Authors: The Quincunx
The time that dragged past, it must have been a week but I can’t bear to recal it. At last Martin returned. He told me that Peter’s Father and Brother had intervened and old Mr Clothier had used his power of attorney as Peter’s committee in lunacy to appoint his attorney, and had appointed none other than Mr Daniel Clothier! This gentleman had instantly forbidden anyone — including Martin — to comunnicate with Peter. Martin said that the evidence to the Grand Jury given by himself and all the other witnesses was exactly as at the inquest, except that under examination by Mr Daniel Clothier, Mr Escreet had been forced into admitting that the reason why Peter and I had left the house was because a violent quarrel had sprung up between him and Papa. Mr Daniel Clothier had ellicited this ostensably because he was trying to use a defence of insanity and wanted to stress how strangely Peter had been behaving that night, but Martin was very angry about this because he said that until the quarrel was revealed, Peter had a reasonable chance. Now everything
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went against him. The prisoner had, of course, no right to give evidence, but the Judge had asked him some questions. And Peter had kept trying to insist that he did not wish to be represented by his Brother, that his Father had abused his power of attorney by appointing him, and that his Father and Brother wanted to have him hung because he knew things about them that could incrimmanate them. This had made a very unfavourable impression on the Jury. And when the Judge asked him to explain the quarrel he had had with his Father-in-law, Peter had come out with the most extrordinary Story: he said that it had not been a real argument but a kind of charade concocted between them with the collusion of Mr Escreet. He had insisted that far from their having really quarrelled about money, Papa had given him some of the bank-notes that had been found upon him and he had inexplicably found the others covered in blood in his pocket and had returned to London and gone to the house with the intention of finding out what had happened and returning them. Mr Escreet was examined again and testyfied that he knew nothing of the alledged gift of money to Peter, although as my Father’s confidencial Agent he knew of all his financial transactions. As for the Story that the quarrel was a charade concocted beforehand, he only wished that that had been the case. At this juncture Mr Daniel Clothier had deposed that Peter had recently been found insane by a Comision of Lunacy and said that members of the Comision were present to confirm this, and that Mr Silas Clothier and servants from his household were also prepared to give evidence of the prisoner’s insane conduct over the past several months. The Judge had then directed the Jury to find that Peter was unfit to stand trial by reason of insanity, and they had done so. Then the Judge had ordered that he be comited into the care of his Father who undertook to deliver him into the custardy of the keeper of a place called The Refuge. And the Judge had directed (Martin said) that the inditement be not withdrawn but ordered to be kept upon the record. Martin explained that this meant that Peter would remain in the madhouse for the rest of his life. If he ever seemed to have regained his sanity, he would have to stand trial for murder.
Though I was too distraught to be able to give any thought to my future, Martin insisted that I remain out of London and go into hiding for he feared that old Mr Clothier might try to gain power over me in order to obtain the Codacil. He reminded me that if it could be laid before the Court, then it was in the interests of the Clothiers that I should die, for now I was the sole Huffam heir whose continued existance was keeping old Mr Clothier from inheriting the Estate. He told me that he still owned his Father’s old house in Melthorpe which was unoccupied and he said that I could live there without paying rent. When I suggested that it might be unwise to hide so close to Hougham, he argued that that was why it was so safe: nobody would think of looking for me there. (He said jokingly that to seek safety closest to danger was to live by my Family’s motto.) It seemed so kind that I gratefully accepted and he escorted me there and made me mistress of the house. On the way there, I chose the name of
Mrs
Mellamphy
and we gave out that I had been recently widowed and that Martin was my late husband’s Father. Thank heavens I have already told you about all of this and need not go into it again. Afterwards, he engaged servants for me, Mrs Belflower and Bissett, arranged for the house to be made comfortable, and then returned to London to sort out my affairs. Of course, all of this compromised me and that is why I was treated as I was by
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the better sort of people in the village. Particularly when a few months later it became clear what my situation was.
Martin was my Father’s executor — for Papa had neglected to change this after the breach between them. I was his heir, of course, but there was very little to inherit except the Hougham Annuaty — for even the house belonged to Mr Escreet. Martin had to sell the furniture and plate to clear Papa’s debts — the largest of which was the four thousand Pounds owed to old Mr Clothier. (He managed to rescue a little of the plate and china and some books.) Once the Estate was settled,, there was no more than a few hundred Pounds and the Annuaty. However, since I was a married woman all my personal Propperty belonged to my husband, and because he had been declared insane his legal personality was now vested in his committee who was, of course, old Mr Clothier. Martin feared that old Mr Clothier would therefore claim that the Annuaty should be paid to him on behalf of his son, and that is exactly what happened.
Consequently, the Mompessons refused to pay it to either of us and old Mr Clothier took the issue to Chancery and made it a part of the Suit that he had been conducting for so many years (for Chancery spreads into everything thus when once you are involved in it), and Martin told me he feared that it would take many years to resolve.
(Incidentally, he also mentioned that at about this time Mr Daniel Clothier quarrelled publicly with his Father and renounced him, saying that it was because of his shame and indignation over the way his Father had treated Peter. Martin said that he had repudiated his part in the old gentleman’s Busyness, even going so far as adopting the name of his second wife when he remarried at about this time — for he had seen notice of this in the Gazette.)
For the first few months I lived on the money Peter had given me, with some assistance from Martin. But then I became aware that I was expecting a confinement. It was now that (as I have explained) Martin settled upon me the two thousand Pounds in the Consols that was what we lived on until I was cheated of it. But he insisted that (because of Jemima) this was the end of any assistance he could give me, beyond allowing me to occupy his house rent-free. He also warned me that there was a possibility that old Mr Clothier, in his capacity as the trustee of my husband, could gain custardy of you if he came to know of your existance, for he pointed out that any child of mine born in time would threaten his inheritance of the Hougham Estate. For this reason it was essential that the birth of my child and my whereabouts remain secret.
Nobody outside Melthorpe — where I was known simply as Mrs Mellamphy — knew anything of your existance. Of course, Martin attempted to keep it from his wife though as you know, she found this out when he became unable to conduct his Busyness privately. After you were born he stopped visiting me because of her. I never gave up thinking about the mystery of Papa’s murder and at the end of that first year — in the December before you were born — there was a terrible reminder of it when two families in the Ratcliffe-highway were slaughtered at night by a man who broke into their houses.
I wanted to believe that the person who murdered Papa had not been Peter but someone from outside, and I wondered if it could be the same individual who had carried out those terrible crimes. But the authoraties caught the man they believed responsible and he hanged himself before he came to trial, so I could never find out. As time passed I thought of many things. I suspected everybody, everybody. Peter, Mr Escreet, and even
… Oh Johnnie, I could not bear to think that the Father of my child had killed my Papa!
I imagined
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THE CLOTHIERS
so many things. I even feared that it was I who was responsible — though all unwittingly
— for the murder of my Father and the imprisonment of my husband. That it was not his fault for his passion for me had driven him to it.
As the years passed, I grew poorer and poorer and though Martin promised to make sure that you and I were never in absolute want, I feared what might happen if he should die soon, which was very probable in view of his poor health, for he had told me he dared leave me nothing. So then when you were about two years old, I did something very wrong and foolish from which all our ills have followed. I had the idea of making use of the Codacil to raise some money. I asked Martin whether there would be any profit in my laying it before the Court as Papa had originally intended, but he assured me that such an action would be of no advantage to me but would on the contrairv expose you and me to grave danger from the Clothiers. He urged that the wisest course was to sell it to the Mompessons in the certain knowledge that they would destroy it in order to remove the threat to their possesion of the Estate that it represented, thus making you and me safe from old Mr Clothier. I refused because of the promise I had made to Papa just a few hours before his … I felt that that document had cost him his life and the passing of it on to me and my heir was the only thing he had atchieved during his life. It would be a terrible betrayal of him to surrender it to destruction. Then I began to wonder why Martin was so eager that the Mompessons should regain it and it even occured to me that he had their interests at heart more than he cared for mine. I thought of the fact that if Peter’s Story of the charade was true, then it meant that Papa had not trusted Martin for some reason. (Now that I know for sure that Peter was telling the truth about this, I wonder more than ever if my suspicions were right.) I therefore decided to act without his knowledge and to send to Sir Perceval a copy of the Codacil in order to support my claim to the Annuaty, for that way I could keep my promise to my Father and yet obtain the Annuaty. I did not realize that because the Codacil threatened his possesion of the Estate he would assume that I was trying to blackmail them and that was why he was so angry that time you and I went to see him. If only I had not mismanaged the whole affair, I believe he would have helped us for we are cousins. But everything bad came from that. For since I needed to conciel my whereabouts from Sir Perceval, I engaged an attorney, Mr Sancious, whom I chose at random from a reference in a newspaper reporting a trial. I wrote to him under cover to Martin whom I asked simply to forward the letter. I asked Mr Sancious to undertake to forward letters for me and he consented. Then I copied out the Codacil myself and had it sent by this means to Sir Perceval. So Martin knew nothing of this, and it should have been impossible for Mr Sancious and for the Mompessons to discover where I was living. However, as you know, both of them did discover this, though I never knew how.
Sometimes I even wonder if Martin told Sir Perceval?
Parlament-street, Bethnal-green. The 2
9
th. of March.
How could she do it? When I had been so good to her? To betray me like that? To make us flee as if we were crimanals. Leaving everything: all my cloathes and possesions.
I was always kind to her surely. I let her put most THE WEDDING NIGHT
437
of the work on Sukey. I thought she meant well by us. Why do people … And then that horible Mrs Mallatrat.
So much has happened since I last wrote! If I had only known how hard it would be I think I would not have brought us to London. But how unlucky I was to have been robbed by that wicked wicked woman just as we arrived. It all goes back to that, for I lost my embroidery then and that would have kept us.
We have been here a week now. It is horible. The chamber so small and dark. This district is so changed since I knew it. I tried not to let Johnnie see how upset I was. All gardens and green then and the dirty little cottages only further out then that are everywhere now. But the woman is kind, really, though she is so coarse and common.
Johnnie is wrong. He is getting so stubborn now. She means well. I don’t like her husband though.
The 10th. of April.
He was kind to buy Johnnie new cloathes. I believe he is fond of him. And yet he is not a nice man. She tells me he beats her. We are becoming quite trends now, though she makes me work so hard.
The 29th. of April.
Horible horible woman. How she humiliated me. We must leave here.
Orchard-street. The 15th. of June.
I believe she will be good to us. She seems kind and honest. But I believe we should not have left those people we were safe there at least they fed us. Johnnie is becoming so bullying. How like Papa he is. I think of him so often now. I suppose because we are so near the old house. If he were to see me like this. I dared not tell him of my nightmare when he woke me last night. I dreamed of Papa covered in blood, his face his dear sweet face when he was … did he recognise the He looked so surprized as if he knew the person who And saying that it was me who had done it to him. That I had brought.
The 24th. of July.
No time to write. I believe I work harder for Helen and the Peechments than for that woman. I told Johnnie we should not have left there. Only two grains.
The 10th. of August.
I wish I had some nice dresses to wear. I shall hate to look a fright in front of all those people.
The First of September.
It was horible. Horible. I am so ashamed. We should not have staid. And at the end, the gentleman — not a gentleman — whom I thought was so much nicer than Mr Pentecost … But he accompanied me back while Helen staid and
The 16th. of October. Midnight.