THE OXFORD ASSIZES.
April, as cloudless and almost as warm as summer, a day when all the
spring was swelling sweet in all the young buds and primroses, and the
broad dewy country smiled and glistened under the rising of that sun,
which day by day shone warmer and fuller on the woods and on the fields.
But the point of interest was not the country; it was not a spring
festival which drew so many interested faces along the high-road. An
expectation not half so amiable was abroad among the gentry of
Banburyshire--a great many people, quite an unusual crowd, took their
way to the spring assizes to listen to a trial which was not at all
important on its own account. The defendants were not even known among
the county people, nor was there much curiosity about them. It was a
family quarrel which roused the kind and amiable expectations of all
these excellent people,--The Honourable Anastasia Rivers against Lord
Winterbourne. It was popularly anticipated that Miss Anastasia herself
was to appear in the witness-box, and everybody who knew the
belligerents, delighted at the prospect of mischief, hastened to be
present at the fight.
And there was a universal gathering, besides, of all the people more
immediately interested in this beginning of the war. Lord Winterbourne
himself, with a certain ghastly levity in his demeanour, which sat ill
upon his bloodless face, and accorded still worse with the mourner’s
dress which he wore, graced the bench. Charlie Atheling sat in his
proper place below, as agent for the defendant, within reach of the
counsel for the same. His mother and sisters were with Miss Anastasia,
in a very favourable place for seeing and hearing; the Rector was not
far from them, very much interested, but exceedingly surprised at the
unchanging paleness of Agnes, and the obstinacy with which she refused
to meet his eye; for that she avoided him, and seemed overwhelmed by
some secret and uncommunicated mystery, which no one else, even in her
own family, shared, was clear enough to a perception quickened by the
extreme “interest” which Lionel Rivers felt in Agnes Atheling. Even
Rachel had been brought thither in the train of Miss Anastasia; and
though rather disturbed by her position, and by the disagreeable and
somewhat terrifying consciousness of being observed by Lord
Winterbourne, in whose presence she had not been before, since the time
she left the Hall--Rachel, with her veil over her face, had a certain
timid enjoyment of the bustle and novelty of the scene. Louis, too, was
there, sent down on the previous night with a commission from Mr Foggo;
there was no one wanting. The two or three who knew the tactics of the
day, awaited their disclosure with great secret excitement, speculating
upon their effect; and those who did not, looked on eagerly with
interest and anxiety and hope.
Only Agnes sat drawing back from them, between her mother and sister,
letting her veil hang with a pitiful unconcern in thick double folds
half over her pale face. She did not care to lift her eyes; she looked
heavy, wretched, spiritless; she could not keep her thoughts upon the
smiling side of the picture; she thought only of the sudden blow about
to fall--of the bitter sense of deception and craftiness, of the
overwhelming disappointment which this day must bring forth.
The case commenced. Lord Winterbourne’s counsel stated the plea of his
noble client; it did not occupy a very long time, for no one supposed it
very important. The statement was, that Miss Bridget Atheling had been
presented by the late Lord Winterbourne with a life-interest in the
little property involved; that the Old Wood Lodge, the only property in
the immediate neighbourhood which was not in the peaceful possession of
Lord Winterbourne, had never been separated or alienated from the
estate; that, in fact, the gift to Miss Bridget was a mere tenant’s
claim upon the house during her lifetime, with no power of bequest
whatever; and the present Lord Winterbourne’s toleration of its brief
occupancy by the persons in possession, was merely a good-humoured
carelessness on the part of his lordship of a matter not sufficiently
important to occupy his thoughts. The only evidence offered was the
distinct enumeration of the Old Wood Lodge along with the Old Wood
House, and the cottages in the village of Winterbourne, as in possession
of the family at the accession of the late lord; and the learned
gentleman concluded his case by declaring that he confidently challenged
his opponent to produce any deed or document whatever which so much as
implied that the property had been bestowed upon Bridget Atheling. No
deed of gift--no conveyance--nothing whatever in the shape of
title-deeds, he was confident, existed to support the claim of the
defendant; a claim which, if it was not a direct attempt to profit by
the inadvertence of his noble client, was certainly a very ugly and
startling mistake.
So far everything was brief enough, and conclusive enough, as it
appeared. The audience was decidedly disappointed: if the answer was
after this style, there was no “fun” to be expected, and it had been an
entire hoax which seduced the Banburyshire notabilities to waste the
April afternoon in a crowded court-house. But Miss Anastasia, swelling
with anxiety and yet with triumph, was visible to every one; visible
also to one eye was something very different--Agnes, pale, shrinking,
closing her eyes, looking as if she would faint. The Rector made his way
behind, and spoke to her anxiously. He was afraid she was ill; could he
assist her through the crowd? Agnes turned her face to him for a moment,
and her eyes, which looked so dilated and pitiful, but only said “No,
no,” in a hurried whisper, and turned again. The counsel on the other
side had risen, and was about to begin the defence.
“My learned brother is correct, and doubtless knows himself to be so,”
said the advocate of the Athelings. “We have no deed to produce, though
we have something nearly as good; but, my lord, I am instructed suddenly
to change the entire ground of my plea. Certain information which has
come to the knowledge of my clients, but which it was not their wish to
make public at present, has been now communicated to me; and I beg to
object at once to the further progress of the suit, on a ground which
your lordship will at once acknowledge to be just and forcible. I
assert that the present bearer of the title is not the true Lord
Winterbourne.”
There rose immediately a hum and murmur of the strangest character--not
applause, not disapproval--simple consternation, so extreme that no one
could restrain its utterance. People rose up and stared at the speaker,
as if he had been seized with sudden madness in their presence; then
there ensued a scene of much tumult and agitation. The judges on the
bench interposed indignantly. The counsel for Lord Winterbourne sprang
to his feet, appealing with excitement to their lordships--was this to
be permitted? Even the audience, Lord Winterbourne’s neighbours, who had
no love for him, pressed forward as if to support him in this crisis,
and with resentment and disapproval looked upon Miss Anastasia, to whom
every one turned instinctively, as to a conspirator who had overshot the
mark. It was scarcely possible for the daring speaker to gain himself a
hearing. When he did so, at last, it was rather as a culprit than an
accuser. But even the frown of a chief-justice did not appal a man who
held Charlie Atheling’s papers in his hands; he was heard again,
declaring, with force and dignity, that he was incapable of making such
a statement without proofs in his possession which put it beyond
controversy. He begged but a moment’s patience, in justice to himself
and to his client, while he placed an abstract of the case and the
evidence in their lordships’ hands.
Then to the sudden hum and stir, which the officials of the court had
not been able to put down, succeeded that total, strange, almost
appalling stillness of a crowd, which is so very impressive at all
times. While the judges consulted together, looking keenly over these
mysterious papers, almost every eye among the spectators was riveted
upon them. No one noticed even Lord Winterbourne, who stood up in his
place unconsciously, overlooking them all, quite unaware of the
prominence and singularity of his position, gazing before him with a
motionless blank stare, like a man looking into the face of Fate. The
auditors waited almost breathless for the decision of the law. That
anything so wild and startling could ever be taken into consideration by
those grave authorities was of itself extraordinary; and as the
consultation was prolonged, the anxiety grew gradually greater. Could
there be reality in it? could it be true?
At last the elder judge broke the silence. “This is a very serious
statement,” he said: “of course, it involves issues much more important
than the present question. As further proceedings will doubtless be
grounded on these documents, it is our opinion that the hearing of this
case had better be adjourned.”
Lord Winterbourne seated himself when he heard the voice--it broke the
spell; but not so Louis, who stood beneath, alone, looking straight up
at the speaker in his judicial throne. The truth flashed to the mind of
Louis like a gleam of lightning. He did not ask a question, though
Charlie was close by him; he did not turn his head, though Miss
Anastasia was within reach of his eye; his whole brain seemed to burn
and glow; the veins swelled upon his forehead; he raised up his head for
air, for breath, like a man overwhelmed; he did not see how the gaze of
half the assembly began to be attracted to himself. In this sudden pause
he stood still, following out the conviction which burst upon him--this
conviction, which suddenly, like a sunbeam, made all things clear. Wrong
as he had been in the details, his imagination was true as the most
unerring judgment. For what child in the world was it so much this man’s
interest to disgrace and disable as the child whose rights he
usurped--his brother’s lawful heir? This silence was like a lifetime to
Louis, but it ended in a moment. Some confused talking
followed--objections on the part of Lord Winterbourne’s representative,
which were overruled; and then another case was called--a common little
contest touching mere lands and houses--and every one awoke, as at the
touch of a disenchanting rod, to the common pale daylight and common
controversy, as from a dream.
Then the people streamed out in agitated groups, some retaining their
first impulse of contradiction and resentment; others giving up at once,
and receiving the decision of the judges as final. Then Agnes looked
back, with a sick and trembling anxiety, for the Rector. The Rector was
gone; and they all followed one after another, silent in the great
tremor of their excitement. When they came to the open air, Marian began
to ask questions eagerly, and Rachel to cry behind her veil, and cast
woeful wistful looks at Miss Anastasia. What was it? what was the
matter? was it anything about Louis? who was Lord Winterbourne?