--the original in
front, the copy behind it: on the back of the canvass of the copy Mr.
Gresham had written his name, never suspecting that it was not the original
for which he bargained, and which he thought he actually held in his hand.
The witnesses, therefore, swore literally the truth, that they saw him
write upon _that_ picture; and they believed the picture, on which he
wrote, was the identical picture that was sent home to him. One of the
witnesses was an honest man, who really believed what he swore, and knew
nothing of the fraud, to which the other, a rogue in confederacy with
the picture-dealer, was privy. The cross-examination of both was so ably
managed, that the honest man was soon made to perceive and the rogue
forced to reveal the truth. Alfred had reason to be proud of the credit he
obtained for the ability displayed in this cross-examination, but he was
infinitely more gratified by having it in his power to gain a cause for his
friend, and to restore to Mr. Gresham his favourite Guido.

A welcome sight--a letter from Godfrey! the first his family had received
from him since he left England. Two of his letters, it appears, had been
lost. Alluding to one he had written immediately on hearing of the change
in his father's fortune, he observes, that he has kept his resolution of
living within his pay; and, after entering into some other family details,
he continues as follows: "Now, my dear mother, prepare to hear me recant
what I have said against Lord Oldborough. I forgive his lordship all his
sins, and I begin to believe, that though he is a statesman, his heart is
not yet quite _ossified_. He has recalled our regiment from this unhealthy
place, and he has promoted Gascoigne to be our lieutenant-colonel. I say
that Lord Oldborough has done all this, because I am sure, from a hint in
Alfred's last letter, that his lordship has been the prime mover in the
business. But not to keep you in suspense about the facts.

"In my first letter to my father, I told you, that from the moment our late
lethargic lieutenant-colonel came to the island, he took to drinking rum,
pure rum, to waken himself--claret, port, and madeira, had lost their power
over him. Then came brandy, which he fancied was an excellent preservative
against the yellow fever, and the fever of the country. So he died 'boldly
by brandy.' Poor fellow! he was boasting to me, the last week of his
existence, when he was literally on his deathbed, that his father taught
him to drink before he was six years old, by practising him every day,
after dinner, in the sublime art of carrying a bumper steadily to his lips.
He, moreover, boasted to me, that when a boy of thirteen, at an academy, he
often drank two bottles of claret at a sitting; and that, when he went into
the army, getting among a jolly set, he brought himself never to feel the
worse for any quantity of wine. I don't know what he meant by the worse
for it--at forty-five, when I first saw him, he had neither head nor hand
left for himself or his country. His hand shook so, that if he had been
perishing with thirst, he could not have carried a glass to his lips, till
after various attempts in all manner of curves and zigzags, spilling half
of it by the way. It was really pitiable to see him--when he was to sign
his name I always went out of the room, and left Gascoigne to guide his
hand. More helpless still his mind than his body. If his own or England's
salvation had depended upon it, he could not, when in the least hurried,
have uttered a distinct order, have dictated an intelligible letter; or, in
time of need, have recollected the name of any one of his officers, or even
his own name--quite imbecile and embruted. But, peace to his ashes--or
rather to his dregs--and may there never be such another British colonel!

"Early habits of temperance have not only saved my life, but made my life
worth saving. Neither Colonel Gascoigne nor I have ever had a day's serious
illness since we came to the island--but we are the only two that have
escaped. Partly from the colonel's example, and partly from their own
inclination, all the other officers have drunk hard. Lieutenant R---- is
now ill of the fever; Captain H---- (I beg his pardon), now Major H----,
will soon follow the colonel to the grave, unless he takes my very
disinterested advice, and drinks less. I am laughed at by D---- and V----
and others for this; they ask why the deuce I can't let the major kill
himself his own way, and as fast as he pleases, when I should get on a step
by it, and that step such a great one. They say none but a fool would do
as I do, and I think none but a brute could do otherwise--I can't stand by
with any satisfaction, and see a fellow-creature killing himself by inches,
even though I have the chance of slipping into his shoes: I am sure the
shoes would pinch me confoundedly. If it is my brother-officer's lot to
fall in battle--it's very well--I run the same hazard--he dies, as he ought
to do, a brave fellow; but to stand by, and see a man die as he ought not
to do, and die what is called an _honest fellow_!--I can't do it. H---- at
first had a great mind to run me through the body; but, poor man, he is now
very fond of me, and if any one can keep him from destroying himself, I
flatter myself I shall.

"A thousand thanks to dear Caroline for her letter, and to Rosamond for her
journal. They, who have never been an inch from home, cannot conceive how
delightful it is, at such a distance, to receive letters from our friends.
You remember, in Cook's voyage, his joy at meeting in some distant island
with the spoon marked _London_.

"I hope you received my letters, Nos. I and 2. Not that there was any thing
particular in them. You know I never do more than tell the bare facts--not
like Rosamond's journal--with which, by-the-bye, Gascoigne has fallen
in love. He sighs, and wishes that Heaven had blessed him with such a
sister--for _sister_, read wife. I hope this will encourage Rosamond to
write again immediately. No; do not tell what I have just said about
Gascoigne, for--who knows the perverse ways of women?--perhaps it might
prevent her from writing to me at all. You may tell her, in general, that
it is my opinion ladies always write better and do every thing better than
men--except fight, which Heaven forbid they should ever do in public or
private!

"I am glad that Caroline did not marry Mr. Barclay, since she did not
like him; but by all accounts he is a sensible, worthy man, and I give my
consent to his marriage with Lady Mary Pembroke, though, from Caroline's
description, I became half in love with her myself. N.B. I have not been
in love above six times since I left England, and but once any thing to
signify. How does the Marchioness of Twickenham go on?

"Affectionate duty to my father, and love to all the happy people at home.

"Dear mother,

"Your affectionate son,

"G. PERCY."

CHAPTER XXIII.

LETTER FROM ALFRED TO CAROLINE.

"MY DEAR CAROLINE,

"I am going to surprise you--I know it is the most imprudent thing a
story-teller can do to give notice or promise of a surprise; but you see,
I have such confidence at this moment in my fact, that I hazard this
imprudence--Whom do you think I have seen? Guess--guess all round the
breakfast-table--father, mother, Caroline, Rosamond--I defy you all--ay,
Rosamond, even you, with all your capacity for romance; the romance of real
life is beyond all other romances--its coincidences beyond the combinations
of the most inventive fancy--even of yours, Rosamond--Granted--go
on--Patience, ladies, if you please, and don't turn over the page, or
glance to the end of my letter to satisfy your curiosity, but read fairly
on, says my father.

"You remember, I hope, the Irishman, O'Brien, to whom Erasmus was so good,
and whom Mr. Gresham, kind as he always is, took for his porter: when Mr.
Gresham set off last week for Amsterdam, he gave this fellow leave to go
home to his wife, who lives at Greenwich. This morning, the wife came
to see my honour to speak to me, and when she did see me she could not
speak, she was crying so bitterly; she was in the greatest distress about
her husband: he had, she said, in going to see her, been seized by a
press-gang, and put on board a tender now on the Thames. Moved by the poor
Irishwoman's agony of grief, and helpless state, I went to Greenwich, where
the tender was lying, to speak to the captain, to try to obtain O'Brien's
release. But upon my arrival there, I found that the woman had been
mistaken in every point of her story. In short, her husband was not on
board the tender, had never been pressed, and had only stayed away from
home the preceding night, in consequence of having met with the captain's
servant, one of his countrymen, from the county of Leitrim dear, who had
taken him home to treat him, and had kept him all night to sing 'St.
Patrick's day in the morning,' and to drink a good journey, and a quick
passage, across the salt water to his master, which he could not refuse.
Whilst I was looking at my watch, and regretting my lost morning, a
gentleman, whose servant had really been pressed, came up to speak to the
captain, who was standing beside me. The gentleman had something striking
and noble in his whole appearance; but his address and accent, which were
those of a foreigner, did not suit the fancy of my English captain, who,
putting on the surly air, with which he thought it for his honour and for
the honour of his country to receive a Frenchman, as he took this gentleman
to be, replied in the least satisfactory manner possible, and in the short
language of some seamen, 'Your footman's an Englishman, sir; has been
pressed for an able-bodied seaman, which I trust he'll prove; he's aboard
the tender, and there he will remain.' The foreigner, who, notwithstanding
the politeness of his address, seemed to have a high spirit, and to be
fully sensible of what was due from others to him as well as from him to
them, replied with temper and firmness. The captain, without giving any
reasons, or attending to what was said, reiterated, 'I am under orders,
sir; I am acting according to my orders--I can do neither more nor less.
The law is as I tell you, sir.'

"The foreigner bowed submission to the law, but expressed his surprise
that such should be law in a land of liberty. With admiration he had
heard, that, by the English law and British constitution, the property and
personal liberty of the lowest, the meanest subject, could not be injured
or oppressed by the highest nobleman in the realm, by the most powerful
minister, even by the king himself. He had always been assured that the
king could not put his hand into the purse of the subject, or take from him
to the value of a single penny; that the sovereign could not deprive the
meanest of the people unheard, untried, uncondemned, of a single hour of
his liberty, or touch a hair of his head; he had always, on the continent,
heard it the boast of Englishmen, that when even a slave touched English
ground he became free: 'Yet now, to my astonishment,' pursued the
foreigner, 'what do I see?--a freeborn British subject returning to his
native land, after an absence of some years, unoffending against any law,
innocent, unsuspected of all crime, a faithful domestic, an excellent man,
prevented from returning to his family and his home, put on board a king's
ship, unused to hard labour, condemned to work like a galley slave, doomed
to banishment, perhaps to death!--Good Heavens! In all this where is your
English liberty? Where is English justice, and the spirit of your English
law?'

"'And who the devil are you, sir?' cried the captain, 'who seem to know so
much and so little of English law?'

"'My name, if that be of any consequence, is Count Albert Altenberg.'

"'Well, Caroline, you are surprised.--'No,' says Rosamond; 'I guessed it
was he, from the first moment I heard he was a foreigner, and had a noble
air.''

"'Altenberg,' repeated the captain; 'that's not a French name:--Why, you
are not a Frenchman!'

"'No, sir--a German.'

"'Ah ha!' cried the captain, suddenly changing his tone, 'I thought you
were not a Frenchman, or you could not talk so well of English law, and
feel so much for English liberty; and now, since that's the case, I'll own
to you frankly, that in the main I'm much of your mind--and for my own
particular share, I'd as lieve the Admiralty had sent me to hell as have
ordered me to press on the Thames. But my business is to obey orders--which
I will do, by the blessing of God--so good morning to you. As to law, and
justice, and all that, talk to him,' said the captain, pointing with his
thumb over his left shoulder to me as he walked off hastily.

"'Poor fellow!' said I; 'this is the hardest part of a British captain's
duty, and so he feels it.'

"'Duty!' exclaimed the count--'Duty! pardon me for repeating your word--but
can it be his duty? I hope I did not pass proper bounds in speaking to him;
but now he is gone, I may say to you, sir--to you, who, if I may presume to
judge from your countenance, sympathize in my feelings--this is a fitter
employment for an African slave-merchant than for a British officer. The
whole scene which I have just beheld there on the river, on the banks,
the violence, the struggles I have witnessed there, the screams of the
women and children,--it is not only horrible, but in England incredible!
Is it not like what we have heard of on the coast of Africa with
detestation--what your humanity has there forbidden--abolished? And is it
possible that the cries of those negroes across the Atlantic can so affect
your philanthropists' imaginations, whilst you are deaf or unmoved by these
cries of your countrymen, close to your metropolis, at your very gates? I
think I hear them still,' said the count, with a look of horror. 'Such a
scene I never before beheld! I have seen it--and yet I cannot believe that
I have seen it in England.'

"I acknowledged that the sight was terrible; I could not be surprised that
the operation of pressing men for the sea service should strike a foreigner
as inconsistent with the notion of English justice and liberty, and I
admired the energy and strength of feeling which the count showed; but I
defended the measure as well as I could, on the plea of necessity.

"'Necessity!' said the count: 'Pardon me if I remind you that necessity is
the tyrant's plea.'

"I mended my plea, and changed necessity into utility--general utility.
It was essential to England's defence--to her existence--she could not
exist without her navy, and her navy could not be maintained without a
press-gang--as I was assured by those who were skilled in naval affairs.

"The count smiled at my evident consciousness of the weakness of my
concluding corollary, and observed that, by my own statement, the whole
argument depended on the assertions of those who maintained that a navy
could not exist without a press-gang. He urged this no further, and I was
glad of it; his horses and mine were at this moment brought up, and we both
rode together to town.

"I know that Rosamond, at this instant, is gasping with impatience to hear
whether in the course of this ride I spoke of M. de Tourville--and the
shipwreck. I did--but not of Euphrosyne: upon that subject I could not well
touch. He had heard of the shipwreck, and of the hospitality with which the
sufferers had been treated by an English gentleman, and he was surprised
and pleased, when I told him that I was the son of that gentleman. Of M. de
Tourville, the count, I fancy, thinks much the same as you do. He spoke of
him as an intriguing diplomatist, of quick talents, but of a mind incapable
of any thing great or generous. The count went on from speaking of M. de
Tourville to some of the celebrated public characters abroad, and to the
politics and manners of the different courts and countries of Europe.
For so young a man, he has seen and reflected much. He is indeed a very
superior person, as he convinced me even in this short ride. You know that
Dr. Johnson says, 'that you cannot stand for five minutes with a great
man under a shed, waiting till a shower is over, without hearing him say
something that another man could not say.' But though the count conversed
with me so well and so agreeably, I could see that his mind was, from time
to time, absent and anxious; and as we came into town, he again spoke of
the press-gang, and of his poor servant--a faithful attached servant, he
called him, and I am sure the count is a good master, and a man of feeling.
He had offered money to obtain the man's release in vain. A substitute
it was at this time difficult to find--the count was but just arrived in
London, had not yet presented any of his numerous letters of introduction;
he mentioned the names of some of the people to whom these were addressed,
and he asked me whether application to any of them could be of service. But
none of his letters were to any of the men now in power. Lord Oldborough
was the only person I knew whose word would be law in this case, and I
offered to go with him to his lordship. This I ventured, my dear father,
because I wisely--yes, wisely, as you shall see, calculated that the
introduction of a foreigner, fresh from the continent, and from that court
where Cunningham Falconer is now resident envoy, would be agreeable, and
might be useful to the minister.

"My friend, Mr. Temple, who is as obliging and as much my friend now he is
secretary to _the_ great man as he was when he was a scrivening nobody in
his garret, obtained audience for us directly. I need not detail--indeed I
have not time--graciously received--count's business done by a line--Temple
ordered to write to Admiralty: Lord Oldborough seemed obliged to me for
introducing the count--I saw he wished to have some private conversation
with him--rose, and took my leave. Lord Oldborough paid me for my
discretion on the spot by a kind look--a great deal from him--and following
me to the door of the antechamber, 'Mr. Percy, I cannot regret that you
have followed your own independent professional course--I congratulate
you upon your success--I have heard of it from many quarters, and always,
believe me, with pleasure, on your father's account, and on your own.'

"Next day I found on my table when I came from the courts, the count's
card--when I returned his visit, Commissioner Falconer was with him in
close converse--confirmed by this in opinion that Lord Oldborough is
sucking information--I mean, political secrets--out of the count. The
commissioner could not, in common decency, help being 'exceedingly sorry
that he and Mrs. Falconer had seen so little of me of late,' nor could he
well avoid asking me to a concert, to which he invited the count, for the
ensuing evening. As the count promised to go, so did I, on purpose to meet
him. Adieu, dearest Caroline.

"Most affectionately yours,

"ALFRED PERCY."

To give an account of Mrs. Falconer's concert in fashionable style, we
should inform the public that Dr. Mudge for ever established his fame
in "_Buds of Roses_;" and Miss La Grande was astonishing, absolutely
astonishing, in "_Frenar vorrei le lagrime_"--quite in Catalani's best
manner; but Miss Georgiana Falconer was divine in "_O Giove omnipotente_,"
and quite surpassed herself in "_Quanto O quanto e amor possente_," in
which Dr. Mudge was also capital: indeed it would be doing injustice to
this gentleman's powers not to acknowledge the universality of his genius.