- hazarded, elicited replies little calculated to diminish able this necessity? Not surely to Mr. Vandeleur, but} the rising of Mr, F——

the sympathy of the hearers with the unhappy girl, and the physicians were allowed to withdraw. Mr. Vande- leur was then proven to have landed property to the value of £3,000 a-year, and to be a legatee in his uncle’s will to the amount of £15,000, ou condition of his obtaining a property equivalent to that sum with any wife he should happen to marry. With this evidence, the case for the plaintiff closed.

The defendant’s senior counsel now rose to reply.) He was a man of long experience, extreme tact, and | consummate art, disevised under an honest blunt ex-| terior, and a homely frankness of manner, which might) lead an ordinary observer to imagine t

hat his entire, power consisted in a full conviction of the fairness of his case; and that when that conviction did not exist, the ingenuousness of his nature must at once betray his knowledge of its weakness. Nothing could be more at variance with his conduct. N never looked doubt- ful except when he was quite sure of a verdict. When he was not, he could not afford to lose the weight which his own apparent sense of the security of his client’s case was certain to possess with ajury. To look at him now, you would say that he was himself an injured man. fie commenced by expressing his deep regret that a case such as that before them should ever have been brought into a public court; a case painful in what- ever way it was viewed, whether with reference tothe feelings of laintiff or the defendant, and leading necessarily to the disclosure of occurrences and the divulging of facts, which should have been kept sacred from the public eye. For his part he came to take an honest, straightforward course, whatever might be the result of it. [us client, it was true, had denied on the record that any promise had been made on his part to marry the plaintitf, but the gentlemen of the jury should know that such a denial was purely formal: there was no intention of relying on it; the promise which was tne foundation of tat action they acknowledged in the fullest manner—they had all along done so. ‘That pro- mise had heen made by his client in the truest spirit of sincerity, nor did he ever dream of abandoning it, till the nuu-fulfilment of it became asolemn duty. When that hour arrived, he instantly made Miss St. Aubyn ac- quainted withthe fact. ‘I'hey had heard the letter read in wnich it was communicated; they had heard com- ments, too, made tipon the latter, on which he would not| ohserve—he left it to the jury to say whether they were| merited. ‘To him itappeared that that letter should have| at once been leoked on as releasing his client from the} engagement into which he hadentered. Miss St. Aubyi) or ier advisers took a different view of it; this action) was brought; the damages were laid, as they had already | heard, at the exorbitant sum of £10,000. Mr. Vande-| leur was literaily thunderstruck; he felt that the mar-| riave could never take place; he knew that the tithe of

ae

7 the p the p

the sum would never be recovered against him, but he|®ware of the correspondence between his daughter and|

THE EXAMINER.

a

to the mistaken pride, or affection, -as it might be—per- haps both—of her own father. On the evidence for the plaintitf he would make but one remark—one which he felt was called for, and he would then conclude. In proving the amount of Mr, Vandeleur’s property, it was shown that in his uncle’s will he was bequeathed £15,- 000, on condition of getting a fortune of that amount with his wife. Inthe opening speech of his learned friend, no observation was made upon this bequest, but it was plain enough what was intended by putting it in evidence—it was plain enough that the object was to insinuate that this legacy was what caused Mr. Vande- leur to break off his engagement with Miss St. Aubyn, and that the wish of his uncle was only a pretext for doing so, This was passed by atthe moment, but it was of course to be relied on at another stage of the trial. For his part he cared not for the insinuation— the character of Mr. Vandeleur was too well known to suffer from it ; the high position which he and his family had always held in the country, would shelter him froin such a stigma, and for himself he would scorn to defend him irom it. More he felt it unnecessary to say. He had long experience of the intelligence and discrimi- nation of the juries of this country; he knew well the honour and uprightness of the gentlemen who now oc- cupied the ju.y box—many of them were his intimate and valued personal friends, and in their hands he knew that he had nothing to fear for the safety of his client.

Mr. N having concluded his address, the letter written to Vandeleur by his uncle, requiring him, under pain of his displeasure, to break off his intended mar- riage with Miss St. Aubyn, was put in evidence, and then followed the vilest part of the degrading exhibition. Mademoiseile Louise Tussaud was called and sworn.

The witness, a French woman, was a fashionably dressed person, of about five-and-thirty, but evidently had bestowed what skill she could to keep the last decade modestly concealed; she was highly rouged, and endeavoured, by a perpetual smile, to carry off the natural expression of a face in no slight degree sinister and malicious in its character. It wanted not the coun- sel’s prefatory speech to indicate the purpose for which she was produced, for a glance would have told that her evidence could have but one object—to slander one who in all likelihood would soon be bevond the reach of human malice. What might be the precise nature of her evidence was, however, matter of deep anxiety to the entire audience.

She had resided, she said, in General St- Aubyn’s ciumily for nearly two years, and Jeft him only a few months before he settled at When she left him, Miss St. Aubyn was in her nineteenth year. She had been her confidential attendant. She recollected the Count de L- ; was the bearer of letters to him from Miss St. Aubyn. General St. Aubyn was not

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, Whose turn it was to speak, and — whose well-known eloquence an address of no ordinary power was anticipated. He was not in conrt: Ina few minutes, however, he entered, but instead of |proceeding to address the jury, he whispered sowe ob- servation into the ear of the young lawyer who had opened the case, The latter listened intently, looked evidently much embarrassed by the communication, «nd “seemed to remonstrate strongly with his senior, who, however, appeared to press his proposition, whatever 11 was, with much eagerness, and the young manat lene'ha seemed reluctantly to assent toit. Atthis moment the judge asked if it were Mr. F——’s intention to address the jury.

‘My lord,’ said F——,, ‘I have only just concluded an address of nearly four hours in the other court, and am quite unable to speak in this case. In addition to the fatigue I feel, I have none of the defendant’s evidence. I believe, however, my learned friend, Mr. Crawford, will take my place, and I can trust the case to him with- out hesitation.’

{glanced at Crawford ; he was ghastly pale. I knew his powers—what a splendid field for them. He had already acquired a high reputation ; what could he mean by hesitating ?

‘Will you then address the jury, Mr. Crawford 2 asked his lordship.

‘As my learned friend presses me to undertake it, my lord, i will not refuse, though it is a responsibility I would gladly be relieved of, he repiied, with a steadiness of voice with which the embarrassment of his manner strongly contrasted. ‘Ina moment | will be prepared,’

A feeling of disappointment at being deprived of a speech they had calculated on, from a counsel of known eminence, was manifest on the countenances of those present. Curiosity to hear how a young, and to most of them an unknown man, would acquit himself inso ardu- ous and interesting a case, very naturally succeeded, and when, after a hurried glance over a few notes on the margin of his brief, Crawford turned to commence, the silence was absolutely deathlike. For a moment I feared for him: but his collected air, and the calm firm- ness with which he began, at once reassured ic.

He commenced by remarking the wide difference be- tween the case before the jury, and all ordinary actions ofthe kind, being, as he said, ‘ the last act of the dying, in fulfilment of the last wishes of the dead” He then en- tered into a lucid and impressive review of the evidence for the plaintiff, sketching witha touching eloquence, the story of her attachment to Vandeleur, and his base deser- tion ofher, and closing with the testimony of the medical witnesses; after a hurried glance at which, he said— ‘Gentlemen, | cannot dwell on this. I cannot trust my- self longer with this detai! of suffering. I had once the happiness ofa short, a very short, acquaintance with Miss

St. Aubyn. I saw her, not many months before her in- tnnacy with the defendant began, in her own home, the

resolved to make reparation for even an involuntary|the count. Miss St. Aubyn had conversation with her/ idolized child of a brave and honoured father. I thought

wrong. He resolved to shield Miss St. Aubyn from the indiscretion of her own advisers, and sooner than suffer her to bring upon herself the odium of a trial, he gene- rously offered £3,000 to have the action abandoned. That offer was refused, and Mr. Vandeleur had no option but to defend the case. There was, however, as he already stated, no intention of denying the contract. The only evidence he should offer would be in mitiga- tion of damages; and he felt confident that when the jury came to consider that evidence they would see that the sum offered by his client was far beyond what the circumstances of the case called on them to give. A portion of that evidence was of a nature thatit gave him the deepest pain to be under the necessity of producing; but it was necessary to his client’s vindication, and he felt compelled to have recourse to it, The evidence to which he alluded was that of a person who had formerly been a domestic in General St. Aubyn’s family, the con- stant attendant on the plaintiff herself, and had reference to her conduct and character prior to the defendant’s becoming acquainted with her. Ifthe jury believed that evidence, he felt satisfied that they would consider his client entitled to all the protection in their power, and would feel with him that it was, if not a legal, at Jeast a moral ground for abandoning a promise which he had inade under a completely mistaken impression of Miss St. Aubyn’s disposition and conduct. He would not dwell upon the matter further, but would allow the evidence, when adduced, to speak for itself. They had heard much stress laid on the circumstance, that this action was brought solely in compliance with the dying wish of General St. Aubyn, and God forbid that he should lightly rezard the request of a dying father. But the gentlemen of the jury should consider that the breach of his client’s engagement was in compliance with a mandate scarce less solemn—the mandate of the nearest and dearest relative he had on earth; one who to him had been all that a father could be, and who, but a few hours after he had solemnly prohibited him from enter- ing into this marriage, was suddeniy snatched into eternity. Long and painful evidence had likewise been given by his learned friends at the other side, of the State of Miss St. Aubyn’s health—evidence which he velieved was entititled to full credit, and which it griev- echimtothe soultohear. Batit did not follow that her distress of mind arose from the conduct of his client. Might it not more naturally be attributed to the effect Which being forced into this trial, this public exposure of her feelings, and his conduct, might produce ona ‘Proud and sensitive woman ; and to whom was attribut-

; ard wag

8

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ant’ ent

upon the subject of the count’s attentions; believed from them that there existed a mutual attachment be- tween him and her mistress; knew she would have

| ‘o . .

‘that if worth, and loveliness, and virtue, could secure ‘happiness on earth, grief could never cross the threshold lof that home. Gentlemen, that home is desolate; the

ess

Lee

eloned with him, ifthe General had not suspected her) grey hairs of that father have gone down in sorrow to intentions, and taken measures to prevent it. Other|the grave, and the child lives but to fulfil his Jast re- questions were then put to her respecting Miss St. Aubyn, | quest, and follow him. I must drop a veil over miseries involving calu:inny of a deeper dye, and her direct ex-|which I dare not contemplate.’ Here he became much

amination closed.

The evidence of Miss Tussaud had been wholly un- expected by the plaintiff’s counsel. A fewskilful ques- tions, however, much disconcerted her, and served to throw no little doubt over her entire testimony. She admitted that she did not leave General St. Aubyn’s service at her dismissal to the fact that she had been discovered by him to be the bearer of messages between his daughter and the Count de L——; and at the close of her cross-examination, there were few persons in court who did not believe her story to be an entire fa- brication.

In reality it was not; but small, indeed, was the truth mixed up with its monstrous falsehood, it being nothing more than that she had been dismissed by General St. Aubyn, on his discovery from his daughter that she had endeavonred to bring her into communication with the person alluded to, the Count de L——, who had made various attempts to win the favour of Miss St. Aubyn, but had never met with the shadow of encouragement. Miss Tussaud removed to London, where she got en- gaged asa milliner, and having become acquainted with Vandeleur’s valet while the former was in London, her previous knowledge of the St. Aubyn’s became known to him. Having learned of Vandeleur’s resolve to break his engagement with her former mistress, she insinuat- ed that she knew facts relating to her history which would give him ground for doing so. He readily caught at the opportunity, and though he placed no reliance on her story, he had the unparalleled baseness to hint it as one of tie reasons for his conduct. The scheme foiled itself. The vile slander reached, ina faint and modified form, the ears of his victim’s dying father; it stung him to the quick. He knew his child was spotless, and re- solved that in her purity she should triumph over the calumniator. The ordeal had come; afew short hours would decide whether she should pass through it un- scathed,

With the evidence of the dismissed waiting-maid closed the defendant’s case, and now came the time for the plaintiff’s counsel to reply. The deep interest ex- cited by the trial had reached its extreme point, and every one present watched with breathless anxiety for

\affected ; but, after a few moment’s pause, he went into /a recapitulation of the evidence which had been relied ion for the defence, which he made the ground of a wis thering invective against Vandeleur, especially the vile | fabrications of the ‘immaculate waiting-maid,’ and con- icluded thus—‘ I have charged the defendant with dupli- city, falschood, and slander ; and I now charge him with abetting perjury, to make the slander effective. I have ‘done, gentlemen, with the evidence, and I call on you ‘for averdict. There are amongst you fathers—remem- ber that your children, too, mey be deceived and calum- ;niated, My client has no longer a father; but hen father on his death-bed bequeathed to you the sacred office of | protecting the honourofhis child. In yourhands,I feel ‘that itis safe. I call on yon, then, fora verdict. I ask for the entire damages claimed by my client, as the only mode you have of showing your sense of her wrongs, ‘your horror of her betrayer. You cannot, indeed, make |her what she once was. You cannot restore her what she has lost. Can you remove the effects of physical and mental sufferings of months’ duration? Can you jobliterate the memory of love repaid by slander—of confidence returned by deceit? Can you give her back a peaceful home? Can you give her back the buoyancy of heart, of which she has been robbed by her betrayer? No, gentlemen; it is idle to speak of justice ; it is idle to speak of reparation. You have them not in your hands. But there is one thing which youcan do. You can by your verdict vindicate my client’s honor; and, as fathers, as brothers, and as men, I confide that honor to your keeping.’ With these remarks, he resumed his seat.

His speech, of which I cannot even profess to give the substance, was powerfully effective; not so much, indeed, from his language as from his earnestness of feeling, and the deep impressiveness of his manner. The moment he got over the first few sentences, he seemed completely carried away by his case; the out- bursts of pathos or indignation were evidently not as- sumed by the advocate, but felt by the man, and his delivery of the concluding portion of his address was, beyond description, eloquent. Upon the conclusion of Crawford’s speech, the jury began to speak with each

t