THE TWINS.
The records of police courts afford but imperfect evidence of the
business really effected by the officers attached to them. The machinery
of English criminal law is, in practice, so subservient to the caprice
of individual prosecutors, that instances are constantly occurring in
which flagrant violations of natural justice are, from various motives,
corrupt and otherwise, withdrawn not only from the cognizance of
judicial authority, but from the reprobation of public opinion.
Compromises are usually effected between the apprehension of the
inculpated parties and the public examination before a magistrate. The
object of prosecution has been perhaps obtained by the preliminary step
of arrest, or a criminal understanding has been arrived at in the
interval; and it is then found utterly hopeless to proceed, however
manifest may have appeared the guilt of the prisoner. If you adopt the
expedient of compelling the attendance of the accused, it is, in nine
cases out of ten, mere time and trouble thrown away. The utter
forgetfulness of memory, the loose recollection of facts so vividly
remembered but a few hours before, the delicately-scrupulous hesitation
to depose confidently to the clearest verities evinced by the reluctant
prosecutor, render a conviction almost impossible; so that, except in
cases of flagrant and startling crimes, which are of course earnestly
prosecuted by the crown lawyers, offences against "our sovereign lady
the Queen, her crown, and dignity," as criminal indictments run, if no
aggrieved subject voluntarily appears to challenge justice in behalf of
his liege lady, remain unchastised, and not unfrequently unexposed. From
several examples of this prevalent abuse which have come within my own
knowledge, I select the following instance, merely changing the names of
the parties:--
My services, the superintendent late one afternoon informed me, were
required in a perplexed and entangled affair, which would probably
occupy me for some time, as orders had been given to investigate the
matter thoroughly. "There," he added, "is a Mr. Repton, a
highly-respectable country solicitor's card. He is from Lancashire, and
is staying at Webb's Hotel, Piccadilly. You are to see him at once. He
will put you in possession of all the facts--surmises rather, I should
say, for the facts, to my apprehension, are scant enough--connected with
the case, and you will then use all possible diligence to ascertain
first if the alleged crime has been really committed, and if so, of
course to bring the criminal or criminals to justice."
I found Mr. Repton, a stout, bald-headed, gentlemanly person, apparently
about sixty years of age, just in the act of going out. "I have a
pressing engagement for this evening, Mr. Waters," said he, after
glancing at the introductory note I had brought, "and cannot possibly go
into the business with the attention and minuteness it requires till the
morning. But I'll tell you what: one of the parties concerned, and the
one, too, with whom you will have especially to deal, is, I know, to be
at Covent Garden Theatre this evening. It is of course necessary that
you should be thoroughly acquainted with his person; and if you will go
with me in the cab that is waiting outside, I will step with you into
the theatre, and point him out." I assented; and on entering Covent
Garden pit, Mr. Repton, who kept behind me, to avoid observation,
directed my attention to a group of persons occupying the front seats
of the third box in the lower tier from the stage, on the right-hand
side of the house. They were--a gentleman of about thirty years of age;
his wife, a very elegant person, a year or two younger; and three
children, the eldest of whom, a boy, could not have been more than six
or seven years old. This done, Mr. Repton left the theatre, and about
two hours afterwards I did the same.
The next morning I breakfasted with the Lancashire solicitor by
appointment. As soon as it was concluded, business was at once entered
upon.
"You closely observed Sir Charles Malvern yesterday evening, I presume?"
said Mr. Repton.
"I paid great attention to the gentleman you pointed out to me," I
answered, "if he be Sir Charles Malvern."
"He is, or at least---- But of that presently. First let me inform you
that Malvern, a few months ago, was a beggard gamester, or nearly so, to
speak with precision. He is now in good bodily health, has a charming
wife, and a family to whom he is much attached, an unencumbered estate
of about twelve thousand a year, and has not gambled since he came into
possession of the property. This premised, is there, think you, anything
remarkable in Sir Charles's demeanor?"
"Singularly so. My impression was, that he was laboring under a terrible
depression of spirits, caused, I imagined, by pecuniary difficulties.
His manner was restless, abstracted. He paid no attention whatever to
anything going on on the stage, except when his wife or one of the
children especially challenged his attention; and then, a brief answer
returned, he relapsed into the same restless unobservance as before. He
is very nervous too. The box door was suddenly opened once or twice, and
I noticed his sudden start each time."
"You have exactly described him. Well, that perturbed, unquiet
feverishness of manner has constantly distinguished him since his
accession to the Redwood estates, and only since then. It strengthens me
and one or two others in possibly an unfounded suspicion, which---- But
I had better, if I wish to render myself intelligible, relate matters in
due sequence.
"Sir Thomas Redwood, whose property in Lancashire is chiefly in the
neighborhood of Liverpool, met his death, as did his only son Mr.
Archibald Redwood, about six months ago, in a very sudden and shocking
manner. They were out trying a splendid mare for the first time in
harness, which Sir Thomas had lately purchased at a very high price. Two
grooms on horseback were in attendance, to render assistance if
required, for the animal was a very powerful, high-spirited one. All
went very well till they arrived in front of Mr. Meredith's place, Oak
Villa. This gentleman has a passion for firing off a number of brass
cannon on the anniversary of such events as he deems worthy of the
honor. This happened, unfortunately, to be one of Mr. Meredith's
gunpowder days; and as Sir Thomas and his son were passing, a stream of
light flashed directly in the eyes of the mare, followed by the roar of
artillery, at no more than about ten paces off. The terrified animal
became instantly unmanageable, got the bit between her teeth, and darted
off at the wildest speed. The road is a curved and rugged one; and after
tearing along for about half a mile, the off-wheel of the gig came, at
an abrupt turn, full against a milestone. The tremendous shock hurled
the two unfortunate gentlemen upon the road with frightful violence,
tore the vehicle almost completely assunder, and so injured the mare,
that she died the next day. The alarmed grooms, who had not only been
unable to render assistance, but even to keep up with the terrified
mare, found Mr. Archibald Redwood quite dead. The spine had been broken
close to the nape of the neck: his head, in fact, was doubled up, so to
speak, under the body. Sir Thomas still breathed, and was conveyed to
Redwood Manor House. Surgical assistance was promptly obtained; but the
internal injuries were so great, that the excellent old gentleman
expired in a few hours after he had reached his home. I was hastily sent
for; and when I arrived, Sir Thomas was still fully conscious. He
imparted to me matters of great moment, to which he requested I would
direct, after his decease, my best care and attention. His son, I was
aware, had but just returned from a tour on the continent, where he had
been absent for nearly a twelvemonth; but I was not aware, neither was
his father till the day before his death, that Mr. Archibald Redwood had
not only secretly espoused a Miss Ashton--of a reduced family, but
belonging to our best gentry--but had returned home, not solely for the
purpose of soliciting Sir Thomas's forgiveness of his unauthorized
espousals, but that the probable heir of Redwood might be born within
the walls of the ancient manor house. After the first burst of passion
and surprise, Sir Thomas, one of the best-hearted men in the universe,
cordially forgave his son's disobedience--partly, and quite rightly,
imputing it to his own foolish urgency in pressing a union with one of
the Lacy family, with which the baronet was very intimate, and whose
estate adjoined his.
"Well, this lady, now a widow, had been left by her husband at Chester,
whilst he came on to seek an explanation with his father. Mr. Archibald
Redwood was to have set out the next morning in one of Sir Thomas's
carriages to bring home his wife; and the baronet, with his dying
breath, bade me assure her of his entire forgiveness, and his earnest
hope and trust that through her offspring the race of the Redwoods
might be continued in a direct line. The family estates, I should tell
you, being strictly entailed on heirs-male, devolved, if no son of Mr.
Archibald Redwood should bar his claim, upon Charles Malvern, the son of
a cousin of the late Sir Thomas Redwood. The baronet had always felt
partially towards Malvern, and had assisted him pecuniarily a hundred
times. Sir Thomas also directed me to draw as quickly as I could a short
will, bequeathing Mr. Charles Malvern twenty thousand pounds out of the
personals. I wrote as expeditiously as I could, but by the time the
paper was ready for his signature, Sir Thomas was no longer conscious. I
placed the pen in his hand, and I fancied he understood the purpose, for
his fingers closed faintly upon it; but the power to guide was utterly
gone, and only a slight, scrambling stroke marked the paper as the pen
slid across it in the direction of the falling arm.
"Mr. Malvern arrived at the manor-house about an hour after Sir Thomas
breathed his last. It was clearly apparent through all his sorrow,
partly real, I have no doubt, as well as partly assumed, that joy, the
joy of riches, splendor, station, was dancing at his heart, and, spite
of all his efforts to subdue or conceal it, sparkling in his eye. I
briefly, but gently as I could, acquainted him with the true position of
affairs. The revulsion of feeling which ensued entirely unmanned him;
and it was not till an hour afterwards that he recovered his
self-possession sufficiently to converse reasonably and coolly upon his
position. At last he became apparently reconciled to the sudden
overclouding of his imaginatively-brilliant prospects, and it was agreed
that as he was a relative of the widow, he should at once set off to
break the sad news to her. Well, a few days after his departure, I
received a letter from him, stating that Lady Redwood--I don't think, by
the way, that, as her husband died before succeeding to the baronetcy,
she is entitled to that appellation of honor; we, however, call her so
out of courtesy--that Lady Redwood, though prematurely confined in
consequence of the intelligence of her husband's untimely death, had
given birth to a female child, and that both mother and daughter were as
well as could be expected. This, you will agree, seemed perfectly
satisfactory?"
"Entirely so."
"So I thought. Mr. Malvern was now unquestionably, whether Sir Charles
Malvern or not, the proprietor of the Redwood estates, burthened as with
a charge, in accordance with the conditions of the entails, of a
thousand pounds life annuity to the late Mr. Redwood's infant daughter.
"Sir Charles returned to Redwood manor-house, where his wife and family
soon afterwards arrived. Lady Redwood had been joined, I understood, by
her mother, Mrs. Ashton, and would, when able to undertake the journey,
return to her maternal home. It was about two months after Sir Thomas
Redwood's death that I determined to pay Lady Redwood a visit, in order
to the winding up of the personal estate, which it was desirable to
accomplish as speedily as possible; and then a new and terrible light
flashed upon me."
"What, in heaven's name!" I exclaimed, for the first time breaking
silence--"what could there be to reveal?"
"Only," rejoined Mr. Repton, "that, ill, delirious, as Lady Redwood
admitted herself to have been, it was her intimate, unconquerable
conviction _that she had given birth to twins_!"
"Good God! And you suspect"----
"We don't know what to suspect. Should the lady's confident belief be
correct, the missing child might have been a boy. You understand?"
"I do. But is there any tangible evidence to justify this horrible
suspicion?"
"Yes; the surgeon-apothecary and his wife, a Mr. and Mrs. Williams, who
attended lady Redwood, have suddenly disappeared from Chester, and, from
no explainable motive, having left or abandoned a fair business there."
"That has certainly an ugly look."
"True; and a few days ago I received information that Williams has been
seen in Birmingham. He was well dressed, and not apparently in any
business."
"There certainly appears some ground for suspicion. What plan of
operations do you propose?"
"That," replied Mr. Repton, "I must leave to your more practised
sagacity. I can only undertake that no means shall be lacking that may
be required."
"It will be better, perhaps," I suggested, after an interval of
reflection, "that I should proceed to Birmingham at once. You have of
course an accurate description of the persons of Williams and his wife
ready?"
"I have; and very accurate pen-and-ink sketches I am told they are.
Besides these, I have also here," continued Mr. Repton, taking from his
pocket-book a sheet of carefully-folded satin paper, "A full description
of the female baby, drawn up by its mother, under the impression that
twins always--I believe they generally do--closely resemble each other.
"Light hair, blue eyes, dimpled chin"--and so on. The lady--a very
charming person, I assure you, and meek and gentle as a fawn--is chiefly
anxious to recover her child. You and I, should our suspicions be
confirmed, have other duties to perform."
This was pretty nearly all that passed, and the next day I was in
Birmingham.
The search, as I was compelled to be very cautious in my inquiries, was
tedious, but finally successful. Mr. and Mrs. Williams I discovered
living in a pretty house, with neat grounds attached, about two miles
out of Birmingham, on the coach road to Wolverhampton. Their assumed
name was Burridge, and I ascertained from the servant-girl, who fetched
their dinner and supper, beer, and occasionally wine and spirits, from a
neighboring tavern, that they had one child, a boy, a few months old, of
whom neither father nor mother seemed very fond. By dint of much
perseverance, I at length got upon pretty familiar terms with Mr.
Burridge, _alias_ Williams. He spent his evenings regularly in a tavern;
but with all the pains-taking, indefatigable ingenuity I employed, the
chief knowledge I acquired, during three weeks of assiduous endeavor,
was, that my friend Burridge intended, immediately after a visit which
he expected shortly to receive from a rich and influential relative in
London, to emigrate to America, at all events to go abroad. This was,
however, very significant and precious information; and very rarely,
indeed, was he, after I had obtained it, out of my sight or observation.
At length perseverance obtained its reward. One morning I discerned my
friend, much more sprucely attired than ordinarily, make his way to the
railway station, and there question with eager looks every passenger
that alighted from the first-class carriages. At last a gentleman, whom
I instantly recognized, spite of his shawl and other wrappings, arrived
by the express train from London. Williams instantly accosted him, a cab
was called, and away they drove. I followed in another, and saw them
both alight at a hotel in New Street. I also alighted, and was mentally
debating how to proceed, when Williams came out of the tavern, and
proceeded in the direction of his home. I followed, overtook him, and
soon contrived to ascertain that he and his wife had important business
to transact in Birmingham the next morning, which would render it
impossible he should meet me, as I proposed, till two or three o'clock
in the afternoon at the earliest; and the next morning, my esteemed
friend informed me, he would leave the place, probably for ever. An hour
after this interesting conversation, I, accompanied by the chief of the
Birmingham police, was closeted with the landlord of the hotel in New
Street, a highly-respectable person, who promised us every assistance in
his power. Sir Charles Malvern had, we found, engaged a private room for
the transaction of important business with some persons he expected in
the morning, and our plans were soon fully matured and agreed upon.
I slept little that night, and immediately after breakfast hastened with
my Birmingham colleague to the hotel. The apartment assigned for Sir
Charles Malvern's use had been a bedroom, and a large wardrobe, with a
high wing at each end, still remained in it. We tried if it would hold
us, and with very little stooping and squeezing, found it would do very
well. The landlord soon gave us the signal to be on the alert, and in we
jammed ourselves, locking the wing-doors on the inside. A minute or two
afterwards, Sir Charles, and Mr. and Mrs. Williams entered, and, paper,
pens, and ink having been brought, business commenced in right earnest.
Their conversation it is needless to detail. It will suffice to observe
that it was manifest Sir Charles, by a heavy bribe, had induced the
accoucheur and his wife to conceal the birth of the male child, which,
as I suspected, was that which Williams and his spouse were bringing up
as their own. I must do the fictitious baronet the justice to say that
he had from the first the utmost anxiety that no harm should befall the
infant. Mr. Malvern's nervous dread lest his confederates should be
questioned, had induced their hurried departure from Chester, and it now
appeared that he had become aware of the suspicions entertained by Mr.
Repton, and could not rest till the Williams's and the child were safe
out of the country. It was now insisted, by the woman more especially,
that the agreement for the large annual payment to be made by Sir
Charles should be fairly written out and signed in plain "black and
white," to use Mrs. Williams' expression, in order that no future
misunderstandings might arise. This, Mr. Malvern strongly objected to;
but finding the woman would accept of no other terms, he sullenly
complied, and at the same time reiterated, that if any harm should
befall the boy--to whom he intended, he said, to leave a handsome
fortune--he would cease, regardless of consequences to himself, to pay
the Williams's a single shilling.
A silence of several minutes followed, broken only by the scratching of
the pen on the paper. The time to me seemed an age, squeezed, crooked,
stifled as I was in that narrow box, and so I afterwards learned it did
to my fellow-sufferer. At length Mr. Malvern said, in the same cautious
whisper in which they had all hitherto spoken, "This will do, I think;"
and read what he had written. Mr. and Mrs. Williams signified their
approval; and as matters were now fully ripe, I gently turned the key,
and very softly pushed open the door. The backs of the amiable trio were
towards me, and as my boots were off, and the apartment was thickly
carpeted, I approached unperceived, and to the inexpressible horror and
astonishment of the parties concerned, whose heads were bent eagerly
over the important document, a hand, which belonged to neither of them,
was thrust silently but swiftly forward, and grasped the precious
instrument. A fierce exclamation from Mr. Malvern as he started from his
seat, and a convulsive scream from Mrs. Williams as she fell back in
hers, followed; and to add to the animation of the tableau, my friend in
the opposite wing emerged at the same moment from his hiding-place.
Mr. Malvern comprehended at a glance the situation of affairs, and made
a furious dash at the paper. I was quicker as well as stronger than he,
and he failed in his object. Resistance was of course out of the
question; and in less than two hours we were speeding on the rail
towards London, accompanied by the child, whom we entrusted to Williams'
servant-maid.
Mrs. Repton was still in town, and Mrs. Ashton, Lady Redwood, and her
unmarried sister, in their impatience of intelligence, had arrived
several days before. I had the pleasure of accompanying Mrs. Repton with
the child and his temporary nurse to Osborne's Hotel in the Adelphi; and
I really at first feared for the excited mother's reason, or that she
would do the infant a mischief, so tumultuous, so frenzied, was her
rapturous joy at the recovery of her lost treasure. When placed in the
cot beside the female infant, the resemblance of the one to the other
was certainly almost perfect. I never saw before nor since so complete a
likeness. This was enough for the mother; but, fortunately, we had much
more satisfactory evidence, legally viewed, to establish the identity of
the child in a court of law, should the necessity arise for doing so.
Here, as far as I am concerned, all positive knowledge of this curious
piece of family history ends. Of subsequent transactions between the
parties I had no personal cognizance. I only know there was a failure
of justice, and I can pretty well guess from what motives. The parties I
arrested in Birmingham were kept in strict custody for several days; but
no inducement, no threats, could induce the institutors of the inquiry
to appear against the detected criminals.
Mrs. and Miss Ashton, Lady Redwood and her children, left town the next
day but one, for Redwood Manor; and Mr. Repton coolly told the angry
superintendent that "he had no instructions to prosecute." He, too, was
speedily off, and the prisoners were necessarily discharged out of
custody.
I saw about three weeks afterwards in a morning paper that Mr. Malvern,
"whom the birth of a posthumous heir in a direct line had necessarily
deprived of all chance of succession to the Redwood estates, and the
baronetcy, which the newspapers had so absurdly conferred on him, was,
with his amiable lady and family, about to leave England for Italy,
where they intended to remain some time." The expressed, but uncompleted
will of the deceased baronet, Sir Thomas Redwood, had been, it was
further stated, carried into effect, and the legacy intended for Mr.
Malvern paid over to him. The Williams's never, to my knowledge,
attained to the dignity of a notice in the newspapers; but I believe
they pursued their original intention of passing over to America.
Thus not only "Offence's gilded hand," but some of the best feelings of
our nature, not unfrequently, "shove by Justice," and place a concealing
gloss over deeds which, in other circumstances, would have infallibly
consigned the perpetrators to a prison, or perhaps the hulks. Whether,
however, any enactment could effectually grapple with an abuse which
springs from motives so natural and amiable, is a question which I must
leave to wiser heads than mine to discuss and determine.