Rowland Maltby moved uneasily in his chair. “Look here, you can’t bring that up in open court!”
“Bring what up?”
“The goings-on at 9 Old Burlington Street, the two of us there with you, when our wives were in Wales.”
“I don’t know what you refer to… My mind is a blank. By indebted, I mean a reference to money. I sold a bracelet, for which I got three hundred, and gave a hundred to Russell, who was short of cash. Therefore he was indebted. Don’t you agree?”
Rowland Maltby shrugged his shoulders and glanced at the lawyer.
“Indebted, Mrs. Clarke. I have that down.”
“Thank you, Mr. Smithies. That’s all that concerns me now. Let’s have some coffee.”
She rose and stretched her arms above her head. God! It was fun to fight, and to fight alone, to carry the weight herself, without interference. Bill would have begged for caution, safety, prudence. The very last words he said to her had been, “Be careful. You’ll do more harm than good by intervention.” As if poor Charley could face this charge alone… Three months the brutes had kept him under arrest, the charges not disclosed until last week; and now as she read the names she saw the reason—every man at the Court handpicked and connected with Adam and Greenwood and Colonel Gordon.
The dice were loaded against her but she did not care. She would clear Charley’s name from fraud; nothing else mattered.
“And the defense?” asked Mr. Smithies. “Mr. Comrie suggested that I should call in a colleague from Lincoln’s Inn. We could prepare the statement together for your brother’s approval.”
She looked at him and smiled. “No need for that.”
“You have someone else in mind?”
“I shall write it myself.”
“But, madam…”
“Oh! please don’t argue. I know what to say.”
“The legal language…”
“The longer the word the better! They shall have their bellyful. I corrected copy, Mr. Smithies, when you were in petticoats. Smudged lawyers’ briefs were part of my earliest reading, sitting cross-legged on a doorstep in Bowling Inn Alley. You can rest assured the defense will be laced with learning.”
She kissed her hand to them both and went upstairs. Mr. Smithies coughed and glanced at Rowland Maltby.
“You’ll lose, of course?” said the latter.
“I rather fear so.”
The proceedings were brief. Witnesses in plenty testified in support of Charge One. Charge Two required more time, and the Prosecution, unable to spike the guns of the prisoner’s sister, wasted a lengthy morning with Mr. Maltby, who contradicted himself a dozen times, and was closely questioned, not about bills or money, but about how often he’d stayed with Mrs. Clarke at Loughton, and whether she owned the house, and who was there. There was a pause for adjournment, requested by the prisoner. The weekend was spent by the prisoner’s sister at Weeleigh, shut up in her bedroom, covering sheets of foolscap. When the Court sat again, upon the Tuesday, the Defense of Captain Thompson was read to the Court:
“Mr. President, and Gentlemen of the Court Martial.
“Having been little more than four years in the Army, a very young man and not possessing the advantages of extensive experience, I feel most strongly the necessity of throwing myself upon your protection, and seeking pardon for any irregularities I may have unintentionally committed.
“If I did not feel confident that I should most satisfactorily discharge myself, before this honorable Court, of the remotest imputation of guilt in the charges which have been preferred against me for the purpose of steeping my reputation in infamy, I would rather have withdrawn from the society of men, have hidden myself from the face of day and shrunk into obscurity, though unaccompanied, uncheered by one consoling reflection.
“But, Gentlemen, I can boldly assert and with confidence, though in all humility, that the envenomed shafts which have been leveled at my private peace and public reputation, by the accumulated force of pique and military rank, will be repelled by the shield of honor, innocence, and integrity.
“Gentlemen, when first I had the honor of joining the 59th Regiment, I had very early the misfortune to discover that I possessed not the countenance, and was indulged not with the friendly attention, of Colonel Fane. In justice to my own character I must admit that my youth and inexperience might have permitted little irregularities against which more extensive experience and knowledge of the world might have protected me. Colonel Fane was unwilling no doubt to trouble himself with the task of becoming my friendly mentor, and I was suddenly, and without preparation, commanded to quit Newark and to report to Leeds upon the Recruiting Service.
“I exerted myself in the execution of my duty with a zeal and attention which would not have disgraced a more able and experienced officer, until about the month of July 1807, when I was attacked with a most serious illness. In this situation, attended by the most skillful of the Medical Gentlemen of the neighborhood till they pronounced they could suggest nothing further for the relief of my unremoving malady, I wrote to Colonel Fane stating my extreme ill-health and requesting leave of absence. In reply to that application I received a letter from Colonel Fane stating that it was not in his power to give me any leave, and that if my health absolutely required it, I must send a doctor’s certificate to that purport to the Inspecting Field Officer. I did so, but after proceeding first to London. I will admit that this was an error of judgment on my part; but let me appeal to this honorable Court whether it should have induced a Commanding Officer to bring me, a very young man, to a court martial for the purpose of destroying my life (for character is life, to an honorable man) and of the blasting of every future prospect?
“I now proceed to trespass upon your attention for a few remarks upon the second charge. I had applied to a near relation of mine for some pecuniary assistance. She supplied me with the two bills in question, drawn by her on Mr. Russell Manners, Esq., payable at Mr. Maltby’s, Fishmongers’ Hall. That the bills were good, and would be paid when they became due, I had not the slightest doubt, and therefore requested Mr. Milbanke, the Paymaster of the District, to discount the bills, which he consented to do. I have since learned that the bills have not been paid. I will not occupy your time with a recapitulation of the evidence, because every word of it exculpates me and asserts my innocence.
“Gentlemen, I am much distressed that I should have trespassed thus long upon your time, but my anxiety to explain every circumstance with the utmost truth and accuracy has lengthened the detail. I feel no disposition to supplicate the honorable Court for any unbecoming favor. I feel no apprehension for the result, because your decision will be founded on liberal and enlightened understanding. To that decision I shall bow with humility and submission, and I entreat the Honorable President and Deputy Judge Advocate to believe that, whatever my fate, I shall retain a grateful remembrance of the attentions I have received.”
Mr. Smithies sat down, a small bespectacled man, gray-haired, with stooping shoulders. His voice was flat. He had read the defense like a curate reading the Lesson. Not once had he paused to make a point or produce an impression. The words that had sounded clear in the hotel bedroom, vivid, engaging, innocent, were lost. The prisoner sat rigidly to attention. His eyes never wavered once from his sister’s face. She was watching Colonel Fane as he rose to his feet. At once the President of the Court relaxed, the gentlemen crossed their legs, shifted position. A wave of agreement, of sympathy, drifted towards him. He cleared his throat, smiled, and began to speak.
“Mr. President, and Gentlemen of the Court Martial.
“I should not have thought it necessary to detain you by making any answer to the prisoner’s defense had he not thought it proper to make some severe observations on my personal motives and conduct upon this occasion.
“If the prisoner is innocent of the charges he ought to be grateful to me for giving him an opportunity to justify himself. That there were grounds for the charges is evident, and
he must well know that under such implications the officers of the Regiment could not have associated with him till he had justified his conduct before a court martial.
“The prisoner had also thought proper to assert that he had not so much of my attention at Newark as other officers, and thence to infer an improper motive on my part. I defy him to prove it by the slightest evidence. On the contrary, I showed him more favor than I have since thought I was justified in doing.
“He has also attacked me for sending him on the Recruiting Service; that I had a right to select what officers I thought proper at a moment’s notice to send on that duty is undoubted, but I will state to the Court my reason for fixing upon Captain Thompson.
“A Mr. Lawton, a most respectable innkeeper at Newark, came to me and told me that Captain Thompson’s conduct in his quarters was unbearable, that the evening before he had grossly insulted him, that it was with difficulty he had prevented him fighting with the waiter, and that unless I took steps to prevent it in future, he should be under the necessity of sending a memorial to the Commander-in-Chief.
“Conceiving such conduct extremely prejudicial to the standards of the Regiment, whose officers were most of them very young men, I thought it right to send him where his example could do no harm.
“Upon the first charge the Court will recollect that my letter gave the prisoner no leave of absence, but only explained, if he were really ill, how he should apply for it. He failed to follow my instructions.
“Upon the second charge I have already stated to the Court I know nothing. The charge of having passed the bills has been proved, but it remains for the Court to determine whether there was any fraud in the transaction.
“I shall not detain you, Gentlemen, any further, but declare that it is my wish, as it must be Captain Thompson’s, that he has convinced the Court that he is not guilty.”
Colonel Fane sat down and the Court withdrew to consider their verdict. It did not take them long. The judgment was delivered by the President, who, after vindicating Colonel Fane and absolving him from all accusations of unfair treatment, went on to a severe indictment of the prisoner, whose attack on his commanding officer had been unjustified and most improper.
Captain Thompson was found guilty of the first charge, but honorably acquitted on the second. Sentence, to be cashiered, which sentence must be confirmed by the Commander-in-Chief.
On the twenty-fourth of May, 1808, the sentence was confirmed in a letter from the Duke of York to Lt-General Lord Chatham, the officer commanding the Eastern Division. And from this day Mary Anne, the prisoner’s sister, determined upon revenge, no matter how.
11
“You still intend to handle this matter yourself?”
“I hope so.”
“In spite of the fact that the court martial went against you?”
“That was a foregone conclusion. I saw their faces. But at least I was able to clear the second charge.”
“Have you any money?”
“Not a single guinea. We’ve left the lodgings in Hampstead without paying the bill. The Nicols have got my harp and some books in exchange.”
“And Mr. Dowler?”
“Recalled to duty over a month ago. He sailed with the first expeditionary force to Portugal. I’m entirely alone at the moment but for Charley, who’s had a breakdown—he won’t let me out of his sight.”
“The obliging Coxhead-Marsh?”
“Become rather chary. The court martial figured largely in the Essex papers, and the name Loughton Lodge was rather too much en évidence.”
“To call a spade a spade, you’re without a protector?”
“Except yourself. And my own indomitable wits.”
Will Ogilvie laughed. “Once more in double harness? The world’s our footstool—I am delighted. The first necessity, then, is a roof for your head. Do you know an upholsterer called Francis Wright?”
“Only that he stores my furniture, the stuff I didn’t sell at Gloucester Place.”
“Of course, I sent you to him, I remember. He works for me on the side, in various ways. He’ll find you lodgings, and then see about a house. I advise you, wherever you go, to call yourself Farquhar. The name of Clarke is suspect in certain quarters. Not so, though, among the people you’ll meet in the future. Folkestone you know, likewise Burdett and Cobbett: they’re the idealists of the Radical group. The opportunists are the boys we’re after. Wardle, M.P. for Okehampton, is your chap, determined to reach the top by fair means or foul, the fouler the better if only he feathers his nest.”
“I’m not going to get myself mixed up in politics.”
“Oh yes, you are… if you don’t want your children to starve. Any means to an end, I thought you’d learned that already. Have you had a chat with the publisher, Richard Phillips?”
“I called on him at Hampstead before I left. Unpleasant, I thought, puffed up with self-importance.”
“So are they all. You want to add to it. He’d like the job of printing the Army Lists, but won’t get it unless there’s a change of government, including a new Commander-in-Chief at the Horse Guards. Have you met McCullum?”
“The pamphleteer? No, he’s a third-rate scribbler.”
“He’s producing a kick in the pants in the very near future, an Enquiry into the Abuses of the R.M.C., proving that seminary to be an imposition on the public, the cadets all riddled with venereal disease. He finishes with some remarks about British generals which made me crack my ribs… I think you’ll like him.”
“And why do you intend that the pamphleteers and I should become acquainted?”
“Because, my sweet blind bat, you know more than all of them. They want the truth. You can supply it—and then live like a queen to the end of your days. Now go and see Francis Wright about a house.”
Eleven Holles Street, in Cavendish Square, provided temporary lodgings for a Mrs. Farquhar, accompanied by her brother, Captain Thompson. A most respectable lady from the country, vouched for by Francis Wright of Rathbone Place. The lodgings were required for the month of June, after which Mrs. Farquhar hoped to remove to Bedford Place.
On Monday June the twentieth Mr. Adam, who lived in Bloomsbury Square, received a letter.
“Sir,
“On the 11th of May, 1806, you waited on me, by the desire of his Royal Highness the Duke of York, to state H.R.H.’s intention of allowing me an annuity of four hundred pounds per annum.
“H.R.H. by his promise is now indebted to me five hundred pounds. I have written repeatedly, but to no avail. His Royal Highness’s conduct towards me has been utterly devoid of principle, feeling and honor, and as his promises are not to be depended upon, though even given by you, I have come to the determination of making my intentions known to you, for the consideration of H.R.H. and thus it is: I solicit His Royal Highness to make the annuity secure for my life, and to pay me the arrears immediately, as my necessaries are very pressing (this he knows). If H.R.H. refuses to do this, I have no other mode for my immediate wants than to publish every circumstance ever communicated to me by H.R.H. and everything which has come under my knowledge during our intimacy, with all his letters. Those things amount to something serious. He is more within my power than he imagines.
“Yet I wish for H.R.H.’s sake and my own that he will make my request good, as I know full well I should suffer much in exposing him, in my own mind. Before I do anything publicly, I will send to every one of His Royal Highness’s family a copy of what I mean to publish. Had H.R.H. only been a little more punctual, this request had never been made.
“One thing more: should H.R.H. throw up his protection to my boy (and I thank him much for the past), I hope he will place him on the foundation of the Charterhouse, or any other public school; the child is not accountable for my conduct.
“You will please, sir, to state this communication to the Duke of York, and on Wednesday I will send to your house, to know what may be H.R.H.’s intention, which you will please to signify by a letter to br />
“Your most obedient, humble servant,
“M. A. Clarke.
“P.S. H.R.H. must feel that his conduct on a late affair deserves all this, and more.”
Mr. Adam sent no reply to this letter. The following Saturday he received a second:
“Sir,
“On Wednesday, finding there was not any answer to my letter, I am led to enquire whether H.R.H. the Duke of York thinks proper not to make good his promise, given by you, and that you encourage him in it.
“I have employed myself since in committing to paper every circumstance within my recollection during the intimacy of H.R.H. and myself.
“The fifty or sixty letters of H.R.H. will give weight and truth to the whole. On Tuesday I have promised to give these up, if I hear nothing further after this last notice; and when once given out of my possession they will be impossible to recall.
“It is to gentlemen, and not to any publisher, that they will be committed, and these gentlemen are just as obstinate as His Royal Highness, and more independent. They are acquaintances of yours, and to relieve my wants, in pique to others, will do what the Duke will not.
“However, he has all within his own power, and so he may act as he pleases.
“I am, sir, your most obedient
“M. A. Clarke.”
On the Tuesday morning a sheriff’s officer, armed with a writ, arrived in Holles Street. He denied all knowledge of anyone called Adam, but said he had come to arrest a Mrs. Clarke, who owed a sum of money to a tradesman, a Mr. Allen, who lived near Gloucester Place. Repeated requests for payment had not been acknowledged.
Mrs. Clarke was removed by the officer to custody and released, on bail, the following afternoon. The bail was paid by Francis Wright, upholsterer. In the action Clarke versus Allen Clarke was successful: she declared herself a married woman, husband’s address unknown. The rent for the month of June in Holles Street was settled also by Francis Wright, the same upholsterer, acting, so it would seem, from motives of chivalry, motives which led him to place at her disposal the house of a friend-of-a-friend, in Bedford Place.