The Sun.
London, England, 1858-11-25 00:00:00

AY EVENING, NOVEMBER 25, 1858.

was in the habit of improperly consorting with other
women. She acted on that belief by insisting on ac-
companying him wherever he went, and on seeing
his letters, and nothing that he did could dispel her
delusion. She stated thdt her suspicions were
aroused by a certain letter which had fallen into
her hands. That • letter should be put into Mr.
Marchmont's hands; he would tell them everything
he knew about, and would not shrink from the
fullest investigation. On the 27th occurred what
she called " a dreadful quarrel," which was followed
by the gift of the £220: The quarrel would be de-
scribed by one of the servants who saw it. The
gockl-humoured letter which, he wrote at Prescott's
corroborated the view he was presenting, that his
conduct was uniformly kind and coaxing. On the
19th March she left the house again, and went to
Mrs. Mackenzie:, the nurse, in consequence, as she
said, of a quarrel about the house. During her stay
with Mr. Walmisley, he had received a contumelious
letter from the trustees, desiring.him to leave the
house, and he dhired to be made a tenant to the
trustees at a rent. The cause she assigned to
the servant for • going was that he had left the
house after kissing the children Without bestowing
a kind look upon her. Mrs. Mackenzie told them
that Mrs. Mare4mOnt was Very iltwhen she arrived,
but why was riot Pr. Bird -called,Ao would have
been able to contrticlict ov to confirm Mrs. Mac-
kenzie ? Her +Nan .capriee'was the'only reason for
her visit to Mrs. Mackenzie, and her husband had
a right to insist upon her return: It was very well
to talk about his having married her for money ;
but what moral blame could attach to d'man for
marrying a good-looking widow who was violently
attached to him, and who had no claims upon her
fortune, for the- purpose, not of leading a life of
luxurjr;,but of advancing his children? He made
heavy sacrifices for her ; he took upon himself part
of the expenses of the household and the mainten-
ance of his own Children, and the whole of her pro-
peOy was settled upon her. After her return from
Mrs. Mackenzie's there was the scene about the
will, in which, according. to her own statement,
there was nothing improper in Mr. Marchinont's
conduct. She-afterwards flounced out of the:house
again without any provocation. With regard to
the language upon which somuchreliance appeared
to be placed, Mr. Marchmont would never cease to
regret having-used it, although under great provo-
cation, but it would be proved .that Mrs. March-
mont herself used language which no woman of de-
licacy would 'ever have uttered. The language, too,
however improper, was not sufficient .of itself to
• substantihte a Charge of cruelty. On the 15th May
the request. was made for 0, loan of 1:45., and the
mode in whichnhe received it was an excellent ex-
emplification of hex:character. She screamed and
rang for the servants. When the scene was over
they drove into. the city, and while he was in a
money-order office off she went, and he could not
:find her for some hours. He saw her in Newgate-
street, and she rushed into a shop. She was so
violent that Mr. Marchmont was obliged to give
an explanation to the people in the shop, upon
which she again fired up. On the 25th May she
was at Mrs. 'Davis's, and as soon as that lady got
hold of her there was an end of all chance for Mr.
Marchmont. He was anxious that she should
return, because' one. of the children was She
was always fond, of the children, and 'treated them
as kindly as her stingy disposition would allow.
That was the best part of .her character, and al-
though she was sulking with her husband she re-
turned to him when she heard that one orthe chil-
dren was ill. t For a feW days they appeared to be
on good terms, but her suspicions as to his moral
character influenced her whole conduct. They slept
together, but she repelled him, because, as she said,
she was afraid that he might has'e been with other
women. It was this charge which almost mad-
dened him, especially When she repeated it in the
presence of a servant. On the 10th June he had
been obliged to go to Hai:Orton to correct some
proofs for the press. She imagined he had gone to
see some woman, and although they were quite
friendly, she went to .her lawyer. The next morn-
ing he asked whether she had been to her lawyer.
She refused to answer, and his wrath becoming
excited, he said he had a right to know. Thebell
was rung, another quarreltook place,hisanger was
aroused, and he no doubt used foul and improper
language. He: thisbeeause he was exasperated
by her behaviour, but he did no more, and she went
to a neighbour's house. She afterwards came out
of it ; he saw her, and lifted her over the wall into
the garden. She ran away, and was caught by her
husband and Mr. Mansfield and taken into the
house. That did not constitute cruelty. His learned
friend would have to make out not only that acts
of crueltylhad been committed in the preceding
winter, but also thatthose actswhich had been con-
doned bylsubsequent cohabitation were revived by
another act of cruelty on this 4th of June. It would
be seen from the evidence he would lay before them
that there was no pretence for any charge of cruelty
on that day.. When she became ill hr husband
attended on her, and did everything that could be
done for her : but she absolutely refused to have
efther a doctor or a nurse. That was not the con-
duct of a person who was in bodily fear. Mr. Mit-
chell at last came and prescribed, beef tea and wine,
which she was fortunately indused to take. or she
might have died of inanition and sulks.
In reply to the learned judge,
Mr. Macaulay said he intended to rely upon aegis
of condonation subsequent to the 4th of June. She
had voluntarily 'cohabited with her husband after
that date. With regard to the letters written after
their separation, was it not natural that, appalled
and horror-struck at the very idea of the exposures
which had now taken place, he should be willing
to go through any amount of humiliation in order
to avoid them ? He was content to take all the
blame of what had really. occurred upon himself,
but those letters contained not a single expression
to lead to the belief that he had been guilty of any
act of personal v iolence. A letter had fallen into
her hands, probably written by some malignant
mischief-maker or designing' and interested villain
for the purpose of, being 'seen by her, which had •
raised her suspicions; and he was anxious by any
means in his power to remote them. The learned
counsel concluded, by submitting 0. that no allegation
of cruelty had been substantiated, even on the evi-
dence •as it now stood, and that after they had
heard the evidence he was about to adduce they
would be of opinion that Mr. Marchmont had made
a complete answer to all the charges in the petition.
The first witness called was,
Mr. Henry Mirchmont, who had known
my wife about ten months before our marriage.
About five days before that event I received a letter
from her, desitiug me to' make arrangements for
our wedding at the Roman .Catholic cathedral in
the.l orough. had previously to that time been
minister of a chapel in the Lower-road, Islington.
I have received from it as much as £350, and as
little as £290; but I have always stated my income
from it at ,E3OO.- 'ln the month of May, 1857,
which had first been .fixed for our union, my wife
said she would not marry me so long as I kept the
chapel ; but that if I' would give it up she would, at
her own expense, build me a protestant church,
which she wouldnttend -with me and my family.
I earned with my:peri.as much as £1,200' in the year
1855. The year before the marriage I earned £7OO.
I have property worth £4OO ; in part of that,
however, I have only a • life interest, and it
goes to my children under the settlement

of my former marriage. The settlement for my
second marriage was prepared by Mr. Godwin, of
Essex-court. At m'di:sire all my wife's property
was settled upon her, in accordance with a wish I
had expressed to her in a letter on the 22d of April.
It was written at Mrs. Lockett's house, and given
to her. I afterwards found it with some other
papers left behind by Mrs. Marchmont. (The
letter was put in and read ; in it the respondent
suggested that his wife should appoint all her
trustees herself, provided that none of her relations
were selected. If she chose however to have re-.

lations, then he submitted that he ought to be
allowed to name his father.) I wrote that letter at
the request of Mrs. Marchmont. She wished to
show it to her friends, and thus exclude the appoint-
ment of Mr. Waliiiisley, to whoin she objected on
account of his extreme meanness. It was agreed
between us that T should keep a carriage and all
its appurtenances ; and that I should maintain my
children and. defray My personal expenses myself.
Another proposal was made to the effect that I
should allow her £500; but Mrs. Marchmont
eventually preferred .the .terms I. have stated.
When my wife was ill at Tunbridge Wells I begged
her to have a nurse, but she refused, and I attended
upon her myself. She was extremely irritable,
aggravating, suspicious, :and exacting as to the at-
tentions she required.. She expressed dissatisfac-
tion at everything I did. On the first day after
we went to Mr. Bennett's lodgings she was offended
because there was no wine. I offered to get some,
but she would not speak to me for four or five
,hours after. She said to me, " What a fool I have
been to marry. I hate the married life. There is
that in it which I hate above all things, and poor
Lockett knew it." (Roars of laughter.) The
weather was very cold, and I 'requested to have a
fire ; but she said it was an unnecessary expense.
She told me that the children might run in the
streets and keep themselves warm. When she got
better I rendered to her an account of the moneys
I had disbursed, and there was a mistake of a shil-
ling. She said, " Ifs just like you. You married
me -for my money, and here you are cheating and
robbing me." When I.asked for a small sum to pay
the postage of a letter, -she made a similar remark.
On my return to Tunbridge after I had been to
London, she complained of my missing the train.
She said that if she had been well enough she
would have gone away.
Mrs. Davis came down to
sec het on the 7th of Xovember. She came into

my wife's room, but she took no notice of me. My
wife was very angry with me while her sister was
with me, because Mrs. Davis told her that she had
found I was only 32 years of age. I was in reality
36; and I never told her different. In point of fact,
she had never asked me how old I was. When
Mrs. Davis had gone away she told me her sister
had informed her that I had been complaining in
London of having to spend my honeymoon in my
wife's sick room. I assured her that it was an un-
founded calumny. I afterwards borrowed £7O of
her to pay my attorney' at Cambridge ; but a few
days after she told me ,she would not trouble me
to repay her that sum. Once, when I had brought
her some East India sherry, she said, "I suppose
w
you intend to poison me with that filthy wine.
You suppose anything will do for me ; but I shall
teach you a different lemon before long." On the
17th of November she called me -" a d—d fool" I
had only been giving my children a little wine, as
it was my birthday. I said to her, " This is a
pretty example for my children,' who have never
till now heard a profane word." I said I would
take them away that very- night. She said, " I
hope they will first take off the things
I bought them, and put on the rags they came
down in." She complained that Prescott's would
not cash hexcheques without my order. I said the
English of that was that 'the money was legally
mine, but that I had not the least objection to her
having it, and I wrote the order. On our way to
Dover she spoke to me in such a manner that I was
perfectly ashamed of myself and of her. At first
we were comfortable at Dover. It had been ar-
ranged that I should take no money with me,
but when I asked her for eightpence to post a
heavy letter for London, she said the letter
might rot for her, and I had to borrow eightpence
at a hotel. I had an Oxford cheque with me, but
I could not get it cashed at Dover. I said I would
not submit to such insult. and oppression, and that
I would leave her. She called me on that occasion a
" liar" 'and a " money-hunter." The next day I
begged her not to take so much wine, seeing what
a serious effect it had on our mutual happiness. She
replied, " You shall not see what I drink," and
immediately put the black bottle to her mouth.
(Laughter.) She then said she would go away. I
told her that she should not leave me without
money, and insisted on having a certain cheque for
£lOO, which had been drawn upon a sum of money
at Prescott's that really belonged to me. I asked
her for her keys, in order to get the cheque out of
her trunk. 7 While I was doing so she seized me by
the hair and pulled me away. (Laughter.) She
used to scream when we were quarrelling. I re.
member telling her (to behave like a lady, and to
remember both that we were in a strange place,
and that it was a Sunday afternoon. I reasoned
with her on her conduct. I told her that it could
only lead to a separation. I reminded her that if
what she had told me before our marriage was true,
she could not be happy without ; and I said I would
confess that without her life would be valueless.
After this she went back to the table and finished
the wine, drinking it out of the bottle as before. She
drank three-quarters of a bottle on that occasion.
Whenever I asked her for small sums she would
say, " You are always wanting my money." I hod
occasion to speak to her almost daily about the
wine she drank. Ido not mean to say that she got
drunk, but she drank till her temper was disagree-
able. I drank none whatever myself, and we had
it bottle in every two days. On the 9th of Decem-
ber, after I had been remonstrating with her, she
said she would go. I asked her where ? She said
she did not know or care. I went with her, and
after walking about I said to her, " Well, at all
events, come back and-pay the bill ; you know I.
have no money, or very little." I did not say the
"d— bill. I never " d—n" but once in my life. I
lost sight of her, but she came back about ten. I
never said anything about throwing either myself or
her into the sea. The only thing I ever said like it
was once when I was playing with my boy Sidney, on
the pier, and when I. pretended to throw him over
the balustrade. I then said, " Mamma, shall I
throw you into the sea ?" When she came back I
received her kindly. I said, "It is worth suffering
the pain your going. away has caused me to have
the pleasure of receiving you again." On the fol.
lowing Sunday she was angry with me because I
took my children to church. She again wanted to
go away, and I insisted again on her giving me the
cheque for £3OO or I said I should write to Pres-
cott's countermanding my order to honour her
cheques. I saw that she did not wish to go, and I
remonstrated with her on her conduct. She said,
" Then give me my cheque back." I replied, " Oh,
if that is all, here it is," and I gave it to her. I
received £l5 from her for the cost of removing my
wine to her house. Before our marriage she had
thrust a roll of notes, amounting to £350, into my
trousers pocket, and buttoned them up. (A laugh.)
I told her she should have my cellar of wine in
return. It consisted of 200 dozen, and was worth
£6OO or £7OO, and the £l5 was for taking it from
Stoke Newington to Clapham. The dispute, which
occurred when we were out walking, arose from
her saying that she would not share my arm with
any one. I said, "What, Caroline, and with my
own child ! Pray be quiet; people will think you
are mad." She went from me and did not come
back till Christmas-day. She wrote to me, saying
that she had left me because I preferred my child-
ren to her, and was always accusing her of taking
too much' wine. On Christmas day I received a
note from the Lord Warden Hotel telling me that
she had left a scene of gaiety and festivity at her
sister's house in order that her sister might not
know that we had been quarrelling. That note was
destroyed by herself. She said she did not wish to
preserve a memorial of the dispute. I wrote back,
telling her that she ought not to be jealous of my
children. When I went to the hotel she said that
if there had been a train she shotdd have gone back
to London, because she did not like my letter. After
some hesitation she went with me to our lodgings.
Early the next morning she said, " If you had cared
for me you would have fetched me." While I was
dressing she added, "If I had known how you would
have received me I would never have come back. I'll
give you £lO,OOO if you will give me a separation."
I said, " Very well ; I would rather have you than
all your property ; but still, if it is necessary
to your happiness I will yield a reluctant
assent." She wrote the letter, but I begged her to
consider well what she was doing. I told her that
if, as she said, my reception of her on the previous
day had seemed cold, my manner was like a mantle
of snow over a coal fire—(a laugh)—and that if she
went to my heart she would find a very different
state of things. I don't recollect saying anything
about Vesuvius. When we went to Belgium she
told me not to take any money, for she would pay
all the expenses of the trip. She would never let
me have a penny in my pocket. At Dover she was
buying a boa. She was complaining of the price.
The young man appealed to me, " Don't you think
it is worth the money ?" I said, " Well, I think it
is." Whereupon she exclaimed, " You are always
interfering—walk out of the shop." I replied,
" Well, my dear, you are spending your own money,"
and went away. What she said was spoken in a
most offensive and insolent manner ; and the young
people in the shop laughed at me. On Sunday,
when I desired her to take the children to church,
being myself detained at home with some writing,
she said I was always thrusting them on her as a
burden. She afterwards said she was going away ;
and after dinner she left the house. I followed her
about ler three hours. At last I said, " This is a
most miserable mode of going on. You make my
life a burden to me, and if you won't go home with
me I waft go at all. So here goes." I ran down
to the pier, and she followed me.
Dr. Phillimore—What did. you mean by " Here
goes ?" Did you mean you would throw yourself
into the sea ?

Witness—Well, no. I did not mean that. (Laugh-
. ter.) When she found that I did not jump into the
sea, she left me, and went to the railway station. I
went there with her, but she did not go by the
train after all. She went back with me, and we
spent the evening very comfortably. (Laughter.)
I never called her "a spit-fire, hell•fire cat." On
one occasion she called me " a d—d liar ;" and I
said, " Oh, Caroline, whafa little spitfire you are !"
She replied, " I don't mind if you call me a hell-
fire." I remarked, " You are an insolent little puss."
The Judge—Putting that together makes " hell-
fire cat." (Laughter.)
Witness—l never made use of such a phrase in
my-life. When wegot to Percy-place, I complained
ave o I
oersheto
of the want of room, and reminded her thatshe had
h i lld
expressed
; y obutu
d sheo h said a
wish to might hv C
a governess. She said, a
promised to take a larger house. I asked h
hirewait
waitron n
a
nursethem for
myself.
the e
shall he old and ugly. \ I dare say you would like to
have a young lady to play on the
piano for you, and
to flirt with; but you'll find I
merely,said,
yourself gloriously
mistaken." (Laughter.) erely said, "This is
very foolish talk." On another occasion she called
me a ~, pig," and said I did
1"..
\--lighter.) On another occasion she
nothing but eat, drink,
and sleep. (
called me "a mean villain." On the 21st of
January I was writing in
room, about six feet by five.mY study. It is a small
There is a little grate
in it which would not hold a handful of fire ; and it
is a very cold room. . She came and asked me how
I was getting on.? I said, "Very well, thank you,
Carry
dear. Would
you be good enough to tell
the servant to bring
oe
forme ha a candle?" She said, "I
should not have n
that if I turned to the windowani should
I replied
get cold,
and said I would fetch one of thewax-candles
had brought from Brussels. I found thebedroomwe
door locked, and I asked for the key. She shook
her key-basket in my- face and declared that I
should not have 1 't. I aid
..s , ~ Why you must be
drunk
or mad 'to ref Use your husband farthing a

-candle when he is writing to save the post." j
-w(mt up stairs and broke into the room. When I
Tcturned she was writing in a kind of ledger. I
found the words " drank or mad." I said, "Now
-we won't have any such records like those you used
to keep of your disputes with poor Caroline, your
-niece.' I put the book into the fire. She suddenly
sprung on me, and knocked my head three times
against the wall. I said, " Oh, Carry, Carry, you
.are a woman and that is your protection."' I said
.othing about a duel. She snatched the book out
ca' the fire, and struck me with it. It was in flames,
and the buckle hit me under the eye, and produced
anabraison, the mark of which I carry at the present
time. The servant had come up, and I said, "
will not stand this any longer. I'll not stay with
a woman who denies me a candle, and on the
slightest provocation strikes me." At first I said'
would go away, but Tobin begged me not; and
.after a little while I cooled down, and said, " Very
N,ell, then my children shall sit in the drawing;
room ; I will not let them be with such a woman.
Slits said they should not go into her drawing-room
without her, and I then remarked that if she
served them es she had served me I would teach
them to spit i n her face. Soon after this I heard
screams in the hall, and I found the servants hold-
ing my wife to prevent her going away. I had
given them no directions to detain her. I begged,
her not to alarm the neighbourhood. I then returned
to the study ; in about an hour after I went to the
children in the drawing-room. I took them with
me and went to my wife, to whom I said, " Well,
Carry, I hope this storm is over now." She said,
"Do not come near me." I proposed that she
should take a little wine and water. She mixed
some. I said, "I don't think that it is strong
enough to do you good," and I took it up to taste
it. She immediately snatched it from me, and
threw the wine in my. face. I s aid, " Oh, Carry,
what an example for the children." She replied,
" I wish you and your children were all in eternal
perdition. I said, " Thank you." (Laughter.) She
went into the kitchen, and I visited her there
several times; but she would n. rt come back with
me, because, she said, I had tol d the children to
spit in her face. I expressed tl to regret I felt at
having made use of such an exp- cession in the heat
of the moment, but she would n of come with me.
Then I said, smiling, that .I wou Id take her little
figure and carry her up stairs, i 'or she knew I had
often carried her before we were, married. She still
refused to come, and told me I 1‘ Ad better go back
to that set of hypocrites at I slington. She all
called my late congregation " an infernal gang."
I said, " You must have learned that language
at Billingsgate." She stamped her foot and said.
" It's a 'lie—you're ad— liar." I never used
the word " Billingsgate " to her in any other
way, and I never called her a " faggot."
thought she was going to strike me again, and
raising my hand, I put it open on her forehead, t°
keep her from advancing. If I had struck her sin/
would have fallen off th' step. I said, " Oh, you
insolent little creature." Sl ie ran down the kitchen,
calling out, " Now he's st ruck me ; that is what I
wanted." In another minute I went after her.
She appealed to the two servants whether there
was not a mark miller forehead, but they said no.
That night she refused to sleep with rue. I offered
to give her up the bed; but she insisted on going
into the servants' room.
At this stage the court adjourned.

COUNTRY MA.RICETS.

HULL—Nov. 23.

A large supply of wheat to-day, at bat week's prices'
Barley was quite as dear. Oats met ; a better demand.
Beans and peas unaltered.

Wheat.... Old white— . per qr 44s Od to 48s 061
Old red ),
New white .. „
%. . 42s Od to 465
„,0d
New red .... , ._ .. .. 38s Od to-418 o',
Dantzic, Konb., '&c. old .
white 508 Od to 53s
_it'''.
Dutch, lelgian, and Frenc' a.. 46s Od to 47s Od
Baltic and Hamburg, red . ... 448 Od to 468 r,
St. Petersburg and Riga, , Ad. 39s Od to 41s 0c1,.,
Barley.... English malting . 32s Od to 36s
_ill°
Grinding
.... 29s Od to 31s 02,
Saal and Oderbruck .... .. .. 33s Od to 35s oa,
Holstein and Danish
Grinding
Oats • English, old
Archangel and Riga, per st is Old to is 1,1
Friesland and Dutch..
Swedish and Danish
Beans ....English, old, per qr.. 46s Od to-485 ,0,1
New pigeon
New tick
Egyptian
Peas Foreign breakers .
Grinding
Tares ....Winter 3Bs Od to 405 Od
85s Od to 905
Indian Corn • - • ;
Linseed, feeding
crushing •
Linseed cakes (Hull) •• • .
£9 • 244 38s
6s tOd Od t t
oo a 510; ° di:a
• • Foreign . BlO oto 9 0 a
Rape cakes • • . . . 5150 to 60 A
Bones - • • - • 512 oto 515 "

ROM-I-DALE—Nov. 22.
The market continue's quiet, but prices are about Or
ported in the few transactions recorded this week..ln the provision market there was a large show 0f
potatoes, and the trade was brisk, with lower prices at the
close. Flukes, 8s 6d ; radicals, 8s to 9s ; Wellingtons, Ss
per 2521 b.