Ten Thousand a-Year. Volume 3

Then he took another sheet of paper, and wrote thus:

"Dear Viper,—I doubt whether, after all, there will be a Dissolution; but, at any rate, I will perform my promise, and be ready with what you wish for Sunday week.—Yours ever,

"O. G.

"P. S.—I shall call upon you on Saturday, without fail."

This he folded up and directed, and proceeded to commence the following:—

"Thavies' Inn, Wednesday.

"Dear Sir,—I have finally determined to make every sacrifice in order to extricate myself, with honor, from my present embarrassments. You will, therefore, as soon as you get this, please to sell out all my"–

Here he laid down his pen; and Mrs. Brown presently announcing that everything was ready in his dressing-room, he thanked her, and proceeded to shave and dress. He was not more than a quarter of an hour over his toilet. He had put on his usual evening dress—his blue body-coat, black trousers, a plain shirt and black stock, and a white waistcoat—scarcely whiter, however, than the face of him who wore it.

"I am going for the coach now, sir," said Mrs. Brown, knocking at the door.

"If you please," he replied briskly and cheerfully—and the instant that he had heard her close the outer door after her, he opened the secret spring drawer in his desk, and took out a very small glass phial, with a glass stopper, over which was tied some bladder to preserve its contents from the air; then he carefully closed the drawer. His face was ghastly pale; his knees trembled; his hands were cold and damp as those of the dead. He took a strong peppermint lozenge from the mantelpiece, and chewed it, while he removed the stopper from the bottle, which contained about half a dram of the most subtle and potent poison which has been discovered by man—one extinguishing life almost instantaneously, and leaving no trace of its presence except a slight odor, which he had taken the precaution of masking and overpowering with that of the peppermint. He returned to get his hat, which was in his dressing-room; he put it on—and in glancing at the glass, scarcely recognized the ghastly image which it reflected. His chief object was, to complete the deception he intended practising on the Insurance Company, with whom he had effected a policy on his life for £2,000—and also to delude everybody into the notion of his having died suddenly, but naturally. Having stirred up the large red fire, and made a kind of hollow in it, he took out the stopper, and dropped it, with the bladder, which had been tied over it, into the fire. Then he took his pen in his right hand with a fresh dip of ink in it; kneeled down on the fender, close to the fire; faintly whispered "Oh, Emma!" poured the whole of the deadly poison into his mouth, and succeeded in dropping the phial into the very heart of the fire—falling down the next instant on the hearth-rug, oblivious, insensible—dead. However it might have been, that the moment after he had done this direful deed, he would have GIVEN THE WHOLE UNIVERSE, had it been his, to have undone what he had done—he had succeeded, for the present, in effecting his object.

Poor Mrs. Brown's terror, on discovering her master stretched senseless on the floor—his hat pushed partly down over his eyes in the act of falling—may be imagined. Medical assistance was called in, but only to announce that "the vital spark had fled." It was clearly either apoplexy, said the intelligent medical man, or an organic disease of the heart. Of this opinion were the astute coroner and his jury, without hesitation. The deceased had evidently been seized while in the very act of writing to some broker. [Gammon had no more "stock" of any sort, for all he had written that letter, than the cat which had unconsciously witnessed, and been for a moment disturbed by, his death.] Mr. Hartley came, and producing the note which he had received, spoke of the disappointment which they had all felt on account of Mr. Gammon's non-arrival. The other letters—the appointments which he had made for the morrow—the evidence which he had taken care to enable his laundress to give—all these things were decisive—it was really "scarcely a case requiring an inquest;" but as they had been called, they returned a verdict of "Died by the Visitation of God." He was buried, a few days afterwards, in the adjoining churchyard, (St. Andrew's,) where he lies mouldering away quietly enough, certainly; but whether (in the language of the solemn and sublime burial-service which his successful fraud had procured to be read over his remains) "in sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life, through our Lord Jesus Christ," is another, and a fearful question.

His "friend" was faithful and discreet, obeying the injunctions of the deceased to the letter. The "individual" alluded to in Mr. Gammon's note to him, was a beautiful girl whom Mr. Gammon had seduced under a solemn promise of marriage; who was passionately attached to him; whose name he had uttered when on the eve of death; and to whom he had, some six months before, bequeathed the amount of the policy—his will being witnessed by Mary Brown, his housekeeper. Though his creditors were, of course, entitled to every farthing of the £2,000, out of which he had so artfully swindled the Insurance Company, they generously allowed her, in consideration of her peculiar and melancholy situation, and of the will which Mr. Gammon had made in her favor, to receive the sum of three hundred pounds. It sufficed to support her during the few months of suffering and shame which were allotted to her upon earth, after the death of her betrayer; not far from whose remains were then deposited the blighted beauty of her whom he had loved only to destroy.

CHAPTER XI

With its architect, fell that surprising fabric of fraud and wrong, the rise and fall of which are commemorated in this history—a fabric which, if it had "risen like an exhalation," so like an exhalation had disappeared, and with it all the creatures which had peopled it. Though Mr. Runnington's vigilance and ability had set matters into such a train, that, had Mr. Gammon lived to continue his most skilful opposition, he could not have delayed for any considerable length of time Mr. Aubrey's restoration to Yatton, yet the sudden and most unexpected death of Mr. Gammon greatly accelerated that event. Notwithstanding the verdict of the coroner's inquest, both Mr. Aubrey and Mr. Runnington—and in fact very many others—strongly suspected the true state of the case; viz. that, in the desperation of defeat and dreaded exposure, he had destroyed himself.

Towards the close of the term, Mr. Runnington went to the proper office of the Court of King's Bench, in order to ascertain whether Mr. Titmouse had taken the requisite steps towards defending the actions of ejectment commenced by Mr. Aubrey, and found that, though the prescribed period had elapsed, he had not; in other words, that he had "SUFFERED JUDGMENT BY DEFAULT." Delighted, though not much surprised by this discovery, Mr. Runnington resolved at once to follow up his victory. 'Twas only a short and simple process that was requisite to effect such great results. He took a single sheet of draft paper on which he wrote some half-dozen lines called an "incipitur," as if he were going to copy out the "declaration" in ejectment, but stopped short about the fifth line. This sheet of paper, together with another containing his "Rule for Judgment," he took to the Master's office, in order that that functionary might "SIGN JUDGMENT"—which he did by simply writing in the margin of what Mr. Runnington had written, the words—"Judgment signed, 23d November 18—," then impressing above it the seal of the court; and behold, at that instant, the property in the whole of the Yatton estates had become vested in Mr. Aubrey again!

The next step requisite was to secure the possession of the property; for which purpose Mr. Runnington immediately procured a WRIT OF POSSESSION, (i.e. a writ requiring the sheriff of Yorkshire to put Mr. Aubrey into actual possession,) to be engrossed on a slip of parchment. This he got sealed; and then obtained a WARRANT from the sheriff to his officers, to execute the writ. Now the sheriff might, had it been necessary, have roused—nay, was bound to do so—the whole posse comitatus, in order to compel submission to his authority; and I can assure the reader that the whole posse comitatus would have answered his summons on that occasion very eagerly—but it was needless. Who was there to resist him at Yatton? The transference of the possession became under these circumstances a very slight matter-of-fact affair, and went off in this wise. The under-sheriff of Yorkshire drove up in his gig to the Hall, where he found Mr. Parkinson waiting his arrival—(no breaking open of doors was necessary!)—and in a word or two, informed Mr. Parkinson, with a smile, that he then delivered the possession to him for and on account of Charles Aubrey, Esquire, his heirs and assigns, forever—and after remarking, "what a fine estate it was, and in very good order, considering," he drove off. I may add, that to save the useless expense of some hundred writs of possession, "attornments" were taken from all the tenants—i. e. written acknowledgments that they held under Charles Aubrey, Esquire, as their sole, true, and proper landlord. This done, that gentleman was reinstated in all that he had been dispossessed of, as absolutely, and to all intents and purposes, as if the events of the last three years had been but a dream—as if such persons as Tittlebat Titmouse, and Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, had never existed; and Mr. Griffiths the steward, and Mr. Parkinson, by way of commemorating the event, opened a couple of bottles of port-wine, which, with the efficient assistance of Mr. Waters and Mr. Dickons, the upper and under bailiffs, Tonson the gamekeeper, and Pumpkin the gardener, were very quickly emptied amid shouts—in which 'tis hoped the good-natured reader will join—of "Hip, hip, hip, hurrah!—Hip, hip, hip, hurrah!—Hip, hip, hip, hurrah! hurrah! HURRAH!" Then phlegmatic Mr. Dickons stepped out into the court-yard, and, by way of further relieving his excited feelings, flung his heavy ashen walking-stick up a surprising height into the air; and when he had caught it on its descent, as he grasped it in his huge horny hand in silence, he shook it above his head with the feeling that he could have smashed a million of Titmice in a minute, if he could have got among them. Then he thought of Mrs. Aubrey and Kate, and up went the stick again, higher even than before—by which time they had all come out into the yard, and shouted again, and again, and again, till their voices rang and echoed in the air, and raised an uproar in the rookery behind them.

While this result of his triumphant exertions was being thus celebrated at Yatton, Mr. Runnington was stirring himself to the utmost in London, in order to extricate Mr. Aubrey from all his pecuniary embarrassments—the chief of which were, his two promissory notes for £5,000 each, with interest, and the actions depending upon them—the joint bond of himself and Lord De la Zouch for £10,000 and interest—and the action pending for the balance of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap's bill—viz. £1,446, 14s. 6d. Undoubtedly, these matters occasioned him a vast deal of trouble and anxiety; but his experienced tact, and vigilance, and determination, overcame all obstacles. The balance of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap's abominable bill of costs, melted away and totally disappeared in the heat of the taxing-office; and with the aid of certain summary applications, both to the Lord Chancellor and to the common-law judges, and after a good deal of diplomacy, Mr. Runnington succeeded in getting into his hands, cancelled, the above-mentioned two notes, on payment to Mr. Spitfire, for and on account of Mr. Titmouse, of £250, (of which Mr. Titmouse, by the way, got £15, the remainder being claimed by Spitfire in respect of costs.) The bond for ten thousand pounds, which was found in the strong box of the late Mr. Gammon, was delivered up by Messrs. Quirk and Snap, on certain hints being given them by Mr. Runnington of the serious consequences of refusal. Not satisfied with this, Mr. Runnington obtained from Mr. Titmouse a formal and solemn release and discharge, to Mr. Aubrey, his heirs, executors, and administrators, of all claims, debts, damages, sums of money, demands, costs, charges, bills, bonds, notes, accounts, reckonings, expenses, judgments, executions, actions, and suits whatsoever, either at law or in equity. But how stood the matter of Mr. Titmouse's liabilities to Mr. Aubrey, in respect of the mesne profits during the last two years and more? Why, he owed Mr. Aubrey a sum of some twenty-five thousand pounds—not one farthing of which would ever see its way into the pockets of him who had been so cruelly defrauded of it! The greatest trouble of Mr. Runnington, however, was the extorting of the Yatton title-deeds from the three Jews, Mordecai Gripe, Israel Fang, and Mephibosheth Maharshalal-hash-baz. Unhappy wretches! they writhed and gasped as though their very hearts were being torn out; but they had no help for it, as their own attorneys and solicitors told them; since the right of Mr. Aubrey to his title-deeds was as clear and indisputable as his right to the estates, and their resistance of his claim would only entail on them additional, very serious, and fruitless expense. They grinned, chattered, stuttered, and stamped about in impotent but horrible fury; and, if they could, would have torn Mr. Gammon out of his grave, and placed his body, and those of Messrs. Quirk and Snap, over a slow fire!

These gentlemen, were not, however, the only persons who had been astounded, dismayed, and defeated, by Mr. Gammon's leap into the dark. To say nothing of Mr. Wigley, who might now whistle for his debt and costs, and many other persons who had rested all their hopes upon Mr. Gammon's powers, and his responsibility, his sudden death precipitated total ruin upon his weak aristocratical dupe and victim, the poor old Earl of Dreddlington. In addition to the formidable movement against the earl and Mr. Gammon in the Court of Chancery, on the part of their co-shareholders and adventurers, for the purpose of securing them to be declared alone liable for all the debts contracted by the Gunpowder and Fresh Water Company, the creditors, rendered impatient and desperate by the sudden death of Mr. Gammon, began to attempt daily to harass the unfortunate earl with their personal importunity for payment of their demands, and that at his residence in Grosvenor Square and at Poppleton Hall. At the former they were, of course, uniformly encountered by the answer that his Lordship was both ill and out of town. Upon that, down to his Lordship's nearest country residence—viz. Poppleton—went the chief of his infuriate creditors, not believing the answer they had received at his Lordship's town-house; but at Poppleton, the earl was of course denied to them, and with a peremptoriness of manner, which, excited as they were, they converted into insolence and defiance, and a determined denial to his Lordship's creditors. Upon this, they took the opinion of counsel upon three points. First, whether a peer of the realm could be made a bankrupt if he became a trader; Secondly, whether the Earl of Dreddlington's active connection with the Gunpowder and Fresh Water Company constituted him a trader within the meaning of the bankrupt laws; and Lastly, whether the facts stated amounted to an act of bankruptcy. To this it was answered—First, that a peer could clearly be made a bankrupt if he traded, as an Earl of Suffolk had been declared a bankrupt by reason of an act of bankruptcy committed by him in buying and selling of wines, (per Lord Chancellor Hardwicke, in ex parte Meymot, 1 Atkyn's Reports, p. 201.) Secondly, that the Gunpowder and Fresh Water Company was one of such a nature as constituted its members "traders" within the meaning of the bankrupt laws. Thirdly, that the facts stated showed the committing of an act of bankruptcy, on the part of the Earl of Dreddlington, by "beginning to keep his house." Upon this, the more eager and reckless of his Lordship's creditors instantly struck a docket against him: and thereupon, down came the messenger of the court to take possession of his Lordship's houses and effects, both Grosvenor Square, Poppleton Hall, and in Cornwall, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland—that is, as to the last four, if he could discover them. At Poppleton he was sternly refused admission; on which he produced his authority, and protested that, if further denied, he would immediately proceed to effect an entrance by main force, come what might, and those within must take the consequences!—After a brief affrighted pause on the part of those within, he was admitted—and immediately declared himself to be in possession, under the bankruptcy, and by the authority of the Lord Chancellor, of the premises, and everything upon them; at the same time announcing to the dismayed inmates, that he would do nothing to give the slightest annoyance, or occasion apprehensions to the noble bankrupt personally. This very unusual occurrence found its way into the newspapers of the next day, which brought, accidentally, under the notice of Mr. Aubrey, the lamentable condition of his haughty yet fallen kinsman. He hurried off in alarm and agitation to Mr. Runnington, and requested him immediately to put himself into communication with the earl's solicitor, whoever he might be, with a view to saving him, if possible, from the indignity and ruin with which he was threatened; and then himself drove down to Poppleton, to tender his services in any way that might appear most desirable. He was shocked indeed at finding the house, and everything in it, in formal possession of the bankruptcy messenger; but much more so, on learning the deplorable condition of the earl personally. It appeared that he had most unfortunately witnessed, during a brief lucid interval, and while he was being assisted out of his carriage on his return from an airing, the arrival of the messenger, and his altercation with the servants at the door; and that, on being made acquainted with the true nature of the proceeding, he staggered back into the arms of Miss Macspleuchan, and was soon afterwards seized with another fit of paralysis. All this Mr. Aubrey, on his arrival, learned from Miss Macspleuchan—whom he knew only by name—and who communicated the dismal tidings in an agony of grief and agitation. The physician and apothecary were with the earl when Mr. Aubrey arrived; and finding that he could render no personal service to his suffering kinsman, he returned to town, assuring Miss Macspleuchan that she would see him again on the morrow—and that he would, in the mean while, do all in his power to avert from the earl the immediate effects of his fearful imprudence. Faithful to his promise, he instructed Mr. Runnington to do everything in reason to rescue the earl, and, in his person, the honor of the family, from the impending misfortune. 'Twas, however, all in vain. Two days afterwards, and before Mr. Runnington had acted upon the instructions given to him by Mr. Aubrey, the latter received intelligence by express from Poppleton, that the earl was in dying circumstances; that he was conscious of his rapidly approaching end; and was understood to have expressed a wish to see Mr. Aubrey before he died. When he arrived, he was at once ushered into the earl's bedchamber, and found the Duke of Tantallan sitting on one side of the bed, and Miss Macspleuchan on the other; she was weeping in silence, and her left hand was grasped between the thin white hands of the earl, whose face was turned towards her. His snow-white hair and wasted features, and the expression of mingled misery, feebleness, and affection that were in his eyes, fixed heavily upon Miss Macspleuchan, filled Mr. Aubrey with deep emotion. The earl seemed a mere skeleton! Shortly after Mr. Aubrey had entered the room, Miss Macspleuchan leaned down to the earl's ear, and, in a whisper, informed him of Mr. Aubrey's arrival. He did not seem at first to have heard, or at least comprehended, what she had said; but, a few moments afterwards, opened his eyes a little wider than they had been before, and his lips quivered as if with an effort at speaking. Then he very feebly extended both his thin arms towards Miss Macspleuchan, who was still leaning over him, and placed them tremblingly round her neck, from which, however, in a moment or two, they suddenly fell; the lower jaw also fell; the poor earl was dead—and Miss Macspleuchan, with a faint sigh, sank back in a swoon into the arms of the nurse who stood beside her, and who, assisted by a female attendant, immediately removed her from the room. The Duke of Tantallan remained sitting where he was, but with his face averted, and his right hand clasping one of the hands of his deceased kinsman: and Mr. Aubrey continued standing at the foot of the bed, his eyes covered by his hand. Neither of them spoke for some time. At length the duke, very deeply affected, slowly rose, and quitted the chamber in silence, followed by Mr. Aubrey, as those entered who were to commence the last sad offices for the dead.

The duke undertook all the arrangements for the funeral; and after much melancholy conversation with his Grace concerning the shocking state in which the earl had left his affairs, and having offered to provide, should it be necessary, for Miss Macspleuchan, Mr. Aubrey took his departure.

"Is the carriage at the door?" he inquired of the servant who stood in the hall expecting his approach.

"Yes, my Lord," he replied; and his words caused Lord Drelincourt almost to start back a step or two; and he changed color. Then he entered his carriage, and continued in a very melancholy and subdued mood during the whole of the drive up to town. He had, indeed, now become Lord Drelincourt—an event thus announced the next morning to the great world, in the columns of the obsequious Aurora.

"Yesterday, at his residence, Poppleton Hall, Hertfordshire, in his seventieth year, died the Right Hon. the Earl of Dreddlington, G.C.B., F.C.S., &c. &c. His Lordship was Fifth Earl of Dreddlington, and Twentieth Baron Drelincourt. The Earldom (created in 1667) is now extinct; but his Lordship is succeeded in the ancient barony of Drelincourt (created by writ, 12th Henry II.) by Charles Aubrey, Esq. of Yatton, in Yorkshire, the representative of the younger branch of the family, who is now 21st Lord Drelincourt, and has just succeeded in establishing his title to the whole of the Yatton property, which about two years ago, it may be remembered, was recovered in a very extraordinary manner (which is now, we believe, the subject of judicial inquiry) by Tittlebat Titmouse, Esq., at present M.P. for Yatton.

His Lordship (whois now in his thirty-sixth year) took a double first-class at Oxford, and sat for several years as member for Yatton. He married, in 18—, Agnes, sole daughter and heiress of the late Colonel St. Clair, who fell in the Peninsular war, and has issue by her Ladyship two children, Charles, born in 18—, and Agnes, born in 18—. His Lordship has no brothers, and only one sister, Miss Catharine Aubrey, who is understood to be affianced to the Hon. Mr. Delamere, the only son and heir of the Right Hon. Lord De la Zouch."

Till Yatton could be got ready for their reception, they had taken, as a temporary residence, a furnished house in Dover Street, only a few doors' distance from that of Lord De la Zouch; and on his arrival from Poppleton Hall, Lord Drelincourt found Lady Drelincourt and his sister had not yet returned from their afternoon's drive. When they drew up to the door, however, the closed shutters and drawn blinds apprised them of the melancholy event which had taken place. On hearing that Lord Drelincourt was alone in the drawing-room, where he had been for upwards of an hour, they rushed hastily up-stairs, and in a few moments Lord and Lady Drelincourt had fondly embraced each other, and Miss Aubrey, full of eager affection, had embraced both of them; and then, quitting the room, quickly returned with Charles and Agnes, now—little unconscious creatures!—the Honorable Charles and Honorable Agnes Aubrey. Surely it was not to be expected that any of them should entertain very poignant feelings of sorrow for the death of an individual who had ever totally estranged himself from them, and treated every member of their family with the most offensive and presumptuous insolence—with the bitterest contempt; who, when he knew that they were destitute and all but perishing, had kept cruelly aloof as ever, without once extending towards them a helping hand. Still they had regarded the afflicting circumstances which attended, and hastened, their lofty kinsman's death, with sincere commiseration for one so weak and misguided, and whose pride had had, indeed, so signal and fearful a fall. These were topics which afforded scope for sad but instructive conversation and reflection; and before Lord and Lady Drelincourt had laid their heads on their pillows that night, they again devoutly returned thanks to Heaven for the happy restoration which had been vouchsafed to them, and offered sincere and fervent prayers for its guidance in every stage of their future career.