Succession (21)

Sensation in court! 

It was by no means assumed that Ferry – Ferraby – Lowndes would wish to go into the family business, that was now a most flourishing enterprize, publishing a daily newspaper The Intelligencer – the fortnightly Ladies’ What-Not – the monthly journal of literature and criticism &C The Oracle – the quarterly Speculum of Arts and Sciences – the annual Casket that was an entire rival to The Keepsake – and considering upon some periodical suited to the young folks. No, his parents had sat him down and made it clear that did he prefer some other course, why, he was not obliged to follow in his father’s footsteps –

At which Ferry had laughed and said, had he not been born with printer’s ink in his veins? Been about getting up a newspaper when still in the nursery?

His mother looked fondly and said, 'twas among her treasured mementos of their childhoods.

Ferry blushed.

Well, said his father, lighting his pipe, do you fancy coming into the press, my notion is that 'twould be a good thing for you to serve some time about the various functions and departments of the business – and this project that Lord Stephen Beaufoyle solicits you to of a magazine to show off the literary endeavours of his set, you will, I fancy, find most useful instructive, I can have no objections to you giving your time to that –

His mother giggled and covered her mouth. His father grinned and said, well, there are worse things idle young aristocrats can be getting up to!

So, the immediate upshot of that was, at present Ferry was accompanying one of the press’s leading court reporters, Gordon Marshall, about his regular round. While Mr Marshall was now the one that covered all the most notable cases in the Old Bailey or on the provincial circuits, he still, as he informed Ferry, liked to occasional drop in on police and magistrates’ courts – there might be some matter of interest, or an amuzing character one could work up –

But today they were to observe Lord Fendersham’s case against Mr Miles O’Neill over the matter of an alleged stolen ring sold by Mr O’Neill to pay the costs of his elopement with Lord Fendersham’s betrothed, Lady Wauderkell, to whom the heirloom had been given as a token, that proper conduct would have returned upon breaking the engagement.

Gordon Marshall sighed. From what gossip says, even that famed barrister Mr Geoffrey Merrett is unlike to be able to make much of this –

But even so, there was somewhat of a crowd in the courtroom. Scandal in high life, sighed Marshall, and of course Lady W – I mean, Mrs O’Neill – has been a figure of scandal ever since her previous marriage, the separation suit, &C.

Do not, said Ferry, her tales include various scenes in court, often involving fair ladies unjustly accused?

Marshall snorted. Very like. Have not read 'em, myself. And neither has Ellen. But 'tis not as though she will be a witness – a wife cannot be called in evidence upon a husband, falls very happily for O’Neill does he protest ignorance of the status of the ring.

The various ceremonies of legality concluded, the prosecution’s first witness was called.

A Father Kelly of Dublin.

Is this, murmured Marshall, the fellow that married 'em?

No – the matter turned out to be far more intriguing. Father Kelly was the present incumbent of the Romish church in which Miles O’Neill had, some considerable while since, married one Mary Catherine O’Malley.

There was a rustling noise and a stifled cry from the present Mrs O’Neill, from which one apprehended she had not known her husband was a widower –

Which further interrogation of the priest suggested he might not be.

No, Mrs O’Neill was not recorded in their burial registers. She was not still living in Dublin. Having been abandoned by her husband she had emigrated to America –

Mr O’Neill was observed shaking his head, as one who might be considering all the perils of the voyage, the rigours of life in those parts, the travails of time, &C.

– and was still in regular correspondence with her sister-in-law, a pious widow in Father Kelly’s congregation, one Bridget O’Malley.

Mrs O’Malley was called to the stand, a very respectable-looking woman in weeds suited to her condition.

Oh yes, she and her husband had helped poor Mary-Kate with the fare and a little money in hand to start anew, and she had flourished, and paid 'em back, and sent fine presents from time to time.

Was now in Chicago, had a nice little shop selling haberdashery and notions –

And when had Mrs O’Malley last heard from Mrs O’Neill?

Mrs O’Malley produced a letter she had very lately received, that mentioned that dear Mary-Kate was being courted by a pious and prosperous widower, but was hesitant to say yes – did dear Bridget ever hear aught about that scoundrel?

Ripple of amuzement in court.

Was the letter dated? enquired Mr Merrett?

No, but she mentioned that she had been to the Mass for the Feast of the Sacred Heart –

There was some colloquium over this, but was eventually determined that this fell shortly after the date of O’Neill’s nuptials with Lady Wauderkell.

Geoffrey Merrett, clutching the lapels of his robe, turned to the judge, making an argument that here we had evidence that Mr O’Neill had committed bigamy, that he was not legally married to the present Mrs O’Neill, and that therefore, the constraint upon a wife’s giving evidence against a husband did not apply.

The judge looked somewhat severely at Merrett and said, Mr Merrett raised a very interesting legal point, and he was adjourning this case until all was looked into.

Lady Wauderkell rose to her feet, screamed, and appeared to faint in very dramatic and becoming style.

Sensation in court! whispered Marshall, sure no-one anticipated this.

Though when Ferry went home, and recounted this sensational tale to his mother over a light nuncheon, she snorted and said, was not in the least surprized! – here had that detrimental fellow been making up to ladies he supposed comfortably provided since the days of the Regent – have a notion, though for the sake of the lady in question 'twas kept very secret, that there had been at least one attempt at the abduction of an heiress –

Quite the Gothic villain! said Ferry.

His mother responded, smile, and smile, and be a villain – one of the hail-fellow-well-met kind – ever about horse-coping in and out of season – retreated to his Castle Rackrent for a deal of a while –

Ferry collected that, residing as they had done in the Raxdell Phalanstery and moving in those circles, his parents must have acquired a deal of Society gossip!

That afternoon there was a meeting at Mulcaster House concerning this magazine that Lord Stephen and his friends purposed. Rather to Ferry’s surprize, they were coming about to have enough copy to supply at least one issue, could they come to any agreement concerning what the thing should be called, and how it should look.

There was a chamber set aside as an editorial office, to which Ferry was shown by a footman, and found it deserted save for Miss Vernall, that was going about to lay out paper and pens and ink upon the long table, along with the samples sent by printers.

What, have they dragooned you into setting things up for them in a business-like fashion?

She turned with a small smile. Why, I have been bidden to join these discussions – there is some talk of including my translations from the Bengali – and it seemed to me that it would be useful to have all this arranged ready –

He grinned back. Your translations from the Bengali and not the fine tales of that noted new author, Selina Vavasour?

She blushed. Those are not the kind of thing that Lord Stephen and his friends envisage in their magazine!

Ferry snorted, and remarked the more fools them, dared say they would consider Mr Dickens beneath 'em. He – and his father – were most agreeable impressed by Miss Vernall’s most professional way of going on – had stepped up to fill the gap created by Lady Wauderkell defaulting upon her obligation to provide a tale of a certain length for The Casket – as well as leaving her tasks as editor to fall upon the already overburdened shoulders of Hannah Roberts! Miss Vernall had turned in a piece admirably to length – in time – and moreover framed around the illustrations Lady W had already commissioned from the artist Apsteed. He fancied that that matters with Lord Stephen’s magazine would be otherwise.

Indeed I fancy this journal is going to appeal to the more recherché taste –

Well, 'tis not a business proposition and I daresay they do not consider upon sales!

At this moment came tumbling in Lord Stephen and his friends, declaring that they had lost track of the time while playing billiards, sorry poor manners, and made very apologetic.

Miss Vernall went over to the sideboard where a kettle was perched above a spirit-lamp and dared say all would care for tea?

Meanwhile they commenced to babbling that they had come to a decision upon the title – Helicon, that had been the home of the Muses –

Ferry considered this and thought that one could have no objection, though he had some qualms that there might be critics waxing satirical that in these sad present times the Muses had fled….

He and Miss Vernall went about serving tea.

Some useful discussion was had about the printing samples and a decision was come to – sure matters were getting on! – when Larbrough said, had a notion that Lowndes might know, had heard a rumour at his club at lunchtime, that there was some dramatic revelation in Fendersham’s case against O’Neill?

Ferry sighed inwardly, and recounted the matter.

There was an outbreak of intense speculation, to the detriment of business.

But, said Brimloe, that was reading for the bar in what to all appearances was a very desultory fashion, one must suppose that there must be an action for bigamy brought against the fellow, to prove it upon him – and given that the lady is said residing very distant – Cincinnati, you said?

Chicago.

– 'twould be a deal of a way for her to come to confront the wretch.

And, said Miss Vernall, that had been largely silent the while, would she wish to confirm her marriage to a fellow that has been notoriously hanging out for ladies with comfortable portions he may batten on – has she now made her own way and prospered? 

The fellows all looked at her and she blushed, murmuring that his ways had been common gossip over teacups.