The Defiance of Frances Dickinson, page 26
A noticeable effect was produced in the court, The Times reported, visibly shocking the judge, but Dr Addams went on: Ay, I do not mind; I will read it all (repeating the words); I am horrified at being obliged to go through this disgusting case but the fault is not mine.
To which the judge replied: I can hear no more, I am disgusted. It is quite disgraceful to the court, the public, and the profession. The manner in which this case had been argued is disgraceful.
But Dr Addams – ever my champion – would not let such a statement go unchallenged, saying, I protest against your observation, sir; and I treat it with disgust.
Will I not forever be shunned as the wife who brought such things into the light of public exposure, things that I have been told, over and over, should never have been spoken of, things that I should not even know of? As if it is my knowledge rather than John’s crimes that are subject to judgement?
* * *
Edmund has not come today, as he had intended. I cannot attribute his absence to the winter weather; the day has been unusually bright and mild, allowing the children to take a rare outing to the park this morning. But, really, we have seen less of Edmund here than we did at Hammersmith. After our discovery there by John’s emissaries, I had thought that taking lodgings closer to Town might make it easier for our loyal friends to call, albeit under the usual precautions to avoid detection. But our circle of acquaintance grows ever smaller; even some of our oldest neighbours sent no Christmas greetings to Farley Hill this year, Mother wrote, having returned there for a time alone. I could not bear it if one so loyal to the friendless as Edmund should desert me at the end.
Edmund Ffarington
Middle Temple, London
January 1848
22nd January
My dear Fanny,
My apologies for not coming to call on you yesterday. I was unavoidably detained here in chambers, having received word by Saturday’s late post that requires me to travel north later today.
You may recall my hopes of being appointed to the Northern Circuit? Well, I have received my summons to Manchester and expect forthwith that my time will be divided between Temple and, chiefly, the courts of Manchester and Preston. I am sorry not to bid you farewell in person but hope to return to Town in a few weeks’ time, in this first instance, and will ensure I pay a call to Dorset Square, or wherever you may then be staying, if you will let me know.
I hope you are heartened by the most recent reportage of the proceedings. Addams made a strong impression, I thought, in drawing the court’s attention to the dearth of witness statements that John’s side had procured at Dumbuck, and hence that side’s dependence on the entirely unreliable depositions of his sister and mother. Strange that there was no word from Nepean, which bears out the bad character you have always attributed to him, just as Mrs Nepean’s frightful assertions betray hers, also. By contrast, you have secured such a very strong set of depositions from among the Dumbuck servants that I am sure no judge could set them aside.
I will continue to follow the newspapers’ accounts in the remaining days of the case, although there may yet be a considerable delay before the judge delivers his ruling (and hope you will therefore prepare yourself for a further demand on your much-tested endurance).
I am sorry that, given my summons to the north, we are unlikely to spend as much time in company together as we have sometimes enjoyed in the past, but I must speak frankly, Fanny, when I say that I believe this is for the best, all things considered. Looking ahead to the summer, I know that it is Mother’s intention to invite you all to Woodvale, where I would hope to join the party for a short time, but I repeat that I think our friendship should proceed on a somewhat different footing, and I trust to the confidence established between us to ensure that you will not take this amiss but understand that the terribly unfortunate events in which you have been enmired – and, to a far lesser extent, in which I too have been caught up – can, alas, never be fully cast aside.
The ways of the world are ever a constraint on the natural feelings and inclinations of many who, in a more innocent state of civilisation, might enjoy greater freedoms than modern society allows. I write so, not to cause you any pain but rather, inspired by the transparency of our relations thus far, unsullied by any hint of transgression and entirely motivated by a sense of brotherly friendship, I take my departure with the clearest of conscience and with an enduring regard for one who has ever been a model of feminine rectitude, forbearance, and tenacity, in the face of unimagined adversity.
Believe me, Fanny, I remain ever your devoted friend and humble servant,
E. F. F.
Sir Herbert Jenner-Fust
Court of Arches, London
April 26, 1848
GEILS v. GEILS – Suit brought for judgement before Sir Herbert Jenner-Fust for restitution of conjugal rights, by the husband against the wife, in reply to which the wife pleaded cruelty, adultery, and unnatural practices upon herself, on the part of her husband, and prayed a separation on the three grounds.
Sir Herbert Jenner-Fust rules as follows:
It is quite impossible for the Court to hold that the ground of cruelty has been proved, there being no evidence, but a mere allegation of the fact. This disposes of the whole question as to cruelty; and leaving this part of the case, I proceed to the next charge, that of adultery. The adultery charged against Mr Geils with Elizabeth Campbell (now Millar), which was deposed to by several witnesses, including Campbell herself, was established, and consequently the condonation of the adultery with McPhee was removed, and Mrs Geils was entitled to a sentence of separation on this ground.
…
This brings the Court to the consideration of the third of the three grounds of the case, pleaded in the 31st Article, which everyone must regret that it should have been thought necessary to bring before the public. The question is, whether, under the circumstances which have been deposed to, there is proof that Mr Geils committed, or attempted to commit, unnatural practices with his wife, in the manner in which it is laid in the Allegation.
…
According to this article, repeated attempts of this kind had been made, at intervals, during the last year of their cohabitation. The purpose for which those attempts were made, Mrs Geils says, she was aware of, though she was not aware of the precise and exact nature of the crime, and consequently, as she alleges, though she recoiled from them, she submitted to them without complaint or mention to any person, partly from her husband’s injunctions not to tell, and partly from her fond reluctance to expose him to censure, though she felt the attempts to be criminal, hoping that he would desist.
Now her plea is that she submitted to these attempts, though she recoiled from them. If she submitted, what prevented their being successful? They were not successful until September; they were made, she recoiled from them, and yet submitted. This seems extraordinary conduct for a lady who had been married nearly seven years, and had had four children and several miscarriages; it is extraordinary, I say, that she should be a person of such “childlike simplicity” as that, when these attempts were made upon her, she should not have been aware of their nature. It is difficult to believe so great a degree of ignorance on the party of a lady acquainted with French and Italian, and who, according to Mrs Col. Geils and Mrs Nepean, had read books not suitable for a lady to read.
Her own plea is that she suffered during the last year of cohabitation repeated attempts of this kind; that she knew they were criminal, but did not know the nature or degree of the criminality, and she never thought of inquiring; that she submitted to these attempts until, in September, on suffering an assault “both more offensive as to the means and more successful as to the end” than the preceding, she became “so disgusted and alarmed” that she made a communication to her mother, and from her and their medical attendant learned the name and nature of the crime.
I confess this does appear to me a most extraordinary story. I must say that, if an accusation of this kind is brought against a person, he ought to have the fullest means of defending himself; the particular “means” alleged to have been used, ought to have been disclosed, which were more offensive, but in the end more successful, than the other attempts. But it is left in loose and indefinite terms, and the Court is to conjecture what is the difference between the previous attempts and the last attempt.
I must say this is a mode of pleading hardly consistent with the grave nature of the charge brought against this gentleman, and on which this Court, though not sitting as a court of criminal jurisdiction, is called upon to adjudicate, and by its sentence, drive him from society.
I cannot for the life of me believe that Mrs Geils could have understood the meaning and the extent of her plea. As I understand, it was attempted to be argued that the party has committed a criminal offence, formerly a capital offence, and for which he would now be liable to be expelled from the country. Under these circumstances, the court must have proof which would leave no doubt whatever upon its mind that the crime was committed; not merely that an attempt was made, but that the crime was committed and consummated. And upon what does it depend? Not upon an examination of the particeps criminis (or ‘partner in crime’ in more common parlance), if Mrs Geils may be so called, when she might have been subjected to cross-examination as to all the circumstances; but upon her answers, submitted in the form of written depositions, in which she simply denies that it is an invention by her, or that the facts are untruly pleaded by her, without any test being applied to her story by cross-examination.
…
I am not satisfied in my own mind that the charge is established against Mr Geils, and that the crime has been committed; and if I was satisfied, I should feel most extremely reluctant, for the sake of Mrs Geils herself, to pronounce a sentence which would declare that she had been a partaker in her husband’s guilt, for a partaker in his guilt she must be, if her story be true – not guilty with a full and complete knowledge of the crime, though she admits that she knew it was an offence of a criminal nature. I should be most reluctant for Mrs Geils’ own sake, and for the sake of the children who are descended from these parties, to pronounce that Mr Geils has been guilty of this crime.
But the most material part of this evidence, as it appears to me, is the medical and surgical evidence; and looking at this evidence, given by Mr Callaway, as well as subsequently by Mr Cooper and Dr Lever, gentlemen of eminence in their profession, they prove that it is absolutely and physically impossible for such an unnatural connection to take place without the passive consent and acquiescence of the woman, inasmuch as the least motion on her part would prevent it, and unless actual force was used – that is, actual violence, or the woman deprived of all power of resistance – they are of the opinion (at least, that is the result of their evidence) that such a connection could not take place. That she may have been mistaken, as suggested by Mr Geils, is, I think, very possible.
I must in justice to her, as well as to Mr Geils, say that the proof is not satisfactory to my mind. However disgraceful it was for Mr Geils to enter upon and discuss the subject, and speak in the manner he is said to have done, this is not sufficient to justify the Court in pronouncing him guilty of the grave offence laid to his charge. Suppose the case had come before a jury, would a jury have been of the opinion that the evidence was sufficient to convict? It must be recollected that there has been no cross-examination of the witness as to the expressions attributed to Mr Geils, upon which his confession and admission is founded.
Being of this opinion, without going into any recapitulation of the facts, I am of the opinion that Mr Geils has been guilty of adultery with two persons, McPhee and Campbell (McKichan having testified to deny any adultery on her part), but I am not satisfied that Mrs Geils is entitled to a separation on the grounds of cruelty. I pronounce that Mr Geils has been guilty of the crime of adultery, and that, on that ground alone, Mrs Geils is entitled to a sentence of separation.
Frances
Farley Hill Court, Berkshire
June 1848
May I say, dear Mrs Geils, what a delight it is to see you once more at Farley Hill? Mr Anderdon said.
Indeed, you may, I replied, but the delight is mine in welcoming you and your wife back here at last. You may well imagine what joy it brings me to have been restored to my first and true home – owing to you, dear sir, in no small part. But may I ask that you call me by the name by which you first knew me here, Dickinson?
Mr Anderdon inclined his head. Of course, Mrs Dickinson; understood.
And so began the most delightful afternoon that saw gathered in the gardens of Farley Hill Court some of our oldest friends – the Anderdons (although the old man of Farley Hall and his gracious wife have both passed since last I was here), dear Miss Mitford, Dr and Mrs Bulley among them. I had not thought to make such an occasion of my homecoming, having crept back at first: such is to be my fate, I fear, now that my name is forever linked with notoriety wherever newspapers are read. But Mother urged me to celebrate my return with those who still wished me well and I found I could not disappoint her.
Dr Addams, Mr Jennings, Cousin Frank and his wife, and the Woodvale Ffaringtons sent their apologies to Mother’s invitation, as did Edmund – now a man of Manchester, mostly – but I inferred no ill-will from such responses, accompanied as they were by warm expressions of genuine feeling. An invitation was also sent to Mr Puckle, asking him to enjoy the hospitality of Farley Hill if he could spare a few days from his labours, and of course included Mrs Puckle, too, although I had never encountered that lady. In truth, I found it hard to believe that such a person could exist, were it not for the fact that I knew there to be a Puckle Junior following in his father’s professional footsteps, but Mr Puckle’s note of acceptance had said that while she was grateful beyond measure, Mrs Puckle must decline to travel to Berkshire as it was ever her intention to keep the sacred hearth of the Puckle home unsullied by any knowledge of, or acquaintance with, her husband’s clients. This response, too, I chose not to view as a source of shame, and not only because of my overwhelming sense of gratitude towards Mr Puckle both for his efforts and his open, honest manner with me at all times. If his life’s companion preferred to keep her attention from being drawn into the world of wrong-dealing that was her husband’s bread and butter, it was not for me to insist she be reminded of it.
Mr Puckle arrived alone yesterday, then, striking me at first as a fish out of water in the countryside: he seems a man born to traverse city streets, to pass unremarked there that he might better observe and detect what he seeks. But I saw him walking the grounds before dinner last evening, and this morning after breakfast I again spied him from my window stopping to engage in conversation any person he encountered, as if gathering information was his pastime as much as his profession, so that I suspect by the time our guests arrived this afternoon he knew more of Farley Hill and its folk than I now do.
Indeed, there was one matter remaining on which I longed to draw out his knowledge and that I hoped his visit might give me an opportunity to raise with him. Despite my immense relief at the verdict, I still smarted under the harsh words about my testimony in the judge’s ruling. A visit from Mr Jennings to sign some papers regarding money matters had also forcibly reminded me that though I might call myself Dickinson and return home safely with my girls, I was still bound by the terms of my marriage settlement, meaning that John would retain £1200 per annum as his reward for securing my hand. Twelve hundred a year denied to me and my girls that he might spend as he wished, until his death! Now that the case was resolved in my favour, I felt the injustice of all that I had sacrificed more keenly than ever.
It is indeed a gross oversight that you have no recourse in English law, Mr Puckle said, when in the course of the afternoon’s festivities he and I wandered away from the others, crossing the lawn to the shade of the lime avenue.
You have touched on the precise matter I wish to ask you about, I said. What of Scottish law, Mr Puckle?
He stopped his strolling then and fixed me with his attentive gaze. But you are an Englishwoman, Mrs Dickinson, and were married in an English church?
Yes, but to a Scotchman, and domiciled in Scotland for most of my marriage. I asked Mr Anderdon about this once and he urged me to confine myself to English law, but now I wonder …
Mr Puckle nodded. You wonder?
Well, it is not for me to say, Mr Puckle – and I would not so much as imply this to anyone but you in whom I have the greatest trust—
Go on, dear lady, he said, encouragingly.
Well, to be blunt, I wondered if Mr Anderdon was as familiar with Scottish law as with English. I was struck, in living there so long, how woefully ignorant even educated English people may be about how different things are there.
And I declare myself one among them, Mr Puckle said. I admit I was much enlightened by the Scottish proctor in Glasgow with whom I conferred on your behalf. There are, indeed, significant differences in law, as you suggest, but the problem may be one of jurisdiction. That would be why Mr Anderdon advised you as he did, no doubt; believing that your case would be considered one for the English courts, concerning as it did an Englishwoman, a marriage in the English church and, perhaps not least, English property.
I see what you mean, Mr Puckle, I said, but amongst all the grand deceits of Mrs Nepean and her mother in their depositions was one that always puzzled me, so unnecessary did it seem.
Mr Puckle smiled encouragement, nodding once more.
Both ladies repeatedly gave the impression that I was a mere visitor at Dumbuck House and exaggerated my absences at Farley Hill during my marriage when, as you know, John was ever reluctant for me to leave Scotland at all.
Mr Puckle’s eyebrows had quite miraculously lifted as I spoke, in a way that would have been comical if I did not believe that such a response suggested he had come to a realisation that might be to my benefit.
