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THE BRAVO MYSTERY
AND OTHER CASES


BY THE SAME AUTHOR
THE BOURBON RESTORATION
ENGLAND AND THE ORLEANS
MONARCHY
GENERAL PICHEGRU'S TREASON
FOUR FAMOUS MYSTERIES






FIELD MARSHAL H.R. H. ERNEST AUGUSTUS DUKE OF CUMBERLAND


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
AND OTHER CASES
BY SIR JOHN HALL, BART.
'Tis strange but true, for truth is always strange,
Stranger than fiction.—BYRON (Don Juan).
LONDON
JOHN LANE THE BODLEY HEAD LTD.


First published in 1923
Made and Printed in Great Britain at
The Mayflower Press, Plymouth, William Brendon & Son, Ltd.


PREFACE
me.
igra 2
IR LESLIE STEPHEN once admitted to
feeling some sympathy with those people
who avowedly prefer the police reports to
any other kind of literature. In them, at
least, the reader is brought into “ contact with solid
facts possessing all the charm of their brutal
reality.” The remark was made in reference to
The State Trials which he goes on to describe as
the “ police reports of the past.” The series of
Notable British Trials, a volume or two of which
appears every year, now provides the reader with
a selection of modern cases equal in human interest
to any to be found in Cobbett's and Howell's older
collection. But, as the name implies, only those
cases are dealt with in which the accused parties
were actually arraigned. Some of the strangest
and most mysterious crimes are, therefore, excluded
from this series, and three out of the five studies in
this volume are devoted to cases which never came :
to trial.
No cause célèbre in modern times, not even the
Tichborne Trial, has aroused a greater degree of
interest than the Bravo case. For more than a
month-in the hot summer of 1876—public atten-
tion was wholly absorbed in the proceedings of the
Coroner's Court at Balham, where the first lawyers


vi
PREFACE
of the day were vainly endeavouring to elucidate
the mystery of Mr. Bravo's death. Nevertheless,
the detailed story of the case has never been told
in narrative form and anyone desirous of studying
it has had to refer to the files of old newspapers.
In my account I have followed the almost verbatim
reports of the proceedings in the Daily Telegraph.
Moreover, I have recently enjoyed the inestimable
advantage of discussing the affair with Sir Harry
Poland, K.C., the junior counsel for the Crown at the
memorable inquest. Not content with giving me
the benefit of his recollections, he has been so kind
as to read and comment upon my MS. and I gladly
take this opportunity of offering him my best thanks
for his suggestions and invaluable assistance.
“The Northumberland Street Tragedy” is an
affair of a totally different kind. Here there is no
mystery ; the facts are plain, their interest consisting
in their “ brutal reality.” It is a drama of uncon-
trollable passion of which the last scene is a death
struggle as terrible as any depicted in the pages of
fiction.
Although the case of Sellis, the Duke of Cumber-
land's valet, is often mentioned in biographies and
referred to by historians, no trustworthy account
of it seems to exist. The contemporary pamphlet
A minute detail of the attempt to assassinate the Duke
of Cumberland is somewhat scarce and is to be found
in very few libraries. Most people, therefore, who
have felt any curiosity on the subject have been
obliged to consult such deliberately untruthful
works as The Secret History of the Court of England


PREFACE
vii
and other worthless productions. They have, in
consequence, as the Duke's many enemies intended
that they should, gained an altogether wrong
impression of the business. For, as I have en-
deavoured to show, the facts are simple and perfectly
straightforward. My narrative is based upon the
above-mentioned pamphlet and the papers, now at
the British Museum, of Francis Place, the Radical
tailor, the foreman of the Jury which sat upon the
body of the deceased valet. Place, at any rate,
cannot be suspected of any desire to screen a royal
personage or to hush up a scandal in high places.
Turning over the pages of Fouquier's Causes
Célèbres, I came across the picture of a convivial
party at a Paris restaurant. It was an incident in a
famous case the circumstances of which I have
related under the title of “ An Affair of Honour."
In addition to its dramatic episodes, the story sheds
a curious light upon the seamy side of literary and
journalistic society in Paris, at the time when Balzac
was writing his last works and the novels of the
elder Dumas and Eugène Sue were appearing in
serial form in the daily papers.
There is an entirely erroneous but widely enter-
tained belief that George IV, as Prince of Wales,
was, to all intents and purposes, warned off
Newmarket Heath. True it is, however, that the
inconsistencies of " form " displayed by one of his
horses was the subject of an investigation by the
Stewards of the Jockey Club, and the last chapter
in this volume is in the nature of an inquiry into
the running of the celebrated Escape. At this


viii
PREFACE
distance of time the materials for such a task are
not easy to find, but with the aid of the Racing
Calendars, Genius Genuine, Sam Chifney's curious
apologia, and the early volumes of the Sporting
Magazine, I have, I venture to think, been enabled
to set forth the main facts. In the course of the
story I have given some description which will, I
trust, not be considered too discursive of the racing
world as it was and of the Prince's friends and
associates at Newmarket.
21 DORSET SQUARE, N.W. 1.


AUTHORITIES
The BRAVO MYSTERY
The Balham Mystery, or The Bravo Poisoning Case. Published
in 7 parts. London, 1876.
The Daily Telegraph reports of the second inquest (July 12th-
August 13th, 1876).
Articles in contemporary papers, notably in the World, August
23rd, 1876, and in the Lancet, August 19th and 26th, 1876.
THE NORTHUMBERLAND STREET TRAGEDY
Annual Register, 1861.
The Times, the Daily Telegraph, July, 1861.
The Lancet, July 20th and 27th, 1861.
W. M. Thackeray. On Two Roundabout Papers which I intended
to Write.
The Duke of CUMBERLAND's Valet
Annual Register, 1810 and 1813.
A Minute Detail of the Attempt to Assassinate H.R.H. The Duke
of Cumberland, London, 1810.
The Times and the Examiner, June, 1810.
Place Papers, Brit. Mus., Add. MSS. 35, 144, and 27, 851.
T. H. Jessie. Life of George III.
Diaries and Correspondence of Right Hon. G. Rose.
The Trial of Josiah Phillips for a Libel on the Duke of Cumberland.
The Times, November 20th, 1851. Obituary notice on King of
Hanover.
Graham Wallas. Life of Francis Place.
W. T. Thoms. Hannah Lightfoot.
The Quarterly Review, April, 1838.


AUTHORITIES
AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
A. Fouquier. Causes Célèbres, Vol. II.
H. De Villemessant. Mémoires.
E. d'Auvergne. Lola Montez.
Autobiography and Lectures of Lola Montez. Published 1858.
GEORGE IV AND THE JOCKEY CLUB
"Racing Calendars, 1789, 1790, and 1791. .
Samuel Chifney. Genius Genuine.
H. Corbett. Tales and Traits of Sporting Life.
C. Pigott. The Jockey Club, or A Sketch of the Manners of the
Age.
Sporting Magazine.
W. M. Thackeray. The Four Georges.
R. Huish. Memoirs of George IV.
“Nimrod." The Chase, The Turf, and The Road.
Sir T. A. Cook. The History of the English Turf.
Sir T. A. Cook. Eclipse and O'Kelly.
R. Black. The Jockey Club.
T. R. Robinson. The Last Earls of Barrymore.
T. R. Robinson. Old Q.
Buck Whaley's Memoirs. Edited by Sir Edward Sullivan.
Life and Letters of Lady Sarah Lennox. Edited by the Countess
of Ilchester.
A Portion of the Journal kept by T. Raikes, Esq. Vol. III.
The Quarterly Review. Vol. 161.
The Trial of Daniel Dawson.


CONTENTS
TERY
The BRAVO MYSTERY . . .
THE NORTHUMBERLAND STREET TRAGEDY
The DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET .
AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR . . .
GEORGE IV AND THE JOCKEY CLUB .
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
:





ILLUSTRATIONS
•
.
10
Field-Marshal H.R.H. Ernest Augustus, Duke of
Cumberland . . . . . Frontispiece
Facing page
Mr. Charles Bravo . . . . . . . 6
Mrs. Charles Bravo ..
Dr. Gully . . .
Mrs. Cox . . . . . . . . . . . 68
Hungerford Bridge from Savoy Wharf in 1861
A Plan of part of St. James's Palace . .
Lola Montez . . . . . .
The Duel in the Bois de Boulogne
Samuel Chifney
• · 244
The Race for the Oatlands Stakes at Ascot in 1791 . 258





THE BRAVO MYSTERY
AND OTHER CASES





THE BRAVO MYSTERY
: AND OTHER CASES :
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
F the unravelled mysteries of the nine-
teenth century the death of Mr. Bravo is
the most perplexing. A case of suspected
poisoning in which the persons principally
concerned were in affluent circumstances and in a
good position of life could not fail to excite enormous
interest. But it is also memorable for other reasons
than those connected with the strange revelations
which transformed the inquiry held in the billiard-
room of the Bedford Hotel at Balham into a cause
célèbre. Never before or since have the proceedings
of a Coroner's Court been conducted under similar
conditions. The Attorney-General was present in
person and some of the most eminent members of
the Bar held briefs on behalf of interested parties.
Yet no judicial inquiry has ever, in modern times,
been carried on so unbecomingly. The coroner,
although he had been furnished with a legal adviser,
proved as incapable of preventing the introduction
of irrelevant matter as he was of insisting upon a


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
decorous behaviour on the part of the audience and
the members of the jury. While the eminent
counsel engaged and a famous solicitor acting for
the family of the deceased carried the cross-examina-
tion of witnesses to greater lengths than seems per-
missible, even at a coroner's inquiry, the spectators
and some of the jurymen testified their approval or
disapproval in the most open manner. And when
after twenty-three sittings of the court the investi-
gations came to an end no definite conclusion had
been reached. That Mr. Bravo had been poisoned
was established beyond the possibility of doubt,
but by whom the fatal dose had been administered
was still an unsolved mystery.
Charles Delaunay Turner Brayo was thirty years
of age when he died under conditions which made
his death the most absorbing topic of the hour. His
real name was Turner, but on attaining his majority
he assumed the name of Bravo, which was that of
his stepfather, a rich city merchant, who treated
him in all respects as though he were his son. He
would not appear to have been sent to a public school,
but he went to Oxford, where he left an excellent
reputation behind him. After leaving the Univer-
sity he was called to the Bar, and rented chambers
in Essex Court in the Temple. But his home was
in one of those detached red brick mansions facing
the green at the back of Kensington Palace, which
seem to have been specially designed for merchant
princes of the Victorian era. Here, at No. 2 Palace
Green, he led a comfortable and easy existence,
adored by his mother, and meeting with nothing but


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
affection and indulgence from his stepfather. In
these circumstances, he had little incentive to work,
yet he appears to have attended his chambers with
regularity, and to have shown a laudable anxiety
to make a career for himself. He was a man of
good abilities and at the time of his death was
already beginning to make some headway in his
profession, although in the last twelve months of
his life his earnings amounted to no more than £200.
And, in addition to his ambition of creating a
practice for himself at the Bar, he seems to have had
thoughts of standing for parliament, as soon as his
professional prospects should be more assured.
When not engaged in legal work, he appears to
have divided his time between the Junior Carlton
Club, of which he was a popular member, and his
stepfather's palatial home in Kensington. No
incident of any importance seems to have disturbed
the even tenor of his life until, in the autumn of
1875, he became engaged to Mrs. Ricardo, the
widow of Captain Alexander Louis Ricardo, a
former officer of the Grenadier Guards.
Mrs. Ricardo, who was about thirty years of age,
was the daughter of Mr. Robert Campbell of
Buscot Park, Berkshire, and of 37 Lowndes Square,
London. Like Mr. Bravo, senior, he was a wealthy
man and like him was generally described as a
merchant, whatever the exact meaning may be of
that vague, but comprehensive, designation. It was,
apparently, while on a visit to Montreal in 1863
that Miss Florence Campbell first met the young
officer whom she married the following year. At


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
that time, she was nineteen, and her husband, who
in March, 1864, was gazetted a lieutenant and
captain, had but recently attained his majority. It
was from the beginning an ill-fated union. Captain
Ricardo, who retired from the army in 1867, was
singularly unsuited to domestic life and, in addition,
appears to have been in the habit of drinking
heavily. At times he showed signs of improvement,
but he always reverted to his evil practices, which
soon began seriously to undermine his constitution.
In 1870, both husband and wife spent the greater
part of the summer and autumn at Malvern and
here Mrs. Ricardo seems to have decided that she
could no longer live with her husband. Before this
their relations had often been strained, owing mainly,
it must be presumed, to the Captain's drinking
propensities. But other causes of dissension not
improbably arose at Malvern, where Mrs. Ricardo
was under the care of Dr. Gully, whose hydropathic
establishment enjoyed a high reputation. A formal
deed of separation was accordingly drawn up, by
the terms of which Mrs. Ricardo was to receive an
allowance of £1200 a year. This state of affairs,
however, did not endure for long. In April of the
following year, Captain Ricardo died at Cologne,
without having revoked a will by which he left his
entire fortune to his wife. Thus, in 1871, Mrs.
Ricardo, who was still a young and attractive woman,
found herself a widow in possession of an income
which, with her own settlement, amounted to close
on £4000 a year.
When her husband died, Mrs. Ricardo was


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
staying on Tooting Common at the house of her
solicitor, Mr. Brooks. Her residence with this
gentleman has to be recorded, because it was there
that she met the woman with whom she was ever
afterwards so closely associated. Mr. Brooks's
children were at the time receiving instruction from
a daily governess, a widow, a certain Mrs. Jane
Cannon Cox. This lady had been left almost
destitute by her husband, an engineer, employed in
Jamaica. In these circumstances, she was befriended
by Mr. Bravo, senior, who himself came from
Jamaica, where he had large business interests.
Besides affording her some pecuniary assistance, he
advised her to invest the greater part of the little
money which she possessed in furnishing a house
in Lancaster Road, Notting Hill, with the idea of
letting it at a profit. He also appears to have been
instrumental in obtaining admission for her three
boys to a school at Streatham for the children of
distressed gentlefolk. Thus relieved, in a great
measure, of the care of her family, Mrs. Cox con-
trived to eke out a livelihood on her earnings as a
governess and on the proceeds of the house in
Lancaster Road. Mrs. Ricardo, however, conceived
a great liking for her and when, at the end of about
nine months, she left Mr. Brooks's and took a house
for herself in Leigham Court Road, Streatham Hill,
she invited Mrs. Cox to live with her as her com-
panion. As may be imagined, she was only too
pleased to exchange the drudgery of her life as a
daily governess for the easy duties of housekeeper
and companion to a kind and generous friend.


6
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
Mrs. Ricardo remained for about two years at
the villa on Streatham Hill, “ Stokefield" as she
called it, in memory, seemingly, of a house of that
name which she had occupied at Malvern. At the
end of that time she acquired the lease of a larger
and more pretentious abode at Balham, to which
she and Mrs. Cox removed in the spring of 1874.
Although Mrs. Cox was in receipt of a salary of £100
a year, Mrs. Ricardo always treated her, not as a
paid companion, but as a friend. In conversation
both ladies invariably addressed one another by
their Christian names and, generally speaking, they
seem to have lived together on a footing of equality.
It was through Mrs. Cox that Mrs. Ricardo, about
this time, made the acquaintance of Mr. Charles
Bravo. Not long after they had taken up their
residence at The Priory—as the Balham house was
named-Mrs. Cox wished to pay her respects to
Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Bravo, to whom, as has been
related, she was under considerable obligations. It
was, therefore, arranged that Mrs. Ricardo, one day
when she was driving into London, should drop
her in Palace Green and call for her after she had
finished her shopping and other business. This
programme was duly carried out, but Mrs. Bravo
hearing that her protégée's employer was at the
door, in her carriage, begged her to come in. Thus
Mrs. Ricardo was introduced both to Mrs. Bravo
and to her son, Charles, who happened to be present.
On this occasion, however, neither seems to have
made any particular impression upon the other.
In the autumn of the following year, Mrs. Ricardo,



MR. CHARLES BRAVO





THE BRAVO MYSTERY
accompanied as usual by Mrs. Cox, paid a visit to
Brighton. Soon after their arrival they were driving
along the front when they caught sight of Mr.
Charles Bravo. Not improbably they were only
too glad to see anyone whom they could claim as a
friend. In any case, Mrs. Ricardo ordered her
coachman to stop and renewed her acquaintance
with the young man. Mr. Bravo, in the King's Road
at Brighton, was seemingly more susceptible than
he had been in the family mansion on Palace Green.
He now showed plainly that the meeting afforded
him the keenest pleasure and, after making himself
as pleasant as possible, begged to be allowed to see
her again very shortly. His request was not refused
and, during the next few weeks, wherever the two
ladies went he was generally in attendance. It was
clear that his attentions were not displeasing to
Mrs. Ricardo and he was, accordingly, emboldened
to make her a proposal of marriage. After some
show of hesitation, on the plea that they scarcely
as yet knew each other sufficiently, she accepted
him, and thus when, early in November, 1875, they
left Brighton they left as an engaged couple.
It was a most suitable marriage to all outward
appearances. Mrs. Ricardo had a comfortable
fortune of her own and her fiancé, although for
the present entirely dependent upon his stepfather,
might reasonably expect to be a rich man some day.
In such circumstances, the pecuniary arrangements
and other matters of that kind were easily arranged,
Mr. Joseph Bravo agreeing to settle £20,000 upon
his stepson. What he thought about the match in


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
his innermost heart was never disclosed. But about
his wife's feelings it is possible to speak with
certainty. She unquestionably, from the first,
regarded her future daughter-in-law with aversion.
There are no grounds, however, for supposing that
she knew anything to her discredit or had any good
reason for disliking her. Not improbably, she
would have felt very much the same about any other
woman whom her son proposed to marry. There
being no real obstacles matters proceeded rapidly.
The engagement was, for those days, unusually
short. After a visit to Palace Green, Mrs. Ricardo
went to her father's house in Lowndes Square
and, on December 7th, the marriage took place
at All Souls, Knightsbridge. The bridegroom's
mother, however, could not bring herself to attend
the ceremony. For the present, she would only
express the pious wish that some day she might
come to feel differently about her daughter-in-law.
After spending about a fortnight at Brighton,
the newly married couple visited their respective
parents at Buscot Park and Palace Green and, about
the end of the first week in January, 1876, settled
down at The Priory, which was to be their future
home. The house in which Mr. Bravo's short
married life was spent was a castellated stuccoed
building erected, some fifty years earlier, when the
sham Gothic style of architecture was very much
the fashion. It consisted of about eleven bedrooms,
a library, a morning-room, a drawing-room with a
conservatory and a dining-room, and stood in its own
grounds of ten acres, on the edge of Tooting


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
Common. The front gate, which was in the Bedford
Hill Road, was flanked by a lodge, recently built
by Mrs. Bravo, for the accommodation of her
coachman and on the other side of the house-on
the common itself—there was a second entrance,
also provided with a lodge, known as the Lower
Lodge. The house still exists, but its amenities are
sadly diminished. The grounds, which poor Mr.
Bravo often jestingly described as “the estate,"
are now completely built over. Nor can any traces
to-day be seen of the two lodges which, if they have
not been pulled down, must long ago have been
converted into small residential villas.
During her widowhood or at least since she had
taken up her residence at The Priory, Mrs. Bravo
always lived in considerable style. She was fond of
horses and took great interest in her garden, for the
upkeep of which she kept a gardener with two men
under him. It was her practice to job her carriage
horses, but she had a pair of cobs of her own which
she herself drove in one of those low open phaetons,
in which the footman sits in a dicky behind-a type
of vehicle which must be familiar to every one who
has turned over the pages of an old Punch. Her
indoor establishment appears to have consisted of
a butler, a footman and six women servants. But
after her marriage her husband became apprehensive
that they were living too extravagantly and, in
deference to his wishes, she agreed to dismiss her
maid and to be content with the services of her
head-housemaid. With that exception, the house-
hold arrangements at The Priory seem to have been


10
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
carried on very much as they had been before her
marriage. Most important of all, Mrs. Cox remained
and continued to act as housekeeper. Indeed, she
appears to have been on the same friendly and
familiar terms with Mr. Bravo—whom she was also
in the habit of addressing by his Christian name--
as she had been for the past four years with his wife.
After he entered the married state and came to
live at The Priory, Mr. Bravo attended to his
professional duties as closely as ever. Between
the beginning of January, 1876, and Easter, when
the Courts rose, he went up almost every day to the
Temple, his one complaint being that briefs came
all too seldom. Meanwhile, those who saw anything
of his domestic life were convinced that he was
absolutely happy. Although somewhat careful in
money matters, he was of a very sociable disposition
and would often bring back a friend to dinner.
In this informal and unpretentious way the Bravos
seem to have entertained fairly frequently. But it
was nearly always Mr. Bravo's fellow-barristers or
other acquaintances who enjoyed the hospitality of
The Priory. Outside her own family circle Mrs.
Charles Bravo seems to have had few friends of
either sex. The smoothness of their existence,
during these four months, was only marred by two
untoward events. Towards the end of January
and again on April 6th Mrs. Bravo had a miscarriage.
On this second occasion, she suffered a considerable
amount of pain and discomfort and was obliged
to keep to her bed for rather more than a week.
It was consequently decided that, immediately



MRS. CHARLES BRAVO





12
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
Priory for luncheon. Mr. Bravo, in the meanwhile,
partook of that meal at the St. James's Hall in the
company of Mr. Ord, his wife's uncle. He was in
excellent spirits, ate heartily and drank a pint of
claret. There being nothing to detain him in
London, after luncheon he set out on foot, about
three o'clock, for Victoria, meeting in St. James's
Street Mr. M'Calmont, a friend and fellow-barrister,
who accompanied him to the station. As they
strolled along together conversing on various topics,
Mr. Bravo asked him to return with him and dine
at The Priory. Owing to a previous engagement,
he was unable to accept the invitation, but before
they parted he promised to run down the next day
and play a game of lawn-tennis.
Mrs. Bravo was in the morning-room at The
Priory when her husband returned. She told him
that after he quitted her in Jermyn Street she went
to the Stores and bought him some tobacco. He
seemed very pleased by this little attention and left
the room saying that he should smoke a pipe of the
new mixture in the garden. Presently, however,
he looked in again dressed, to her surprise, in boots
and breeches and announced his intention of going
for a ride. When, soon after six o'clock, he came
back, he appeared to be tired out and sank into a
chair. He had, he said, been quite unable to hold
the cob, which had twice run away with him. When
at last he contrived to stop him, he was so exhausted
that he could scarcely muster strength enough to
extract a shilling from his pocket to give to the boy
who had picked up his hat. As he complained very


THE BRAVO MYSTERY 13
much of stiffness, Mrs. Bravo recommended a hot
bath and the butler was ordered to prepare one.
Both of them shortly afterwards went upstairs to
dress for dinner, which was to be, as usual, at
half-past seven. While they were in their respective
rooms, Mrs. Cox returned. Owing to the lateness
of the hour, however, she did not change her dress
and, directly she came down to the morning-room,
they all went in to dinner which, on her account,
had been kept back for a few minutes.
Ever since April 6th, Mrs. Bravo had taken her
evening meal in her bedroom, and this first dinner
which she ate downstairs in her husband's company
proved a somewhat dreary affair. In spite of his
hot bath and of the fact that his wife was once more
seated opposite to him, Mr. Bravo, who was
generally full of talk and fun, seemed depressed and
out of sorts. He had recently complained of
toothache and neuralgia and was, in addition, in the
opinion of the butler who waited at table, suffering
from the effects of his unpleasant experiences while
out riding that afternoon. Moreover, just before
going into dinner he had received a letter from his
stepfather which caused him considerable annoy-
ance. He was fond of engaging in small dealings-
they can hardly be called speculations-on the
Stock Exchange, by which he might if fortune
favoured him make a profit of a few sovereigns.
The contract note of a recent operation of this kind,
which had resulted in a loss of £20, had inadver-
tently been directed to his stepfather, who was
staying at St. Leonards, Mr. Bravo, senior, in


14
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
sending it on, took the opportunity of expressing
his disapproval of such transactions. Mr. Charles
Bravo, however, resented these observations, which
he considered were especially uncalled for, seeing
that his stepfather had only become acquainted
with the affair by accident. During dinner, he
several times reverted to this grievance, declaring
that he should certainly “write the governor a
shirty letter.” So entirely did this business absorb
his attention that he took but a languid interest in
Mrs. Cox's account of her doings at Worthing and
scarcely looked at the photograph of the house
which she had selected for them. The dinner itself
was short and uninteresting, consisting of whiting,
lamb and a dish of eggs and bloater paste. Mr. Bravo
declined the fish, but all three of them partook of
the last two courses. During the meal, which
lasted rather more than half an hour, he drank
three glasses of Burgundy, while the two ladies
between them disposed of nearly two bottles of
sherry.
As soon as dinner was over, they all went into
the morning-room, where they remained until, at
the end of about half an hour, Mr. Bravo suggested
that his wife had sat up long enough. She
agreed, and left the room, followed by Mrs. Cox,
who offered to assist her to undress, Mary Anne,
the housemaid, being still at her supper. Outside
the door, Mrs. Bravo expressed the wish for a glass
of sherry, which Mrs. Cox at once procured for
her from the dining-room and carried upstairs.
The first floor at The Priory consisted of five


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
15
rooms. The principal bedroom faced the stairs
and, under normal conditions, was occupied by
Mr. and Mrs. Bravo. Since the miscarriage of
April 6th, however, Mr. Bravo had been relegated
to an adjoining room and it was Mrs. Cox who
nightly descended from her room, on the second
floor, and shared his wife's bed. His dressing-room
was next to Mrs. Bravo's room, but since he had
been sleeping alone he does not appear to have used
it. Beyond it again was another small room which
served Mrs. Bravo as a dressing-room and at the
other end of the passage, opposite to Mr. Bravo's
room, was a spare bedroom. Thus, anyone ascend-
ing to the landing on the first floor would have in
front of him the two bedrooms occupied by Mr. and
Mrs. Bravo respectively and, on his right hand, the
two dressing-rooms.
Mrs. Bravo went to her dressing-room, where
she drank her sherry and, with Mrs. Cox's assistance,
proceeded to undress. Some twenty minutes later,
while they were thus engaged, Mary Anne entered
the room with a can of hot water. Having deposited
it upon the washing-stand, she was about to leave
the room, when Mrs. Bravo requested her to go
downstairs and bring her up another glass of sherry.
The girl complied at once, and as she was leaving
the dining-room with a tumbler of wine in her
hand Mr. Bravo came out of the morning-room
and went upstairs to bed. It was barely half-past
nine, but there was nothing unusual in his retiring
for the night at this early hour. Contrary to his
usual habit, however-for it was his practice to


16
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
adopt a very friendly attitude towards his servants-
he passed her without speaking, “ looking,” as she
afterwards described it, “ queer and angry." He
went straight to Mrs. Bravo's dressing-room, where,
so Mrs. Cox afterwards deposed, he reproached
her for taking too much wine. Already she had
drunk nearly a bottle of sherry and now she had
sent for more. He spoke these words in French,
under the impression apparently that Mary Anne
was close behind him. She, however, was dis-
creetly waiting in Mrs. Bravo's bedroom, from which
she did not emerge until she presently heard him
pass along the passage and enter his own room.
She then went out with the intention of rejoining
Mrs. Bravo in the dressing-room, but on the landing
outside she met her coming to bed. For the next
ten minutes or so, Mary Anne was engaged in
tidying the dressing-room and, having performed
that duty, she returned to the bedroom to inquire
whether her services were further required that
night. By this time Mrs. Bravo appeared to have
fallen asleep, but Mrs. Cox, who was sitting fully
dressed by her bedside, told Mary Anne that there
was nothing more for her to do. Accordingly,
after removing the dogs, she left the room and was
about half-way downstairs when the door of
Mr. Bravo's room was suddenly thrown open and
he appeared in his nightshirt upon the landing
calling out loudly, “ Florence, Florence, hot water,
hot water !” He was pale and agitated and the
girl, realizing at once that something very serious
had happened, ran back to Mrs. Bravo's room.


THE BRAVO MYSTERY 17
Strange to say, Mrs. Cox had not heard Mr. Bravo's
cries of distress, although the door of his room was
only a few feet away and his voice had been raised
to a fairly high pitch. But, when Mary Anne burst
in with the news that he had been seized with illness,
she at once went to his assistance without, however,
arousing Mrs. Bravo. Mr. Bravo, by this time,
had moved away from the door and was
standing close to an open window through which
he was vomiting copiously. Did he say anything
to Mrs. Cox in explanation of his condition? That
question was afterwards hotly debated and will need
to be carefully considered, later on. For the
moment, suffice it to say that Mary Anne, who had
followed Mrs. Cox into his room, only heard him,
in the intervals of his attacks of sickness, cry out
again for hot water, which, by Mrs. Cox's orders,
she at once went to fetch. When she returned,
Mr. Bravo had sunk down upon the floor and
Mrs. Cox was engaged in rubbing his chest. That
lady was clearly of opinion that an emetic must be
administered and Mary Anne was consequently
again sent away in quest of mustard and camphor.
A message that hot coffee was to be prepared was
also despatched to the kitchen. Furthermore,
Mrs. Cox herself went downstairs and, pushing
open the pantry door, told Rowe, the butler, to
send the coachman for Dr. Harrison, of Streatham,
who had frequently attended Mrs. Bravo. Indeed,
when the man transmitted the order to his fellow-
servant he was under the impression that it was for
his mistress that the doctor's services were suddenly


18 THE BRAVO MYSTERY
required. But he was speedily undeceived. Mary
Anne, in the course of seeking for some of the
articles required by Mrs. Cox, had occasion to go
to Mrs. Bravo's medicine cupboard. Finding that
she was still asleep and seemingly unaware of all
that had happened, she took upon herself to awaken
her and informed her of the state of affairs.
Mrs. Bravo rose at once and, hastily putting on a
dressing-gown, ran into the next room. At the
sight of her husband lying upon the floor almost
unconscious, with Mrs. Cox stooping over him, she
testified the liveliest concern. Hearing that Dr.
Harrison had been sent for, she insisted that
Dr. Moore, who lived only a few hundred yards
away, must be summoned instantly. Nor would
she entrust the message to Mary Anne or to anyone
else, but, rushing downstairs, she begged Rowe, in
a voice broken with sobs, himself to go for Dr. Moore
and bring him back as speedily as possible. Mean-
while, the mustard and water which Mrs. Cox had
administered to Mr. Bravo had brought on renewed
vomiting. Very soon, however, the unfortunate
man lapsed into a state of unconsciousness and all
that the women could do was to raise him up into
a chair and await the arrival of the doctor.
Dr. Moore, whom Rowe had found at home,
was quickly upon the scene. Mr. Bravo, when he
arrived, was leaning back in a chair completely
insensible. The action of the heart was almost
suspended and the doctor's first impression was
that he was on the point of death. Neither Mrs.
Bravo nor Mrs. Cox could assign any reason for his


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
19
sudden and mysterious attack of illness. They
talked of his misadventure while out riding that
afternoon, and said that he had lately been worried
about stocks and shares. Mrs. Cox, it appeared,
had only given him an emetic because he had
complained of a pain in his stomach. The doctor
was completely puzzled and knew not what to do.
For the moment, he could think of nothing better
than to put him to bed, and, after that had been
effected with Rowe's assistance, Dr. Harrison arrived.
Before he was taken upstairs Dr. Harrison had a
short conversation in the hall with Mrs. Cox, who
was somewhat more communicative to him than
she had been to Dr. Moore. Thus she related how
Mr. Bravo had vomited out of his bedroom window,
a circumstance which she had not seen fit to disclose
to his colleague. Then, having enumerated the
remedies which she had herself applied, she con-
cluded by saying: “I am sure he has taken
chloroform.”
Mr. Bravo, having lately been suffering from
toothache and neuralgia, had sought to alleviate
the pain by rubbing his gums with chloroform.
Accordingly, having consulted together, the two
doctors proceeded to search the room to see whether
they could " discover anything to account for the
symptoms.” They found a bottle of chloroform
a bottle of laudanum and a bottle containing a
liniment composed of camphor and ammonia. In
Dr. Harrison's opinion, Mr. Bravo's “ appearance
and symptoms were closely allied to those that
would be produced by taking chloroform.” But


20
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
neither of them could detect the faintest smell of
that drug in his breath and they were, in consequence,
driven to look for the cause of trouble in some other
direction. In these circumstances, the first con-
clusion which they came to was that“ a large vessel
near the heart had given way” and to stimulate
its action they proceeded to inject brandy and water
with a syringe, their patient being still unconscious
and quite incapable of swallowing anything. Both
of them, however, looked upon the case as wellnigh
hopeless and they therefore suggested that further
medical advice should be obtained. Mrs. Bravo
fell in readily with this proposal and expressed the
wish that Mr. Royes Bell, a Harley Street surgeon,
should immediately be sent for. This gentleman
was a cousin and a very intimate friend of Mr. Bravo
and, moreover, had attended her in her recent
illness. Dr. Harrison, consequently, wrote to him
begging him “ to come at once and to bring some
one with him, as Mr. Bravo was suffering from
failure of the heart's action.” This note was given
to the coachman with orders that he was to drive
into London and bring back the doctors.
During the two hours which had necessarily to
elapse before the carriage could return, Mrs. Bravo
appeared unable to control her impatience. At one
moment she lamented that the cobs had not been
sent instead of the carriage horses, and at another
she threw herself down beside her unconscious
husband and addressed him in terms of the fondest
endearment. But, as she almost immediately fell
asleep, Dr. Harrison was constrained to awake her


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
21
and request her to remove herself from the bed,
lest she should interfere with the sick man's breath-
ing. About two o'clock, an important change
manifested itself in Mr. Bravo's condition. His
pulse rose and he began to vomit and to pass a
bloody fluid. These symptoms, which betokened
internal ulceration, were a clear indication to the
doctors of the nature of his malady. Henceforward,
they could feel assured that he was suffering from
an irritant poison. About the same time as they
made this discovery the carriage returned and
Mr. Royes Bell and Dr. Johnson, of Savile Row,
were brought up to the sick-room. Directly they
were made acquainted with this last development,
they likewise regarded it as an unmistakable sign
that in some way or another Mr. Bravo had absorbed
an irritant poison. Meanwhile, the unfortunate
gentleman was beginning to recover consciousness.
Directly their patient was in a condition to
answer them, the doctors pressed him to tell them
what he had taken. He had rubbed his gums with
laudanum for neuralgia, he replied, and had possibly
swallowed some accidentally. “ But laudanum,"
said Dr. Johnson, “ will not account for your
symptoms.” He persisted, nevertheless, in declaring
that he had taken no other drug. While they were
thus engaged, Mrs. Cox took Mr. Bell aside and
asked to speak to him in private. Together they
went to Mrs. Bravo's dressing-room, where she
made the astounding statement that, when he was
i Johnson, Sir George (1818-1896), Physician, King's College,
London. Knighted 1892.


22
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
first taken ill, “ Charlie," as she called him, had
confided to her that he had taken poison. It was
while he was vomiting out of the window, and his
exact words were “ I have taken poison, don't tell
Florence.” Mr. Bell did not conceal his surprise
that she should have withheld this information for
so long. “ It is no good,” he said, “ sending for a
doctor if you do not tell him what is the matter,"
and with that observation he left her and imparted
this new and startling piece of news to Dr. Johnson.
Dr. Johnson, after Mrs. Cox had repeated her
story to him, immediately went back to the patient's
bedside and said, “ Mrs. Cox tells us you have
spoken to her of having taken poison-what's the
meaning of that ?” “I don't remember,” he
replied, “having spoken of taking poison.” “ But
have you taken any?” insisted Dr. Johnson.
Possibly laudanum, nothing else, he assured the
assembled doctors and, press him as they might,
he constantly adhered to that statement.
On being apprised of Mrs. Cox's revelations,
Dr. Harrison, not unnaturally, testified some annoy-
ance that she had concealed Mr. Bravo's statement
from him. In reply to his observations on the
subject, however, she professed to be under the
impression that directly he arrived she had told
him everything. “ You certainly did not," retorted
the doctor. “You told me you were sure he had
taken chloroform,” and there the matter was allowed
to rest for the present. About five o'clock, all the
medical men returned to their respective homes,
with the exception of Mr. Royes Bell, who announced


THE BRAVO MYSTERY 23
his intention of remaining in the house. Dr. Johnson,
however, who was in charge of the case, carried
back with him to London a jar containing a specimen
of rejected matter which he proposed to test for
arsenic.
After the departure of the doctors Mr. Bravo's
condition underwent little change. He was fre-
quently sick and suffered intense agony from pains
in the stomach. Moreover, he was under no
illusions as to the gravity of his situation. With
the idea, apparently, that he might thereby be
induced to tell them what he had taken, the doctors
had let him see plainly that they entertained little,
if any, hope of saving him. The sight of his wife
appeared to be his chief consolation. More than
once he asked her to kiss him and, about midday,
feeling somewhat easier, he called for pen and paper
and drew out a will by which he left her everything
and appointed her his sole executrix. At the same
time, he solemnly enjoined Mr. Bell to tell his
mother, should she not arrive before he died, “ to
be kind to Florence.” Later on, in the course of
their rounds, both Dr. Moore and Dr. Harrison
looked in, and about three o'clock Dr. Johnson
arrived, and all of them in turn made renewed
efforts to elicit from him the nature of the poison
which he had swallowed. For unless Mrs. Cox had
made a deliberately false statement—and they had
no reason to suspect her good faith-it was plain
that he must have knowingly taken some deleterious
drug. But he replied always that nothing of a
poisonous character, except possibly laudanum, had


24
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
passed his lips and the only result of their impor-
tunities was to irritate and annoy him. “Why the
devil should I have sent for you, I if knew what was
the matter with me?” Rowe heard him exclaim
impatiently.
Before Dr. Johnson left that afternoon, the dying
man's mother and stepfather, who had been tele-
graphed for from St. Leonards, reached The Priory.
They were accompanied by Miss Bell, Mr. Royes
Bell's sister, and by Amelia Bushell, an old maid of
Mrs. Bravo's, who had known Mr. Charles since he
was a boy. As soon as they arrived, Mrs. Bravo
begged her daughter-in-law to allow her and Amelia
Bushell to take complete charge of the sick-room.
She had, hitherto, always nursed her son in all his
illnesses and he was quite accustomed to be attended
by her. Mrs. Charles made no difficulty about
consenting. Indeed, to facilitate matters, she gave
up her bedroom on the first floor to the old Bravos
and herself went to sleep upstairs with Mrs. Cox.
That night no improvement took place and when,
at nine o'clock on Thursday morning, April 20th,
Dr. Johnson visited his patient, he found that his
condition, if it had changed at all, had changed for
the worse. And unfortunately Dr. Johnson was
still as much in the dark as ever as to the particular
poison which had caused the mischief, the test for
arsenic, to which he had submitted the specimens
removed the day before, having given a negative
result. This he only confided to Mr. Royes Bell,
but, before departing, he felt it his duty to inform
old Mr. Bravo that he regarded his stepson's case


THE BRAVO MYSTERY 25
as hopeless. That gentleman at once broke the
news to Mrs. Charles who, on learning that the
doctors had definitely given up her husband,
exclaimed, “ They have had their way and I as his
wife will have mine.” She then proceeded to
describe certain remedies which she had been
advised would prove efficacious. She was a firm
believer in homeopathy, and the treatment which
she now advocated was of a homeopathic character.
It consisted of a mustard plaster upon the spine,
cold water applications to the stomach and small
and frequent doses of arsenicum. Dr. Johnson,
however, objected to the poultices, which would
only subject the patient to useless suffering. But
the arsenicum, in the form suggested, was perfectly
harmless and he was quite prepared to allow it to
be administered. Mrs. Charles Bravo did not say
and, apparently, the doctors did not trouble to
inquire from whom she had obtained this pre-
scription.
About three o'clock in the afternoon, Dr. Johnson
returned accompanied by Dr. Henry Smith, a
brother-in-law of Mr. Bravo, senior. Dr. Smith,
however, had nothing to suggest and could only
express his general concurrence with Dr. Johnson's
view of the case. In the meantime, however,
Mrs. Charles Bravo had taken upon herself to call
in Sir William Gull- and had already sent Mrs. Cox
to London with a note begging him to come at once.
1 Gull, Sir William Withey (1816–1890). Attended Prince
of Wales 1871. Created Baronet 1872. Left personalty worth
over £344,000 besides landed estates,


26 THE BRAVO MYSTERY
The summoning of a new doctor in this unorthodox
fashion was a serious breach of medical etiquette.
Nevertheless, the matter was arranged amicably
and, that evening, about six o'clock, Dr. Johnson
and his famous confrère drove down to The Priory
together. Ever since his successful treatment of
the Prince of Wales, when he was lying at the point
of death from typhoid fever, Sir William Gull had
held a position in the public estimation which no
other member of his profession has occupied since
his day. But, apart from that particular instance
of his skill, his penetration was remarkable and he
was generally believed to exercise a veritable
fascination over his patients. If it were true there-
fore that Mr. Bravo was concealing some vital fact
from his medical attendants, Sir William was of all
men the best fitted to overcome his obstinacy.
When he was taken up to the sick-room, Sir
William expressed a wish that everybody should
go out of it, except the doctors. Then, after a very
short examination of the patient, he said to him,
“This is not disease. You are poisoned, pray tell
us how you came by it." Mr. Bravo, however, only
repeated what he had so often said before, that he
had rubbed his gums with laudanum and might
have swallowed some.“ It is much more than that,"
exclaimed Sir William, who went on to adjure him
solemnly to reveal to them what he had taken. It
might enable them, he added, to find an antidote,
but, checking himself, he said “ No, that would not
be fair, I fear no antidote would do you good and it
is not for me to press a dying man.” At this stage,


THE BRAVO MYSTERY 27
Dr. Johnson, who was standing at the foot of the
bed, interposed with the grave words, “ If you do
not tell us more than we know at present, some one
may be accused of being the cause of your death.”
“ I cannot help that,” was the reply, “ I have taken
nothing else.” There was no more to be said and
the doctors went into the adjoining dressing-room
to consult together. Before this, Sir William had
directed that the matter which Mr. Bravo had
vomited through the window on the night on which
he was taken ill should be collected. It was still
lying upon the leads below and no difficulty was
experienced in carrying out Sir William's orders,
but, while Dr. Johnson was sealing up the jar in
which it had been placed, Miss Bell appeared at the
door of the room in which the doctors were closeted
and told them that “ Charlie” was calling urgently
for Dr. Gull. Sir William at once returned to the
sick man's bedside, only to discover, however, that
he wished to repeat his former statement. As
impressively as he could and in as loud and distinct
a tone as his condition permitted, he now assured
Sir William Gull, in the presence of Miss Bell,
Amelia Bushell and Dr. Johnson, that he had told
him the whole truth and nothing but the truth and
that he made this assertion with the full knowledge
that “ I am going to appear before my Maker."
He next asked whether anything could be given
him to relieve his pain and whether there was
“ really no hope.” Sir William felt his pulse and
heart and told him that he had very little life left
in him and that he was in short “ half-dead”


28
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
already. He then went downstairs and soon after-
wards returned to London, his visit having only
lasted about forty minutes. It was his opinion, and
he made no secret of it, that Mr. Bravo would not
live through the night. Nor was he mistaken.
About four o'clock, on the morning of Friday,
April 21st, the poor man's long-drawn-out agony
came to an end.
In such circumstances, there could be no question
of granting a certificate of death, and Mr. Royes Bell
immediately took steps to warn the Coroner and
to arrange for a post-mortem examination. This
last operation he entrusted to Dr. Joseph Payne,
who performed it the following day-Saturday,
April 22nd-in the presence of Dr. Johnson,
Dr. Harrison, Dr. Moore and Mr. Royes Bell
himself. Evidence of internal inflammation and
ulceration was discovered, but no indication could
be found of any natural disease which could cause
death. As is usual in such cases, the contents of
the stomach and intestines and various portions of
the digestive organs were placed in jars, sealed up
and sent off for analysis, in this instance, to
Professor Redwood who, before this, had received
specimens of the dejecta and of the vomited matter
which Sir William Gull had directed should be
collected from the leads below the deceased's
window. Meanwhile, Mrs. Cox was in corre-
spondence with Mr. Carter, the Coroner for East
Surrey, on the subject of the inquest. Mrs. Bravo,
wrote Mrs. Cox, was anxious that it should take
place at The Priory itself, “where,” she added


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
29
thoughtfully, “refreshments will be prepared for
the jury.” Mr. Carter, apparently, saw no reason
to decline so kindly an invitation.
The inquest was opened on Tuesday, April 25th,
1876, in the dining-room of The Priory. There
can be little doubt that it had been conveyed to the
Coroner that it was a case of suicide and that the
relations were very anxious that the investigations
should be carried out as privately as possible
Mr. Carter was an official of long experience who,
it must be presumed, had hitherto satisfactorily
performed his duties. On this occasion, he knew
that the deceased was a barrister in very good
circumstances and that his family and surroundings
were eminently respectable. Under these con-
ditions, he seems to have considered that he would
be justified in confining his inquiry within the
narrowest limits and in doing all in his power to
avoid touching upon anything which might cause
pain to the dead man's relatives and friends.
Accordingly, no notification of the inquest was
sent to the newspapers and none of their repre-
sentatives were, consequently, in attendance. It
must be remembered, however, that the reporters
of that time were neither as pushing nor as
ubiquitous as they are to-day. For, although
everything was done to ensure the privacy of the
inquiry, the proceedings, it is clear, were not carried
on in a strictly closed Court. One or two neighbours
contrived to secure admission and a Mr. Reid, a
barrister and a friend of the deceased, was also
present and, moreover, took notes of the evidence.


32
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
the best of her belief he and Mrs. Bravo had always
lived together most happily. Dr. Payne next
described the result of his post-mortem examination
which had disclosed no natural cause to account
for death. The evidence of Dr. Theophilus Red-
wood, professor of Chemistry to the Pharmaceutical
Society of Great Britain, was to the effect that he
had discovered antimony in all the specimens and
organs submitted to him. In his opinion it could
only have been administered in the form of tartar
emetic, which was easily soluble in water and
practically tasteless. The deceased's symptoms
were those which a large dose of antimony might
be expected to produce. From the food vomited
through the window alone he had extracted ten
grains of tartar emetic. He felt no doubt that the
deceased's death was to be attributed to " antimony
taken in sufficient quantity to cause death."
Mr. Royes Bell stated that from the time when he
first arrived at The Priory, in the early hours of
Wednesday morning, he remained with the deceased
until he died, on the following Friday. Although
frequently pressed to say what he had taken, the
deceased had always refused to admit either to him
or to any of the other doctors that he had taken
anything except laudanum.
Mr. Carter, it appears, now considered that the
jury were in possession of sufficient facts to enable
them to return a verdict. His own notes and those
of Mr. Reid are, however, the only records which
exist of these proceedings. This much is certain,
that he declined to hear Dr. Johnson and Dr. Moore,


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
33
both of whom were present and anxious to depose.
Nor would he allow Mrs. Bravo to be called. She
was, he understood, prostrated by the shock of her
husband's death and he could see no reason why
they should add to her sufferings by asking her to
give evidence. From disclosures subsequently made,
it is clear that the Coroner's decision thus pre-
maturely to close the inquiry by no means met with
the approval of the jury as a body. Certain members
of it, unquestionably, regarded Mrs. Cox's evidence
as unsatisfactory and insisted on recalling her and
on examining her sharply. The Coroner, however,
who seems to have persuaded himself that it was a
case of suicide, would not allow any further time
to be devoted to the case. No account exists of his
summing up, but it is reasonable to suppose that it
accorded with his own prepossessions. Neverthe-
less, when he had concluded and when the court
was cleared, he took a very unusual step. Perhaps
he was not altogether comfortable in his own mind
or, possibly, he perceived that the jury were inclined
to be restless and dissatisfied. Be the reason what
it may, he sent for Mr. Joseph Bravo and asked
him whether he entertained any suspicion that his
stepson had been the victim of foul play. “No,"
was the answer, “but there are drugs in nearly
every room of the house.” The verdict, which the
jury shortly afterwards brought in, was “that the
deceased died from the effects of poison-antimony
-but that there was no evidence as to the circum-
stances in which it had come into his body.”
The next day, April 29th, the funeral took place


30
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
TO wa
Mr. Joseph Bravo was the first witness called.
He formally identified the deceased as his stepson
and stated that from the Wednesday, when he first
saw him in bed, until the Friday morning, when he
died, he never heard him suggest the cause of his
illness. Mrs. Cox related how on the Tuesday
night she had gone to Mr. Bravo's bedroom and
how he had used the words, “ I have taken poison,
don't tell Florence.” He had been suffering from
neuralgia, and she concluded therefore that he had
swallowed some of the chloroform or laudanum
which he was in the habit of applying to his gums.
When Dr. Harrison arrived she told him what the
deceased had said to her. Mr. Bravo and his wife
lived on the most affectionate terms and she knew
of nothing which might have led him to commit
suicide. Amelia Bushell described the sufferings
of the deceased, who, however, remained conscious
to the last. He had never accounted for his symp-
toms to her, nor to anyone else in her hearing. So
far as she knew, he had no reason for committing
suicide. Dr. Harrison related the different episodes
which had come under his notice and stated that
the deceased had always denied to him and to the
other doctors that he had taken anything, except
possibly laudanum. His symptoms, however,
suggested that he had absorbed an irritant poison.
Until informed of it by Dr. Johnson, he was
unaware that the deceased had admitted that he
had taken poison. At this stage, the proceedings
were adjourned to Friday, April 28th, presumably
to enable Professor Redwood to acquaint the Court
with the result of his analysis.


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
31
Already on this Tuesday, April 25th, the Pro-
fessor was in a position to inform Dr. Johnson that
the tests to which he had submitted the specimens
and the organs sent to him had revealed the presence
of antimony in the form of tartar emetic. The
news appears to have been passed on at once to
Mr. Joseph Bravo who, taking the advice of his
brother-in-law, Dr. Henry Smith, reported the
matter to the police authorities at Scotland Yard.
As a result of his communication, Inspector Clark,
who was regarded as somewhat of an expert in
poisoning cases, was instructed to make inquiries,
presumably to ascertain whether the possession of
antimony could be traced to anyone connected
with the household at The Priory. Nevertheless,
it would be a mistake to infer that Mr. Joseph Bravo
was already convinced that his stepson had been
murdered. There are grounds for supposing that
he was rather inclined to think that he might have
taken the poison accidentally. He knew that both
his daughter-in-law and Mrs. Cox had medicine
chests and that there were in the house innumerable
bottles containing drugs, to which he gave the
general name of “ poisons.” But he absolutely
refused to entertain the notion that this unfortunate
stepson had taken any noxious drug deliberately,
and made no secret of his utter disbelief in Mrs.
Cox's story.
When the Court reassembled on April 28th,
Mary Anne Keeber gave an account of the different
episodes connected with Mr. Bravo's seizure, with
which she had been concerned, and stated that to


32
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
the best of her belief he and Mrs. Bravo had always
lived together most happily. Dr. Payne next
described the result of his post-mortem examination
which had disclosed no natural cause to account
for death. The evidence of Dr. Theophilus Red-
wood, professor of Chemistry to the Pharmaceutical
Society of Great Britain, was to the effect that he
had discovered antimony in all the specimens and
organs submitted to him. In his opinion it could
only have been administered in the form of tartar
emetic, which was easily soluble in water and
practically tasteless. The deceased's symptoms
were those which a large dose of antimony might
be expected to produce. From the food vomited
through the window alone he had extracted ten
grains of tartar emetic. He felt no doubt that the
deceased's death was to be attributed to “ antimony
taken in sufficient quantity to cause death.”
Mr. Royes Bell stated that from the time when he
first arrived at The Priory, in the early hours of
Wednesday morning, he remained with the deceased
until he died, on the following Friday. Although
frequently pressed to say what he had taken, the
deceased had always refused to admit either to him
or to any of the other doctors that he had taken
anything except laudanum.
Mr. Carter, it appears, now considered that the
jury were in possession of sufficient facts to enable
them to return a verdict. His own notes and those
of Mr. Reid are, however, the only records which
exist of these proceedings. This much is certain,
that he declined to hear Dr. Johnson and Dr. Moore,


THE BRAVO MYSTERY 33
both of whom were present and anxious to depose.
Nor would he allow Mrs. Bravo to be called. She
was, he understood, prostrated by the shock of her
husband's death and he could see no reason why
they should add to her sufferings by asking her to
give evidence. From disclosures subsequently made,
it is clear that the Coroner's decision thus pre-
maturely to close the inquiry by no means met with
the approval of the jury as a body. Certain members
of it, unquestionably, regarded Mrs. Cox's evidence
as unsatisfactory and insisted on recalling her and
on examining her sharply. The Coroner, however,
who seems to have persuaded himself that it was a
case of suicide, would not allow any further time
to be devoted to the case. No account exists of his
summing up, but it is reasonable to suppose that it
accorded with his own prepossessions. Neverthe-
less, when he had concluded and when the court
was cleared, he took a very unusual step. Perhaps
he was not altogether comfortable in his own mind
or, possibly, he perceived that the jury were inclined
to be restless and dissatisfied. Be the reason what
it may, he sent for Mr. Joseph Bravo and asked
him whether he entertained any suspicion that his
stepson had been the victim of foul play. “ No,"
was the answer, “ but there are drugs in nearly
every room of the house.” The verdict, which the
jury shortly afterwards brought in, was “ that the
deceased died from the effects of poison-antimony
--but that there was no evidence as to the circum-
stances in which it had come into his body.”
The next day, April 29th, the funeral took place


34
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
at Norwood Cemetery, and, on the following Wed-
nesday, May 3rd, Mrs. Bravo went to recuperate in
lodgings at Brighton, at 38 Brunswick Terrace,
which the ever useful Mrs. Cox had taken for
her the week before. Prior to that the two ladies
had not been alone. Mrs. Bravo's mother, Mrs.
Campbell, and her brother, Mr. William Campbell,
arrived before Mr. Bravo died; in fact, they were
in time to see Sir William Gull—who was an old
friend of the family. And after his stepson's death
Mr. Joseph Bravo did not return with his wife to
London, but stayed on at The Priory until after the
post-mortem. By that time Mrs. Bravo's father,
who had been too ill to come earlier, arrived and
remained with his daughter until she went to
Brighton.
Mrs. Bravo's peaceful seclusion at Brighton did
not endure for long. Her deceased husband had
been extremely popular and his friends one and all
were profoundly dissatisfied with the conduct of
the inquest. Indeed, a certain Mr. Willoughby, a
barrister, who had attended the funeral, went to
Scotland Yard the next day, and brought to the
notice of the police several suspicious circumstances
connected with the death of his friend. But, al-
though the matter was very freely discussed in the
social circle in which deceased had moved, the Press,
for more than another week, made no allusion to the
affair. The first intimation of it which the public
received was a paragraph in the World, headed
1 The World, May 1oth, 1876 (but it was apparently in the
hands of the public the preceding day).


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
35
“A Tragedy ? ” It was a tolerably accurate account
of the principal incidents of the case, but no names
were mentioned, Mr. Bravo being referred to as “ a
young barrister rapidly gaining a position at West-
minster Hall, who had recently married.” The
following day, however, the Daily Telegraph was far
more explicit. Under the title of “ Mystery at
Balham,” it furnished its readers with the whole
story of Mr. Bravo's fatal attack of illness and with
the names of some of the doctors who had attended
him. In a leading article, in the same issue, comment
was made on the secret and generally unsatisfactory
manner in which Mr. Carter had carried on his
inquiry. And, from this time onward, the Telegraph
began an active campaign in favour either of a new
inquest or of reopening the investigations in some
other way. It was very well informed and the public
were soon in possession of the main facts of the case.
The interest aroused was enormous. Every day
letters appeared, not only in the Telegraph, but in
the medical journals and other papers, from persons
anxious to suggest how the fatal dose had been
absorbed. The most popular theory was that there
was poison in the Burgundy which the deceased
gentleman drank at his dinner. A large quantity of
tartar emetic, wrote one correspondent, could be
introduced into that particular wine without fear of
detection, while another asserted no less positively
that Burgundy, by reason of the tannin which it con-
tained, was a most unsuitable vehicle for the secret
administration of antimony. Both Dr. Moore and
Dr. Harrison related their experiences in the Daily


36
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
Telegraph and Dr. Johnson supplied the Lancet with
the medical history of the case. Before she had
been a fortnight at Brighton, Mrs. Bravo was pain-
fully aware that people were everywhere discussing
the circumstances which had made her, once again,
a widow. The language of the newspapers and
their correspondents was, if unpleasantly suggestive,
necessarily somewhat guarded, but the writers of
the anonymous letters which she daily received stated
their suspicions with brutal frankness. By the advice
of her father she caused an advertisement to be
issued, on May 16th, offering a reward of £500 to
anyone who could prove a sale of antimony or
tartar emetic, “ in such a manner as would throw a
satisfactory light on the mode by which Mr. Bravo
came by his death."
Two days later, on May 18th, the Liberal member
for Dewsbury, Mr. Sergeant Simon, having given
the usual notice, asked the Home Secretary “whether
your attention has been called to the unsatisfactory
character of the Coroner's inquest on the late Mr.
C. Bravo.” In reply Mr., afterwards Lord, Cross
acknowledged that irregularities had been com-
mitted. He was, he declared “ entirely dissatisfied
with the way the inquiry had been conducted." He
was not as yet in a position to say what action would
be taken, but meanwhile all the papers were in the
hands of the law officers of the Crown. Already,
before the Home Secretary delivered this pro-
nouncement, Mr. Stevenson, the Solicitor for the
1 Simon, Sir John (1818–1897), Sergeant-at-Law. Knighted
1886. Founder of Anglo-Jewish Association.


THE BRAVO MYSTERY 37
Treasury, had been charged to hold a private
inquiry. In addition to examining everybody who
could be expected to throw light upon the matter,
Mr. Stevenson, in pursuance of his instructions,
directed Professor Redwood and Inspector Clarke
to make a thorough search of The Priory. Before
carrying it out, it had been necessary to obtain Mrs.
Bravo's permission ; but this was readily given.
Little hope, however, can have been entertained
that a perquisition of this kind would lead to any
useful discovery. Five weeks had elapsed since Mr.
Bravo's death and, if a crime had been committed,
the guilty party would surely, long before this, have
removed or destroyed anything of an incriminating
character. Two days, nevertheless, were devoted
to the operation, but nothing of any importance was
found. Both in Mrs. Bravo's and in Mrs. Cox's
rooms there were homeopathic medicine-chests,
besides a great quantity of loose bottles, but when
their contents were tested they proved to be “ harm-
less domestic medicines.” On May 27th, the Daily
Telegraph announced that thirty witnesses had been
examined and that the inquiry was at an end. The
concluding sentence of this, apparently, inspired
paragraph was significant : “For various reasons
neither Mrs. Bravo nor Mrs. Cox, although ques-
tioned by the police, has been asked to give evidence.”
Both ladies, doubtless, realized that the public
would draw ominous conclusions from their absence
from the inquiry, and both, accordingly, asked to be
allowed to make statements. Before consenting to
hear what they had to say, however, Mr. Stevenson


38
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
insisted that it must be clearly understood that they
came forward voluntarily and that he should ask
them no questions. Mrs. Cox's statement, dated
June 2nd, which she drew up after consultation
with Mr. Brooks, Mrs. Bravo's solicitor, was to the
following effect. She had been a witness at the
inquest on the late Mr. Bravo, but“ from a mistaken
idea of shielding the character of Mrs. Bravo " she
had not told" the full particulars.” As a fact, what
Mr. Bravo had told her, when he was first taken ill,
was, “I have taken poison for Gully, don't tell
Florence. ... There was no reason for his thus
desiring to commit suicide.” Mrs. Bravo, she was
positive, had no communication with Dr. Gully
since her marriage, and their acquaintance, before
the marriage, was “though very imprudent,” she
conscientiously believed, “ entirely of an innocent
character.” Mr. Bravo was a man of violent and
hasty temper. On Good Friday, four days before
his fatal illness, he was annoyed because Mrs. Bravo
wanted to rest after luncheon and did not wish him
to remain in her room. That evening, she sought
to pacify him, but he only replied that his wife was
“ a selfish pig” and that he should go away and
wished that he were dead. “Let her go back to
Gully," he exclaimed more than once. She con-
tinued, nevertheless, to try to appease him and at
last becoming more reasonable" he kissed me on
the cheek”and said, “ You are a good little woman,”
and the next morning made up the quarrel with his
wife. Some weeks earlier, he had had a similar
altercation with Mrs. Bravo about something which


40 THE BRAVO MYSTERY
his mother was interfering-requiring me even to
put down my maid. ... He always met the
postman himself, and took and read my letters.”
He disliked the expense of the contemplated visit
to Worthing, after her miscarriage. They quarrelled
about it in bed and he jumped up and rushed into
his dressing-room saying that he should cut his
throat. On Good Friday, he flew into a passion,
because she wished to be left alone to rest. “He
was always reading Shakespeare, and we had a
happy three weeks before then, and I got quite to
like him and forgot his meanness, which had
previously disgusted me.” Ever since she had been
Dr. Gully's patient at Malvern, in 1870, in the
lifetime of her first husband, the doctor had “ taken
a great and increasing interest in me and my welfare
and I became attached to him and grateful for his
care.” He resided near her when she lived at
Streatham, and when she moved to the Priory he
took a house close by, in Bedford Hill Road. He
was at that time a free man, having given up his
practice at Malvern, in 1871. Before she married
Mr. Bravo, she told him of her former “ attach-
ment" to Dr. Gully and they made a compact that
his name should never be mentioned. This
"attachment,” however, had been “ quite innocent,
and nothing improper had ever passed between
us.”. Yet, although she never saw or communicated
with Dr. Gully after her marriage, her husband
“ was continually, morning, noon and night, speak-
ing of him, always abusing him, calling him that
wretch,' and upbraiding me for my former acquaint-


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
41.
ance with him.” On the morning of the day on
which he was taken ill, he made a scene in the
carriage as they were driving to London. It began
when they were passing Dr. Gully's house. She
told him that she thought " it was cruel of his
always bringing up that name, I am not always
talking to you about that woman.” He admitted
that he was in the wrong and asked her to make it
up and kiss him. But in a pet, she answered, “No,
I won't," and he said, “ You will see what I will do
when I get home.” His appearance was so deter-
mined that she was frightened and kissed him.
After his seizure, when he first recovered conscious-
ness “ he looked up to me in the most piteous
manner and said, 'Kiss me, my wife.'” Later on,
he said to her, “ You must marry again, but not a
word of the past." In the last hours of his life," he
kissed me several times and repeatedly asked his
mother to be kind to his darling wife. When we
first married he thought I took too much sherry,
and I gave it up to please him, for which he thanked
me.” He never admitted to her that he had killed
himself, nor did he charge anyone with having
killed him. “He made no inquiry as to what had
caused his illness."
James Manby Gully, whose name was thus
suddenly brought into the affair, was no obscure
practitioner. He was in his sixty-eight year, having
been born in Jamaica in 1808. As a young man,
after studying in Paris, he passed on to Edinburgh,
where he took his medical degree in 1829. About
this time, his patrimonial estates in the West Indies


42
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
were rendered practically worthless by the abolition
of slavery in the British Colonies and he found
himself, in consequence, almost wholly dependent
upon his profession for a livelihood. Being con-
vinced of the value of hydropathy he moved, in
1842, to Malvern, which in a great measure owes
its prosperity as a watering-place to him. The
'fame of his cures spread far and wide and he could
count devoted followers who believed that he had
completely revolutionized the art of healing. Among
them, seemingly, was Charles Reade, who introduced
him into It's never too late to mend, one of the best
known of his novels, in the character of Dr. Gullson.
Dr. Gully himself was the author of numerous
works, mostly on medical subjects, but among them
was a play, adapted from Dumas' Mlle de Belleisle,
which was produced at Drury Lane in 1839. He
seems to have been a clever and intellectual man
with considerable personal magnetism, whom
women, especially, found most attractive, notwith-
standing that he was short of stature and inclined
to be stout.
After receiving Mrs. Bravo's and Mrs. Cox's
very remarkable statements, the authorities soon
came to a decision as to the course which they
should pursue. On June 19th, the Attorney-
General, Sir John Holker,' made application to the
Court of Queen's Bench for a writ to bring up the
1 Holker, Sir John (1828–1882), Q.C. 1866. Very successful
in patent cases which constituted the larger part of his practice.
Solicitor-General and knighted 1874. Attorney-General follow-
ing year.
wa



El
Gerald
HL
SAUS
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UICY
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YERS
SP
20
2:
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DR. GULLY





THE BRAVO MYSTERY
43
Coroner's Inquisition, in order that it might be
quashed, and for a rule nisi calling upon the Coroner
to show cause why a fresh inquiry should not be
held, before him or before Commissioners appointed
by the Court. The sitting was a lengthy one, the
Lord Chief Justice, Sir Alexander Cockburn, and
his learned brethren on the Bench, showing some
reluctance to comply, notwithstanding that the
Attorney-General stated plainly that he suspected
it “ to be a case of murder” and that, if a new
inquiry was granted, “ facts might be elicited
which would justify a charge against some one or
other.” In these circumstances, Mr. Attorney was
reluctantly compelled to read Mrs. Cox's statement
from beginning to end, omitting only the name of
Dr. Gully. The admissions contained in it that
information of the first importance had been with-
held from the knowledge of the Coroner's Court
overcame their lordships' scruples and the rule was
granted. A week later, it was made absolute and
Mr. Carter was directed to hold a fresh inquiry
with a fresh jury.
The second inquest on the body of Mr. Charles
Bravo was begun, on July 11th, 1876, in the
billiard-room of the Bedford Hotel, which im-
mediately adjoins Balham Station. It was opened
under conditions very different from those
i Cockburn, Sir Alexander (1802–1880). Knighted 1861.
Solicitor and Attorney-General 1851. Prosecuted Palmer 1856.
Lord Chief Justice of England 1859. In previous year succeeded
to baronetcy. Twice declined a peerage. Represented British
Government in Alabama arbitration at Geneva.
Mr. Justice (Sir John) Mellor and Mr. Justice Field.


44 THE BRAVO MYSTERY
which had surrounded the first inquiry. That had
been a kind of family affair of which the public had
no cognizance. Now, every inch of room which
was not reserved for counsel or for the representa-
tives of the Press was taken up by deeply interested
spectators, while less fortunate persons, unable to
gain admission, thronged the approaches to the
Court. Mr. Carter, on this occasion, was assisted
by Mr. Burleigh Muir, who took his seat as legal
assessor to the Coroner. The Attorney-General in
person, Mr., afterwards Sir John, Gorst, Q.C., and
Mr., now Sir Harry, Poland represented the Crown.
Sir Henry James, Q.C., afterwards Lord James of
Herefordi and Mr. Biron appeared for Mrs Bravo,
Mr. Murphy, Q.C., took charge of Mrs. Cox's
interests, and Mr., afterwards Sir George, Lewis,
at that time the junior member of the famous firm
of Lewis and Lewis, solicitors, of Ely Place, watched
the case on behalf of Mr. Joseph Bravo and his
relations generally.
After it had been constituted by the swearing in
of seventeen jurymen, the Court was conveyed by
train to West Norwood Cemetery, for the purpose
of viewing the exhumed body. In order to render
this formality as unobjectionable as possible, a
small portion of the coffin lid had been cut away
* James, Sir Henry, First Lord James of Hereford (1828–1911.)
Q.C. 1869. Solicitor-General and knighted 1873. Attorney-
General same year. Raised to peerage 1895.
2 Biron, Robert John, Q.C. Father of present Sir Chartres
Biron, chief magistrate at Bow Street
3 Lewis, Sir George (1833-1911). Knighted 1892. His
reputation was largely established by the Bravo case.


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
and a piece of glass inserted. As soon as the jury
had thus complied with the law's requirements,
they were taken back to the Bedford Hotel and the
remainder of the day was devoted to the evidence
of Mr. Joseph Bravo. Replying to Mr. Lewis, who
examined him, Mr. Bravo described his stepson's
early life and his subsequent career at the Bar.
Outside his profession, he was greatly interested in
surgery and would sometimes attend operations at
King's College Hospital, of which the deponent was
a governor. Nevertheless, he had no reason to
suppose that, apart from surgery, he had more than
a very general knowledge of medical matters. He
had always lived on the most affectionate and
intimate terms with the deceased and, knowing him
as he did, he could not believe that he had committed
suicide. His stepson was a man “ full of fun," and
hitherto he had never doubted that his marriage
had proved very successful. He and his wife
appeared to be very fond of each other and, so far
as he could judge, he seemed to be perfectly happy.
Nothing had ever arisen to make him think that
the deceased was jealous of anyone and, when
directly questioned on the subject by Mr. Lewis,
he replied emphatically that he had never heard
the name of Dr. Gully mentioned.
At this stage, three letters were put in which the
deceased had written to the witness and to his
mother, just before his fatal illness. If they were
any indication of his state of mind, he was up to
the last in the very best of spirits. In one, dated as
late as Easter Sunday, April 16th, he described


46
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
how, after putting up the lawn-tennis net he had
had a game with the butler and afterwards “ a very
vigorous one with Osman.” In short, as he put it,
he had “ loafed vigorously and enjoyed ” himself
thoroughly. Continuing his evidence, Mr. Bravo
related the circumstances in which he became
acquainted with Mrs. Cox.1 Soon after his marriage,
his stepson consulted him about her. He said
nothing against her, on the contrary, he admitted
that she was very useful, but to retain her added
£400 a year to the household expenses and that was
a greater expense than he considered he was justified
in incurring. “I agreed with him," said Mr. Bravo,
“ and advised Mrs. Cox to return to Jamaica. She
said she should not return.” Coming to the
deceased's illness and death, Mr. Bravo stated that,
when he and Mrs. Bravo arrived at The Priory,
Mrs. Charles Bravo never suggested any explanation
of her husband's alarming condition. On the follow-
ing day, however, Dr. Johnson said, “I may as well
tell you that Mrs. Cox informs me that he has taken
poison.” To this he replied at once, “ There is no
believing such a thing,” and he was firmly of that
opinion still. His stepson was a singularly truthful
man and he had heard him deny repeatedly that he
had knowingly taken any harmful drug. Moreover,
when he spoke thus, he knew that he was going to
die, the doctors having told him that they could
hold out no hopes. Questioned about Mrs. Charles
Bravo's demeanour while her husband lay dying,
Mr. Bravo replied, “ She did not appear much
grieved in any way at the state of affairs.”
10. P. 5


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
47
Certain letters written by Mrs. Charles Bravo to
the witness from Brighton, soon after the first
inquest, were now put in. In all of them she ad-
dressed him as “ Dear Father Joseph,” although in
the first, dated May 5th, she complained angrily
that he had caused “ dear Charlie's drawers to be
sealed.” She must, therefore, remind him that
“ nobody but myself has the power to touch one
single thing belonging to him.” Her father, she
warned him, “ will take care that I have all my dear
husband left to me.” On the following day, she
again wrote, in this instance, to tell him that “a
letter received from Royes Bell fully confirms my
suspicions as to poor Charlie's committing suicide.
Hence his motive for reducing our expenditure, as
he could not tell me how hard he had been pressed
by that dreadful woman. I wish he had, poor
fellow, for I should not have been hard upon him.”
In a third communication, dated May 8th, she with-
drew all she had said in her first letter, which was
written under a misapprehension. She regretted it
very much, having since she knew him only “ ex-
perienced kindness and consideration.” In future,
she hoped that he would think of her as his “ loving
daughter” and cease to address her as “ Mrs.
Florence Bravo.” It was only in legal documents
that she should be so addressed. In reply to Mr.
Lewis, Mr. Bravo declared that there was no truth
in the suggestion that the deceased was pressed for
money. As to the “ dreadful woman” referred to
he knew of no woman who was pressing him. At
an earlier stage of his examination, he had fully


48
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
explained his stepson's pecuniary position. When
he married he settled £20,000 upon him and since
that he had given him about £1100. “ Practically
speaking,” he allowed him," whatever he desired to
have.” The deceased kept an account at the London
and Westminster Bank and he told the manager
never to let his credit balance fall below £100.
In answer to Sir Henry James, Mr. Bravo allowed
that he simply regarded the term “ that horrid
woman ” as the “ expression of one woman about
another.” Only after his stepson's death had it
come to his knowledge that“ he had known a person
at Maidenhead and that that woman's sister had left
£500 in his hands,” and he was told elsewhere that
" the woman had a boy thirteen or fourteen years of
age, not his, but whom he had promised to educate.”
Letters found after his death in the deceased's
chambers were, the next day, put in which fully
confirmed the witness's statements that no demands
for money were being made upon his stepson, who,
it was made perfectly clear, had parted from this
unknown woman-her name was very properly not
disclosed-on quite amicable terms. Incidentally,
it may be mentioned that, three days later, Mr.
M'Calmont stated in evidence that the deceased
had discussed the matter of the Maidenhead lady
with him and had said that “ everything had been
arranged most satisfactorily and that she had
behaved in the most exemplary manner.” Ques-
tioned by Sir Henry James about his stepson's
peculiarities, Mr. Bravo admitted that he “ was
quick in temper.” Never, however, had he said


THE BRAVO MYSTERY 49
that he had “ a horrible temper,” but it was true
that he had said that “ he had a rough edge to his
tongue when he was put out.”
Before Mr. Bravo concluded his evidence, he was
asked by Mr. Gorst about an incident to which he
had alluded when under examination by Mr. Lewis.
One day, early in March, about six weeks before his
fatal illness, his stepson arrived, as he frequently
did, about breakfast time at Palace Green. On this
occasion, he was very pale and, in explanation of his
appearance, said that he had been seized with a
violent fit of nausea in the train between Balham
and Victoria. So sick was he that he was afraid that
the other persons in the carriage must have imagined
that he had been drunk overnight. However, after
drinking a glass of curaçoa he felt better and went
on to Westminster Hall. It was a most unusual
occurrence. Before his marriage, said Mr. Bravo,
the deceased was never subject to attacks of vomiting.
The next three days were devoted wholly to the
medical evidence. Dr. Moore and Dr. Harrison
described the condition in which they found the
deceased, when they were called in, on the night of
Tuesday, April 18th, and Dr. Johnson and Mr.
Royes Bell related the history of the case from the
time of their arrival, in the early hours of Wednesday,
until the end came, on the following Friday morning.
“ Directly the deceased recovered consciousness,"
said Dr. Moore," he asked his wife to kiss him. He
was very affectionate in his manner to her and she
appeared to reciprocate his affection.” As far as he
could judge her attitude towards him was“ perfectly


50
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
natural.” He had “never seen a case of poisoning
by antimony” and had “ never heard of such a thing
as suicide by antimony.” Vomiting, in his opinion,
would set in about a quarter of an hour after a large
dose had been swallowed. Dr. Harrison was posi-
tive that during the four hours in which he was in
the house before the arrival of Mr. Royes Bell and
Dr. Johnson, Mrs. Cox never told him that the
deceased had acknowledged to her that he had taken
poison. But, had she said anything to that effect,
Dr. Moore and he could scarcely have acted differ-
ently from what they did. “To have used the stomach
pump must have killed him instantly." He did not
see“ the slightest sign of feigning or acting on the
part of Mrs. Bravo. She seemed to be natural in her
affectionate remarks to her husband.” He never
knew of a case of suicide by antimony. He had
once himself accidentally taken a fairly large dose of
antimony and he only began to vomit two hours
later.
The evidence of Mr. Royes Bell and Dr. Johnson
was mainly concerned with the symptoms of the
deceased and with those incidents immediately pre-
ceding his death which have already been fully
described. In addition, however, both gentlemen
gave the Court the benefit of their observations and
general impressions, and these, needless to say, are
deserving of careful consideration. Mr. Royes Bell
knew the deceased intimately since he was a child
and, on April 9th,“ the Sunday before Good Friday,
spent the afternoon with him. He was then in
perfect health and good spirits and full of fun.”


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
51
Although not a religious man, before he made his
will, on the Wednesday, the second day of his illness,
he offered up an extempore prayer and invited all
who were present to join with him in repeating the
Lord's Prayer. He never perceived, said Mr. Bell,
“ any trace in the deceased of a jealous or unkind
feeling towards his wife. He often kissed her and
called her by a pet name. After he had made his
will, he was tossing about in his bed and I said to
him," continued Mr. Bell, “. Charlie, have you
anything on your mind ?' 'No,' he replied, “I
have not led a religious life.' In my judgment,”
added the witness," he was not at all a likely man
to commit suicide.”
Dr. Johnson had “ never seen Mrs. Bravo before
this case and her usual manner was unknown to me."
She appeared to be anxious for her husband to
recover, and her conduct, generally, seemed to be
perfectly natural. In one instance, however, her
demeanour surprised him and gave him cause for
reflection. “While talking in the presence of Mrs
Bravo, I unintentionally,” said Dr. Johnson, “re-
ferred to Mrs. Cox's statement that he had taken
poison, and Mrs. Bravo, turning to Mrs. Cox,
asked, ' Did he say that he had taken poison ?' Mrs.
Cox replied, 'Yes, he did. Nothing more passed
and I was astonished that Mrs. Bravo did not display
more feeling than she did display when this was
mentioned.” Questioned about Professor Redwood's
report, Dr. Johnson declared that the deceased must
have swallowed a large quantity of antimony, perhaps
thirty or forty grains. It could hardly have been


52
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
less, seeing that in the food vomited through the
window ten grains were discovered. Had he swal-
lowed such a dose“ in the earlier period of dinner,
he would,” in Dr. Johnson's opinion, “ have been
taken ill before he left the table. If thirty or forty
grains were mixed with Burgundy a good judge of
wine would detect the intrusion. The wine would
become turbid.” With regard to Sir William Gull's
visit, Dr. Johnson stated that he followed Sir
William into the sick-room, when he returned to it
at the special request of the deceased. He heard
the poor man call upon God to be his witness that
he had spoken nothing but the truth in denying that
he had taken poison. “I was struck," said Dr.
Johnson, “by his earnestness.” Neither Mr.
Royes Bell nor Dr. Johnson had ever heard of a case
of suicide by antimony.
Sir William Gull, it was notorious, was disposed
to think that the deceased had deliberately poisoned
himself. Moreover, the account which he now gave
to the Court of his visit to The Priory differed in
several important particulars from that of Dr.
Johnson. He was, consequently, somewhat severely
cross-examined by Mr. Lewis, a proceeding which
he resented greatly. When the deceased recalled him
to his bedside, it was merely, stated Sir William, in
order to inquire whether “I thought that he was
dying.” Dr. Johnson was not present on that occa-
sion. He could not recollect that the deceased had
said anything to him to the effect that he had spoken
the truth and nothing but the truth. He might have
done so, indeed, he was not prepared to swear that


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
he had not. And when he made that admission, he
complained angrily that he had not come into
Court“ to prevaricate ” and that Mr. Lewis's ques-
tions were “ unbecoming.” He had been called in,
said Sir William after this outburst, to see the
deceased " for disease,” and “on my own responsi-
bility and without consultation I informed him
that he was not suffering from disease but from
poison.” To his astonishment he displayed no
surprise. It was inconceivable "that a man should
not exhibit surprise when such a statement was
made to him, and I was, therefore, led to conclude
that he knew it already.” He allowed, however,
that, if the deceased had already been told he was
suffering from poison, he might well receive the
same news from him without expressing astonish-
ment. Previous to this business, he had never met
Mrs. Bravo herself, but he had known her family
and her father for a long time past. In her note to
him she merely said, “ My husband is dangerously
ill. Could you come as soon as possible to see
him?” “I think,” said Sir William, “ if Mrs.
Bravo had the slightest conception that her husband
was dying of poison she would hardly have written
to me as she did.” In his opinion, it was impossible
for a man to take forty grains of antimony without
tasting it, but he had no personal knowledge of a
case of poisoning by antimony.
In consequence of the discrepancies between his
evidence and that of Sir William, Dr. Johnson was
recalled, at a later stage of the inquiry, and made a
second deposition, to the following effect. When


54
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
he drove down to the Priory with Sir William Gull,
he not only imparted to him the whole history of the
case, but told him what Mrs. Cox, had said. If
after this conversation with him in the carriage,
Sir William still expected to see “a case of disease"
he must either have disbelieved him completely or
have been “strangely forgetful.” And he had to
complain of another inaccuracy. He was certainly
present in the sick-room when Sir William returned
to it, at the request of the deceased, who, in his
hearing, asserted with great earnestness that he had
kept nothing back but had spoken“ the entire truth.”
It was about four o'clock in the morning of the
Wednesday, April 19th, that he inadvertently re-
ferred to Mrs. Cox's statement, in the presence of
Mrs. Bravo. Undoubtedly, therefore, she was
aware that her husband was supposed to be suffering
from the effects of poison when, on the following
day, she wrote to beg Sir William to see him.
The greater part of Professor Redwood's evidence
was merely a repetition of what he had said at the
first inquest. But, on this occasion, after stating
that the specimens submitted to him contained
antimony, in the form of tartar emetic, he went on
to make some explanatory remarks. The amount
taken by the deceased could not, he considered
“ have been less than twenty grains, and probably
ranged between twenty and forty. A dose of one
and a half or two grains would act as an emetic in
half an hour. Taken in water twenty minutes would
be the minimum time. Taken in Burgundy and
with food the action might be delayed somewhat.


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
55
I have experimented with Burgundy and other wines.
There was no sensible difference in colour.” Then,
turning to another aspect of the case, he“ produced
a glass containing forty grains of antimony and four
ounces of water, and observed that a small quantity
of the mixture might be held in the mouth for a
short time without any taste being perceived." To
illustrate this, the witness took some in his mouth
and Sir Henry James and several jurymen followed
his example. No taste, they declared, was percept-
ible.
Frederick Rowe, the butler, was an important
witness, inasmuch as he was the only person who
might perhaps be able to explain what had happened
to the Burgundy left undrunk at the deceased's last
dinner. He seems to have been a well-disposed and
truthful person, but, unfortunately, it was soon
apparent that he was not a careful servant. He
entered, he stated, Mrs. Ricardo's service about a
month before she married Mr. Bravo. For dinner,
on April 18th, he decanted two bottles of sherry, one
of Marsala and one of Burgundy. The establish-
ment was conducted on liberal lines and this was the
usual scale on which wine was opened. His cellar
book, it should be mentioned, fully bore out this
last statement. The ladies, undoubtedly, drank a
good deal of sherry, but Mr. Bravo seldom took
more than a pint of wine. On this particular night,
he drank, to the best of the witness's belief, about
three glasses of Burgundy only. Had he emptied
the decanter, he would have been greatly surprised
and must certainly have noticed it. Any wine left


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
57
gentleman, one of the kindest I ever knew.” In the
witness's “mind” his sudden illness, on April 18th,
“ was accounted for by the cob running away with
him that afternoon." When the deceased went
upstairs to dress for dinner, and to take the bath
which the witness had prepared for him, he seemed
to be in pain and moved stiffly. He, also, appeared
out of sorts at dinner. “Now tell us,” said Mr.
Gorst,“ do you think he was poisoned before
dinner?” “I cannot tell,” answered Rowe after
some hesitation, “ I think there was something wrong
with the deceased's stomach at dinner. I put it
down to the horse accident at the time.”
Mary Anne Keeber, the housemaid, proved a
most intelligent witness and gave a very clear and
lucid description of all that happened when the
deceased was first taken ill. What she had to say on
that point, however, has been related on a former
page. But in regard to other matters she also gave
some important evidence. Prior to April 18th, she
had been in Mrs. Bravo's service for about two
years and three months, having come to her just
before she moved from Streatham to The Priory.
When, after her marriage, Mrs. Bravo gave up her
maid, the witness, in addition to her other duties,
waited on her personally. She had thus numerous
opportunities of observing the newly married couple.
They appeared to be very fond of each other and she
never perceived the smallest sign of jealousy on the
part of the deceased. Nor did she ever hear the
name of Dr. Gully mentioned between them. Mr.
Bravo was a kind and considerate master and she


58
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
and all her fellow-servants were devoted to him.
Before the marriage, Dr. Gully constantly came to
luncheon and to dinner at The Priory and he was
there at other times besides. But, since the marriage,
she did not believe that he had ever been to the
house. In reply to Mr. Gorst, she stated that when
the deceased was sick, after Mrs. Cox had given him
mustard and water, she held the basin. Afterwards,
by Mrs. Cox's orders, she removed it, threw the
vomited matter down the sink, washed the basin
and brought it back to the deceased's bedroom.
Mr. Bravo made a practice of cleaning his teeth
three times a day. He certainly washed them when
he dressed for dinner, on April 18th, and she filled
up his water-bottle, when she was tidying his room,
while he was at dinner. She could not say whether
he was in the habit of drinking water from this
bottle before he went to bed.
Amelia Bushell, Mrs. Joseph Bravo's maid, re-
peated what she had said at the first inquest. But,
in answer to Mr. Lewis, she now added that she was
present in the sick-room when Sir William Gull
returned to it, and that she heard the deceased
declare to him in the most solemn manner that he
had taken nothing except laudanum. After Sir
William left, the deceased repeated the Lord's
Prayer and asked her and the other persons present
to say it with him. On the Wednesday, the day of
her arrival at The Priory, Mrs. Charles Bravo, who
was crying, said to her, “What a dreadful thing,
Amelia. The only thing by which I can account
1 o.p.30.


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
59
for it is that Mr. Charles took lunch at St. James's
Hall and had something cooked in a coppery pan.”
From the witness's knowledge of the deceased,
having lived in the same house with him for fifteen
years and having seen him grow up, she could say
that he was “a most unlikely person to commit
suicide—the last man likely to do so.”
Miss Ann Maria Bell's account of what took place,
on the occasion of Sir William Gull's visit, was
substantially the same as the last witness. On the
previous afternoon, shortly after she arrived at The
Priory, she walked round the garden with Mrs.
Charles Bravo. Speaking of her married life, Mrs.
Bravo said to her, “ We have been very, very happy
and Charles says that he has never been so happy in
his life. We have never had a word together.” She
never, continued Miss Bell, hinted for a moment
that the deceased was jealous or had cause for
jealousy. Nor did she in any way account for his
illness. “From my intimate knowledge of the
deceased,” declared the witness, “ I can say that he
was not a man at all likely to commit suicide." In
answer to Sir Henry James, she said, “I did not
know anything about Dr. Gully, and until public
attention was directed to his name I never heard
anything about him.”
As soon as Miss Bell's deposition was concluded,
George Griffiths was called—a witness who was to
occupy the attention of the Court for the greater
part of three whole days. But, when his evidence
came to be tested, it was found to be of little value.
Put very briefly it amounted to this. He drove Dr.


60
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
Gully for about eight years, while he was in practice
at Malvern, and was, subsequently, engaged as
coachman by Mrs. Bravo-Mrs. Ricardo as she then
was. He remained with her for about four years
and, while in her employ, married Fanny Plascot,
her former maid. Soon after that event, he quitted
her service for a time, but came back to her at The
Priory in the spring of 1875, about six months before
she married Mr. Bravo. And, as he quite frankly
told the Court, it was his impression that, had it not
been for that gentleman, he would still be her coach-
man. The deceased, however, considered that he
was unsafe and, in consequence, he received notice
to quit. He had, he acknowledged, come into
violent collision with another vehicle, on the day of
the Lord Mayor's Show, when he was driving his
mistress and Mrs. Cox in Bond Street. Accordingly,
on January 3rd, 1876, two or three days before Mr.
and Mrs. Bravo returned from their honeymoon
visits to Buscot and Palace Green, he left The
Priory in a very aggrieved state of mind. The
importance, however, which was attached to his
evidence was due to the fact that he asserted that,
while he was in the service of both Dr. Gully and
Mrs. Ricardo, he was in the habit of administering
tartar emetic to their horses, not“ black antimony"
nor “ liver antimony,” but white tartar emetic, the
very drug which had killed Mr. Bravo. Now,
Griffiths had departed before the deceased took up
his residence at The Priory, but, if it were true that
for some time before that a supply of tartar emetic
was kept at the stables, some of it might very well


62
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
might have said “five or six months,” admitted
Griffiths. “And what did you mean by that ? ”
inquired Mr. Lewis. He meant nothing. “I said
it in aggravation,” protested Griffiths. That was,
doubtless, the truth, nevertheless, Mr. Stringer was
sworn and related that, on the day on which Mr.
and Mrs. Bravo were married, he had a brief con-
versation regarding them with the last witness who,
he was aware, was under notice to leave The Priory.
“ Missus,” said Griffiths,“ will be sure to have a
lot of brandy before she goes to the wedding. Poor
fellow, I should not like to be in his shoes; he won't
be alive in four months.”
John Pritchard, Dr. Gully's butler for the last
twenty years, was now called. It should be men-
tioned that, while Griffiths was under examination,
Mr. Archibald Smith informed the Court that he
had been instructed to watch the case on behalf of
Dr. Gully, in conjunction with his learned friend,
Mr. Sergeant Parry. This step was, doubtless,
considered necessary, in consequence of a suggestion
which had been made to Griffiths that he had pur-
chased tartar emetic at Malvern, not for his own
purposes, but by order of the doctor, his master.
There was a “ great attachment,” said Pritchard,
“ between Dr. Gully and Mrs. Ricardo.” But,
about the beginning of last November, they became,
what he might call, “not so friendly,” and he
received orders to refuse admittance both to Mrs.
Ricardo and to Mrs. Cox. About the same time,
Dr. Gully sent back to Mrs. Ricardo the key of the
gate at The Priory, which he had hitherto had in


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
63
his possession, and returned all the presents which
she had made him. Mrs. Ricardo, on her side,
acted in the same manner as regards the pictures and
other articles which he had given her. On April
19th, the witness learnt that Mr. Bravo was very
seriously ill and, on the following morning, Mrs.
Cox came to the door and, in the circumstances, he
took upon himself to admit her. At these words,
there was an outburst of derisive laughter from
certain persons in Court which caused Mr. Sergeant
Parry to protest strongly against such behaviour.
Mr. Gorst, he complained, had joined in the laugh,
a remark to which the learned counsel replied by
saying that he should smile when he chose, he was
not going through the case with “ a wooden face.”
This retort was so warmly approved of by the
audience, that the Coroner was constrained to warn
them that he should clear the Court, if there should
be any further disturbance. Mrs. Cox, continued
the witness after this interlude, was only with Dr
Gully for about four or five minutes and he was not
informed of the reason of her visit. He knew Mr.
Bravo by sight and often saw him pass the house, on
his way to the station. He did not appear to take
any special interest in it and never looked up. After
the deceased's death, Dr. Gully remarked to the
witness that it was “a bad job and the last inquest
was not satisfactory.”
At this stage, several of the deceased's barrister
friends were called to testify to various matters
which had come under their notice. All of them, in
turn, declared that it was inconceivable that the


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
65
woman would make him take a painful and uncer-
tain poison with the effect of which he was thoroughly
acquainted.” Mr. Meredith Brown, a stockbroker
and a member of the firm of Alexander and Co.,
deposed that he had carried out a number of small
transactions for the deceased, whom he knew
intimately. These, since the year 1873, resulted in
a profit of £87. “The deceased was a very careful
man and would no doubt be worried by losses. He
was deeply interested in financial questions."
Much of the evidence of Mrs. Campbell, Mrs.
Bravo's mother, was concerned with the circum-
stances and conditions of her daughter's life while
she was married to Captain Ricardo, and had only
a remote connection with the questions before the
Court. Nevertheless, both the Attorney-General
and Mr. Lewis elicited some interesting facts from
her. When she and her son arrived at Balham
Station, on the afternoon of Thursday, April 20th,
they were met by Mrs. Cox with whom they drove
to The Priory. From Mrs. Cox's manner and from
what she said, the witness gathered the impression
that her son-in-law had deliberately taken poison.
But, when they reached the house, her daughter
only spoke of the cooking vessels at St. James's
Hall as the source of the mischief. At that time, her
daughter appeared to know nothing about the sug-
gestion of poison. It was not until an hour or two
later, after Sir William Gull's visit, that she seemed
“ to know it." Her daughter“ first learnt that it
was tartar emetic the deceased had taken from the
elder Mr. Bravo after the funeral. She said that


64
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
deceased should have committed suicide. He had
neither worries nor cares, to their knowledge, and
seemed very happily married. Mr. M'Calmont
stayed at The Priory, about February 14th, and
had some conversation about Mrs. Cox with the
deceased, who spoke of her with affection, and said
she was“ very useful.” Mr. Edward Stanley Hope 1
dined at The Priory, on March 22nd, when the
deceased made the same remark to him. He next
saw him, on April 11th, in the Exchequer Court.
He had a pen in his hand and appeared to be
engaged upon some calculation Presently, he re-
marked to him, “ After all, Mrs. Cox must be costing
us £300 a year,” and the witness replied, “ Why,
you might keep another pair of horses for that." In
his opinion, the deceased was “ not fond of money,
but liked to talk about investments.” Mr. Edward
Carlyle Willoughby, the gentleman who, it has
already been mentioned, communicated with Scot-
land Yard after the funeral, deposed that the deceased
had recommended him to follow his example " and
get married.” Mr. T. Jepson Atkinson lived with
the deceased for two years at Oxford and, more
recently, stayed with him in London and in Paris.
He always took, before going to bed, a deep draught
of water from the bottle on his washing-stand. “ It
was an inveterate habit of his.” The deceased had
made a special study of medical jurisprudence,
and the witness was certain that “no feeling for a
1 Afterwards Sir Edward Stanley Hope, K.C.B. Died
February 15th, 1921.
2 v., p. 34.
was


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
65
woman would make him take a painful and uncer-
tain poison with the effect of which he was thoroughly
acquainted.” Mr. Meredith Brown, a stockbroker
and a member of the firm of Alexander and Co.,
deposed that he had carried out a number of small
transactions for the deceased, whom he knew
intimately. These, since the year 1873, resulted in
a profit of £87. “The deceased was a very careful
man and would no doubt be worried by losses. He
was deeply interested in financial questions."
Much of the evidence of Mrs. Campbell, Mrs.
Bravo's mother, was concerned with the circum-
stances and conditions of her daughter's life while
she was married to Captain Ricardo, and had only
a remote connection with the questions before the
Court. Nevertheless, both the Attorney-General
and Mr. Lewis elicited some interesting facts from
her. When she and her son arrived at Balham
Station, on the afternoon of Thursday, April 20th,
they were met by Mrs. Cox with whom they drove
to The Priory. From Mrs. Cox's manner and from
what she said, the witness gathered the impression
that her son-in-law had deliberately taken poison.
But, when they reached the house, her daughter
only spoke of the cooking vessels at St. James's
Hall as the source of the mischief. At that time, her
daughter appeared to know nothing about the sug-
gestion of poison. It was not until an hour or two
later, after Sir William Gull's visit, that she seemed
“ to know it.” Her daughter“ first learnt that it
was tartar emetic the deceased had taken from the
elder Mr. Bravo after the funeral. She said that
5


66
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
she had never heard of that poison.” From about
the time of Captain Ricardo's death, in April, 1871,
until she became engaged to Mr. Bravo, in the
autumn of 1875, her daughter was completely
estranged from her family, owing to her intimacy
with Dr. Gully which, Mrs. Campbell stated, had
their “ entire disapproval.” She also had reason to
remonstrate with her daughter about the amount
of wine which she was in the habit of drinking.
About this same time, her daughter brought a suit
in Chancery against her father, in regard to certain
matters connected with her marriage settlement.
It was not, however, on that account that they
declined to receive her, but solely because of her
“ attachment "to Dr. Gully. Yet“ I did not accept
my daughter's position with Dr. Gully as being
criminal.” She merely thought that she “ enter-
tained an extraordinary infatuation” for him.
This unhappy state of affairs went on until, about
the end of October, 1875, her daughter wrote to
assure her father that she had given up Dr. Gully
and that “the past " was for ever“ blotted out."
Both she and her husband, said Mrs. Campbell,
thoroughly approved of their daughter's second
marriage and their relations with their son-in-law
were always most friendly. When they were first
engaged, he confided to her that her daughter had
“ behaved most nobly ” and had told him about
her former“ attachment " to Dr. Gully. It never
“ struck” her that he understood by that that“ their
intimacy had been of a criminal character.” She
imagined that, like herself, he regarded it as “an


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
67
innocent infatuation.” Nevertheless, she endeav-
oured to persuade him to tell his mother all about
it, but he would not accept her advice, and grew
angry when she persisted in pressing it upon him.
She was convinced that he was very fond of her
daughter and she was equally sure that her daughter
loved him and that “ her love for him remained -
until his death.” She had every reason to think
that their married life was perfectly happy. When
the deceased was staying at Buscot, after the honey-
moon, he spoke to her about an anonymous letter
which he had received. He talked of it as “ a vile
letter ” and said that he suspected that Dr. Gully
had written it. Never at any time, however, did he
lead her to suppose that he was uneasy on Dr.
Gully's account. It was her daughter and Mrs.
Cox who told her that he was very jealous of him
and was “ unhappy when he passed his house."
Her daughter never said to her that she had ceased
to like her husband, or that she was “ disgusted
with him," or that he was “ mean.” It was true
that “ she thought him penurious and saving, mean-
ness is according to people's ideas.” When her
husband died, her daughter“ seemed quite stunned
and exhibited every mark of sincere grief.” After
the funeral, she went to Brighton with Mrs. Cox
and, about the beginning of June, the witness took
her home with her to Buscot. Her daughter was
“mentally excited,” owing to “ the newspapers and
the wicked anonymous letters which were sent to
her.” Mrs. Cox did not accompany her to Buscot.
That lady was now staying in Manchester Street and


68
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
“ intended going to Jamaica, as soon as the inquiry
was over." Her daughter and Mrs. Cox were still
on good terms. The witness did not think that the
deceased was a likely man to commit suicide. In
reply to a member of the jury, she described him as
having“ a money mania.” He constantly spoke of
“the cost of things, the cost of carriages and such-
like.” She was aware that, although her daughter
inherited a fortune from her first husband, she
refused to pay the debts which, she supposed, they
contracted together. It had come to her knowledge,
the witness understood, that when Captain Ricardo
died at Cologne“ there was some woman with him.”
There was a great stir in the densely, crowded
Court, as in response to the summons, “ Call Mrs.
Cox," a middle-aged woman of somewhat in-
significant appearance, dressed entirely in black and
with spectacles upon her nose, made her way to the
table. Apart from any question of her veracity,
Mrs. Cox was not a good witness. She spoke in a
low and not very distinct voice and, when an awkward
question was put, developed a habit of looking down
and of reflectively brushing the table with her gloved
hand. In answer to Mr. Murphy, she told the story
of her early life and related how she had been be-
friended by Mr. Bravo, senior, and how her inti-
macy with Mrs. Ricardo had begun. She was
about to recount the incidents of Mr. Charles
Bravo's courtship at Brighton, when Mr. Lewis
interposed with the remark that she was certainly
capable of speaking louder. This observation was
1 v. p. 5.



MRS. COX


THE BRAVO MYSTERY 69
received with noisy approval by the audience, an
irregularity which evoked angry protests from
counsel representing the different parties. “ This
is monstrous,” said Sir Henry James, while Sergeant
Parry's indignation knew no bounds. “ Applause in
a Court of Justice !” he exclaimed. “ It is terrible,
it is fearful. There is a sort of reign of terror in
reference to everybody who is called.” “ It is not
surprising," complained Mr. Murphy, “ that the
witness cannot be heard, if she is subjected to
demonstrations like that." After the Coroner had
issued his usual warning, that the Court would be
cleared should anything of the kind occur again,
Mrs. Cox proceeded in a somewhat louder tone.
Even before she was formally engaged to him, Mrs.
Ricardo was perfectly frank with the deceased about
her former "attachment " to Dr. Gully, and the
witness herself advised him to tell his mother about
it. But“ he would not hear of it.” Before this, Mrs.
Ricardo had completely broken with Dr. Gully and,
when she returned to The Priory from Brighton,
sent back all the presents which he had made her,
receiving in exchange those which she had given him.
Before the marriage took place, the deceased told the
witness that, as regards herself, nothing should be
changed, and he cordially expressed the wish that she
would stay on at The Priory. After the honeymoon,
he spoke to her of an anonymous letter. It contained
something to the effect that he had married Dr.
Gully's former mistress for money. He showed it
to her and asked her whether the writing was Dr.
Gully's. She replied that she did not think so.


70
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
Undoubtedly, the deceased was greatly disturbed
by this letter.
After the marriage, she herself, Mrs. Cox went on
to state, saw Dr. Gully, on several occasions. Once,
towards the end of February, she met him close to
the Army and Navy Stores. They had a friendly
conversation and he asked her to send him back a
book of press cuttings, which Mrs. Bravo had for-
gotten to return. At this time, the witness was
frequently obliged to go up to London to see after
matters connected with her house in Lancaster Road
and, before long, she met him once more close to
Balham Station. Again, they stopped and talked and
she took the opportunity of telling him that Mr.
Bravo suspected him of writing anonymous letters.
He absolutely denied, however, that he was the
author of any communications of that kind and she
then asked him to send her his “ treatment" for
Jamaica fever. About two days later, as she was
going out of the gate at The Priory, Mr. Bravo, who
seemed to be waiting for her, gave her two letters
which he had taken from the postman. The address
of one of them was, he said, in Dr. Gully's writing
and he must ask her to let him see the contents. In
effect, one of them did contain the" treatment" and
she allowed him to look at it, although she resented
his behaviour. It was a mystery to her how the
deceased was able to recognize Dr. Gully's writing.
On another occasion, a few days later, she met Dr.
Gully and asked him to let her have his“ treatment "
for the ague, which generally precedes Jamaica fever
and, in order not to upset the deceased, she requested


THE BRAVO MYSTERY 71
him to forward it to her house in Lancaster Road.
Shortly after Mrs. Bravo's miscarriage, on April 6th,
she again saw Dr. Gully at Balham Station. He
inquired after Mrs. Bravo and she told him that she
suffered from insomnia and pains in the back. He
recommended spinal washes and cold sitz baths,
morning and evening, and promised that he would
think it over and suggest some remedy for her
sleeplessness. He proved as good as his word for,
on April 10th, she found awaiting her in Lancaster
Road the “ treatment ” for the pains and a small
bottle of “cerasee " or laurel-water for sleeplessness.
The word “ treatment,” the witness explained, was
a term always used by hydropathists. Mrs. Bravo
followed out the "treatment,” but never tried the
laurel-water, as she was once more sleeping fairly
well. About this time, the witness received a letter
from an aunt, from whom she had expectations,
suggesting that she should go out to Jamaica. She
discussed the matter with the deceased, who was of
opinion that she ought to go. But he assured her
that he would gladly receive her back, on her return,
and that, while she was away, he would undertake
to look after her boys. She made up her mind
to go and was only prevented from carrying out
her intention by Mr. Bravo's death. She was
perfectly certain that, after her marriage, Mrs.
Bravo neither saw nor held any communication
with Dr. Gully.
Mrs. Cox was now asked to relate the incidents
referred to in her statement of June and, and to
describe the different events in which she had been


72
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
concerned connected with the deceased's illness.
Having spoken of the deceased's hasty temper and
most unreasonable jealousy, she proceeded to re-
count his matrimonial quarrels, in all of which she
had, with more or less success, played the part of
peacemaker. Passing on to April 18th, she explained
the measures which she had taken to relieve him
when he was seized with sickness and, after relating
her conversations with the doctors, carried on the
story of the case down to its fatal termination. She
never mentioned the word “poison ”to Dr. Moore,
because she thought the deceased would recover and
would be very angry, were he to find out that a
Balham doctor had been told that he had attempted
to commit suicide. On the Wednesday, on the first
occasion on which she was left alone in the sick-room,
the deceased turned to her and said, "Why did you
tell them? Does Florence know I have poisoned
myself ?” She answered, “I was obliged to tell
them, I could not let you die.” Nothing further
passed between them and he never referred to the
matter again. She did not mention that she had had
this conversation with the deceased to any of the
doctors or to anybody else, because she thought,
“ He did not wish me to." Early on the Thursday
morning, she went at Mrs. Bravo's urgent request
to see Dr. Gully. She told him that the deceased had
said to her that he had taken poison, and described
his symptoms. He recommended the homeopathic
treatment which, half an hour later, Mrs. Bravo
described to Dr. Johnson and Mr. Royes Bell with
the words, “ You have had your way, and I as his


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
73
wife will now have mine."1 Dr. Gully's name was
not mentioned because “it would not have been a
pleasant name to mention there.” She could not
say whether the deceased was in the habit of drinking
a glass of water in his bedroom before going to bed.
After her husband's death, Mrs. Bravo requested
her to throw away the laurel-water which she had
never had occasion to use. At the first inquest,
when relating what the deceased had said to her,
when he was first taken ill, she omitted the words
“ for Gully.” She saw“no harm in it," seeing that
the deceased's jealousy of Dr. Gully was baseless
and that to have brought in his name would have
injured Mrs. Bravo's reputation. Dr. Dille was the
first person to whom she confided that the deceased
had taken poison, on Dr. Gully's account. She told
him about it when she went down to Brighton, at
the time of the first inquest, to secure the Brunswick
Terrace lodgings. Dr. Dill knew all about Dr.
Gully's “ attachment” to Mrs. Bravo. This con-
cluded what may be termed Mrs. Cox's examination-
in-chief. It had occupied the Court for more than
two days.
The first part of the Attorney-General's cross-
examination was directed to establishing the nature
of Dr. Gully's relations with Mrs. Bravo during her
first widowhood. He elicited that it was their
practice to make frequent trips to the Continent and
to seaside resorts and other places in England. On
these occasions, the witness generally accompanied
them, but, in some instances, notably in the case of
10. p. 25. ? A well-known Brighton doctor.


74 THE BRAVO MYSTERY
a visit to Kissingen, in 1873, they went alone. When
Mrs. Ricardo was at home, whether in the Leigham
Court Road or, later on, at The Priory, Dr. Gully
was constantly in the house. In these circumstances,
asked Mr. Attorney, had it never occurred to the
witness that "they were something more than
friends”? A suspicion to that effect had, she
admitted, crossed her mind. Dr. Gully, however,
was long past sixty. He had been separated from
his wife for thirty years and the witness was prepared
to concede that, “ if he had not been married, it
might have been a match.” “Now," inquired Mr.
Attorney,“ do you think Mr. Bravo would have
married her if he had known as much as you have
told us?” “Yes, indeed, he would,” declared the
witness. He was told everything there was to tell.
In October, 1875, there was no quarrel between Mrs.
Ricardo and Dr. Gully. She merely wrote to tell
him that she intended to be reconciled to her
family and she must, therefore, give up her acquaint-
ance with him. They had an interview at Brighton.
He was much grieved and she was deeply pained.
Just before the marriage, she had another farewell
interview with him at The Priory, not in the house,
but in the Lower Lodge. As regards the laurel-
water, Mrs. Bravo asked her to throw it away, “or
they will say it is poison.” She said that, because
Mr. Joseph Bravo called all homeopathic medicines
“poison.” It was true that, when the deceased was
sick, she told Mary Anne Keeber to remove the
vomit. She did not save it, because she wanted the
basin to be clean in case he should again be sick.


THE BRAVO MYSTERY 75
Although the deceased had admitted to her that he
had taken poison, it did not occur to her that the
doctors ought to see the vomited matter. She had
no doubt that it was on account of Dr. Gully that
the deceased had poisoned himself. She was cer-
tainly under the impression that she had told Dr.
Harrison that the deceased had admitted taking
poison. Possibly, chloroform being in her mind,
she might have said " chloroform" instead of
“ poison.” At that time, she did not think the
deceased was dying. “ Dr. Harrison did say that he
did not expect that he would live long.” When she
went to see Dr. Gully, on the Thursday, she did not
tell him that the deceased had taken poison on his
account. She had not seen Dr. Gully since that
day. After Mr. Bravo's death, he wrote to express
his sorrow.
Sir John Holker 1 had put his questions in the
somewhat persuasive style which was habitual to
him, but Mr. George Lewis, who now took the
witness in hand, adopted a sharper tone and more
aggressive methods. And his tactics proved more
effectual. In a short time, Mrs. Cox was fain to
admit that, at Brighton, in the autumn of 1875, at
the time of her engagement to Mr. Bravo, Mrs.
Ricardo had confided to her the intimate character
of her former relations with Dr. Gully. Mr. Lewis
then drew her attention to her statement, dated June
2nd, 1876, in which she said that “ their acquaint-
1 He was known as “sleepy Jack Holker,” but he was a very
successful advocate. He was at this time supposed to be making
£22,000 a year.


76 THE BRAVO MYSTERY
ance, although very imprudent, was, I conscienti-
ously believe, entirely of an innocent character."
“How came you to say that ?” he asked. “I did
not say “I believe,'” was the reply, “but 'I be-
lieved' and so I did, before she told me to the
contrary.” Mr. Lewis did not pursue the subject,
but turned to other matters. The deceased, the
witness affirmed, most certainly“ knew everything”
when he received the anonymous letter. Indeed,
he knew all about Dr. Gully before the marriage,
and, in proof of what she said, she related how, in
the course of a conversation at his stepfather's house,
he asked her whether she thought that his intended
wife would “ go wrong again "? As may be sup-
posed, she answered, No, whereupon he emitted the
remark that he thought that " a woman who had
once gone wrong would be all the more particular
afterwards.” The witness remembered the occasion
on which Dr. Johnson, in Mrs. Bravo's presence,
inadvertently spoke of the deceased's admission that
he had taken poison. She maintained, however, that
Mrs. Bravo did not fully understand what Dr.
Johnson meant, as she was very tired and exhausted
at the time. Replying to Sir Henry James, the
witness said that it was out of “ gratitude to Mrs.
Bravo " that she had been reluctant to disclose the
nature of her relations with Dr. Gully. “ Dr.
Gully was a very fascinating man, one who would be
likely to interest women very much.” The witness
did all in her power“ to restrain Mrs. Bravo from
her habit of drinking, but not with much success."
Mrs. Bravo seemed to feel her estrangement from


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
77
her mother and family very keenly. She did not
associate much with persons in her own position in
life in the neighbourhood. Questioned by Sergeant
Parry, the witness readily acknowledged that “ Dr.
Gully perfectly fulfilled his engagement not to
communicate with Mrs. Bravo, after her marriage.”
She“ knew Mr. Charles Bravo's temper and cha-
racter. He was a man likely to act upon some sudden
uncontrollable impulse of passion.”
Mrs. Cox's examinations had extended over five
days, and she was succeeded at the table by Mrs.
Bravo, who, dressed in full widow's mourning,
entered the Court accompanied by her brother, Mr.
William Campbell. She was a small and decidedly
pretty woman with a soft and winning expression,
but it was the singular beauty of her chestnut
coloured hair which especially attracted attention.
Unlike Mrs. Cox, she invariably spoke in a firm and
distinct voice, and her general demeanour, under a
very severe ordeal, won for her much public sym-
pathy. Sir Henry James, after taking her through
the history of her marriage with Captain Ricardo,
brought the story of her life down to the time of her
first widowhood. From about the summer of 1871,
until the autumn of 1875, Dr. Gully, she stated, was
her constant, almost her only, companion. When she
was staying with Mr. Brooks, on Tooting Common,
he took lodgings close at hand. When she settled
at Streatham, in Leigham Court Road, he came to
live opposite to her and, when she eventually
moved to the Priory, he followed her and took up
his quarters in Bedford Hill Road. In the summer


78
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
of 1875, she made up her mind to break with him.
Her mother, she learnt, was in very delicate health
and, on that account especially, she determined to
put an end to their estrangement. She did not,
however, immediately communicate her intention to
Dr. Gully. He was abroad with some members of
his own family and she did not wish to disturb his
holiday. But, in October, while she and Mrs. Cox
were at Brighton, she wrote to tell him that their
acquaintance must cease. He came down to see her
and she had two very painful interviews with him.
He behaved very well, however, and assured her
that he was ready to acquiesce “ in whatever is for
your happiness.” Mr. Bravo, at that time, had not
yet proposed to her and his name was not men-
tioned. Later on, when Dr. Gully heard of her
engagement, he wrote to her in anger, but soon
afterwards he came to look at the matter in a different
light and withdrew what he had said.
After her return from Germany, in 1873, she had
a miscarriage which was the result of her intimacy
with Dr. Gully. She suffered very much and Dr.
Gully alone attended her. She was very anxious
that the cause of her illness should not transpire
and she kept it a secret, even from Mrs. Cox. Her
intimate relations with Dr. Gully were confined to
this visit to Kissingen. “I was never on those terms
with him before and I never was again.” Before
she finally engaged herself to Mr. Bravo, she told
him everything, not omitting the miscarriage. But,
on the following day—the nineteenth day of the
inquiry–when she reappeared in Court, she ex-


THE BRAVO MYSTERY 79
pressed a wish to correct her former evidence.
Weeping bitterly, she explained that she had been
anxious to conceal the fact that she had been Dr.
Gully's mistress for a long period of time. It was
not true that their intimate relations began at Kis-
singen. But on her oath she adhered to her first
declaration that she was never afterwards on those
terms with him. The remainder of her examination
was concerned with matters more relevant to the
issue before the Court—the story of her married life
with the deceased, including his illness and death,
as set forth in her statement of June and, which was
now for the first time made public. It was only after
Sir William Gull's visit, on Thursday, Aps
that the witness knew that her husband was dying of
poison. Had she realized it earlier, she would not
have sent for him. She only begged Sir William to
come, in order that he might decide what was the
matter. The morning before, when Dr. Johnson
said in her hearing that her husband had taken
poison, she understood him to mean that he had
taken an overdose of laudanum or chloroform. At
that time, it never entered her mind that there was
any question of poison taken deliberately. On the
Thursday morning, when she described Dr. Gully's
"treatment "to the doctors, she did not mention his
name“ because it would have been very distasteful
to my friends and to Mr. Bravo himself.” Knowing
that all the “ regular practitioners ” who had seen
her husband had given him up, she invoked Dr.
Gully's advice. He was in her opinion“ the cleverest
medical man in the world.” But, when Mrs. Cox


80 THE BRAVO MYSTERY
asked Dr. Gully to prescribe for her, she did so on
her own responsibility. not at the witness's request.
Replying to Mr. Lewis, the witness acknowledged
that, with the exception of Mrs. Cox, she knew of no
one in her house who had ever heard the deceased
speak of Dr. Gully. During their short married life,
whenever they were separated, the deceased wrote to
her every day. Fifteen letters were, accordingly, put
in which he had written to her, while she was away
on visits to Buscot and St. Leonards or while he was
on circuit. All of them were couched in the most
affectionate language and were full of lamentations
that she was not with him, and not one of them con-
tained a reference to Dr. Gully. “Now," said Mr.
Lewis,“ having heard those letters read, do you still
mean to tell the jury that your late husband was
always, morning, noon and night, speaking of Dr.
Gully ?” “I do," replied the witness. “I told
others besides Mrs. Cox that he was always abusing
Dr. Gully. I told my mother." On her oath she
declared that she had never been on intimate terms
with Dr. Gully during the lifetime of her former
husband. Prior to his death, their relations at
Malvern were those of an ordinary friendship. Mr.
Lewis, thereupon, handed her a letter which she had
written, on November 16th, 1870, to a woman
named Laundon, who had been her maid. It con-
tained these two sentences. “ I hope you will never
allude in any way to anyone of what passed at Mal-
vern. Let all be buried in the past and if anybody
questions you, please refuse to answer any inquiries.”
“Now, Mrs. Bravo, what did that refer to ?” asked


THE BRAVO MYSTERY 81
Mr. Lewis. “It was to my attachment to Dr.
Gully, but not to a criminal attachment then,”
answered the wretched woman and, bursting into
tears, she appealed to the Coroner to protect her.
Her“ attachment to Dr. Gully had nothing to do
with the death of Mr. Charles Bravo.” But, in spite
of her protest, with which it is impossible not to
sympathize, and, notwithstanding that she declared
her intention of refusing to reply, several other
similar questions were put to her to which she was
obliged to return some kind of an answer. Only,
when he considered that he had applied the right
amount of “moral torture,” to quote the words of
Sergeant Parry, did Mr. Lewis pass on to more
relevant matters.
Inviting the witness's attention to her letter, of
May 6th, 1876, to Mr. Joseph Bravo, in which she
spoke of that “ dreadful woman ” and “ how hard
she was pressing him for money” he inquired
whether she considered that that had driven him to
commit suicide. “When she wrote thus, she really
believed that the woman was pressing him and she,
therefore, thought that that was one of the causes
and jealousy was another.” Mr. Lewis, however,
confronted her with a letter written to her mother,
as late as April 16th, 1876, two days before the
deceased's fatal attack, in which she said, “ Charlie
is walking about with a book under his arm as happy
as a king.” Having thus described him, how could
she now maintain that he was in so acute a state of
misery from jealousy that, two days later, he killed
himself? It was only at Brighton, after the first


82 THE BRAVO MYSTERY
inquest, that Mrs. Cox told her that her husband
had poisoned himself on account of Dr. Gully.
Under examination by Mr. Gorst, she explained the
reason of her interview with Dr. Gully at the Lower
Lodge, just before her marriage. She had had an
unpleasant difference of opinion with Mr. Bravo,
who had told her plainly that he should not marry
her, if her furniture, horses and carriages and other
goods and chattels were included in the settlement.
In this dilemma, she resolved to abide by Dr. Gully's
advice and she sent Mrs. Griffiths, the coachman's
wife, to beg him to come round to see her at once.
She met him at the Lower Lodge, where the Griffithses
lived, and talked the matter over with him in their
parlour. He counselled her to comply with Mr.
Bravo's wishes and she, accordingly, instructed her
lawyer to that effect. When she made her statement
at the Treasury she had no idea that it would be
made public. She imagined it would only be used
“ to throw light upon the mystery.” In re-examina-
tion by Sir Henry James, she said that there were
passages relating to Dr. Gully in the letters to which
Mr. Lewis had called her attention. In the letter of
February 15th the words “bitter trouble" and
“ memory of our sorrow” referred to her confession
of her former intimacy with Dr. Gully. And, in the
letter of March 11th, when her husband wrote, “I
should be glad if I never saw The Priory again,” he
used those words because Dr. Gully lived in the
immediate neighbourhood.
Charles Maddox, the assistant of Mr. Smith, a
Balham chemist, deposed that, on April 8th, Dr.


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
83
Gully came to the shop and asked for a bottle of
laurel-water or aqua lauro-cerasi. He supplied him
with a half-ounce bottle containing 240 drops.
Laurel-water was generally used as a lotion, but it
was occasionally administered internally, in from
five to thirty drops. It was sometimes prescribed
for sleeplessness. Dr. Moore and Dr. Harrison were
recalled, in the hope that they might be able to
furnish some information about the condition of the
water-bottle in the deceased's bedroom. Neither,
however, could throw any light upon the matter.
They searched the room for poison, but they did
not trouble about the water-bottle. Dr. Harrison
recollected that, about midnight, he himself drank
a draught of water which, to the best of his belief, he
procured from a bottle standing upon a small table.
He certainly felt no ill effects, but, whether that
bottle had originally been on the washing-stand, he
could not say. The butler brought up some brandy
and warm water for the injection on a tray. He might
have brought up some cold water as well. Mr.
Brooks, Mrs. Bravo's solicitor, stated that he drew
up the settlement. Mrs. Bravo's fortune-$40,000
left her by her first husband and £20,000 settled on
her by her father—was settled on herself. She also
instructed him to include in the settlement her
furniture, horses, carriages and lease of The Priory.
The deceased, however, was very angry on hearing
of her decision on this last point. He should break
off the marriage, he declared, rather than place him-
self in the position of having to sit at a table or upon
a chair which did not belong to him. Mrs. Bravo,


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
was
in face of his attitude, cancelled her first instructions
and her goods and chattels were, consequently, left
outside the general settlement. He offered the
deceased his congratulations when, on November
15th, he for the first time came to his office. The
reply which he received was “ Damn your con-
gratulations ; I only want the money.” The witness
was so disagreeably impressed by his behaviour that
when he again called he would not see him and
referred him to one of his partners. In reply to Mr.
Lewis, he admitted that, on that occasion, the
deceased, who did not employ a solicitor, appeared
to be in a hurry. Possibly, he only meant to convey
that he came for business, not to receive congratula-
tions. “ It is not usual for persons in our branch of
the profession to give congratulations.”
Dr. Gully was the last witness to be called at this
long drawn-out inquiry. As he had recently been
ill, he was allowed, like the female witnesses, to
remain seated, while giving his evidence-a conces-
sion against which some of the audience and certain
members of the jury openly protested. He was not,
however, intimidated by the hostile atmosphere in
which he found himself, but replied frankly and
clearly to all the questions put to him. After saying
that it was entirely at his own wish that he was there
to be examined, he admitted, in reply to Sergeant
Parry, that Mrs. Bravo's statement about their
former intimacy was “ too true, too true.” He felt
his position bitterly in having to acknowledge it. He
had heard of “the rumours and suspicions which
have been aroused and I now declare upon my solemn


THE BRAVO MYSTERY 85
oath that I had nothing whatever to do, directly or
indirectly, with the death of Mr. Charles Bravo."
Since her marriage he had had no communication
whatever with Mrs. Bravo. From that time, until
the beginning of March, he was away from Balham,
on a series of visits. After his return, he saw Mrs.
Cox on five different occasions. The first four of
these interviews were quite accidental, three took
place at the railway station. Hearing from her that
Mrs. Bravo was suffering from sleeplessness and
knowing that “ she was driven frantic by ordinary
opiates " he bethought him of laurel-water. Mrs.
Cox had told him that she was going to her house in
Lancaster Road, and, as he was himself going that
way to see his son who lived in Queensborough
Terrace, he left the bottle for her. He gave his
name at the door with a message that the bottle came
from him. It was in precisely the same state as
when he received it. “ I had no tartar emetic to
place in that bottle and any suggestion that I did so,
from whatever quarter it may have come, is a
wicked and infamous falsehood.” In answer to Mr.
Lewis, the witness said that, when he prescribed the
sitz baths, he was not aware that Mrs. Bravo had had
a miscarriage. It was not with the idea of keeping
the matter a secret that “ he took the bottle of laurel-
water to Mrs. Cox's house." He did not send it to
The Priory, because “ I regarded all communication
with that place as forbidden to me." When he saw
Mrs. Bravo, Mrs. Ricardo as she then was, at the
Lower Lodge she said, “I have told my future
husband all that has occurred between us,” and he


86
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
answered, “ I hope that will turn out well.” The
first definite news of her engagement was conveyed
to him by Mrs. Cox in a short note either on the
9th, 10th, or 11th of November. He had heard,
however, at Brighton that Mr. Charles Bravo “ was
approaching her.” Mr. Lewis now proceeded to
question him about his early intimacy with Mrs.
Ricardo, in spite of Sergeant Parry's protests against
this “ kind of moral torture," a remark which was
greeted by the audience with applause mingled with
hisses. No misconduct, the witness declared, had
taken place between them at Malvern, while Captain
Ricardo was still alive. On the occasions on which
he had met Mrs. Cox, after the marriage, she had
never suggested to him that it would be well were he
to leave Balham. Nor did she ever say that the
deceased was jealous of him. On the contrary, she
always led him to believe that "he was getting on
very well” with his wife. He had never seen the
deceased and he was not aware that the deceased had
ever seen him.
At the conclusion of Dr. Gully's evidence, the
proceedings were adjourned for a day to enable the
Coroner and his Assessor to prepare their summing
up to the jury. Of that charge which was delivered,
on August 12th, when the Court met for the last
time, it is unnecessary to say more than it was a
mere recapitulation of the depositions. Mr. Carter,
however, pointed out that “the only evidence that
antimony had been administered was that antimony
had been found in the body” and that, as regards
its administration, “ by any other person or persons,


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
there was no direct evidence bearing upon the sub-
ject.” Lastly, he warned the jury that, before they
could bring in a verdict of “murder,” they must be
satisfied that that person or those persons wilfully
administered the poison. Mere suspicion or conjec-
ture was not enough. After conferring together for
about two hours and a half, the jury returned to
Court with a verdict" that Mr. Charles Delaunay
Bravo did not commit suicide, that he did not meet
his death by misadventure; that he was wilfully
murdered by the administration of tartar emetic, but
there is not sufficient evidence to fix the guilt upon
any person or persons.”
The next day, all the papers contained articles on
the case which, according to the Standard, “ had
aroused even more intense interest than the Tich-
borne trial.” The general opinion was that the
verdict was the only one which the jury, in the
circumstances, could have returned. Necessarily,
however, the public Press, in reviewing the evidence,
was obliged to speak guardedly. But “ the man in
the street " was not so circumspect and the very
definite conclusions which he formed can be best
described by a parody of Goldsmith's well-known
lines which became very popular at the time :
“When lovely woman stoops to folly
And finds her husband in the way,
What charm can soothe her melancholy
What art can turn him into clay ?
The only means her aims to cover
And save herself from prison locks
And repossess her ancient lover
Are Burgundy and Mrs. Cox.”


88 THE BRAVO MYSTERY
Since the days when people repeated those long-
forgotten verses, nothing has transpired, either to
confirm or to refute the suspicion to which they gave
expression. No one has received the reward of
£250, offered by the Government, in consequence
of the verdict of the Coroner's jury, for “ informa-
tion leading to the discovery and conviction of the
murderer or murderers.” The persons chiefly con-
cerned in the affair have all passed away-Mrs.
Bravo herself by common report only surviving it
by little more than a year--and they have carried
with them to the grave the secret of Mr. Bravo's
death. The mystery which the best legal brains of
forty-seven years ago could not unravel is still to-day
as insoluble as ever. Nevertheless, it is now per-
missible to discuss it with a freedom which was
impossible at an earlier date, and no study of the
case would be complete which did not attempt
to show whether there were justification for the
suspicions cast upon Mrs. Bravo, Mrs. Cox and,
in a lesser degree, upon Dr. Gully, by the very
significantly worded verdict of the jury.
Mr. Bravo's death can be explained by one of two
theories only. Either he took tartar emetic deliber-
ately, for the purpose of killing himself, or it was
wilfully and maliciously administered to him by
some other person. The possibility that he swallowed
it by misadventure can be dismissed at once. Large
doses of antimony are not left lying about accident-
ally. Nor can they find their way accidentally into
either food or drink. But these are not the only
fundamental considerations which must be kept in


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
mind. Had he wished to poison himself, it is in-
conceivable that an educated man such as Mr.
Bravo, a barrister who had made a special study of
forensic medicine, could have selected antimony for
the purpose. It is a drug notoriously wayward in its
effects and death brought about by its agency would
almost certainly be preceded by intense physical
suffering. And as regards the alternative that he was
murdered, the alternative adopted by the jury, it
was made perfectly clear that the servants liked him
and it is almost preposterous to suppose that any
one of them had any reason for wishing to do away
with him. Yet the murderer must have been a
member of the household at The Priory and, if none
of the servants were guilty, who but either Mrs.
Bravo herself or Mrs. Cox could have committed
the crime ?
From the moment of her husband's illness, Mrs.
Bravo's behaviour bore all the appearance of inno-
cence. Unlike other persons who have been strongly
suspected of administering poison she made no
attempt to keep away the doctors or the sick man's
relations and, more important still, no charge of
procuring a noxious drug, under some palpably
false pretext, can be made against her. On the
contrary, on the fatal night, directly she was aroused
from sleep and realized the situation, she insisted
that Dr. Moore, the Balham practitioner, must be
summoned, because he lived so near at hand,
although she was told that Dr. Harrison of Streat-
ham had been sent for already. Moreover, she at
once assented to Dr. Harrison's suggestion that


90
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
further medical assistance should be invoked and,
finally, on her own initiative, she called in Sir
William Gull, the most famous physician of his time.
Meanwhile, neither the doctors nor the relations,
nor the servants, who saw her in the sick-room,
perceived anything which made them think that her
grief and her anxiety were not perfectly genuine.
Alone Mr. Joseph Bravo spoke of her " as not much
grieved in any way,” while Dr. Johnson acknow-
ledged that, in one instance, when he inadvertently
mentioned that her husband had admitted taking
poison, he was disagreeably impressed by her com-
posure and lack of surprise. Lastly, as regards the
essential point, the question of the poison itself,
not a shred of evidence was forthcoming that she had
tartar emetic in her possession, and that remark
applies equally to Mrs. Cox and Dr. Gully.
That Mrs. Bravo, in the first instance, should
speak of a “coppery” saucepan or the riding mis-
adventure as the probable cause of her husband's
illness is perfectly natural. But the matter assumes
a different complexion, when she continued to hold
the same language, after Dr. Johnson had said in her
presence that he was undoubtedly suffering from
poison and had admitted that he had taken it. Is it
possible to believe her story that she did not realize
the full import of his words ? On the other hand,
later on she seems to have been unduly eager to
ascribe her husband's death to suicide.1 But more
1 v. p. 47. The letter of May 6th, 1876, is in this respect very
important. It is to be found in Balham Mystery, p. 9, and D. T.,
July 12th, 1876.


THE BRAVO MYSTERY 91
suspicious still is the consistent support which she
gave to Mrs. Cox's statements. For the more closely
that lady's conduct is examined the more difficult
it becomes to place an innocent interpretation upon
it. Even before Mr. Bravo's illness, her proceedings
are open to severe stricture. On several occasions,
she met and conversed with Dr. Gully. On his part
these interviews were certainly accidental, whether
they were equally so on hers is open to doubt. Now,
according to Mrs. Cox's own story, that gentleman's
former relations with Mrs. Bravo were a constant
source of discord between her and her husband. In
such circumstances Mrs. Cox had been surely well
advised had she confined her remarks to common-
place topics. Yet it had been excusable had she
merely let drop a hint that, by leaving the neighbour-
hood, he would promote the happiness of the newly
married couple. In point of fact, however, she acted
very differently. Not content with talking to him
about Mrs. Bravo's health she actually invited him
to prescribe for her. Was she naturally a mischiev-
ous woman or had she some secret motive for desiring
to revive his interest in his former mistress ?
Mrs. Cox was clearly a woman who had had
experience of sick-rooms and knew how to act in a
case of sudden illness. Too great importance should
not, perhaps, be attached to the fact that she sent to
Streatham for Dr. Harrison, although Dr. Moore
was living only a few hundred yards away in Balham.
But, when it is remembered that, according to her
own statement, she had learnt from Mr. Bravo
himself the cause of his illness, it is certainly very


92
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
strange that she should not have warned the doctor
that his services were required for a case of poisoning.
Surely, even the most ignorant person must have
realized how necessary it was that he should come
provided with a stomach pump or other means of
dealing with an emergency of that kind. And in a
house like The Priory there was certainly no defici-
ency of basins. Yet she gave as her reason for
ordering the vomited matter to be thrown away that
she wished to have a clean basin at hand, in case
the sick man should again need to use it. It is not,
however, by such proceedings, significant as some of
them are, that Mrs. Cox should be judged, but by
her statement that, when she first went into Mr.
Bravo's room, he said to her, “ I have taken poison,
for Gully; don't tell Florence."
Mrs. Cox, it must never be forgotten, only de-
scribed this incident in its entirety in the latter
stages of the case. Her much-debated story de-
veloped gradually and wears a suspicious appear-
ance of having been made to meet the different
exigencies of the situation, as they arose. Thus, she
said nothing, for at least four hours, while Dr.
Moore and Dr. Harrison were vainly endeavouring
to ascertain the cause of Mr. Bravo's mysterious
illness. It was only after the arrival of Mr. Royes
Bell and Dr. Johnson, that she disclosed, omitting
the words " for Gully," what he had revealed to
her. By that time, he had begun to vomit and to
pass blood and the doctors were, consequently,
almost certain that he had absorbed some irritant
poison. Mrs. Cox, who was “in and out of the sick-


THE BRAVO MYSTERY 93
room ” all night, undoubtedly knew this, and her
action suggests that she hoped to put a stop to
inquiries and awkward questions by telling a story
which would account for the dying man's condition.
The doctors were of opinion that he had only a
short time to live and there was little fear, therefore,
that he would ever be in a state to be confronted
with her. At the Treasury, on June 2nd, she
amplified her first statement by adding to it the
words “ for Gully.” Matters were then growing
very serious. Public interest was aroused, the
theory of suicide was discredited and people every-
where were saying that it was a case of murder.
Without question, her conduct suggests that, when
she thus brought in the name of Dr. Gully, she did
so for the purpose of showing not only that Mr.
Bravo took his own life, but that he had a reason for
committing suicide. Her story reached its final
development at the inquest, when she asserted that
Mr. Bravo, on the second day of his illness, re-
proached her for “ telling them ” and inquired
whether “ Florence knew” that he had poisoned
himself? Up to that moment, she had never, she
admitted, mentioned this last incident to anyone.
She did not inform the doctors of what the deceased
had said because she thought that he did not wish
me to.” 1
The jury, by returning a verdict in which they
specifically declared that the deceased had not com-
mitted suicide, undoubtedly meant to convey that
in their opinion Mrs. Cox had sworn falsely. And
1 o. p. 72.


94
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
the more carefully her statement is considered the
more impossible does it become to attach any cred-
ence to it. According to her, Mr. Bravo was, above
all things, anxious that the fact that he had taken
poison should not be revealed to his wife. Yet only
two minutes earlier, he was shouting loudly, “ Flor-
ence, Florence, hot water.” Was that the act of a
man who desired to conceal from his wife that he
had deliberately swallowed poison? And, if that were
his wish, is it conceivable that he would have
entrusted this secret to her devoted companion and
confidant ? For what possible reason should he
admit taking poison to Mrs. Cox, and yet solemnly
deny it, when adjured to speak the truth by the
doctors and his lifelong friend, Mr. Bell? Without
doubt the unfortunate man received the news that
he was dying of poison with a calmness and a lack
of concern which is somewhat remarkable. In that
respect, his behaviour made a considerable impression
upon Sir William Gull and, apparently, inclined him
to adopt the theory of suicide. But his indifference
is not so astonishing when it is remembered that he
was under the depressing influence of antimony and
that, in the words of Dr. Johnson, his condition was
that of a man “suffering all the horrors of sea-
sickness with the addition of the torturing effects of
an irritant poison upon his stomach.”
A further question must now be considered. If
it be untrue that Mr. Bravo confided to Mrs. Cox
that he had poisoned himself, is the story of his
jealousy, as she and Mrs. Bravo told it, equally un-
true ? From Mrs. Bravo's letter to him, of October


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
95
21st, 1875, 1 and from his subsequent conversation
with her mother, it is clear that Mrs. Bravo did
know, when he married her, that she had had an
“ attachment ” to Dr. Gully. According to Mrs.
Bravo, after she had told him “everything,” and he,
notwithstanding, still desired to marry her, they made
a compact that neither of them would ever utter
Dr. Gully's name. But this promise he never kept.
“Morning, noon and night,” he reverted to him,
abusing him and reproaching her for her former
connection with him. They had other subjects of
dispute. Instigated by his mother, he was always
seeking to reduce their household expenditure and,
in addition, he greatly disliked her fondness for
sherry. Their quarrels about such matters were
sometimes violent; indeed, on one occasion, he actu-
ally struck her, but it was his retrospective jealousy
of Dr. Gully which was at the bottom of all their
troubles. Mrs. Cox, who, if she can be believed,
was the confident of both husband and wife deposed
to the same effect.
Yet in spite of these scenes, none of the servants
at The Priory seem to have had a suspicion that all
was not well between their master and mistress and
none of them had ever heard the name of Dr. Gully
mentioned. Mr. Bravo, senior, had no reason to
think that his stepson suffered from jealousy or was
not perfectly happy. Relations and guests at The
Priory, who saw the married couple together, carried
away the impression that the ménage was most
united and contented. Mr. Bravo's barrister-
1 D.T., July 19th, 1876. Balham Mystery, p. 15.


96
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
friends all regarded him as a very fortunate and
happily married man. “He recommended me,"
related Mr. Willoughby,“ to get married.” All the
letters which he wrote to his wife during their short
married life were produced and no allusion to Dr.
Gully is to be found in any of them. Mrs. Bravo, it
is true, was able to point to a passage, in which he
said something to the effect that he would be glad
were he never again to see The Priory He wrote
this, she explained, because Dr. Gully lived in the
neighbourhood. That may be the correct interpreta-
tion of his words, but it is, on the whole, more prob-
able that he meant to convey that The Priory was
too expensive a residence and that he disliked it, on
that account. Nothing, however, is so suggestive
of the untruth of the two women's accounts of his
sentiments and general behaviour than a letter which
he wrote to his mother, on Good Friday. On that
day, according to Mrs. Bravo, he flew into a great
passion because, being still an invalid, she wanted
to rest after luncheon. Mrs. Cox told the same
story, adding that his anger endured until the
following morning, when she contrived to pacify
him. In his fury he uttered, she declared, all kinds
of threats and talked of leaving his wife for ever,
exclaiming, “ Let her go back to Gully." Yet Mr.
Bravo, writing on the very day on which he is sup-
posed to have acted in this unreasonable manner,
says, after some humorous allusions to the laying
capacities of the hens at The Priory, “ Florence is
better but very cross. ... She has finished a pair
of slippers for me in a rage and is now slanging me


98
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
future.1 Is it conceivable that this same man can
ever have suffered so acutely from retrospective
jealousy that he was driven to put an end to his
existence ?
The evidence showed almost conclusively that
Mr. Bravo either swallowed the fatal dose in his
Burgundy or in the water which, there were grounds
for thinking, he habitually took in his bedroom
before going to bed. On that particular night, no
coffee was served after dinner and there was no reason
to suppose that, after leaving the dining-room and
before going upstairs, he drank anything whatever.
Unfortunately, the butler was unable to say what
became of the wine which Mr. Bravo left unfinished.
This not unnaturally raised a suspicion that the
guilty party might have removed it from the dining-
room after dinner. Be that as it may, there was no
evidence of any suspicious proceedings of that kind
on the part of either of the two ladies. It appears
to have been the practice of the butler to decant the
wine and place it upon the table, about half an hour
or twenty minutes before dinner. Assuming that
she had the poison in her possession, there was
nothing to prevent Mrs. Bravo, before she went
upstairs to dress, from introducing a dose of it into
the wine which her husband would probably drink.
Obviously, however, it must have been a very
dangerous undertaking. Mrs. Cox had been all
day at Worthing, and only reached The Priory about
ten minutes before the hour fixed for dinner. In
these circumstances, it is scarcely conceivable that,
1 v. p. 76.


100
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
part, of her first widowhood. At the same time,
however, it was no less conclusively proved that, in
the autumn of 1875, she summarily and uncere-
moniously dismissed him, for no other reason,
apparently, than that she had grown weary of an
equivocal position. And not a tittle of evidence
could be produced to show that, after her marriage,
she ever sought to renew her relations with him.
Once, and once only, did she hold any communica-
tion with her former lover. She invoked his assist-
ance when her husband lay at the point of death and
his medical attendants could hold out no hopes of
saving him. There was no concealment about the
matter, Mrs. Cox, who carried the message, present-
ing herself at his door like an ordinary visitor. Their
former relations, explained Mrs. Bravo, never
entered into the question. She simply regarded
Dr. Gully as the cleverest doctor “ in the world,”
and what more natural than that at such a crisis she
should seek to obtain his opinion ? And that is all
that can be said about the incident. No great
importance should, seemingly, be attached to it.
Her conduct in the matter is obviously consistent
with her complete innocence. Nevertheless, if she
were guilty, she may well have calculated that to act
as she did might, some day, allay suspicion.
In spite of her protestations to the contrary, it
may be regarded as certain that Mr. Bravo fully
intended to dispense with Mrs. Cox's services, and
he was not a man to be easily turned from his
purpose. In these circumstances, Mrs. Cox, who
10. p.71.


THE BRAVO MYSTERY 101
naturally did not wish to lose her comfortable home,
had much to gain by his death. Yet it is very diffi-
cult to believe that he was poisoned on that account.
It is hardly conceivable that for such a reason Mrs.
Bravo can have been a party to her husband's
murder. For it is impossible to dissociate the two
women. In all matters connected with Mr. Bravo's
death they told the same story and maintained the
same attitude, while, for a fortnight before the fatal
event, they actually shared the same bed. If one be
guilty the other cannot be innocent and, without
question, some of their proceedings are terribly
suspicious. Nevertheless, after a prolonged inquiry
into their private affairs, nothing was discovered
which can be regarded as an intelligible motive for
so horrible a crime. It is incredible that Mrs. Bravo
can have killed her husband in order to return to
" the ancient lover” whom she had discarded a
few months before. Nor is it reasonable to suppose
that she can have countenanced his murder, simply
because he wished to send away Mrs. Cox. And
counsel for the Treasury could suggest no other
motive. Was there a secret in the lives of these
people which the investigations failed to discover ?
The question opens up a wide field of conjecture and
the best answer to it would seem to be the remark
of a famous judge, in reference to another case of
poisoning. “It is sometimes said,” wrote Sir James
Fitzjames Stephen, “ that there is no need to look
further for a motive when the parties are man and
wife. . . . Married people usually treat each other
with external decency, good humour and cordiality,


102
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
but what lies under the veil is known only to them-
selves, and the relation may produce hatred, bitter
in proportion to the intimacy which it involves.” 1
Notwithstanding his straighforward evidence and
his complete refutation of the insinuations made
against him, public opinion has been very severe on
Dr. Gully. Having pleaded guilty to the grave
professional offence of embarking upon an intrigue
with a woman who was his patient, he had to submit
to see his name removed from all the medical
societies of which he was a distinguished member.
Nor was this the only consequence which the
revelations at the inquest entailed. Henceforward,
he was to figure in the popular imagination as the
wicked old doctor, who, if he did not actually con-
trive, most certainly connived at, a monstrous crime.
Yet nothing can be more unjust. No fact emerged
more clearly from the inquiry than that his liaison
with Mrs. Bravo came to an abrupt end at Brighton,
in October, 1875. And, once broken off, neither of
them showed the smallest inclination to renew the
connection. In the first instance, Dr. Gully, un-
doubtedly, displayed some irritation at the summary
manner in which his mistress dismissed him, not-
withstanding that he had given up his practice and
devoted the past five-years to her service. But all
the available evidence seems to indicate that, on
cooler reflection, he came to the conclusion that he
had no cause to regret her decision. He was sixty-
seven years of age and his relations with Mrs. Bravo
must have entailed many worries and troubles. In
i Sir J. Stephen. History of the Criminal Law, III, p. 441.


THE BRAVO MYSTERY
103
addition to her immoderate liking for sherry, she
was certainly very selfish and, not improbably,
exacting. “ They often quarrelled,” deposed Prit-
chard, his old butler, who was clearly of opinion
that his master was well rid of the lady. Everything
points to the truth of the account which Dr. Gully
and Mrs. Bravo gave of their last interview, at the
coachman's lodge, at The Priory. It will be remem-
bered that, on that occasion, he advised her not to
break off the marriage, but to accept Mr. Bravo's
conditions about the settlement. “ So in fact,”
commented Mr. Gorst,“ it was Dr. Gully who made
the match at last.” The remark was ironical, yet it
may not have been so far from the truth as counsel
wished to imply.
Without being guilty of gross incivility, Dr.
Gully could not refuse Mrs. Cox's request to him to
prescribe for Mrs. Bravo. Thus he was induced to
send the bottle of laurel-water to her house in
Lancaster Road. It was an unfortunate step,
because it made an innocent transaction assume a
clandestine appearance. For his explanation of why
he addressed it to her in London, instead of directing
it to her at The Priory, appears to be perfectly
satisfactory. In any event, it is beyond the bounds
of possibility that the dose of tartar emetic which
killed Mr. Bravo can have been in the half-ounce
bottle which Dr. Gully left at Mrs. Cox's hall door
in Bayswater. Without doubt, Dr. Gully committed
an error of judgment in staying at Balham, after
Mrs. Bravo's marriage. But there are no grounds
1 v. p. 82.


104
THE BRAVO MYSTERY
whatever for supposing that he decided to remain
in the neighbourhood with the idea of reopening
communications with her. It is probable that he
simply did not attach much importance to the
matter and did not wish to be at the trouble and
expense of moving. He was an old man and, to use
his own words, had “ only eighteen months before
furnished my house from top to bottom.” It was
a mistake for all that and one for which he was
destined to pay dearly.
Whether Mrs. Bravo be regarded as a guilty, or
as a cruelly maligned, woman she must be admitted
to have brought singular ill-luck to the three men
with whom she was associated. At the age of twenty-
eight Captain Ricardo died abroad, under very
unhappy conditions. Almost exactly five years
later, when he had been married to her for hardly
more than four months, her second husband was
poisoned mysteriously, while, by reason of his
former connection with her, Dr. Gully ended his
days, not only in professional disgrace, but under
the shadow of an unjust suspicion.


THE NORTHUMBERLAND STREET
TRAGEDY
N the last sixty years, the neighbourhood of
Charing Cross has undergone great changes.
In 1861, the Thames Embankment had not yet
been laid out, nor had Northumberland House
and its gardens yet been destroyed to make room for
Northumberland Avenue. Hungerford Market still
occupied the site upon which Charing Cross Station
now stands, while the river, where it is crossed to-
day by the railway, was then spanned by a suspen-
sion bridge known as Hungerford Bridge. A pier
or landing-stage abutted upon it at which the penny
steamboats stopped to take up and set down passen-
gers. Northumberland Street, which now runs from
the Strand into Northumberland Avenue, at that
time ran directly to the river parallel with Craven
Street, with which it was connected by a passage,
leading into Hungerford Market. This passage,
called Craven Passage, still exists, although widened
and altered in other respects of late years. Northum-
berland Street itself, in 1861, had already ceased to
be a residential street, most of the houses being
divided off into business chambers and offices. This
was especially the case with No. 16, which was
styled Northumberland Chambers. It was a dingy,
old-fashioned building with high narrow windows
105


106 NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY
standing upon the east side of the street, between
the passage into Hungerford Market and Craven
Wharf.
Between 11.30 and 12 o'clock on the morning of
Friday, July 12th, 1861, several of the inhabitants of
this house, No. 16 Northumberland Street, heard
two pistol shots. But the reports which followed one
another at an interval of about five minutes excited
no alarm, it being the habit of Mr. Roberts, a money-
lending solicitor, who occupied the first floor cham-
bers, to divert his leisure by practising with a pistol.
Strange to say nobody seems to have objected to this
form of amusement which had been going on
intermittently for the last month at least. Thus Mr.
Preston-Lumb, a civil engineer, whose offices were
on the second floor, heard both shots, but in the
circumstances paid no attention to them. Soon after
the second one, however, a very unusual sound
seemed to proceed from the floor below. He after-
wards described it as the noise which might be
expected to be caused by some very heavy instru-
ment striking a mattress or other soft substance.”
He had never heard anything of the kind before, “it
was a dead, dull noise, yet loud, like some one beating
a soft substance very heavily.” It was unaccom-
panied, however, by any cries or sounds of scuffling
and it never entered his mind that a life and death
struggle was going on in the rooms beneath him.
Mr. Clay, who described himself as the manager
of the Catalonian Cork-Cutting Company, had often
to go to No. 16 Northumberland Street on business
1 It has now been demolished.


NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY 107
and on this particular morning was, for some reason
or another, in the back-yard when the two shots
were fired. But being well acquainted with Mr.
Roberts's unprofessional habit of practising with a
pistol, he was no more disturbed by the sound than
was Mr. Preston-Lumb. Some five or six minutes
after the second shot, however, the back window on
the first-floor was thrown up and a gentleman, his
face covered with blood and having in his hands an
umbrella and a pair of tongs, put his foot on to the
sill, as though he were about to jump into the yard.
“For God's sake, what is the matter ? ” cried Clay.
“ Murder has been done,” said the wounded man.
Mr. Clay, promising at once to go to his assistance,
begged him not to think of escaping by the window
under which was an area surmounted by iron railings.
Then, having sent one of his men for the police, he
entered the house from the back and ran up to the
first-floor landing. Finding that both the doors
leading into Mr. Robert's chambers were locked and
that his efforts to force them were ineffectual, he
mounted to the second floor, where he gave the
alarm. At that moment, he heard a sound of glass
breaking and saw that the injured gentleman had
successfully leaped into the yard and, shaking off a
workman who sought to detain him, had climbed over
the wall into the next house.
Miss Mary Lines, a dressmaker, whose rooms
were at the back of No. 15, took no notice of the two
reports of the pistol to which, owing to their fre-
quency during the past fortnight, she had grown
accustomed. A few minutes later, however, she


108 NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY
heard the sound of men's voices raised in anger
followed by a crash of broken glass and saw a man
covered with blood, after a short struggle with
another who tried to impede his progress, “ clamber
over the wall ” into the back premises of No. 15.
The man ran across the yard leaving a track of blood
behind him and disappeared from view through a
door which opened into the passage leading to Craven
Street.
The word “ Murder !” had gone forth and already
a crowd was collecting in Northumberland Street.
The first persons to arrive opposite No. 16 had
scarcely reached the spot, before they saw a hatless
and blood-stained man emerge into the street from
Craven Passage. To those who pressed round him
he cried out that an inhabitant of No. 16 had tried
to murder him. Perhaps he has escaped suggested
some one ? "No," said the man, “ I have served
him out too much for this for him to escape.”
Meanwhile Mr. Preston-Lumb and a Mr. Ransom,
who also occupied chambers at No. 16, had reached
the street door. On his way downstairs, Mr. Lumb
met young Mr. Roberts on the landing outside his
father's offices. “Oh, Mr. Lumb," exclaimed the
young man, “ some one has been and murdered
Father !” At the door, Mr. Ransom saw a gentle-
man, bleeding profusely from a wound in his neck,
standing in the midst of a group of persons. He was
plainly somewhat light-headed for, when he ad-
dressed him, he replied by asking for his umbrella
that he might get away to his office.“ But you are
badly wounded,” said Mr. Ransom. “Am I?"


NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY 109
was the reply. “Indeed, you are fearfully wounded,"
repeated Ransom. “It's that d- fellow Grey,
upstairs,” said the injured man. Mr. Ransom
assured him that nobody called Grey lived at No.
16. But, if he meant the person with whom he had
seen him enter the house about half an hour ago, his
name was Roberts. “He told me,” said the gentle-
man, “ that his name was Grey.”
Mr. Ransom had no diculffity in persuading the
wounded man of the necessity of seeking medical
assistance. Accordingly, followed by a crowd of
curious spectators, they first visited a neighbouring
chemist and then proceeded to Charing Cross
Hospital. Before this, several policemen had arrived
in Northumberland Street. To each one of them,
as soon as he saw him, the wounded stranger called
out that some person on the first-floor of No. 16 had
sought to murder him and, speaking with the
assurance of a man accustomed to give orders, bade
the officer “ go there and take him into custody."
The symptoms of light-headedness which he had
at first displayed had now completely disappeared
With the utmost coolness, as they walked along
together, he gave Mr. Ransom a lucid account of the
events of the morning. His name, he said, was
Murray-Major William Murray, late of the roth
Hussars. That morning, having been in the City
on business he took, for the purpose of returning to
the West End, the penny steamboat at London
Bridge. After landing at Hungerford Bridge, he
was proceeding through Hungerford Market towards
the Strand when he was accosted by a stranger who,


110 NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY
after asking him whether he was Major Murray, a
director of the Grosvenor Hotel Company, began to
talk to him about a financial matter and, finally,
invited him to step round the corner to his office in
Northumberland Street. He had previously in-
formed him that he was a solicitor of the name of
Grey.
Murray complied and allowed himself to be con-
ducted to the chambers at No. 16, where the two of
them sat down at a table and continued the conversa-
tion begun in Hungerford Market. Presently, the
so-called Grey, on the pretext that he desired to
look for some document, left his seat and passing
behind him fired a pistol into the back of his neck.
The impact of the bullet caused him to fall from his
chair. But, although paralysed and unable to stir
hand or foot, he retained full possession of his
senses. After lying on the floor in this condition for
two or three minutes, he began to recover his power
of movement. Scarcely had he raised himself on
to his elbow, however, before his assailant, who had
momentarily left the room, returned and, seeing that
he was still alive, placed the muzzle of a pistol
against his head and fired a second shot into him.
The blood poured over his face, but in other
respects this fresh wound appeared to afford him
actual relief. Grey, however, was stooping over him
watching to see whether life were extinct, and he
judged it prudent to pretend that he was dead. This
stratagem succeeded. His would-be murderer, after
observing him closely for a minute or two, rose up
and turned his back upon him. He, thereupon,


22
SA

HUNGERFORD BRIDGE FROM SAVOY WHARF IN 1861





NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY III
sprang to his feet and fell upon him with a pair of
tongs which he had seized from the fender. A fierce
struggle ensued, in the course of which he used not
only the tongs but a bottle and, indeed, anything which
came to his hand. Having at last succeeded in over-
powering his antagonist and in reducing him to
impotence, he threw up the window, shouted for
help, and, jumping down into the yard, escaped
into the street. On no previous occasion, and on
that point he was most positive, had he ever seen
the man Roberts, who called himself Grey, nor
could he suggest any reason why he should have
inveigled him into his rooms and have attempted to
murder him. By the time this story was concluded,
they had reached Charing Cross Hospital, where Mr.
Skegg, the house surgeon on duty, examined the
Major and, pronouncing him to be dangerously
wounded, directed that he should be immediately
put to bed.
While Major Murray was being conducted to
hospital, the police had been endeavouring to gain
admittance to Mr. Robert's chambers. Both doors
on the landing, however, were so strong and so
securely fastened that they had to abandon the idea
of forcing them. Another door which communi-
cated with young Mr. Roberts's office in the next
house, No. 17, was also locked and resisted all their
efforts to open it. In these circumstances, they
procured a ladder and, setting it up in the yard,
effected an entrance into the backroom through the.
window from which Major Murray had let himself
down. Traces of his passage were discernible in


112 NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY
bloody finger marks both upon the window-sill and
upon a wooden water-pipe which ran beneath it. The
first officers who penetrated into the room found it
in a state of indescribable disorder. Blood was
upon the floor and the walls were plentifully be-
sprinkled with it, while there was scarcely an article
of furniture which was not overturned and broken.
But nothing was to be seen of Major Murray's
assailant or opponent, for it was still impossible to
say which designation should be applied to him.
The folding-doors, however, which divided the
front from the back room were unlocked, and when
the officers pushed them open they saw a man
huddled up against the wall, half-sitting and half-
lying down, with his hand upon the handle of the
door communicating with young Mr. Robert's office.
He was terribly injured about the head and face, and
when they raised him up and placed him in a chair
he only begged them to let him “ sit down and die."
In answer to their inquiries as to who had treated
him in this fashion, he muttered something to the
effect that “the man who went downstairs did it.”
Meanwhile, the doors on to the landing having been
opened, he was recognized as Mr. Roberts, the bill-
discounter, the occupier of the chambers. He
appeared to be in a dying condition and was immedi-
ately conveyed to Charing Cross Hospital.
After Mr. Roberts's removal, the police proceeded
to make a thorough examination of the premises.
They consisted of two apartments—a large drawing-
room, the three windows of which faced Northum-
berland Street and, divided from it by folding-doors,


NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY 113
a rather smaller room looking on to the back yard.
Both were extremely well furnished in the style
which became the fashion under Louis Philippe.
Ranged about the front room were ormolu tables
and boule cabinets on most of which were statuettes
and other ornaments under glass cases, while on the
walls were brackets and water-colour drawings. But
all these articles, the cabinets, the glass shades, the
picture frames were encrusted with the dust and
dirt of years, Mr. Roberts employing no one to keep
the place clean. Indeed, in his absence nobody, not
even his son, could obtain access to the premises.
In the drawing-room, in front of the marble mantel-
piece—which from its damaged appearance seemed
to have served as a target for his pistol practice-was
a great heap of torn and crumpled papers extending
almost into the middle of the room. Like the dust
and dirt upon the furniture this mound of waste
paper had been allowed to accumulate undisturbed.
In this front room there were few if any signs of a
struggle. It was remarkable only on account of its
dirty and neglected condition. It was the back room
which bore witness to the terrible character of the
encounter of which these chambers had been the
theatre. In it, wrote the Times correspondent, “The
dust has been beaten down and the gloomy richness
of the room disturbed by the most desperate of all
contests-a contest where strong and angry men
struggle to tear and beat each other down with what-
ever weapon they can seize in their frenzy. If two
wild beasts had been turned loose to kill each other
in this appartment it could not have presented traces


114 NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY
of a more prolonged or deadly contest. The furni-
ture is overturned and broken in hideous confusion.
The walls, the gilded tables, backs of chairs and sides
of dirty inlaid cabinets are streaked and smeared
about with bloody fingers. One may almost trace
where blows were struck by the star-shaped splashes
of blood along the walls, while over the glass shades
of the ornaments and doors of the cabinets it has
fallen like rain, as if a bloody mop had been trundled
round and round.”
Hardly less horrible was the appearance of the
improvised weapons which Major Murray had used
in his desperate fight for life. In a pool of blood lay
a shattered wine-bottle, while scattered about the
room were pieces of the tongs which he had wielded
with such terrible effect, “ actually coated with flesh
and blood.” In the area were found the handle and
“the stumpy fragment " of this implement which he
had let fall as he jumped from the window. That he
successfully contrived to leap from a height of
twenty feet into a small paved yard, between two
areas protected by iron railings, was not the least
remarkable incident of this extraordinary affair.
The only dangerous injury which Murray had
sustained was the wound at the back of his neck. On
probing it, Dr. Canton had no difficulty in locating
and in extracting the bullet which had lodged
against the spine. The other wound was of a
superficial character, the bullet having merely
grazed the side of his head and his cheek. It was
clear that the two shots had been fired at very close
quarters, both the Major's hair and whiskers being


NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY 115
singed by the explosion of the powder. The removal
of the bullet afforded him great relief and, once it
was taken out, he was able to converse most ration-
ally with the various persons who were brought to
his bedside. To Inspector McKenzie he repeated,
in greater detail, the story which he had previously
told to Mr. Ransom. Among his other visitors was
young Mr. Roberts, the mention of whose name, at
first, appeared to convey nothing to him, for he
asked, “ What Roberts ? ” “ Why, the son of the
Roberts who shot you,” said Mr. Ransom, who
seems to have introduced the young man to him.
“ Why, d-- him," said the Major," he ought to
be hanged for shooting a man on the ground !”
After this not unnatural explosion of feeling, he
asked the young man whether he knew him. “No,"
was the reply.“ Did you ever hear anyone speak of
me ? ” inquired Murray. “Yes," answered the
youth, “ I have heard my father mention you.” No
more appears to have been said and the interview
was brought to an end. Later on, however, young
Mr. Roberts saw fit to tell a different story of his
previous acquaintance with the Major.
While there was every prospect that Murray
would recover completely, the condition of his
antagonist, who lay in another room in the same
building, was hopeless from the first. It was sur-
prising, wrote the Lancet in speaking of the affair,
that he should not have died on the spot, “ the
injuries inflicted on him being essentially of a mortal
nature. The anterior portion of the temporal bone
was literally smashed in, and the membranes of the


NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY 117
same evening, communicated to Major Murray by
Inspector McKenzie and Dr. Canton. The doctor,
apparently, considered it necessary to break it to him
gently. In the first instance, accordingly, he merely
said, “ A person in whom we take some interest has
gone on from bad to worse.” “ Who is that?”
asked the Major. “Mr. Roberts,” said the doctor,
and, having told him that, he proceeded to say that he
had just died. “ Died, by Jove, has he ? " exclaimed
Murray. “I have nothing to reflect on that man's
death. He was no man.” He displayed, however,
some curiosity as to whether he had seen a clergyman
and as to whether he had made a statement. “ Yes,”
replied McKenzie," he saw a clergyman and he has
made a statement.”
As may be supposed, the affair aroused the most
intense public interest. Under such headings as
“Affray in Northumberland Street,” “ Tragedy in
the Strand," " Desperate Encounter in Northumber-
land Street,” the newspapers devoted considerable
space to descriptions of Mr. Roberts's chambers
and to the latest news about the condition of the two
injured men. In strange contrast, however, to their
methods at the present time, they confined themselves
rigidly to topics of that kind and made no attempts
to furnish their readers with any particulars about
the private life of either Major Murray or Mr.
Roberts. This omission is not so surprising as
regards the last named, who was simply an obscure,
although fairly prosperous, money-lender, but it is
curious that no reputable paper appears to have
alluded to Major Murray's military career, un-


118 NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY
eventful as it appears to have been. The history of
his life, of which it may be convenient at this stage
to give some details, can be told in a few words. He
was the second son of Walter Murray, of Garland
Grove, Jamaica, his mother being a Miss Tharp, a
niece of John Tharp of Chippenham Park, New-
market. He was born on December 12th, 1819, and
on March 9th, 1838, obtained by purchase a cornetry
in the 10th Hussars. Two years later, he rose to
the rank of a lieutenant and, in 1845, accompanied
his regiment to India, where it remained until dis-
patched to the Crimea, in 1855. There is reason to
think, however, that Murray was at home at this time,
employed, not improbably, at the depot. Certain
circumstances of his private life, which will be
related later on, suggest that he cannot have been
on foreign service when war broke out. Whether he
ever went to the Crimea is doubtful. In any case,
Hart's Army List shows that he was not granted the
medal. Nevertheless, at the conclusion of the peace,
he was promoted a brevet major, by reason of the
fact, apparently, that he was by this time the senior
captain in his regiment. A few months later, how-
ever-on May ist, 1857–he exchanged into the
12th Lancers with the famous Valentine Baker and
at the end of the same year sold his commission and
retired from the Army. It is probable that he never
actually served with the 12th, it being his invariable
custom to speak of himself as “ late roth Hussars."
His exchange was, apparently, one of those arrange-
ments which were not uncommon in the days of
purchase.


NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY 119
But, if the newspapers were silent about the private
affairs and the previous history of Major Murray
and his opponent, they did their utmost to explain
how the conflict between them had originated. The
Times was of opinion that the Major's account of the
treacherous attack made upon him was true, while
utterly disbelieving his assertion that before that
fatal morning his antagonist was completely un-
known to him. “It might be accepted as a fact,” it
went on to declare, “ that the examination of the
papers in Mr. Roberts's chambers had supplied the
police with a clue which would probably lead to the
complete elucidation of the mystery." Before this,
the Daily Telegraph informed its readers that “there
was little reason to doubt that there was a lady in the
case,” and, on July 20th, it professed to be in a
position to describe the actual circumstances which
had brought the two men into collision. “In Hun-
gerford Market," so the account ran, “ Major
Murray saw a lady who has been permitted to enjoy
the use of his name greet Mr. Roberts familiarly
and accompany him to his chambers. Major Murray
having watched the pair indoors gained an entrance.
The rest seems plain. The pseudo Mrs. Murray
departed in haste and an encounter soon followed,
by whom begun it will be very hard to prove."
Stories of this kind could not but increase a thousand-
fold the public curiosity to hear the disclosures
which the inquest on Mr. Roberts was bound to
bring forth. The Spectator, without doubt, gave
expression to the very general belief, when it talked,
in an article headed “Murder,” of “ two men


120 NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY
mad with jealousy quarrelling for some letters
and proceeding to blows and then to a death
grapple.”
On Monday, July 22nd, Mr. Bedford, the Coroner
for Westminster, opened his inquiry, the Court
sitting in the board-room of Charing Cross Hospital
which, notwithstanding its size, was densely crowded
throughout the proceedings. Mr. Sleigh,- instructed
by Mr. Thomas Roberts, the brother of the deceased,
watched the case on behalf of the widow, while the
interests of Major Murray, who was not present,
were in the hands of Mr. Humphreys, his solicitor.
This first sitting of the Court was devoted exclusively
to formal evidence of identification and to the
depositions of the surgeons and of such witnesses as
Mr. Clay, Mr. Ransom and the policemen who had
been present at Northumberland Street, on the fatal
Friday. The substance of what they had to tell has
already been given and need not be repeated. It
was not until the following day, when Inspector
McKenzie was called, that anything was said which
tended to throw a light upon the causes of the affray.
After describing the condition of Mr. Roberts's
chambers, the inspector stated that he had made a
minute examination of all the papers in both rooms
without finding in any of them the slightest trace of
a correspondence between Mr. Roberts and Major
Murray. But on a sheet of white blotting-paper,
1 Sleigh, William Campbell (1818–1887). Created Sergeant-
at-Law 1868. Had a large practice at the Old Bailey. In
1860 published a work entitled Personal Wrongs and Legal
Remedies.


NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY 121
much stained with blood, he had been able to make
out the following address :
Mrs. Murray
Elm Lodge
Talbot Road
Tottenham
There were other stains and marks upon the paper
and the words “I cannot rest” and “send
by bearer.” He also found three letters from Mrs.
Murray to the deceased, two of them being in one
envelope in the waste-paper-basket. At this point
he was interrupted by Mr. Sleigh, who objected to
the reading of them. “The case,” he pleaded,“ is
already sufficiently painful without bringing other
parties into it without excuse.” He was so far
successful that the Coroner decided that the question
should stand over for the moment.
To the great disappointment of most of those
present this part of the case was not pursued any
further. In the course of the day, however, some
curious evidence was given tending to show that, on
the morning of the affray, Mr. Roberts had been at
pains to send away on some pretext or other anyone
who would be likely to interfere with his proceedings.
Richard Timms, a house painter, deposed that on
July 12th he was employed to wash down the back
of No. 16 Northumberland Street. About 12 o'clock
-- he could not fix the time exactly, but it was before
the two shots were fired—the deceased called to him
and asked him whether he would carry a message for
him. On his replying that he was willing, Mr.


122 NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY
Roberts requested him to go to the top of St. Martin's
Lane and buy a linnet. For this purpose he gave
him a shilling saying that the cost of the bird was
ninepence. He went and when he returned found
the place in possession of the police.
Young Mr. Roberts, it will be remembered, had on
the afternoon of the affray declared at Major Murray's
bedside that he had never in his life seen him before.
Nevertheless, on this second day's sitting of the
Coroner's Court, he swore, not only that he had
known him by sight for some time past, but that, in
the previous month of April, he had seen him “on
the landing going to knock at my father's door."
His father, he asserted, had often told him that he
had been out with the Major. “ In fact, Murray's
name was more often mentioned in the office than
anybody else's." He had posted letters from his
father to Mrs. Murray and had seen letters from her
addressed to his father. She had first called on his
father last October. She was in the habit of coming
“ once or twice a week.” On his oath he had never
said that he did not know Major Murray. Fortu-
nately, Mr. Ransom and several medical students
had been present at his interview with the Major
and all of them were able to swear that he had de-
clared, not once but repeatedly, that he did not know
him nor had he seen him on any previous occasion.
As soon as it was thus established that no credence
could be attached to young Roberts's statements on
this point, Dr. Canton was called and described the
nature of Major Murray's injuries. In regard to the
wound in the neck, he was satisfied that it could not


NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY 123
have been self-inflicted nor could it have been
sustained in the course of a struggle. The downward
path taken by the bullet indicated that the Major,
who was taller than his antagonist, had been shot
while he was sitting down. In short, on medical
grounds everything pointed to the truth of his
account of the affair. After hearing some evidence
that on the morning of July 12th Mr. Roberts was
loitering about near Hungerford Pier, apparently
waiting for some one, the Court adjourned.
At the resumed sitting on Thursday, July 25th,
it was evident that the public interest in the case was
keener than ever. The room was densely crowded,
while numbers of persons unable to obtain admis-
sion waited about in the street outside. As soon as
the proceedings began Mr. Preston-Lumb described
the strange noises which he had heard on the morn-
ing of the encounter—those“ dull dead sounds as
though some one were beating a soft substance very
heavily.” Inspector McKenzie was then recalled
and recounted what had passed when the Major was
told of the death of his antagonist. When his evi-
dence was concluded a thrill of expectation ran
through the audience. The moment for which most
of those present had been waiting so anxiously had
come at last. A closely veiled woman“ plainly
dressed in the ordinary walking dress of a lady of
means " had been conducted to a seat at the foot of
the table. She was very nervous and appeared to be
struggling to control her emotion. " It was painful
to look at her," wrote the Times correspondent, so
great was the distress under which she was labouring.


124 NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY
In answer to the Coroner's question, she inquired
whether she must give her real name, and when he told
her that that was necessary she said in a voice which
was almost inaudible that her name was Anne Maria
Moody. It was then intimated to her that she must
raise her veil. After a moment's hesitation she
complied, disclosing the features of a remarkably
pretty woman, apparently about twenty-five or
twenty-six years of age.
Miss Moody's evidence-most of which was
elicited in response to questions put to her by Mr.
Sleigh-was given in a very low tone. At the same
time she expressed herself very clearly, notwithstand-
ing that any mention of Major Murray's name
plainly caused her the greatest distress and that, on
one occasion, when referring to him she broke down
completely. Some seven or eight years ago, she told
the Court, she left her family to live under Major
Murray's protection and since about '55 had called
herself” Mrs. Murray.” Recently, the Major took
for her Elm Lodge, Tottenham, where she now
resided. Her acquaintance with Mr. Roberts began
three or four years ago. She went to his office, in
the first instance, to obtain a loan. The occasion
was soon after her baby was born. The Major was
most generous to her, but he had had heavy expenses
to meet and she was unwilling to ask him for money.
He always treated her “ in the most noble-hearted
manner” and his disposition was most “ amiable
and kind.” Having heard of the deceased from a
friend, she went to him and borrowed £15, for which
she gave him a bill for $20 at three months. From


NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY 125
that moment, he never ceased to force his attentions
upon her. When she was out with the Major he
would often follow them. He constantly pressed
her to leave Major Murray and to go away with him
to Scotland. She frequently went to his chambers
in Northumberland Street. But her “ visits were
never of an intimate nature in the improper sense."
At the Surrey Gardens Music Hall, when Mr.
Spurgeon was preaching, the deceased introduced
her to his wife and, on two or three occasions after-
wards, they all went together to the Crystal Palace.
She had never been able to discharge her debt to
him. All she could contrive to do was to pay the
quarterly interest, which amounted to five pounds.
He often offered to release her if she would consent
to his proposals. She never told the Major of her
relations with Mr. Roberts. Without doubt, it
would have annoyed him greatly to hear that she had
been to a money-lender. Major Murray had never
been in the deceased's company, “ Never, never."
It was most improbable that he had ever heard his
name. Although she always repulsed Mr. Roberts's
advances she dared not break with him completely.
She was afraid that he would inform the Major about
her indebtedness and make her " home unhappy."
That was the secret of the hold which he had over
her-she was fearful that he would tell the Major
and ruin her happiness.
The deceased, went on to say Miss Moody, never
expressed any animosity towards Major Murray
She remembered, however, that he had once said
that he had pistols and that he might use them if she


NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY 127
The concluding sentences, however, were more
warmly expressed.
“ I assure you,” ran the final lines of this other-
wise very commonplace production, “ that I cannot
express my heartfelt thanks for the pleasure your
note has given me. In fact, when I sat down to
write this I fancied I could have filled sheets of
paper with love to you, but somehow I now feel
that my thoughts are checked and I only want to lie
[sic] my head on your shoulder and cry tears of joy
(not unmixed with sorrow) for the many happy days
I have passed with you.
“Ever yours,
“ Anne."
The second letter was also a letter of thanks for
another present which the deceased had given her
baby. There was nothing remarkable about it.
It was the kind of letter which any young woman in
her station in life might be expected to write in
similar circumstances. It contained such sentences
as “ Oh, how pretty my pet will look in that darling
bonnet, so purely elegant,” and “ The idea of your
thinking of my little darling has quite taken me
aback.” The signature, also, was altogether differ-
ent, “ Yours truly, A. M. Murray” now took the
place of “ Ever yours, Anne ” of the first letter.
The third note was of an even more colourless
description. It began, “Mr. Roberts, Dear Sir,”
and was signed “ Yours obediently, A. M. Murray.”
It was to the effect that the writer had four seats to
view the opening of Parliament by Her Majesty,
which being more than she required she suggested


128 NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY
that some of Mr. Roberts's family should accompany
her to the ceremony. She proposed to go to his
chambers at 12 o'clock the next day “ to know the
result.”
In addition to this correspondence, the police
produced portions of the rough drafts of two letters,
clearly intended for “Mrs. Murray,” which had
been found in the waste-paper-basket in Northum-
berland Street. They were torn and certain pieces
were missing. Both were undated and neither
contained anything of much importance. In one, the
deceased spoke of “the torture of mind” he was
enduring on account of “your anger for which my
folly of Saturday ” was responsible. The other,
obviously written a few days later, was in the same
strain.
"If I am still in anger in your mind,” it ran,“ can
you forgive me? You hold my destiny and if your
anger stands then I know but one thing in life to
look to. If you will bring the olive branch, say by
2 o'clock, you will brighten that which is now
gloomy.”
When the reading of these letters was concluded,
“ Mrs. Murray ” was recalled and certain questions
were put to her by Mr. Sleigh. She wrote the first
letter, she replied, “ about two and a half years ago,
that was ten months after the deceased first made
his dishonourable proposals to me." Although she
expressed herself so affectionately she felt, at the
time, nothing but disgust for him. “ I have never
felt happy in his company nor have I ever had an
hour's enjoyment in his society. I have never been


130 NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY
morning, July 12th, I left London Bridge by the
penny boat for Hungerford Bridge. I crossed the
bridge about half-past eleven. As I was going down
the right side of the market, a man came up to me
from behind on my left and said, 'I believe I am
speaking to Major Murray.' I said, “ Yes, that's my
name.' He then said, 'I believe you are a director
of the Grosvenor Hotel Company ?' I said, 'Yes,
I am, pray who are you?' He said, “ My name is
Grey.' I asked, “How do you know me?' Grey
said, 'I have seen you at the meetings of the com-
pany.' I said, “ Are you a shareholder ?' He said,
* No, but I have attended the meetings.'”.
Some conversation then took place about a loan,
into the details of which it is unnecessary to enter.
Suffice it to say that the so-called Grey, after saying
that he was a solicitor and that one of his clients
would be prepared to lend the company £50,000,
invited Major Murray to go“ just round the corner"
to his office in Northumberland Street to discuss the
matter.
“He showed me," continued the Major, “ into a
back room on the first-floor and requested me to be
seated. I never was in the house before, most
positively never. I took a seat and he then said,
• You will excuse me for one instant,' and left the
room. I sat with my back to the folding-doors in
front of the table. On my left was the fireplace.
The folding-doors were shut when he left the room.
I took a look round and thought it was the most
extraordinary place I had ever seen-torn papers,
bottles, pictures lying about, a most disreputable-


NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY 131
looking place. In a moment or two he came back
and took a seat in front of me with a pen in his hand
and asked what interest we proposed to give. I said
I was not in a position to say, but would hear what
his client proposed to ask. He said, “Oh, then the
proposal is to come from us. I said that in any
circumstances we should not give more than five
per cent. He replied, “That will do very well. I
asked him for his card of address. He said ' Imme-
diately,' and walked round behind me and began
rummaging among some papers in a desk. Pre-
sently, I felt a slight touch at the back of my neck.
There was a report of a pistol and I dropped off the
chair on to the ground. I was perfectly paralysed,
I could not move any part of my body. My head,
however, was quite clear. I was lying with my face
to the fender and after he fired I believe that he left
the room. I soon felt returning life in my leg and
arm, and I was just raising myself on my elbow,
when I heard a door open and he came in again.
He immediately walked up behind me and fired a
pistol into my right temple. I dropped back on the
carpet and the blood gushed all over my face and
eyes and mouth in a regular torrent. He either
stooped or knelt close behind me, for I could feel
his breath and he watched close to see if I was dead.
I then made up my mind to pretend to be so. I felt
that the bleeding was bringing me back to life fast
all over my body, which was tingling to the finger-
ends. I knew if I could get on my feet I could make
a fight for it. After he had knelt behind me for some
short time, he got up and walked away, and I then


132 NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY
opened my eyes and took a look round and saw a
pair of tongs within a few inches of my head. Feel-
ing that my strength was returning to me and that
there was the whole length of the room between us,
I seized the tongs and sprang to my feet. He was
then at the window. Hearing me move, he turned
and faced me. I at once rushed at him and made
a heavy blow at him with the tongs, which missed.
I then seized them short by the middle and made a
dash into his chest and face which knocked him over
on to his back. I got my knee on to his chest and
tried to smash his head with the tongs. They
were too long and he got them in both his hands
firmly. I struggled hard for some time to get them
away, but he was as strong as I and I could not
do it. I looked round for something else to hit
him with and, close to my right hand, I saw a
large black bottle, which I caught in my right
hand and, shaking the tongs with my left to
keep him occupied, I hit him full with all my
force on the middle of the forehead and smashed it
(the bottle) to pieces. That made him quiver all
over, but still he did not let go the tongs, so I
caught hold of a metal vase and dashed it at his
head with all my might, but I missed him. Then,
as I saw there was nothing else at hand, I set to work
desperately to get the mastery of the tongs which he
was holding on to all the time. During all this time
he was on his back, close under the window, nearest
the door. After a long struggle I got the tongs. As
they came into my hand, I lost my balance and fell
back, but was up again in an instant and, by that


NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY 133
time, he was rising into a sitting position, which gave
me a fair full blow at his head with the tongs, and I
gave it him with all my might and main. I
repeated it three or four times. He hid his head
under the table to escape my blows and then I hit
him on the back of the neck and, in order to disable
his hands, I hit him hard over the wrists. I then
thought he was sufficiently disabled and tried to get
out, but the door of the room was locked. I went
through the folding-doors into the front room and
tried that way, but that door was locked too. In
coming back through the folding-doors, I met him
again face to face walking towards me. I took a
step back, in order to get a full swing, and hit him
on the head again with the tongs. He fell forward
on his face through the folding-doors as though he
were dead. I pushed his feet through the doors and
shut them and then threw up the window. I saw
two men in the yard and called to them to come to
my assistance. At the same time, I got on to the
window-sill. They told me not to get out of the
window as they would come and open the door. At
first I was inclined to believe them, but I thought
that men who could listen to pistol shots and to such
a fight as had been going on and take no notice of it
might be in league with the murderer, so I did not
like to trust them. As I heard them coming up into
the house, I looked for a way of escaping from the
window. I first tried to get down a square wooden
pipe, but found I could not do it, so I hung on to the
window-sill with my hands, got my feet on the win-
dow frame below and took my measure for a spring


134 NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY
Id
into two baskets in the yard below. I sprang into
them, clambered over the wall into the next house,
got through a passage, opened the door and went
into the street. I saw a policeman and called to
him to take charge of a man who had been murdering
me on the first floor. Some one then came up and
said I was badly wounded and that I had better go
to a surgeon. He took me to a chemist's and they
told me to go to the Hospital, so I came on here.
That is all I have to say. I have not the slightest
notion in the world why he should attack me. I
never had any communication with the man, good,
bad or indifferent. I did not even know that such a
man was in existence.”
Major Murray's statement was so clear and com-
plete that Mr. Humphreys asked him but few ques-
tions. The loss of blood from the second wound,
he said in answer to one of them, gave him positive
relief, it brought back his powers. In reply to Mr.
Sleigh, he stated that, although the man who
accosted him in Hungerford Market was a complete
stranger, it never crossed his mind that there might
be danger in accompanying him to a house in a
respectable street such as Northumberland Street.
Neither of them called out while they were fighting,
but, in the course of the struggle, his assailant
“ made use of one or two expressions.” When he
threw the metal vase at him and missed him, he
said, “ That won't do, Master William," and, while
he was hitting him on the head with the tongs he said,
“Come, come, give me fair play.” “Mrs. Murray"
was aware that his company proposed to raise a loan.


NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY 135
Mr. Sleigh then put it to him that it was strange
that, when attacked as he had described, he should
not have screamed out for help. “ I did not scream
out," was the reply," and I recommend you, sir,
if you ever have to fight for your life to fight in
silence and not to waste your breath by calling out.”
Mr. Sleigh did not pursue the subject.
Major Murray's evidence practically concluded
the inquiry. It was not even necessary for the
Coroner to sum up, the jury intimating that they
had no desire to hear any more and that they were
all agreed about their finding. Accordingly, after
listening to a short explanation of the law in regard
to a case such as the one they had been investigating,
they then and there brought in a verdict of “justifi-
able homicide,” finding that the deceased had been
killed by Major Murray who was defending his own
life. Amidst great applause the Coroner declared
that it was a verdict with which he heartily con-
curred.
“ Have any novelists of our days,” wrote
Thackeray, “ a scene and catastrophe more strange
and terrible than this, which occurs at noonday
wthin a few yards of the greatest thoroughfare in
Europe ? The brave Dumas, the intrepid Ains-
worth, the terrible Eugene Sue, the cold shudder
inspiring Woman in White never invented anything
more tremendous than this.” And that remark,
made when the affair was fresh in men's minds,
might equally be made to-day. In any of the
sensational stories which have been written since
Thackeray's time, is there to be found a situation to


136 NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY
compare with that silent death struggle, amidst the
dusty ormolu tables and boule cabinets of those
chambers in Northumberland Street ? Has any
hero of romance, in an emergency, ever displayed
greater presence of mind and determined courage
than Major Murray, when he felt “ the touch” at
the back of his neck and heard the report of the
would-be murderer's pistol ? And, in the whole
range of fiction, is there a character to equal
Mr. Roberts, the infatuated bill-discounter, for
ruthlessness and reckless disregard of conse-
quences ?
In the excellent account of this affair to be found
in the Annual Register, the theory is advanced that
Roberts did not inveigle Major Murray into his
office with the idea of murdering him. The crime,
it is suggested, was the result of “ a sudden impulse,"
it being “ more than probable that he desired to
entangle the Major in a usurer's toils and to force or
purchase from his necessities the object of his
desires." It is true that the pistol practice points to
premeditation and is a highly suspicious circum-
stance. Nevertheless, it may be that he simply
derived amusement from shooting and that he did
not indulge in it with the ulterior motive of accus-
toming his neighbours to the sound of firearms.
But, if this view of the case be considered seriously,
it will be found to be altogether untenable. Can it
have been a sudden impulse which prompted him
to despatch Richard Timms, the house painter, on
a fool's errand to the top of St. Martin's Lane ?
Let the sequence of events speak for themselves.


NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY 137
No sooner had he succeeded in inducing the Major
to enter his chambers than he sent this man away,
on the first pretext which entered his head, lest he
should interfere with his criminal intentions. It
will be remembered that in his evidence Murray
states that, after inviting him to be seated and
before they began to discuss the loan, Roberts
begged to be excused and left the room for a few
minutes. Then it was that he spoke to Timms and
gave him his commission to execute. Moreover, the
pretence on which Major Murray was brought to
Northumberland Street was that Roberts had a
client who was prepared to advance money to the
Grosvenor Hotel Company. The idea of a loan for
Major Murray's personal benefit was never mooted
and there could, therefore, be no question of seeking
“ to entangle him in a usurer's toils.”
It is probable that Miss Moody's story of her
dealings and relations with Roberts was substantially
true. At the same time it is possible, indeed, it is
more than likely, that, when she realized the power
of fascination which she exercised over him, she, in
the first instance, encouraged him to a far greater
extent than she acknowledged in her evidence.
Nevertheless, it is unlikely that her indiscretion went
further than that and she may be believed, without
doubt, when she declared that she had never
acceded to his proposals. But, at the time, the
theory of her innocence does not appear to have been
universally accepted, for the Daily Telegraph ob-
served sarcastically, “ Can Roberts rise from his
grave to say whether she was faithless to her para-


138 NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY
MO
mour ? ” Far more in accordance with probabilities,
however, was the view taken by the leader-writer of
the Times, in a remarkable article which appeared
two days after the inquest.
“ It is unnecessary," he wrote, “ to say what, or
rather who was, the one great object in Mr. Roberts's
scheme of happiness, the absence of which con-
verted all the worldly comforts and success of a
prosperous middle-aged bill-discounter into gall and
bitterness and finally precipitated him into chaos.
In this case we have the romance of uncontrollable
passion. Some people, as soon as they hear that
word, expect something great, refined and sublime,
but this is not at all necessary for romance. Mr.
Roberts's pursuit of Mrs. Murray was as coarse,
disgusting and brutal an affair as can be imagined
and yet, with the horrible death struggle in the
rooms, it is a romance, because at the bottom of the
whole lies his powerful, absorbing and uncontrollable
passion. He was under that influence which may
overcome the greatest blackguard in the world—the
influence of an overwhelming fascination. He made
no attempt to resist it. In vain was there a Mrs.
Roberts, a young Roberts, a family circle, a prosper-
ous business, all the happiness of life went for
nothing, unless a particular treasure, which we need
not specify, was possessed and Mr. Roberts was
thus converted into a perfect colossus of romance
with a will like that of a Titan. His object was not
achieved, inasmuch as he caught a Tartar in Major
Murray and the end of it all was the tragical death
of the most impassioned, enthralled, romantic,
OVO


NORTHUMBERLAND ST. TRAGEDY 139
demoniacal, atrocious and miserable of all bill-
discounters.” 1
Major Murray survived his awful experience in
Northumberland Street by more than forty-five
years, and it was not until March 28th, 1907, that he
died at the age of eighty-eight in his own home and
amidst his own family. Few of his contemporaries
still survived to recall the strange story of which he
had been the hero and most people learnt for the
first time, from the obituary notices in the papers,
the particulars of the extraordinary adventure which
had befallen the veteran officer whose death was that
day recorded.
i The Times, July 27th, 1861.


THE DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET
IN the years between the accession of George I
and that of Queen Victoria there were three
Dukes of Cumberland. The dukedom has a
somewhat unfortunate history. Sentimental
sympathy with the Highland Jacobites has caused
William Augustus, Duke of Cumberland, to be
remembered with detestation. There is nothing
pleasing to record of Henry Frederick, a foolish and
insignificant son of Frederick, Prince of Wales, upon
whom the title was conferred after the death of his
uncle, the victor of Culloden. But Ernest Augustus,
the fifth son of George III, who was created Duke of
Cumberland in 1799 was a man of a different stamp.
In his early life in the wars of the French Revolution
he proved himself a brave and capable soldier.
Nevertheless in his maturer years, although he was
intellectually greatly the superior of any of his
brothers, he was not given a high command in the
British Army. Probably his personal unpopularity
rendered it inadvisable to employ him in an impor-
tant position. Be the reason what it may, it was not
until 1837, when by the operation of the Salic Law
he became King of Hanover, that he was able to
show that he was possessed of qualities of a high
order. From his accession until his death in 1851
he ruled his Kingdom so wisely and so prudently
140


DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 141
that in 1848 it remained almost undisturbed, while
nearly every other continental state was in the throes
of a violent revolution.
“ The Duke of Cumberland,” wrote Mr. Lytton
Strachey in his recent biography of Queen Victoria,
“ was probably the most unpopular man in England.
Hideously ugly, with a distorted eye, he was bad
tempered and vindictive in private, a violent re-
actionary in politics, and was subsequently suspected
of murdering his valet and of having carried on an
amorous intrigue of an extremely scandalous kind.”
That he was unpopular and that his countenance
was displeasing admits of no dispute. Yet in fairness
to him it should be mentioned that the distortion of
the eye, which so greatly enhanced his ugliness, was
the result of a wound honourably received in action.
As regards his politics, from the year 1799, when the
Dukedom and a Peerage were conferred upon him,
he always voted in the House of Lords with the High
Tory party, over the counsels of which he is believed
to have exercised considerable influence. He was
naturally, therefore, bitterly opposed to such mea-
sures as Catholic Emancipation and Parliamentary
Reform and on that account may be described as a
reactionary. Of the two grave insinuations against
his personal character which Mr. Strachey has made,
the one is an allusion to a very unpleasant family
scandal the true circumstances of which are never
likely to be published—while the other refers to the
suspicion that he was the murderer of his Italian
valet. This last charge differs totally from the first
The death of the man in question was the subject of


142 DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET
a judicial inquiry and the matter is one which can be
discussed without intruding upon the private affairs
of the Royal Family.
In 1810, the Duke of Cumberland lodged in that
set of apartments in St. James's Palace which is
commonly, but incorrectly, spoken of as York House.
More recently these rooms have been the abode of
the Duchess of Cambridge and of their present
Majesties, the King and Queen, while to-day they
are occupied by His Royal Highness, the Prince of
Wales. The entrance to them is in Ambassadors
Court, which in 1810, however, went by the humbler
name of Kitchen Court. The Duke's bedroom,
which looked on to Cleveland Row, was on the first
floor at the extreme west end of his apartments.
Next to it was a dressing-room and a garde-robe in
which were two cupboards of considerable size,
large enough, as it afterwards proved, to enable a
man to stand upright in them. Besides the doors
into the dressing-room and the garde-robe His Royal
Highness's bedroom contained two other doors, one
of which communicated with a sitting-room, known
as the West Yellow Room, and the other with a
narrow passage leading directly to the pages' waiting-
room. The ordinary entrance to this waiting-room
was in the long gallery, facing Kitchen Court, from
which both the main and the secondary staircases
descended to the ground floor. At its eastern end
the gallery was closed by a green baize door, which
separated the Duke's lodgings from the next set of
apartments. Adjoining the waiting-room was a
small servant's bedroom, situated immediately be-


A PLAN SPART OF S:JAMESS PALACE.
CLEVELAND Bow
Ꭰ Ꭰ .
-
Eure
Kalle
Rose
Tallon Room
A.
AN
EE
KITCHEN COURT
A. DUKE'S BEDROOM
B. BED ALCOVE
C. BEDROOM OF VALET ON DUTY
D. PASSAGE FROM DUKE'S BED-
ROOM INTO PAGE'S WAITING
ROOM
DD. BALL ROOM
E. DOOR FROM DUKE'S BEDROOM
INTO WEST YELLOW ROOM
F. FIREPLACE IN DUKE'S BEDROOM
6. PLACE WHERE DUKE'S SABRE
WAS FOUND
KK MAIN STAIRCASE
LL PPPGALLERY
M. LOBBY BETWEEN SELLIS' BED.
ROOM AND STEWARD'S ROOM
N. DOOR FROM SELLIS' ROOM INTO
0. SELLIS BEDROOM (LOBBY
QQ BAIZE DOOR ACROSS GALLERY
R. LOBBY LEADING TO BALL ROOM
S. DOOR INTO BALL ROOM
T. DOOR
U. DOOR FROM SUMMER DRESSING
ROOM INTO SELLIS' ROOM
V. SELLIS' BED
w. STEWARD'S ROOM
X. DOOR OF STEWARD'S ROOM
Y. CUPBOARD IN WHICH SELLIS
WAS CONCEALED
z. GARDE ROBE
aa, STEPS LEADING DOWN TO
SELLIS' BEDROOM
bbce. REMOTEST WINDOWS IN BALL
ROOM
88. VALET'S BED
hh. DOOR FROM PAGE'S WAITING
ROOM INTO GALLERY
ii. BUREAU IN WHICH SELLIS KEPT
HIS RAZORS
N.B - The sinyle dotted line represents course taken by Sellis in his flight; the double dorted line that of the Duke and Neale when they went to arouse
the hall.porter.





DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 143
hind the recess in which the Duke's bed was placed.
It was always occupied by the valet on night duty
and could be entered only from the waiting-room.
As may be supposed, the Duke, in ordinary circum-
stances, never used the door communicating with
the servants' quarters, but would enter or leave his
room by the door leading into the West Yellow Room.
This was one of a suite of three drawing-rooms,
looking on to Cleveland Row, the other two being
known respectively as the Ball Room and the East
Yellow Room. Each of these rooms communicated
with the other and each of them had a door giving
access to the gallery. Beyond the East Yellow Room
was a small room, described as an armoury, and
beyond that again was a spare bedroom with a
dressing-room, known to the members of the Duke's
household as the “summer” room. Leading out
of the “summer ” dressing-room was a small dingy
servant's room, of the same type as the one adjoining
the Duke's bedroom, its solitary window, which
looked on to the gallery, being high up in the wall
above the bed. It was habitually reserved for
Joseph Sellis, the Duke's Italian valet, who slept in it
on those occasions when he had to accompany his
master on a journey necessitating an early start.
In addition to his ordinary staff of servants, the
Duke had four personal attendants—three valets and
a German, Mathew Graslin, who was styled the
Jäger. The valets were named Cornelius Neale,
Joseph Sellis and James Paulet respectively. The
last-named, who was a Frenchman, seems to have
been in a position somewhat inferior to the other two.
SI


144 DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET
Nevertheless, he always took his turn with them to
act as “ page-in-waiting” on every third evening.
This involved sitting up until His Royal Highness
retired for the night and sleeping in the little bed-
room leading out of the pages' waiting-room. Neale,
whose real name was McNeale, had been in the
Duke's service for about twelve years and Joseph
Sellis for very much the same length of time,
interrupted, however, by a short absence, during
which he had been in another place. Sellis, there
can be no doubt, was the Duke's favourite attendant.
It was he who shaved His Royal Highness and, for
that reason, doubtless, usually accompanied him on
his journeys. The Duke, who was of a hasty temper
and somewhat rough of speech, appears always to
have treated him with the greatest consideration.
Thus, when Sellis in a fit of ill-humour left his
service, he was allowed to return and resume his old
duties, as soon as he asked to be taken back. Again,
when he complained of the cold on a journey, the
Duke, on several occasions, allowed him to travel
with him inside his carriage. Moreover, at the
christening of his youngest child, the Duke and the
Princess Augusta, his sister, stood sponsors by
their proxies and, since that event, Mrs. Sellis had
been the recipient of presents both from the Queen
and from other members of the Royal Family. Nor
was it only by acts of condescension such as these
that His Royal Highness displayed his kindly feelings
for his servant. Hearing that he was put to great
expense to find lodgings for his family, he arranged
that rooms should be assigned to him in the palace.


DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 145
These were situated over the gateway leading from
Cleveland Row into Kitchen Court and were,
consequently, outside the Duke's apartments. Sellis,
however, was allowed to have a key of the green
baize door in the gallery and could thus proceed
from his house to his work, without going out of
doors.
Yet Sellis was neither a contented nor a well-
disposed man. He would not appear to have
nourished any especial grievance against His Royal
Highness himself, except that he complained that
he had not supported his application for a messenger-
ship and that he resented the fact that his wife was
not employed in the royal household, whereas Mrs.
Neale held the post of housekeeper. So notorious
was it that he was a person whom nothing could
satisfy that one of the Duke's equerries is related to
have said that, “ Were His Royal Highness to give
him Pall Mall, he would ask for Piccadilly, and were
he to give him Piccadilly, he would not be satisfied
without Bond Street.” The main source of his
discontent was, without doubt, his insensate jealousy
of Neale. Indeed, some two years before the occur-
rences which it is proposed to relate, he went the
length of writing to the controller of the Duke's
household to accuse his fellow-servant of dishonest
practices. The charges were investigated and were
found to be altogether groundless. No great
importance seems to have been attached to the affair,
which was looked upon, apparently, as a mere foolish
ebullition of temper on Sellis's part. A few words of
caution and a recommendation that he should seek


146 DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET
to be happy and not concern himself further with the
matter appears to have been the only notice that was
taken of his conduct on this occasion. It is clear,
however, from certain words which he let drop in
conversation with some of his friends, that he had
no intention of acting upon this advice. This par-
ticular attempt to ruin his rival had failed, but he
nursed his wrath and resolved to await some other
opportunity of gratifying his malice. In other
respects, Sellis was a well-behaved and sober man
who kept himself very much to himself and was
never on intimate terms with any of his fellow-
servants. Such friends as he had were mostly
foreigners and not members of the Duke's house-
hold.
On the afternoon of Wednesday, May 30th, 1810,
the Duke, who was President of the Royal Naval
Hospital, dined at Greenwich with the commissioner
and officers of that establishment and, on his return,
dressed with Sellis's assistance and went to a concert.
That evening, the ordinary domestic arrangements
of the household followed their usual course. Sarah
Varley, the head-housemaid, closed the shutters in
the sitting-rooms and in the “ summer" bedroom,
but, adhering in this to her habitual custom, without
troubling to secure them by adjusting the bar. She
then proceeded to the Duke's bedroom to arrange
it for the night. Removing the two bolsters and the
coverlid, which “ dressed ” the bed by day, she
placed them in one of the two cupboards in the
garde-robe which was always used for the purpose.
After thus disposing of them, she locked the cup-


DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 147
board door, leaving, in accordance with her general
practice, the key in the lock.
Sellis was now free for the rest of the evening.
It was not his turn to wait up for His Royal Highness
and he therefore betook himself to his own lodgings.
According to the story afterwards told by his wife
he had been suffering from a cold for the past
month, but, that evening, he felt better and appeared
to be in unusually good spirits. During supper, he
talked about the clothes which his children were to
wear on the King's birthday and, at the conclusion
of the meal, expressed his intention of sleeping
“ downstairs ” as the Duke was going to Windsor
the next day. At an earlier hour that evening, he
had, it was subsequently discovered, desired Mar-
garet Jones, one of the under-housemaids, to place
sheets upon the bed in the little room which, it has
already been mentioned, he always occupied on these
occasions. Now, when these matters came to be
inquired into, it was found that no single person in
the establishment had heard from anybody, except
Sellis, that the Duke proposed going to Windsor
and, in point of fact, His Royal Highness never had
any intention of the kind. It is clear, therefore, that
Sellis must have invented the story in order to
furnish himself with an excuse for sleeping“ down-
stairs," as he termed it.
Sellis, accordingly, bade his family good night and
departed, carrying away some clean clothes over his
arm intending, he told his wife, to bring back his
soiled linen the next day. Meanwhile Margaret,
the under-housemaid, having carried out her orders


148 DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET
to prepare his bed, was engaged, about 10 o'clock,
in tidying the stewards' room, the door of which
faced the room which Sellis was to occupy, when
she saw him come along the passage and enter his
room. The doors of both rooms being open, she
asked him whether the Duke were going to Windsor
the next day. In the morning, he replied, His
Royal Highness had expressed an intention to that
effect, but, in the evening, he had not again referred
to the matter. While speaking, he was actually
undressing and had already divested himself of his
coat, waistcoat and shoes and had drawn aside the
curtains of the bed. Then, having imparted the
information he bade her good night and closed his
door. Yet, it is evident that Sellis did not go to
bed, because shortly before eleven o'clock Thomas
Strickland, the under-butler, whose duty it was to
carry up the Duke's night drink, found him in His
Royal Highness's bedroom. The man was in no
way surprised to see him there at that hour, conclud-
ing that he was “page-in-waiting.” Neither of
them spoke, but Sellis gave his fellow-servant a
pleasant smile of recognition.
About half-past eleven, the Duke returned and at
once went upstairs to his bedroom. While he un-
dressed, he was waited upon by Neale, who was on
duty for the night. The usual procedure was
carried out in all particulars. As soon as the Duke
was in bed, Neale turned the key in the lock of the
door leading into the West Yellow Room and, having
placed a lamp behind a screen in such a manner that
it diffused a faint light about the room, retired to the


DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 149
little bedroom, where, as“ page-in-waiting,” it was
his duty to sleep. The events which followed are
thus described by the Duke in his affidavit. Between
half-past two and three o'clock, he was awakened by
a disagreeable feeling that a bat was in the room and
that its wings were beating against his head. A
shower of blows, however, with a sharp, cutting
instrument speedily convinced him that something
more serious was the matter. In the dim light he
could not make out his assailant and could see only
the bright flashes of the weapon, a sword apparently,
which he was wielding. His bed being on a raised
dais in a recess of the wall, he could not escape from
his would-be murderer on the side farthest away
from him and, in the meanwhile, in his endeavours
to protect his head and to lay hold of his assailant's
sword, his arms, hands and wrists were being cut
severely. Clearly, therefore, to remain where he was
would be simply to allow the miscreant to work his
will on him at pleasure. Accordingly, he leaped from
the bed and, calling loudly to Neale for help, rushed
to the door communicating with the pages' waiting-
room, pursued by his assailant, who continued to
strike him with his sword. The last blow dealt him
appears to have been somewhat in the nature of a
thrust which, besides wounding him severely in the
thigh, left a deep mark upon the woodwork of the
door. Neale had been awakened by his master's
first cries for help and, jumping out of bed, promptly
ran to his assistance. At the door he met the Duke
and, supporting him in his arms, led him to a chair
in the pages' waiting-room. Here he left him and,


150 DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET
entering the bedroom, seized the poker and prepared
to confront the robber who, he imagined, must still
be somewhere on the premises. In the room itself
he could see no one, but, the door into the West
Yellow Room, which he had locked three hours
before, being now open, he concluded that the man
had fled in that direction. Close to the door he
stepped upon something which, when he picked it
up, proved to be a sword. Arming himself with this
weapon, he was about to explore the adjoining rooms,
when a cry from the Duke brought him back to his
side once more.
Although faint from loss of blood and some-
what unnerved, the Duke had by no means lost his
presence of mind. It was essential, he told Neale
to arouse the hall-porter and bid him warn the
sentries to stop any person who might attempt to
leave the house. And, as he was reluctant to remain
alone while Neale departed on this mission, he
contrived to accompany him downstairs to the front
hall. Here they awakened Benjamin Smith, the
hall-porter, who was aghast to see his master covered
with blood and to hear that he had been the victim
of a murderous attack. Having given the man his
instructions, His Royal Highness expressed a wish
to return to his room and, with Neale's assistance,
contrived to ascend the stairs. By this time, the
alarm was general and in the gallery they found
most of the servants, who had come down from their
quarters on the second floor, huddled together in a
state bordering upon panic. Alone Mrs. Neale
appears to have retained some self-possession. By


DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 151
her orders two footmen were despatched to summon
Sir Henry Halford, the King's physician, and Mr.,
afterwards Sir Everard, Home, the surgeon, to
come round at once. Meanwhile, she assisted her
husband to conduct His Royal Highness to his
bedroom and to make him as comfortable as circum-
stances would permit.
The Duke, who was evidently much surprised
that Sellis, his favourite valet, had not come forward
to proffer his services, asked repeatedly why he stayed
away. Mrs. Neale accordingly set out to find him,
accompanied by Smith, the hall-porter, who was
now armed with a sword. Proceeding along the
gallery, they turned into the passage facing the
steward's room, and knocked anxiously at the door
of the little bedroom which Sellis was believed to
be occupying. It was securely locked, however, and
their rappings met with no response. It was in vain
that they shouted his name through the keyhole and
that Smith beat the door with the hilt of his sword.
In this dilemma, some one suggested that Sellis
must have returned to his lodgings and was not, as
they supposed, sleeping“ downstairs.” The Jäger,
Graslin, was therefore despatched to inform him of
what had happened and to tell him that the Duke
was inquiring for him. As no one had a key of the
green baize door in the gallery, the man had to go
out into Kitchen Court in order to reach Sellis's
1 Halford, Henry (1766-1844). Created baronet 1809.
President College of Physicians.
? Home, Everard (1756–1832). Surgeon, Lecturer on Anatomy.
Created baronet 1813.


DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 153
any moment. Their apprehensions on that score
were not realized, but on the threshold of the
“summer” dressing-room they were appalled to
hear a sound of “guggling” and of “ gurgling."
It resembled, some of them afterwards deposed,“ the
noise of water in a man's throat.” “Good God!”
exclaimed the porter, “ they are murdering Mr.
Sellis !” At these words the whole party turned
and fled and never stopped until they had crossed
the gallery and descended the stairs into the hall.
In their subsequent evidence both the porter and
the Jäger euphemistically referred to this flight as
“ going back to obtain further assistance.”
In the entrance hall they found Sergeants Crighton
and Davenhall and four men of the Coldstream
Guards who were on duty at the King's Guard, the
guard room of which was on the south side of Kit-
chen Court, opposite the Duke's residence. “ The
house,” cried the terrified servants," was full of
thieves and Mr. Sellis has just been murdered in his
bed.” Sergeant Crighton wasted no time in ques-
tioning them, but, directing a footman who carried
a candle to lead the way, went upstairs accompanied
by a file of the guard to investigate matters on the
spot. When they entered the “ summer ” dressing-
room not a sound was to be heard. The noise of
“guggling ” and of “gurgling ” which, a few
minutes earlier, had so alarmed the servants was
audible no longer, notwithstanding that the door
into Sellis's room was, as Sergeant Crighton after-
wards described it, “on the jar.” By this time their
guide, the footman, was in so abject a condition of


154 DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET
terror that the light would assuredly have fallen from
his trembling grasp had not Private Creedy, of the
Grenadier Company, taken it from him. Holding it
high above his head, he passed quickly through the
narrow doorway and down the three steps into the
little bedroom, followed closely by his comrade and
by Sergeant Crighton. A gruesome spectacle con-
fronted them. With his throat cut from ear to ear
Sellis, fully dressed but for his coat and shoes, was
half sitting, half lying upon the outside of the bed
against the back of which his head was resting. He
was not yet cold, as the soldiers perceived when they
examined him, and the blood“ all in a froth was still
running from his neck.” In the wash-hand basin
the water was so discoloured as to leave no doubt in
their minds that some one had sought to cleanse his
blood-stained hands in it. On the floor, about two feet
from the bed, lay an open razor smeared with blood.
“ Yes, he is dead enough,” said Sergeant Crighton
as he picked it up and placed it upon the table.
By this time Mr. Home, the surgeon, and Sir
Henry Halford had arrived and were proceeding to
examine the Duke's injuries. His wounds were both
numerous and severe. Nevertheless, there was every
reason to think that they would not prove dangerous,
although the cavalry sabre, the Duke's own regi-
mental sword, with which they had been inflicted
was almost as sharp as a razor. Neale, it will be
remembered, had picked it up close to the door into
the West Yellow Room after the flight of the would-
be assassin. In the opinion of the doctors, there
were two circumstances which accounted for the


DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 155
comparative harmlessness of his injuries, although
caused by so formidable a weapon. In the first place,
in accordance with the fashion of the time, the Duke
was wearing a thickly wadded nightcap, while, in
the second, the network fringe hanging down in
festoons from the cornice of his four-poster had
afforded him considerable protection. Its damaged
condition showed conclusively that, when his assail-
ant raised his sword to strike, it came into contact
with, and became entangled in, this ornamentation.
Thus, the blows descending upon his head had been
turned from their direction and, at the same time,
their strength had been greatly diminished.
As soon as the news of Sellis's condition was
conveyed to the doctors in the Duke's bedroom, Mr.
Home went off to attend to him. In a short time, he
returned saying that the man was unquestionably
dead, and that he had little doubt from the appear-
ance of the wound that he had taken his own life.
Later on, another surgeon, Mr. William Jackson,
made a more prolonged examination of the body
and emitted the same opinion. Meanwhile, before
four o'clock that morning, it was known at Brooks's
that a serious attempt had been made to assassinate
the Duke of Cumberland. It was the fashion to
keep late hours and several members, including the
Duke of Devonshire, Mr. Sheridan and Mr. Hervey
Combe, had not yet left the Club. On hearing what
had happened, Mr. Sheridan at once went off to
Carlton House to inform the Prince of Wales, who
rose immediately and proceeded without delay to
the palace. The Duke of Sussex was no less prompt.


156 DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET
Thus, within a comparatively short space of time,
both royal princes were by their brother's bedside.
An investigation into the circumstances of the
mysterious events of the night was at once begun
under the personal direction of the Duke of Sussex.
Already, a thorough search of the apartments,
carried out by Sergeant Crighton and his men, had
failed to discover the presence of any stranger upon
the premises. Every window by which such a
person could have escaped, after his attack upon the
Duke, was found securely shut, while the green
baize door in the gallery, the front door and the
area door were all locked. As the inquiry proceeded,
it became increasingly evident that the criminal
must have been a member of His Royal Highness's
own household. Had he not, when interrupted in
his bloodthirsty business, fled by the only one of the
four doors in the Duke's bedroom by which he
could possibly have made his escape ? Was not this
an indication that he was perfectly familiar with the
disposition of the royal apartments ? And there
were other circumstances all pointing in the same
direction. The shutters in the three drawing-rooms,
the armoury and the “ summer” bedroom, which
Sarah Varley had closed overnight, were now ajar.
Evidently the would-be murderer had thus opened
them, in order that after the commission of his crime
he might see his way clearly in his flight from room
to room. And had he not for additional security,
as Mrs. Neale discovered when she tried it, locked
the door between the gallery and the East Yellow
Room? That his line of retreat had lain through


DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 157
these rooms admitted of no doubt. On all the door
posts, but always on the side towards the Duke's
bedroom, was a tell-tale smear, suggesting that a
man whose clothes were wet with blood had brushed
against them. Nor did this trail, by which it was
possible to follow the would-be murderer in his
flight, end at the “ summer” rooms. The same
ominous marks of his passage were discernible in
the narrow doorway leading down to the little bed-
room, where Sellis now lay dead. And in another
quarter evidence was soon forthcoming which
pointed indubitably to this wretched man as the
guilty party. The large cupboard or press in the
garde-robe, which Sarah, the head-housemaid, had
locked the night before, was not as she had left it.
The door was open and inside the bolsters bore the
appearance that a man had recently used them as a
seat. And these were not the only traces of the pres-
ence of some person within the cupboard that night.
It now contained such articles as a pair of slippers, a
dark lantern, a water bottle and the scabbard of a
sword, which the housemaid was positive had not
been there when she had locked the door, the
previous evening. These slippers, when examined,
were found to be distinctly marked in ink with
Sellis's name, and the scabbard proved to be that of
the Duke's regimental sword, with which the assault
upon him had been committed.
By ten o'clock, on the morning of May 31st, the
Coroner presented himself at the Duke's residence.
No question of sending for the police had arisen, for
the simple reason that, in the modern sense of the


158 DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET
word, there was no police with which to communicate.
The only body of men which as yet existed for the
detection of crime and the unravelling of mysterious
cases consisted of “the runners ” attached to the
Bow Street and the other police offices. When a
death took place under conditions such as those
which surrounded the death of Sellis, the inquiry,
from the first, would be in the hands of the Coroner.
An ancient statute of Henry VIII, however, pre-
scribed the procedure to be adopted whenever a
death necessitating investigation should occur in a
royal palace. Before the Coroner could assemble
the Court, the matter must be brought to the
cognizance of the Privy Council and the members of
the jury must all be yeomen officers of the King's
household. In order to comply with the first of
these regulations, Mr. Read, the chief magistrate
at Bow Street, was summoned to the palace, where,
for the greater part of the day, he was engaged in
hearing the depositions of the doctors, the servants,
the guardsmen and of any other persons who could
throw some light upon the manner of Sellis's death
and upon the circumstances of the attack made upon
His Royal Highness during the night. Their state-
ments taken down in writing were, together with
the Duke's affidavit, submitted to the Privy Council,
which met later on in the afternoon. At that meet-
ing the proceedings appear to have been of an entirely
formal character, but they were attended by Lord
Ellenborough, the Lord Chief Justice.
1 Law, Edward, ist Baron Ellenborough (1750-1818). Lord
Chief Justice 1802. Had seceded from the Whigs.


DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 159
The office of Coroner of the King's Household was
purely an honorary one, inasmuch as the small salary
attaching to it was absorbed by the necessity of
feeing a marshalman and a clerk. In 1810 the post
was filled by Mr. Samuel Thomas Adams, a solicitor
of Great Russell Street, Bloomsbury. Whether
upon his own initiative or, as seems not improbable,
in consequence of a hint which he received, he
decided that the jury should not be composed as the
statute directed. In any event, it must have proved
a difficult task to find twelve persons, eligible to
serve, who could be described as “yeomen officers
of the King's household.” Apart from that, how-
ever, there was another reason which made it highly
inexpedient to adhere literally to this ancient
statute. Already, the town was full of rumours of
the strange events which had taken place at the
palace, and it was therefore in the highest degree
important that the jurors should be men whom the
public would regard as independent of the Court.
Mr. Adams's powers to summon jurymen was
limited, however, to residents within what was
termed" the verge 1 of the Court," and this had been
defined in the days when the King's palace was at
Whitehall. His jurisdiction, consequently, extended
only to Charing Cross, a few houses on the western
side of St. Martin's Lane and part of Cockspur
Street and Spring Gardens. But, if this area were
limited in extent, it was inhabited mainly by well-
to-do tradesmen eminently qualified to serve as
jurymen. All of them were Westminster electors
1 Jurisdiction.


160 DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET
and the great majority of them were warm support-
ers of Sir Francis Burdett.1 It had, indeed, been
difficult to find a set of persons less amenable to
Court influence and more disposed to probe to the
bottom of any affair in which a prince of High Tory
sentiments was concerned. The most prominent
of them, not only by reason of his material prosperity,
but because of his acute intelligence and his political
zeal, was Francis Place, the tailor, or, as he was still
officially described, the“ man's mercer” of Charing
Cross.
Nothwithstanding that a Life of Francis Place has
been written within the last twenty-five years, his
name is almost unknown, except to the comparatively
few who have made a study of the political history of
the early part of the last century. Yet, although
content always to remain in the background he
played no inconsiderable part in the struggle of
which the passage of the Reform Bill was the first
and the most notable triumph. He was an entirely
self-educated man who, having been apprenticed to
a breeches-maker, had by his own industry and talents
risen to the position of owning, while still compara-
tively young, a flourishing tailor's business. Politics
had always a great attraction for him and, in addition,
he seems to have had a genuine and honest desire to
improve the condition of the working classes and to
correct abuses. In his youth he had been a member
of the Corresponding Society, but he was never in
1 Burdett, Sir Francis (1770-1844). M.P. for Westminster
1807-1837. Advocate of Parliamentary reform, went over to the
Conservative party after the passing of the Bill.


162 DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET
Romilly, “ a very strong natural understanding and
possesses great influence at Westminster, such
influence as almost to determine the election of
Members of Parliament. I need hardly say that he
is a great admirer and disciple of Bentham.”
It was, undoubtedly, with considerable satisfac-
tion that Place received from the hands of the
Coroner's marshalman the summons to attend, the
next day," at the Duke of Cumberland's house at
St. James's Palace, to inquire, on His Majesty's
behalf, touching the death of Sellis.” It was his
lifelong practice to keep a minute record of current
events and to set down every evening anything of
interest which came to his notice during the day.
Of the 150 volumes containing his notes, his news-
paper cuttings and much of his correspondence,
which are now at the British Museum, several are
concerned exclusively with the Sellis case. Among
other matters he has carefully written down the
different stories about the tragedy at the palace
which came to his ears, in the course of this Thurs-
day, May 31st. All of them were of a highly scandal-
ous character and all of them more or less imputed
foul play to the Duke. The most generally credited,
and the least offensive, version of the affair was that
Sellis, having surprised his wife in a compromising
situation with his royal master, had assaulted him
and had himself been killed in a struggle in which
the Duke had not escaped unhurt. It had been
difficult, so general was the idea that the valet's death
was connected with some discreditable business in
which his master was implicated, to find an impartial


DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 163
jury. Place acknowledges readily that he himself
was strongly prejudiced against His Royal Highness.
Place had several times before served on a jury
and, on each occasion, had been invited to act as
foreman. It was very probable, he thought, that the
next day he would again be asked to officiate in that
capacity. He had no objection ; on the contrary, he
was anxious to undertake the task, feeling confident
that an attempt would be made to stifle the inquiry
and to screen the Duke. This he was determined to
prevent and the next morning accordingly, two
o'clock being the time fixed for the inquest, he paid
a visit to Mr. Henry Clifford 1 at his chambers in
Lincoln's Inn. With this gentleman, who was a
distinguished writer on legal matters and an advanced
Liberal in politics, he had often worked on the
Westminster Committee. Having obtained his
advice and having, in addition, consulted some other
legal friends about the various points which might
arise, he set out for the palace. When he arrived
twelve out of the twenty-four persons who had been
summoned to attend had already presented them-
selves. In ordinary circumstances, they would have
constituted the jury, the later arrivals being told that
their services would not be required. Place, how-
ever, was determined to serve and he insisted on
being sworn in. Mr. Adams made no objection and,
in the end, seventeen jurymen were empanelled,
Place, as he had expected, being asked to act as their
foreman.
These preliminary proceedings had been held in
1 Clifford, Henry (1768-1813). Barrister, legal writer,


164 DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET
one of the rooms on the first floor of the Duke's
residence, and, as soon as they were concluded, Mr.
Adams invited the several strangers present, some of
whom were representatives of the press, to withdraw.
To this place at once objected. The Court, he main-
tained, was an open one and the Coroner was over-
stepping his powers in seeking to conduct the
investigation in private. An altercation ensued, but
in the end Place carried his point. Indeed, from this
moment, Mr. Adams appears completely to have
abandoned the direction of the inquiry to the master-
ful foreman of the jury. The Duke, about whose
condition of health a bulletin had been issued that
morning, had been removed the evening before to
Carlton House. No question of disturbing him
could arise and the witnesses could, in consequence,
tell their stories in the rooms in which the events
which they were describing had actually taken place.
Before calling them, however, the jury proceeded to
view the body which lay in the little servant's room,
between the “summer ” rooms and the gallery, in
the exact position in which it had been found.
The space being limited, Place arranged that each
of them should enter in turn, by the narrow doorway
at the top of the three steep steps and, after taking
a good look at the body, pass out by the door leading
into the gallery. Sellis reclined, he records in his
notes, upon the outside of the bed, his arms stretched
peacefully by his side, nothing about him presenting
the smallest appearance that his death had been
preceded by a struggle. His head rested against the
back of the bed and, were it not for the hideous gash


DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 165
in his neck, it might be imagined that he had fainted
quietly. He had removed his coat and neckcloth
and his waistcoat was unbuttoned, but “ his panta-
loons were neatly tied round his ankles over his
stockings.” His shirt, indeed the whole front part
of his body, was a mass of blood from the wound in
his throat, which was, however, the only injury which
he had received. “We compared,” says Place,
“the marks of blood upon the body and on the bed-
clothes and were satisfied the man had died on the
spot and in the position in which we now saw him.
There was no blood under the projection of the shoul-
der bones, nor on some other places under the body.”
In arriving at their conclusions, the jury, he goes on
to say, were assisted by the surgeons, who, having
previously seen the body, were now invited “to
examine it more particularly " and to give the Court
the benefit of their professional knowledge. The
wound, the men of skill declared, was of an abso-
lutely fatal character. The windpipe was severed
and death must have supervened almost instantane-
ously.
Sergeant Crighton was then called and related
how he had found the dead man still warm to the
touch and with “ the blood still running in a froth
from his neck.” Furthermore, he pointed out the
1 Neither from Place's notes nor from the Minute Detail, nor
from the meagre reports in the newspapers of the inquest is it
possible to discover who they were. The only one mentioned by
name is William Jackson (Examiner, June 3rd, 1810). Was Home
called ? Place more than once talks of " the surgeons," therefore
there must have been others besides Mr. Jackson.


166 DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET
exact spot upon the floor, about two feet from the
bed, where the blood-stained razor was lying. It
was one of a pair belonging to Sellis, its fellow being
in the now open drawer of a little bureau standing in
the corner of the room. This question of the razor
raised a very important point. In the position in
which it had been found it was upon Sellis's left
hand, as he reclined or sat upon the bed. It fol-
lowed therefore that, if he had cut his own throat
with it, he must have performed the act with his left
hand. In view of the very precise finding which
they subsequently returned, it is plain that the jury
must have obtained evidence, which they considered
conclusive, that Sellis was a left-handed man. Un-
fortunately, none of the reports of the inquest say
from whom they derived this information and Place
himself throws no light upon the matter. In a note
in The Minute Detail 1 it is stated that "he was
equally adroit with his left hand in the use of the
razor," that he was, in short, what is known as
“ ambidextrous.”
Sellis's blue coat, notes Place, was thrown over
the back of a chair which stood some six feet from
the bed. Both the sleeves of this garment were
plentifully stained with blood. Yet there was no
blood upon the floor, in the space between the chair
and the bed, except a spot or two where the razor
had fallen. All the blood which had flowed from
Sellis's wound had gushed out in a straight line,
1 Minute Detail, etc., p. 85 (note). At the trial of Josiah
Phillips in 1833, for a libel on the Duke of Cumberland, Place
swore that Sellis was left-handed.
AIOUS.


DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 167
towards the foot of the bed. Not a drop had
spurted out at an angle, that is, in the direction of
the chair. The stains upon Sellis's sleeves could
not consequently have been caused by his own blood,
but by that of some other person, and must that
person not have been the Duke who had been
so grievously wounded by a mysterious assailant
during the night? And there was another curious
circumstance both about this coat and the pantaloons,
which Place, with his professional eye, had observed
were so “ neatly tied at the ankle.” They were not
the clothes, good evidence upon that point was
forthcoming, which Sellis had been wearing while
he had been in attendance upon the Duke, or while
he had been supping with his family. They were,
it was ascertained, old clothes which he had ceased
to use for some time past. When, therefore, he
went to his room and in the sight of Margaret, the
housemaid, made as though he were about to undress
for the purpose of going to bed, he must, in reality,
have simply changed into another, and an older,
suit of clothes.
Close to the chair, over the back of which the
blood-stained coat had been cast, lay Sellis's neck-
cloth. Strange to say it was found to be completely
cut through, “ the edges of the inner fold being
tinged with blood.” Its appearance indicated
plainly that Sellis, before removing it, had made a
first attempt to cut his throat. After seeing it, the
jury could feel no doubt that he had died by his own
hand. Had he been murdered, was it conceivable
that his assassin, after failing in an endeavour to do


168 DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET
the business through the folds of his neckcloth,
should have been able deliberately to lay bare his
throat and then have proceeded to sever his wind-
pipe ? The presence of some blood-stained water
in the wash-hand basin might, at the first moment,
seem to suggest that he had been the victim of foul
play. But, when considered in connection with the
other circumstances of the case, was it possible to
doubt that it was Sellis himself who had thus dis-
coloured the water, in seeking to remove from his
own hands the traces of his criminal attack upon his
master ?
In the Duke's bedroom there were numerous
splashes of blood, not only upon the walls, but
upon a picture of General Pichegru which hung
several feet away from the bed. It was plain that
his assailant must have been freely besprinkled, and
it was easy to understand why the doors of the
rooms, through which he had passed in his subse-
quent flight, should bear the traces of his passage.
On the one leading towards the pages' waiting-
room was a deep indentation, into which the point
of the sword with which the Duke had been wounded
fitted exactly. How the weapon had also come into
contact with the ornamental hangings at the top of
the bed, was plainly discernible, and each member
of the jury could see for himself that to that circum-
stance the Duke, not improbably, owed his life. It
has already been mentioned that the long cavalry
sabre with which the deed was committed was the
Duke's own regimental sword. It was entirely by
mistake, deposed Neale, that it had been sent away


DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 169
to be sharpened. Soon after its return from the
sword-makers, however, it was placed in readiness
for the Duke who was to hold an inspection of his
regiment. The parade was counter ordered, but
Sellis, whether by accident or of set design, he
could not say, did not remove the sword with the
rest of the Duke's accoutrements and military
effects and, for several days before the attempt
upon His Royal Highness, it lay upon a sofa in his
bedroom.
As the different witnesses gave their evidence,
the whole story of Sellis's movements during the
evening preceding the outrage was unfolded. It
was made clear that, for the purpose of carrying out
his sinister design, he had falsely ascribed to the
Duke an intention of starting for Windsor at an
early hour the next day. Thus, without exciting
remark, he had been enabled to occupy the little
bedroom which he always slept in on such occa-
sions. But his intention to spend the night there
was a mere pretence, seeing that in fact he put on
an old suit of clothes and secreted himself in a
cupboard in the Duke's garde-robe. With regard to
that, Sarah Varley described the condition in which
she had found the bolsters which she had deposited
in the cupboard and spoke to finding in it a lantern,
a pair of slippers marked with Sellis's name, the
scabbard of a sword and a water-bottle, none of
which articles had been there overnight. Sellis in
1 The Hanoverian regiment of which the Duke was Honorary
Colonel was known as the Cumberland Hussars. It behaved
very discreditably at Waterloo.


DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 171
which he had intended should be deadly, became in
effect almost harmless. When he realized this he
apparently lost his head, and, instead of shortening
his sword and closing with the Duke while there
was yet time, he allowed him to rise and gain the
door, contenting himself with a parting thrust as he
passed through it into the passage. Then he took
to his heels, leaving behind him, in the cupboard
in which he had been concealed and upon the doors
through which he fled, the clearest proofs of his
guilt.
The two Neales, the porter, the Jäger and the
Coldstream guardsmen carried on the story from
the time the household was aroused until they
entered the room in which Sellis, a few minutes
earlier, had cut his throat. From their narrative
and from the condition of the room itself, the jury
could without difficulty depict for themselves what
had happened, after the wretched man rushed
from the scene of his attempted murder.1 His first
care, it was clear, was to wash away the blood with
which his hands were covered. It had been his
intention, without doubt, to divest himself of the
old suit which he had put on overnight and, having
hidden it away, to go to bed. Then, if any search
were instituted, he would be found reposing peace-
fully, with the clothes which he had been wearing
during the day beside him, and they would be free
1 The account of the inquest is taken from Place's own notes,
Some of which are to be found among his papers at B.M.,
numbered 35, 144 ; others, in two books called Inquest on Sellis,
numbered 27, 851.


172 DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET
of all incriminating stains. But events moved too
quickly to enable him to carry out his programme.
Within a few minutes of the first alarm, his fellow-
servants were beginning to assemble in the gallery
and, shortly afterwards, Mrs. Neale was calling to
him through the keyhole and Smith, the porter,
was rapping at his door with the hilt of his sword.
Without doubt, he believed that all was discovered
and did not realize that they were as yet merely
inquiring for him, because the Duke desired the
services of his favourite valet. But it is certain that
he did not immediately resort to his last act of
desperation. For some ten minutes, at least, he
must have remained motionless, listening to their
voices and afraid even to undress, lest they should
hear him stir. His final resolution was taken only
when he heard Mrs. Neale say that they must seek
to gain admission to his room from the “ summer"
dressing-room. It will be remembered that the
suggestion to try the other door was made after
Smith came back with the news that Sellis was not
at his private lodgings, but was sleeping “ down-
stairs” at the Duke's. Once those who were
seeking him were to enter the “summer" rooms, his
last chance of eluding discovery would be gone. He
had in his pocket-it was taken from his body a few
hours later by order of the Coroner--the key of the
green baize door leading to his family apartments.
But to fly in that direction was to expose himself
to the full view of all the persons collected in
the gallery and was, consequently, out of the
question.


DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 173
Place's notes make it clear that the Court fully
realized the importance of establishing, as near as
possible, the hour at which Sellis actually died. If
it could be shown that he was alive after the house-
hold was aroused, it was plain that the Duke could
not have killed him, seeing that he was himself
wounded and bleeding and that, from that moment,
Neale and Paulet, the valets, remained with him
until the arrival of the doctors. Now Mr. Home
and the other surgeons who examined Sellis were of
opinion that he could not have survived the wound
in his throat more than about two minutes. It will
not have been forgotten that, when the porter and
the Jäger were approaching his room, they heard a
ghastly sound of “guggling ” and of “gurgling”
which caused them to retreat hurriedly. Sergeant
Crighton, whom they encountered in the hall,
thereupon, at once went upstairs with a file of his
men and found Sellis quite dead but not yet cold,
and with the blood still “ frothing" at his neck.
To the Court, Sergeant Crighton declared that,
when he thus ascended to the first floor, half an
hour had elapsed since the message was brought to
the guardroom that the Duke had been attacked
and seriously wounded. On the other hand, the
servants were disposed to think that Sellis was
found dead only a quarter of an hour after the first
alarm was raised. In view of all that happened, it
is probable that the Sergeant's estimate was the more
correct. But, in any case, it is certain that Sellis
was alive at least ten minutes after the attempt upon
the Duke. And that being so, did not the fact that


DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 175
described to the Court the impression which he
had made upon them recently. He seemed " dis-
satisfied with the Duke,” said Frederick Grivel,
the Duke of Cambridge's valet, and expressed a
bitter animosity to Neale, whom he spoke of as “ a
great scoundrel.” Antonio Panzera, the Duke of
Sussex's servant, deposed that the dead man had
used similar language to him and had told him that
he intended to leave the Duke's service, as he could
not endure to live under the same roof as Neale.
Ferdinand Burzio, a jeweller of Charles Street,
Grosvenor Square, testified that the deceased,
whom he had known for the past thirteen years,
had not long ago asked him to help him to obtain
another situation. He pointed out to him, however,
the folly of leaving a good place and did all in his
power to persuade him to remain with the Duke.
Mrs. Neale, also, in her capacity as housekeeper,
gave the Court the benefit of her observations. Her
experience of Sellis was that he was an 'obstinate
and quarrelsome man, who could“ not bear contra-
diction even from His Royal Highness.” The
Duke, nevertheless, invariably treated him with the
greatest kindness and consideration. On account,
presumably, of the scandalous stories which were
current, she was questioned about Sellis's domestic
life. “ He was," she declared, “on good terms
with his wife and did not appear to be jealous of
her.” Lastly, two women and a man came forward
who, about the year 1798, had been fellow-servants
with the deceased, when he was valet to a Mr.
Church in New York. At that time he consorted,


176 DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET
they declared, with a French cook who was a
notorious Jacobin, and was himself in the habit of
speaking very disrespectfully of Kings, in general,
and of His Majesty King George, in particular.
One night, Mr. Church's desk was broken open
and a considerable sum of money was stolen. Sus-
picion fell on Sellis, in consequence of which
Mr. Church dismissed him, the evidence being
insufficient to admit of criminal proceedings being
taken against him.
By this time it was nearly ten o'clock at night
and the list of witnesses was exhausted. Place,
accordingly, asked his fellow-jurymen whether they
were satisfied, or whether there were any points
upon which they desired to be enlightened further.
The Duke had not been heard in person, but his
account of the affair, in the form of an affidavit,
had been laid before the Court. Place, however,
made it very clear that, if any of them should think
it advisable, they could meet the next day at Carlton
House, where the Duke could depose orally and
reply to any of their questions. This he put to
each man individually and each in turn answered
unhesitatingly that no adjournment was necessary.
Their minds, they declared, were fully made up
and they would not even trouble the Coroner to
sum up the evidence. Place, however, when they
presently retired, read out to them the notes which
he had made in the course of the proceedings.
“ Every one of the seventeen jurors,” he records,
“ was perfectly satisfied that it was not even possible
for his (Sellis's) throat to have been cut by any one


DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 177
but himself and, as there was not a tittle of evidence
to show that he was insane, they had no choice,
however much they might, as most, if not all of them
did, reprobate the barbarous custom of burying a
man at a cross-road, but to say Felo de se."
In the legal jargon of the time the finding was to
the effect that “ Joseph Sellis not having the fear of
God before his eyes, but being moved and seduced
by the Devil did then and there feloniously, volun-
tarily and of malice aforethought strike himself
upon the throat with a certain razor, value one
shilling, which the said Joseph Sellis then held in
his left hand and, then and there, giving himself
one mortal blow with the said razor upon the
throat of the breadth of five inches and of the depth
of one and a half inches. ... And so the said jurors
on their oath say that the said Joseph Sellis, then
and there, voluntarily, feloniously and as a felo de
se murdered himself.” The consequence of this
verdict was that, on Sunday, June 3rd, the next
day but one after the inquest, Sellis's mortal
remains were removed from the Duke's residence
to a mortuary near Oxford Street in a hearse
“which drove away furiously.” About midnight,
they were again placed in the same conveyance and
taken to the neighbourhood of Charing Cross,
where they were “interned in a hole nearly opposite
the egg-warehouse and the lime wharf at Scotland
Yard. Notwithstanding so much secrecy was
observed,” runs the contemporary account in the
Times, “ and it being midnight, about thirty persons
were collected.”


178 DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET
Yet this finding, although it had been arrived at
after a most diligent inquiry into all the attending
circumstances, did not put an end to the rumours
of foul play. There are various reasons to account
for the suspicion that the real story of Sellis's death
had still to be revealed. Unquestionably, the
Duke's unpopularity and his reputation as a man of
strong passions and violent temper readily disposed
people to listen to any tale to his discredit. Never-
theless, had the papers given a full and connected
account of the proceedings at the inquest, all fair-
minded men must have been forced to admit that,
in this affair at any rate, he was deserving of nothing
but commiseration. Place, it will be remembered,
had been at pains to insist upon the admission of
the representatives of the press. It may be that none
of the persons who, in consequence of his inter-
vention, were permitted to be present in Court
were able to take down the evidence in shorthand.
In any case, the reports which subsequently ap-
peared in the principal London papers were
singularly meagre and incomplete. Yet the Royal
Family appear to have been only too anxious that
the public should be given the opportunity of learn-
ing the details of the affair. For several days after
the inquest, everybody who inquired for the Duke
was invited to go upstairs and visit his bedroom, as
well as the room in which Sellis actually killed him-
self, “ both being in the same state as when the
assassination was attempted,” and thousands of
persons are said to have availed themselves of this
permission. It may be doubted, however, whether


DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 179
an exhibition of that kind was calculated to serve
any useful purpose.
Sellis's motive for seeking to murder the Duke is
the one puzzling feature of the affair. According
to the anonymous author of the Minute Detail,
whose account of the case is, says Place, singularly
accurate and trustworthy, he undoubtedly intended
to rifle His Royal Highness's jewel-case. But, at
the same time, he regards it as improbable that he
committed the crime primarily with that object. It
was hatred of Neale, in his opinion, which impelled
him to attack his master. Were the Duke to be
robbed and murdered during the night, suspicion,
he calculated, would necessarily fall upon the
servant who slept in the adjoining room. Whether
this theory be correct or not, it is difficult to suggest
any better explanation of the only point in the whole
business about which it is impossible to speak with
absolute certainty. It was one to which the Duke's
many enemies were fond of reverting. Indeed,
two years later, His Royal Highness was con-
strained to prosecute a disreputable Sunday paper
called the Independent Whig for a series of articles,
in the form of letters, which practically charged
him with the murder of his valet. The paper was
owned by a certain White and a printer named Hart
and was carried on by them with the assistance of
White's son and an individual known as “ Pat”
Duffin who kept a gaming-house at Denmark Court
in the Strand. The younger White, was, however,
registered as the sole proprietor and, when the
Duke's patience was exhausted, it was against him


180 DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET
alone that proceedings could be taken. The case
came on before the Lord Chief Justice, Lord Ellen-
borough, and a special jury at the Guildhall, on
March 5th, 1813, and White having been duly
convicted was sentenced to fifteen months' im-
prisonment and a fine of £200.
This campaign against the Duke was, in Place's
opinion, begun with no other object than that of
levying blackmail, but in its later stages it was, he
greatly fears, subsidized by Mr. Brooks, the treasurer
of the Westminster Committee, and by Alderman
Wood, who was a few years later to earn great
notoriety for his championship of Queen Caroline.
It was probably on account of the letters in the Whig
that, in the same year, Sir Everard Home was moved
to publish a detailed statement about the affair.”
This distinguished surgeon was, it has already been
related, the first medical man to see Sellis after he
was discovered with his throat cut. From the
aspect of the wound and from the position in which
he found the dead man, it was physically impossible,
declared Sir Everard, that he could have died by any
other hand than his own. Had this evidence been
forthcoming three years earlier, it would doubtless
have had an excellent effect. But, appearing as it
did long after the event and a few months only after
a baronetcy had been conferred upon the deponent,
it probably did more harm than good.
i Wood, Mathew (1768-1843). Lord-Mayor 1815-1816 and
1816–1817. M.P. City of London 1817–1843. Created baronet
1837.
? Annual Register, 1813, p. 21,


DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 181
Twenty years later, at the time of the Reform
Bill, the Sellis case was again revived in a particu-
larly odious form. On both sides very bitter lan-
guage was used, but the propaganda of the Whigs
far surpassed in unscrupulousness anything which
can be traced to their opponents. The Duke of
Cumberland, as an Ultra-Tory and as a man about
whom scandalous stories were current, was a natural
target for scurrilous attacks. Early in 1832, an
anonymous work appeared entitled The Authentic
Records of the Court of England during the Past
Seventy Years. It was published by T. Phillips at
13 Wellington Street, Strand, and so exclusive was
the information which it purported to contain that
the high price of one guinea was asked for a copy.
A notice upon the title page gave the reader some
idea of what he might expect to find within the book
itself. “The editors of this work," it ran, “ have
given a fair outline of the facts and occurrences of
the above period, during which baseness of every
kind was practised and crime became an everyday
occurrence, deception and villainy were esteemed
virtues, while incest and adultery proved passports
to Court favour and promotion. Amongst many
other crimes the following are fully explained. ...
Sellis v. the Duke of Cumberland.”
The Duke, according to the Authentic Records,
was a man of the most depraved tastes, and Sellis,
who had surprised an infamous secret, was murdered
by him and by his minion, Neale. It being im-
possible to pretend that their victim had died a
natural death, it was inevitable that an investigation


182 DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET
should, in appearance at any rate, take place. The
aid of Lord Ellenborough, the Tory Lord Chief
Justice, was consequently invoked and it was not
invoked in vain. Witnesses who could have thrown
a very different light upon the affair were never
called, and only evidence which had been carefully
prepared beforehand was submitted to the Coroner's
Court. Nevertheless, the first jury, because they
were not allowed to see the body undressed, refused
to return a verdict. A second jury, however, all of
whom were directly or indirectly connected with
either the Court or the Government, were hastily
empanelled and proved more amenable. In proof of
these allegations, the signed deposition of a person
named Jew was printed in full. Stated briefly, it
was to the effect that, in 1810, the deponent was
one of the Duke's valets and on the night of the
tragedy it was his turn to undress His Royal High-
ness. After performing this duty, he retired to
rest, but during the night he was aroused by Neale,
who told him that the Duke had been nearly mur-
dered. Yet, when he presently entered His Royal
Highness's bedroom, he found him “ quite cool
and composed.” There was a little blood, it was
true, upon his shirt, and on the floor he perceived a
sword covered with blood, which the Duke himself
had told him, a few days before, to place upon a
sofa. He was ordered to go for Sir Henry Halford
and, on his return, was present while the Duke's
wounds were examined. None of them “ were of a
serious nature or appearance.” Nevertheless, the
surgeons devoted no less than two hours to dressing


DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 183
them, during which period neither Neale nor Sellis
was in the room, which struck him as “a very
unaccountable circumstance.” When at last the
task of the doctors was concluded, the Duke bade
him “ call Sellis." He went to Sellis's room and
found him in the dreadful condition which has been
described, and it was his firm conviction that, while
the Duke's wounds were being attended to, “ Neale
was absent, in obedience to arrangement, and was
employed in laying out the poor wretch's body in
the form in which it was discovered.” He then
proceeded to describe the part played by Lord
Ellenborough in the affair and to explain how it
became necessary to call together a second jury.
He himself was never summoned as a witness, at
either the first or the second inquest, although he
could have given evidence of the highest importance.
After “ this dreadful business,” he was approached
“ by some noblemen," who implored him “ to
make a full disclosure of all the improper trans-
actions” which had come to his knowledge. For a
long time he declined to speak and he only, at last,
consented to break his silence, “ under a binding
engagement ” that he should " not be left destitute
of comforts or abridged of liberty.”
On the Duke's behalf, Sir Charles Wetherell,1
the famous Tory lawyer, at once “moved for a rule
to show cause why a criminal information should
1 Wetherell, Sir Charles (1770-1846). Solicitor-General 1824.
Recorder of Bristol, where his appearance in 1831 caused the
famous Bristol riots, one of the most celebrated episodes of the
Reform Bill time.


184 DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET
not be filed against a person, named Phillips, for a
gross and infamous libel. ...” At the same time,
inquiries were set on foot, and Jew, the alleged
deponent, was speedily discovered. He was prob-
ably of French birth or, at least, of French descent,
for his real name was Joseph Joux, which had been
corrupted into that of Jew by which he was commonly
known. He had been with the Duke, not as a valet,
but as a footman, and had subsequently gone abroad
and entered the service of Prince Leopold of Saxe-
Coburg, who, in 1832, had recently been elected
King of the Belgians. When approached by the
Duke's legal advisers, he stated unequivocally that
he had never, at any time, made a deposition
regarding Sellis's death. The whole story, as told
in The Authentic Records, was, so far as he was
concerned, false from beginning to end. In 1810,
on the night of the tragic event at the Palace, he
had been sent to summon Sir Henry Halford, that
was the only part he had played in the affair. Never
had he been asked by “ some noblemen to make a
full disclosure of the improper transactions which
had come to his knowledge."
The law in those days moved slowly and it was
not until June 25th, 1833, that the trial of Josiah
Phillips was begun. Mr. Daniel Wakefield 1 had
been retained for the defence and Sir Charles
Wetherell, Mr., afterwards Sir David, Pollock, K.C.2
1 Wakefield, Daniel (1776-1846). Barrister, writer on politi-
cal economy, equity draughtsman.
? Pollock, David (1780–1847). K.C. 1833, Chief Justice
Supreme Court of Bombay 1846–1847. Knighted 1846.


DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 185
Mr., afterwards Sir William, Follett, and Mr. Jelf
appeared for the Duke of Cumberland. Mr. Adams,
the Coroner, deposed that there was not a word of
truth in the statement that any of the witnesses had
been examined by Lord Ellenborough and it was no
less false to say that the first jury had been dismissed
because they refused to return a verdict. After
explaining the ancient statute in regard to deaths in
the King's Palace, and giving his reasons for not
adhering to it strictly, he declared emphatically that
the jury, as a body, had no connection with the
Court. The only person among them who could be
described as associated with it in the remotest degree
was a Mr. James Gray, who was grocer to the Duke
of Kent. Place spoke very much to the same effect
and laid particular stress upon the extremely careful
manner in which the circumstances of Sellis's death
had been investigated. The Duke of Cumberland
himself went into the witness-box and told the story
of the murderous attack made upon him and ex-
hibited to the jury the scars which he still bore upon
his head and wrists. Lastly, Jew gave a complete
and absolute denial to the statements put into his
mouth by the writer of The Authentic Records. For
the defence, Mr. Wakefield did not contend that the
allegations for which his client was responsible were
true. To attempt to plead anything of that kind
was clearly hopeless and he, therefore, confined his
efforts to arguing that the case was one for a civil
1 Follett, Sir William Webb (1798-1845). Solicitor-General
1834-1835 and in 1841. Attorney-General 1844. Statue in
Westminster Abbey.


186 DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET
action, not for a criminal prosecution. In his sum-
ming up, the Lord Chief Justice, Sir Thomas, after-
wards Lord, Denman paid a high tribute to the
care and diligence of which all concerned had given
proof at the inquest and expressed the opinion that
"a more independent jury never sat to investigate
any circumstance.” Directly his lordship had con-
cluded, the jury, without leaving the box, brought in
a verdict of “ Guilty," whereupon Phillips received
a sentence of six months' imprisonment. But,
according to a reviewer in the Quarterly, of April,
1838,“ he evaded punishment by forfeiting his bail
and flying the country.” Incidentally, it may be
mentioned that it was Place's opinion that Phillips,
or rather those for whom he was acting, had ascribed
the pretended “ deposition ” to Jew, because they
were under the mistaken impression that he had died
abroad. It was, doubtless, a very disagreeable
surprise, when he appeared in the flesh to confound
them.
In the same year as The Authentic Records were
published another book of the same kind was brought
out, called The Secret History of the Court of England
from the Accession of George III to the Death of
George IV. The accounts of the Sellis affair are
precisely similar in both works, except that the in-
famous charge against the Duke and Neale is not
1 Denman, Thomas, ist Baron Denman (1779—1854). De-
fended Queen Caroline 1820. Attorney-General 1830. Drafted
Reform Bill 1831. Lord Chief Justice 1832–1850.
? The extreme leniency of the sentence imposed by the Whig,
Denman, is worthy of remark.


DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 187
stated openly, but is merely referred to incidentally.
Jew's alleged deposition, however, is reproduced in
exactly the same words as in the earlier volume. The
main difference between the two books is that The
Secret History is not an anonymous work, inasmuch
as it purports to have been written by Lady Anne
Hamilton, whose name appears upon the title-page.
She was a daughter of the fifth Duke of Hamilton
and had been lady-in-waiting to Queen Caroline,
whose cause she never abandoned. Thus it was to
her house in Portman Street that the Queen repaired
when, shortly before her trial, she returned to this
country from the Continent. Now, all through those
unpleasant proceedings, the Duke of Cumberland,
whose influence over his brother, the King, was
notorious, made no secret of his extreme hostility to
the Queen. He was necessarily therefore regarded
with the most intense dislike by all her friends and
adherents. Moreover, Lord Archibald Hamilton,
Lady Anne's brother, was not only an ardent
reformer, but was an old enemy of the Duke, having
strongly opposed in the House of Commons any
increase of His Royal Highness's allowance at the
time of his marriage, in 1815.
Lady Anne, however, always assured her friends
that she was not responsible for The Secret History
and professed indignation that her name should have
been associated with it. The question of the author-
ship of this work and of The Authentic Records has
been the subject of discussion in the pages of Notes
and Queries. According to Mr. Thoms, the founder
1 Notes and Queries, 3rd Series, XI, p. 89.


188 DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET
of that invaluable medium of communication,“ both
came from the active and unscrupulous pen of Mrs.
Olivia Serres.” This woman, who had acquired
some small reputation as a novelist and a poet, was
the daughter of a house painter at Warwick. Never-
theless, in 1820, she set up the impudent claim that
she was the legitimate daughter of Henry Frederick,
Duke of Cumberland, and, in consequence, began to
call herself the Princess Olivia of Cumberland. It
is by no means certain, however, that Mr. Thoms
was right in attributing to her the authorship of
either The Authentic Records or The Secret History.
But for the purposes of this inquiry the matter need
not be pursued any further. The most cursory
examination of the two books will be sufficient to
satisfy anyone that both have a common origin, and,
as regards the actual authorship, it is surely very
strange that Lady Anne should never have publicly
disavowed her responsibility for The Secret History,
unless, indeed, she had had a hand in compiling it.
The conviction of Phillips entailed the suppression
of both The Authentic Records and The Secret
History. But so many copies of the last-named work
continued to be sold clandestinely, that, in 1838, a
reviewer in the Quarterly deemed it necessary to
warn his readers of the folly of paying a guinea for
so worthless a production. After apologizing for
“expending even a few lines upon so contemptible
a subject,” he expressed the fear that “ if contem-
poraries will not take the trouble of recording their
evidence against such publications their present
impunity may give them some degree of authority


DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S VALET 189
hereafter." His words may have served a good
purpose in his own time and have put an end to the
illicit traffic of which he complained. But, un-
fortunately, they did not prevent the reproduction of
this odious work“ hereafter.” In 1876, a reprint of
The Secret History appeared and it was followed, in
1883, by a cheap edition in one volume, while
another and more expensive edition, in two volumes,
was brought out in 1903. In all these successive
editions the name of Lady Anne Hamilton appears
upon the title-page and, what is of more importance,
Jew's alleged“ deposition” is set forth at full length,
notwithstanding that he had solemnly repudiated it
in the witness-box. Verily, there is wisdom in the
proverb that “lies take a great deal of killing."


AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
LTHOUGH the trend of fashion towards
the boulevards had already set in, some of
the most famous of the Paris restaurants
were still to be found, in the middle of the
last century, under the arcades of the now deserted
Palais Royal. At one of these, Les Trois Frères
Provençaux, especially renowned for the excellence
of its wines, a party of eighteen or twenty persons
met for supper, in a private room, on the evening of
March 7th, 1845. It was an entertainment of the
kind which has often been described in novels deal-
ing with the lighter side of Paris life. Two-thirds of
those present were men, while the ladies belonged
to the class so happily named the demi-monde, by
the younger Dumas, a few years later. There was
neither host nor hostess, it being arranged that
every one partaking of supper should pay fifty-five
francs as his or her share of the evening's entertain-
ment.
Without question, this gathering at Les Proven-
çaux differed little from the ordinary supper party
consisting of gay ladies and their lovers and com-
panions. Two men, however, were present who
were not simply viveurs or gamblers, for the evening
was to conclude with a game of lansquenet,
190


AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR 191
Roger de Beauvoir ce poète dandy, ce héros de boudoir
C'est Alfred de Musset avec les cheveux noirs,
as Mme de Girardin 1 once wrote of him, was a
regular attendant at festivities of this kind. It was
in company such as this that he contrived to dissi-
pate the handsome fortune with which he began life.
He was famous for his gorgeous waistcoats and
eccentricities of dress. But he was, at the same time,
a clever talker, a charming companion and a great
favourite with women. As a poet and a novelist he
had some reputation, having achieved a considerable
success with his historical romance, L'écolier de
Cluny, the only one of his works which to-day is
not completely forgotten. But the most important
person present, especially in the eyes of the ladies,
who were all more or less connected with the
theatrical profession, was M. Dujarier, the part pro-
prietor and general manager of La Presse. On this
occasion, he was the invited guest of Mlle Lièvenne,
of the Vaudeville, and was the only one of the party
who did not contribute his share of the expenses.
La Presse had been founded, about nine years
earlier, by Emile de Girardin. It was the first half-
penny paper to make its appearance in Paris and
proved a great success. In political and contentious
questions, however, La Presse invariably used violent
and aggressive language and its proprietor had, in
1 Mme de Girardin, wife of Emile de Girardin (1804–
1855), wrote poetry, novels, and plays under her maiden name,
Delphine Gay; her political articles were signed Vicomte de
Launay.
* Girardin, Émile de (1806–1881). Founder of cheap press
in France.


AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
193
Yet, notwithstanding that this modest salary con-
stituted his only assured income, he regularly fre-
quented the restaurants of the boulevards and the
Palais-Royal and was constantly to be seen in the
company of fashionable courtesans. His ability to
live in so extravagant a manner can be accounted
for only by his persistent good fortune at the card
table.
Alexandre Henri Dujarier was only twenty-nine
years of age, and owed his position entirely to his own
industry and talents. Like many other successful
men he was not without enemies. In truth, he had
a certain curtness of manner and on occasions an
aggressiveness of speech which offended many
people. In his business dealings, he bore the reputa-
tion of being an honourable, straightforward and
generous man, while, in private life, he spent his
money freely and perhaps even ostentatiously. At
the time of the supper at Les Provençaux, he was
living with the famous Lola Montez, 1 who, however,
had not yet achieved the celebrity which she was to
acquire as the Countess of Landsfeldt, the mistress
of a reigning Sovereign. She was still merely a
third-rate danseuse who, probably through her
lover's influence, had recently obtained an engage-
ment in La Biche aux Bois, a musical comedy,
about to be produced at the Porte-Saint-Martin.
1 Marie Dolores Eliza Rosanna (1818–1861), daughter of
Ensign Gilbert of 44th Foot. Married Captain James of the
East India Company's Service, 1837. Divorced from him 1842.
Appeared in London as a dancer 1843, under the name of Lola
Montez.


194 AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
In her Autobiography she says that she and Dujarier
were to be married very shortly. It must be remem-
bered, however, that that exceedingly untrust-
worthy work was compiled in America and was
intended for American readers. It is most im-
probable that either of them ever entertained any
idea of that kind. In Paris, in 1845, ladies of her
class were not in the habit of regarding a liaison as a
stepping-stone to matrimony. According to the
evidence which she afterwards gave in Court, she
had expressed a wish to accompany Dujarier to
Les Provençaux, but he had declined to take her.
Her statement on that point is, doubtless, true. Was
it, however, as she insinuated, because he looked
upon the company as too mixed, or was it because
he had some other reason for desiring that his fiery-
tempered mistress should not be present at the
supper table on this particular night?
Dujarier, although seemingly in boisterous spirits,
was in a somewhat aggressive mood when he sat
down to supper. The shafts of his wit and his
powers of ridicule were all directed against Roger
de Beauvoir. In such circumstances, however, that
gentleman could take very good care of himself and
the table was, doubtless, entertained by a brilliant
exchange of repartee. But, while Roger de Beauvoir
was always perfectly good-humoured, there was
something about Dujarier's banter which created
an impression that he wished to be disagreeable.
And it was not only in this encounter with Roger
de Beauvoir that he showed a disposition to disturb
the harmony of the evening. Not content with


198 AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
troubled him. Although he only talked vaguely,
she gained a distinct impression that some un-
pleasantness had occurred and that it might have
further consequences. If it be true, as she after-
wards alleged in Court, that he feared trouble, his
foreboding was fulfilled. That afternoon, while he
was at the offices of La Presse, two gentlemen, the
Comte de Flers and the Vicomte D'Ecquevilley,
called to see him and announced that they were the
representatives of M. de Beauvallon who had cause
to complain of his behaviour at the card-table the
night before. They were instructed to ask for a full
apology, failing which they were to demand the
usual satisfaction. According to their subsequent
account of this interview, Dujarier showed no desire
to be conciliatory, on the contrary, his manner was
almost insolent. “Grandvallon, Duvallon, Beau-
vallon,” he repeated more than once. “What does
the gentleman want with me?” However, he
eventually referred them to two friends of his own,
MM. Charles de Boigne and Arthur Bertrand.
Before leaving D’Ecquevilley informed him that
he was also acting for M. Roger de Beauvoir,
who likewise considered that he had been rudely
treated.
The following day, March 9th, was a Sunday,
and no meeting of the seconds seems to have taken
place. M. Bertrand, however, came to breakfast in
Dujarier's rooms, a meal at which Lola Montez was
present. By this time, she was well aware that her
lover had an “affair " on his hands, but she did not
know with whom he had quarrelled and she was not


AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
199
enlightened on this occasion. The subject was not
referred to at breakfast, although the old dispute
with M. Granier de Cassagnac was discussed, and,
so soon as they had had their coffee, M. Bertrand,
in what she describes as“ his usual brusque fashion,”
told her “ to be off to her rehearsal, as they had to
talk of business with which a woman has no con-
cern.” Later on in the day, however, M. Napoleon
Bertrand, that gentleman's brother, presumably,
confided to her that Dujarier and Roger de Beauvoir
had fallen out, a piece of news which did not
disturb her greatly. With Roger she felt sure
that the difficulty could be arranged without blood-
shed.
The next morning, Monday, March 1oth, the
seconds met by appointment in M. Bertrand's
apartment. The specific acts of which M. de
Beauvallon had to complain were now set forth
explicitly. They were three in number. In the
first place, in the course of the game of lansquenet,
at Les Provençaux, M. Dujarier had, in more than
one instance, treated him with a great lack of cour-
tesy. Secondly, to insist on discharging his debt to
him, while leaving other persons unpaid, was little
short of an insult. The third grievance related to
a certain Mme Albert who was supposed to have
said, some months before, that M. Dujarier had
told her that he could not come to see her, because
he would not run the risk of meeting M. de Beau-
vallon. As soon as he learnt that the other party
had nothing but these trivial matters to bring
forward, M. de Boigne declared emphatically that


200 AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
they did not constitute a sufficient reason for a
hostile meeting. This was a view, however, which
M. de Beauvallon's seconds were not prepared to
accept and, after further discussion, they decided
upon a short adjournment, in order that they might
have an opportunity of talking over the position with
their respective principals.
At their second meeting, which took place in his
rooms, in the Rue Pinon, M. de Boigne announced
that he was in a position to assert that M. Dujarier
had not used the words imputed to him by Mme
Albert. Beauvallon's seconds, however, received
this statement coldly and without comment. Their
attitude was now far more uncompromising than it
had been in the morning. M. de Beauvallon, they
declared, was determined to obtain satisfaction. If
M. Dujarier considered that the reasons he had
adduced were insufficient, he could supply him with
others. He was even prepared, intimated D’Ecque-
villey, to go to the length of personally assaulting
him. After hearing these words, de Boigne realized
that all hope of avoiding an encounter was at an end.
But, while accepting the inevitable he resolved to
obtain for his friend the full benefit of the changed
situation. Hitherto Beauvallon had posed as the
affronted party, but D'Ecquevilley's threat com-
pletely reversed the position. This, he insisted,
must be recorded in a document to which they
must all affix their signatures. D'Ecquevilley made
no objection. Indeed, he appears to have been
indifferent to every consideration, so long as he
could avoid a peaceful settlement. The Comte de


AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR 201
Flers was entirely dominated by him and seems to
have been content to acquiesce in everything he
proposed. The statement drawn up by de Boigne
was as follows :
“ We the undersigned declare that, after a dis-
cussion, M. de Beauvallon challenged M. Dujarier
in language which has made it impossible for him
to avoid a hostile encounter. We have spared
no efforts to reconcile these gentlemen, and it is
only because of M. de Beauvallon's insistence
that we have accepted the mission of acting for
them.”
The immediate consequence of this declaration
was to give Dujarier, as the injured party, the choice
of weapons. Now, it was notorious that he was
wholly inexperienced in the use of sword and pistol,
while his adversary could handle both with equal
skill. So generally was his inferiority recognized
that the Comte de Flers, at an early stage of the
discussions, had conveyed a private and unofficial
intimation to M. Bertrand that his man, should
swords be chosen, would be quite content merely
to disarm his opponent. There can be no doubt
that Beauvallon's seconds were empowered to
propose swords. The matter, however, no longer
rested with them and another short adjournment
now took place, in order that Dujarier's wishes
might be ascertained. Directly he was informed
that the selection lay with him, he unhesitatingly
pronounced himself in favour of pistols. It is clear
that both his seconds and his friend, Alexandre
Dumas, endeavoured to make him reconsider his


202 AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
DS
decision. “When Beauvallon,” said Dumas, “ sees
how completely you are at his mercy, he will be
obliged from very shame to spare you. . . . More-
over, my son tells me he is a thorough gentilhomme.
But with pistols, who can say what may happen?”
The argument may have been sound, but it is
possible that with a proud and obstinate man like
Dujarier it only served to stiffen his determination.
Be that as it may, he adhered to his resolution and
his seconds were obliged to inform the other party
that their man had chosen pistols. The duel, it
was decided, should take place, the following day,
in the Bois de Boulogne. No specific hour was
named, because, before proceeding to the scene
of action, the seconds were to meet at nine o'clock
in M. de Boigne's rooms, to settle both that matter
and the conditions under which the men were to
fight.
All through this Monday, March 10th, Dujarier
had necessarily to keep in close touch with his
seconds, but he was much in the company of
Alexandre Dumas. He seems to have anticipated
the worst, and to have had a pathetic longing to
spend what might prove to be his last hours with
the friend to whom he was so devoted. But,
although his forebodings were of the gloomiest, his
resolution to fight never wavered. He scouted,
said Dumas, in his evidence, any idea of an arrange-
ment at the eleventh hour. He looked upon this
duel as a necessity of his position. He seemed to
think it almost an anomaly that he, the manager of
such a paper as La Presse, should never have had an


AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR 203
“affair.” It was “ a baptism of fire ” which he felt
he must undergo. “ Once he had fought with a
man of tried courage, such as Beauvallon, they
would leave him in peace.” At the same time, he
always insisted that he was going “out” on a
perfectly frivolous pretext. There was no real
cause of disagreement between him and his op-
ponent. It was purely “ une affaire de boutique.”
“ The quarrel was not between M. Dujarier and
M. de Beauvallon, but between La Presse and Le
Globe.”
Dujarier remained to dinner with the Dumas,
father and son. The younger man was about twenty
years of age and was, already, studying life in those
circles from which he was to select the chief
character in the most celebrated of his plays.1
During the day, he had taken Dujarier to a shooting
gallery, where his performance had not been
encouraging. In twenty-four attempts, he contrived,
on two occasions only, to hit the mark. When
dinner was over, Dujarier returned to his rooms,
where the elder Dumas was to rejoin him, after he
had been round to Les Variétés. M. Dumas was
deeply distressed at the serious turn which events
had taken. As soon as he had been placed in
possession of the complete circumstances of the
case, he had urged that the seconds should insist
upon priority being given to the affair with Roger
de Beauvoir. His personal influence over him was,
he knew, sufficient to ensure that it would be
amicably settled. And, if he should prove accom-
1 La Dame aux Camélias, published as a novel in 1848.


204 AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
modating, it would be an awkward matter for the
Beauvallon party to be more exacting. In any case
time would be gained and that was important.
Unfortunately, twenty-four hours after the supper
at Les Provençaux, Roger received the news of the
death of his mother. This not only affected him
deeply, but, by compelling him to leave Paris,
caused him to abandon the idea, if he had ever really
entertained it, of embarking upon a quarrel with
Dujarier. In these circumstances it became im-
possible to try this promising experiment.
On returning to the Rue Laffite, Dujarier wrote
a letter which, in the event of the worst befalling
him, was to be sent to his mother, whose sole
support he was. He then proceeded to make his
will, a work upon which he was engaged when
Alexandre Dumas arrived. Dujarier, he relates,
appeared reluctant to talk about the duel and turned
a deaf ear to his entreaties that he would alter his
decision about the choice of weapons. As regards
the actual pistols which were to be used, he appeared
to know nothing, having left all such details to be
arranged by his seconds. After warning him of the
danger of the hair-trigger in the hands of one so
inexperienced as he was, he offered to lend him his
own pistols, should the toss of the coin go in his
favour. Dujarier seemed indifferent, but, as he
raised no objection, Dumas departed and, presently
returning with them, placed them at his disposal.
Dujarier now recollected that he owed his friend a
thousand francs. Not having that amount of ready
money about him, he gave him a cheque on Laffite's.


AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR 205
“ It is drawn,” he said, “ on my personal account,
therefore cash it early. The duel will be over by
eleven o'clock. Believe me,” he repeated earnestly,
“cash it before that hour. It may be that by eleven
my credit will be dead.” About midnight, Dumas
left him and went home with a heavy heart. Scarcely
had he gone, when Lola Montez came in. On the
stairs she crossed M. Dumas and perceived that he
was labouring under some deep emotion, but they
passed each other in silence. She found Dujarier
very pale sitting writing at his table. He strove
to appear unconcerned and pointed out to her a
flattering paragraph about her dancing, which was
in the evening papers. He then told her that she
could not stay, as he was very busy. The pretext
that he had work to do did not deceive her for a
moment. She charged him with being about to
fight a duel and he did not deny it absolutely, but
spoke of it as an unimportant affair, an altogether
“trifling matter.” Nevertheless, the smile which
accompanied his words was “a very sad one." He
insisted, however, that she must leave him and she
obeyed, after he had promised to go to see her early
in the morning.
The next day, Dujarier rose about seven o'clock,
and was engaged in drinking a cup of soup, when he
received a message from Lola Montez, reminding
him of his promise of the night before and begging
him to come as soon as he was dressed. He told
her maid, who brought it, to say that he would be
with her very shortly. But, directly the woman was
gone, he wrote her a short note which he gave to


AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
207
de Boigne's pair should be used. A gold coin was
spun and D’Ecquevilley by a lucky call obtained
the decision in favour of his own pistols.
De Boigne's conduct in rejecting the inferior
weapons is quite inexplicable. It is clear that with
a clumsy and indifferent pair Beauvallon's skill
would be neutralized to some small extent. On the
other hand, the employment of pistols of great
accuracy and precision considerably increased his
already enormous advantage. Later on, when these
matters were under investigation, de Boigne explained
that he acted as he did, because the use of duelling
pistols made the affair more deadly and therefore
increased the chance that a reconciliation might,
even at this stage, be effected. But was the reasoning
sound ? Admitting that there was still a remote
possibility of arranging a peaceful settlement, would
it be assisted by the fact that this additional advan-
tage had been conceded to Beauvallon ? On the
contrary, would it not tend to make both him and
D'Ecquevilley, for de Flers scarcely counted, take
up an even more uncompromising attitude than
they had hitherto adopted ? By this time, surely,
de Boigne should have begun to realize the class of
men with whom he had to deal. Without doubt,
he was actuated by the best of motives, but, in this
instance, his judgment seems to have been singularly
at fault.
The question of the pistols having been settled,
it remained only to determine the conditions under
which the men should exchange shots. Apparently,
without much discussion, it was agreed that they


210 AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
Devismes' shop, in order to procure powder and
bullets. De Boigne did not pursue the subject. It
was very far from his desire to embark upon any-
thing in the nature of an altercation. He had always
intended to make a last attempt to settle matters
peacefully. It were useless, he knew, to expect
assistance from D’Ecquevilley, while, as for de
Flers, he appeared content in all matters to follow
the lead of his colleague. Disregarding therefore
the etiquette prescribed on these occasions, he
determined to address himself to Beauvallon in
person. “ M. de Beauvallon," he said, “M.
Bertrand and I have been concerned in similar
affairs both as principals and as seconds. We do not
consider that any just or sufficient cause exists for
this duel. I entreat you most solemnly to forgo
your intention of fighting. For God's sake abandon
it. Dujarier over there has no idea that I am talking
to you thus. Your reputation for courage is well
established. Pause, I implore you, before it be too
late. All your life long you may have cause to regret
having persisted with this business.” This earnest
appeal met with no response. After coldly remark-
ing that it was most unusual to seek to arrange an
affair upon the ground, Beauvallon said that he, for
his part, considered that there were amply sufficient
reasons for an exchange of shots. His mind was
quite made up on that point, “ events,” he added,
“had developed as he had always hoped that they
would.” After this truculent declaration there was
nothing more to be said.
When the ground had been paced and marked


212 AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
The fact remains, nevertheless, that he was not
prepared to assume the grave responsibility of
refusing to accept D'Ecquevilley's statement, to
the truth of which he pledged his word of honour.
In these circumstances, he raised no further objec-
tions and resumed his interrupted task of loading
Dujarier's pistol. As soon as that business was
completed, the combatants were posted, the condi-
tions were again explained to them and, when they
had announced that they were ready, the signal to
begin was given.
Dujarier, taking a step forward, discharged his
pistol wildly and then, having thrown it to the ground,
stood immovable confronting his antagonist. Beau-
vallon, coming to an immediate standstill, brought
up his pistol and covered him deliberately. Too
deliberately, thought Dujarier's friends, to whom
every moment seemed like an hour. “ Shoot man,
damn you, shoot !” cried de Boigne, unable
any longer to contain himself. Beauvallon fired.
Dujarier made no movement and, for one short
instant, it seemed as though he were untouched.
Then suddenly he fell to the ground like a log
and lay motionless. The surgeon and his seconds
hastened to his assistance and raised him up into a
sitting position. The bullet had struck him close
to the bridge of the nose and, at a glance, M. de
Guise perceived that he was mortally wounded.
But, as he appeared conscious, he affected to treat
the matter lightly. Bending over him, de Boigne
inquired whether he was in pain. He tried to
murmur something and then his head fell back and



PE
ALL
MUS
WITH
ONS
ES
THE DUEL IN THE BOIS DE ROULOGNE


214
AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
It occurred to her that M. Dumas might know
something and she accordingly set out for his house.
At an earlier hour, M. Dumas himself had been to
Dujarier's rooms, but he had already gone out when
he arrived, and he was in consequence unable to
exchange a last word with him. On the landing he
noticed a few spots of blood. Being of a superstitious
turn of mind he was greatly disturbed. It was an
evil omen that, on this particular morning, he should
see stains of that kind upon Dujarier's own staircase.
It was from Alexandre Dumas that Lola learnt
for the first time that Beauvallon was her lover's
antagonist. At the mention of his name, she
uttered a cry of alarm and exclaimed that Dujarier
was “ a dead man.” Had she guessed that the duel
was with Beauvallon, she would have communicated
with the police and gone to any lengths to stop it.
It is not absolutely clear whether she was personally
acquainted with the man. At the subsequent trial,
she certainly let it be understood that she knew him
by name only. And it is probable that she spoke
the truth. Nothing was ever elicited to suggest that
relations of any kind had existed between them. But
it is very possible that she had heard of his skill
both with sword and pistol. It was, doubtless, also
within her knowledge that he was the brother-in-
law of the editor of Le Globe, with whom Dujarier
had a long-standing feud. She may very well have
anticipated the worst, if she suspected—as she did
apparently—that behind Beauvallon with his deadly
skill stood the implacable Granier de Cassagnac.
From M. Dumas' house she returned to Dujarier's


216
AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
by the immunity which the law, in practice if not in
theory, accorded him, it was essential that the affair
in which he had been concerned should have been
conducted properly. If there were any departure
from prearranged conditions, or if there were the
smallest suspicion of foul play, the business at once
assumed a different aspect. And, as regards this
duel in which Dujarier lost his life, very ugly
stories were going about, from the moment that his
seconds brought back his dead body to his rooms
in the Rue Laffite.
Although, at the time, M. Bertrand accepted the
reason advanced by D’Ecquevilley to explain the
fouling of the pistols, he was clearly very far from
comfortable in his own mind on the subject. In
the carriage, in the course of their melancholy
return journey from the Bois de Boulogne, with
Dujarier's lifeless body beside them, he showed his
blackened finger to M. de Guise, the surgeon. In
Paris he exhibited it to Dr. Veron and to M. Emile
de Girardin. And, at the same time as he drew
these gentlemen's attention to its appearance, he
gave them to understand that he had little doubt
that, in violation of the rules laid down for the duel,
the pistols had been tried. The inequality of the
conditions under which the antagonists had met
had from the first aroused some unfavourable
comments. But it was soon bruited abroad that,
not content with the advantage which his superior
skill conferred upon him, Beauvallon had practised
for hours with the actual pistols which were after-
wards used in the duel. The story came to the ears


AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
217
of the authorities, and a judicial investigation was
begun, in consequence of which, some three weeks
after the fatal event of March 11th, both Beauvallon
and D'Ecquevilley judged it prudent to leave Paris
and to cross the frontier into Spain. But the
inquiry, although it lasted for some time, was
never conducted with vigour and, early in July,
La chambre des mises en accusation found that no
grounds existed for a prosecution. The two
fugitives accordingly returned, under the impres-
sion that all danger that proceedings would be
taken against them was at an end. But in that they
were mistaken.
Beauvallon, who on arriving in Paris had placed
himself at the disposal of the authorities, was dis-
agreeably surprised to discover that he was not
merely complying with an empty formality. The
finding of the Paris Court was quashed by the Cour
de Cassation, which, at the same time, directed that
the case should be reopened at Rouen. This
second inquiry was of a far more searching character
and led to some important results. No direct
evidence, it was true, was obtained that the accused
had practised with the pistols which were subse-
quently used. But the investigations into his acts
and movements, in the hours which preceded the
encounter in the Bois de Boulogne, tended greatly
to strengthen the suspicion that he had been guilty
of resorting to some unfair proceeding of that kind.
In addition, the true history of the pistols themselves
was dragged to light. These, it will be remembered,
had been accepted by Dujarier's seconds in the


218
AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
belief that they belonged to D'Ecquevilley and that
Beauvallon himself had never handled them. But,
when they were shown to Devismes, the gunsmith,
he at once identified them as a pair which he had
sold, about eighteen months before, to M. Granier
de Cassagnac. There was no refuting this evidence
which, seeing the intimacy existing between the
brothers-in-law, raised a strong presumption that
they were weapons with which Beauvallon for some
time past had been in the habit of practising. After
a lengthy magisterial investigation, the Court, in
which the power to decide such questions was
vested decreed that he should be indicted on a
charge of wilful and premeditated murder.
Beauvallon's trial began, on March 26th, 1846,
in the ancient Palais de Justice at Rouen. M.
Letendre de Tourville presided over the Court and
M. de Rieff appeared to prosecute. The interests
of the parti civil, of Mme Dujarier mère, who
claimed damages, were entrusted to M. Léon
Duval, who was assisted by a junior member of the
Rouen bar and by M. François, the dead man's
brother-in-law. For his defence, the prisoner had
retained the services of M. Berryer, the legitimist
deputy, who was reputed the greatest master of
forensic oratory in France. The case excited a
widespread interest and, throughout the proceed-
ings, the Court was densely crowded. The ladies
of Rouen and the neighbourhood were present in
large numbers, although, for the most part, they cared
little about the points at issue. Their interest was
centred almost exclusively in the appearance in the


AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
219
witness-box of such well-known persons as M.
Alexandre Dumas, who was at the very height of
his popularity. And, at the same time, they could
enjoy the prospect that their less legitimate curiosity
would be gratified by the sight of Lola Montez
and of the more or less notorious women who had
taken part in the unfortunate supper party at Les
Provençaux.
After the acte d'accusation had been read M. de
Rieff, the prosecutor, addressed the Court. It is
unnecessary, however, to say anything about his
speech, seeing that he was content merely to
expound his view of the law, in regard to duelling,
and made no attempt to review the facts of this
particular case. When he sat down, the President
at once took the accused in hand. After question-
ing him about the early incidents of the affair, he
made some severe comments upon his conduct in
deliberately converting a mere difference of opinion
at the card-table into a serious quarrel. Moreover,
it was really immaterial whether there were any-
thing provocative about Dujarier's attitude that
evening. The challenge and a very brutal challenge
had come from the accused and not from his
victim. That fact was admitted and recorded in
a document, to which both sets of seconds had
appended their signatures. It was clear that
Dujarier was recognized as the insulted party,
seeing that he was allowed the choice of weapons.
To this Beauvallon could only reply that he had
simply instructed his friends to obtain an apology
at all costs. That was the meaning of the words


220 AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
“ insistence of M. de Beauvallon " in the paper to
which the President had alluded. Most certainly
he had never “ insisted ” that, happen what might,
a duel must take place. It was not his fault, he
pleaded, that pistols had been used. If an armed
encounter were to become inevitable, he had always
hoped that swords would be chosen. He had a
certain skill, he admitted, with the foils and he
proposed merely to disarm his antagonist. Indeed,
he had consulted Grisier, the famous maître d'armes,
on that very subject. It may be well to say at once
that this last statement was confirmed by Grisier
himself in the witness-box. Nevertheless, it would
seem that this question might fairly have been put.
If it were true that on Monday he was animated by
these generous and humane sentiments towards his
antagonist, why should he on Tuesday deliberately
shoot him through the head, when he was defence-
less and completely at his mercy ?
Having sufficiently dealt with this part of the
case, the President went on to question him about
the pistols. They belonged, he was now forced to
acknowledge, to his brother-in-law, M. Granier de
Cassagnac. But he declared most positively that
he had never used them on any previous occasion.
They were kept at Devismes' shop and were
brought to his house presumably by his brother-in-
law's servant. In any case, he found them there
when he returned home, about 12 o'clock, on the
night preceding the duel. The following day, he
rose early and going out, about 7 o'clock, took them
10. p. 201.


AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR 221
to M. D'Ecquevilley, who lived some distance
away, at Chaillot. At this point, the President
interrupted him with the remark that the concierge
had stated, before the investigating magistrate, that
he had left the house at an earlier hour than that.
Beauvallon, however, insisted that the woman was
mistaken and that the time which he had mentioned
was correct. He was then asked why the fact that
the pistols belonged to M. Granier had been so
studiously concealed from the other party. Not
having been present at the meeting in M. de Boigne's
rooms, he could not say precisely what had passed
between the seconds. But he could quite under-
stand that M. D'Ecquevilley should have been
anxious to keep his brother-in-law's name out of
the business. Continuing the story of his move-
ments, he stated that after leaving Chaillot he took
the omnibus to the Rue Saint-Lazare, where he
spent some time with a friend, M. de Bérard. On
returning to his rooms, he found his seconds
impatiently awaiting him. To his surprise, for he
had not expected that they would arrange so early a
meeting, they told him that the duel was to take place
immediately and that his opponent and his friends
had already set out for the Bois de Boulogne. He
was obliged, however, to change into black clothes,
and when they at last started off they were com-
pelled to call at Devismes' shop to obtain powder
and bullets. Thus, it came about that they were
late in arriving at the place of meeting. It should,
perhaps, be explained that it was the custom of the
combatants in a duel always to dress in black and


222 AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
to button up their coats to the throat, in order to
avoid showing any white linen, which might serve
as a mark for their opponent's aim.
As regards M. de Boigne's personal appeal to
him at the eleventh hour, he regretfully acknow-
ledged that he had not met it in as conciliatory a
spirit as he should. He was of opinion at the time,
that, once the two parties were upon the ground, it
was too late to talk of a peaceful settlement. But,
while he was prepared to make this admission, he
stoutly denied that he had ever used any words to
the effect that he was glad that events had developed
as they had. The incident of M. Bertrand's
blackened finger only came to his knowledge after
the duel. The seconds had certainly tested the
pistols with a cap and possibly with a few grains of
powder, before loading them. He was certain that
he had returned his adversary's fire as quickly as
possible. Directly he had brought his pistol up to
the level of his eye, he had pressed the trigger. It
was true that M. de Boigne had shouted to him to
fire. He firmly believed, however, that he had no
other object in view than to put him off his aim.
His conduct was irregular, but he did not blame
him, because he was sure that he was actuated by
purely humane motives.
In a French criminal trial it is the business of the
President to bring to the notice of the jury any
discreditable affair in which the accused has been
concerned. No previous convictions were recorded
against Beauvallon, but the police inquiries into his
past life had brought to light a disreputable episode


AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
223
of his student days. It appears that on some occa-
sion, when he was desirous of going to a fancy
dress ball, he was short of money, and, in order to
provide himself with the sum of which he stood in
need, he took a watch belonging to his aunt to the
pawnbroker's. The theft was promptly discovered
and he was forced to confess his guilt. The circum-
stances of the affair, however, were not allowed to
transpire beyond the family circle and, after a time,
his aunt forgave him. But the President now
invited him to carry his mind back to that un-
pleasant business. It was in vain that he protested
that it was irrelevant to the points at issue before
the Court. One by one the squalid details of the
affair were relentlessly extracted from him. When
the whole of the wretched story had been unfolded,
he broke down completely and was told that he could
sit down, his examination was at an end.
The evidence of the witnesses need only be re-
ferred to very shortly. It is from their account of
the different episodes of the affair that the story of
the duel, as told in the earlier pages of this narrative,
has been compiled. Roger de Beauvoir described
the supper party and the somewhat disagreeable
attitude which Dujarier assumed towards him. He
spoke of the familiar tone which the unfortunate
man adopted towards the women and caused some
amusement by repeating the unseemly declaration
which he addressed to Mlle Lièvenne. That lady
and her fair companions of the supper-table were
called to testify to the same class of events. With a
singular lack of good taste all of them saw fit to


224 AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
present themselves before the Court attired in the
latest fashions and in the brightest colours. And
when they entered the witness-box their sense of
memory failed them completely. None of them
could recollect anything, either about the supper or
about the game of lansquenet. Indeed, but for the
interest which they aroused in the audience, they
might with advantage have stayed away altogether.
Alexandre Dumas, on the other hand, appears to
have been a loquacious witness. “I should describe
myself as a dramatist,” he said to the President,
“were I not addressing you in the birthplace of
Corneille.” After delivering himself of this exor-
dium, which drew from the President the reply,
" that it was all a question of degree,” he related
with great minuteness his conversations with
Dujarier on the day preceding the duel. Nor did
he confine himself exclusively to those matters
which had come under his notice, in connection
with the affair before the Court. On the ethics of
duelling generally he had much to say, and he
took this opportunity of expounding his views at
length.
In the witness-box Lola Montez presented a
pleasing contrast to Mlle Lièvenne and her friends.
She was becomingly, but at the same time very
quietly and appropriately dressed and, moreover,
expressed herself with intelligence and feeling. In
relating certain episodes she displayed an emotion
whch was doubtless genuine, it being the opinion
of her most recent biographer that she was more
attached to Dujarier than to any of the men with


AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
225
whom at various times she was associated. M. de
Bérard corroborated Beauvallon's statement that,
on the morning of the duel, after leaving the pistols
with D’Ecquevilley, he spent some time with him.
Furthermore, he related an incident of the visit.
While they were talking, his grandmother, Mme de
Villiers, entered the room and, on seeing M. de
Beauvallon, exclaimed, “I congratulate you, sir.
You were just now at the Church of Notre-Dame-
de-Lorette, I saw you there.” “ That is so,” inter-
jected the prisoner from the dock," although I saw
no reason to speak of it before, I have been reli-
giously brought up. Well, I was on the point of
going out to fight and I went into the church.” “ It
is a pity,” retorted the President dryly, “ that your
devotions did not have more influence on your
conduct later on in the day.” Mme de Villiers, how-
ever, when called in her turn, gave a different
account of the affair. It was not she, but Beau-
vallon himself, who said, “ You are just come from
Notre-Dame-de-Lorette. I saw you, I was there
before you."
The discussions which preceded it and the duel
itself were described by MM. de Boigne, Bertrand
and de Flers. The last-named gentleman, who
gave his evidence very frankly, acknowledged that
he had never considered that there was a sufficient
reason for an armed encounter. He had, however,
he admitted, been content to play a very secondary
part in the negotiations. Bertrand told the story of
his blackened finger, and de Boigne, in reference to
the pause which had taken place between the two


226
AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
shots, now declared that he was inclined to think
that he had over-estimated the length of time which
elapsed before Beauvallon returned his opponent's
fire. He had certainly called out to him to shoot,
but his nerves at that moment were overwrought
and he was hardly in a condition to judge matters
coolly. The evidence of these three gentlemen was
supplemented by that of the surgeon, M. de Guise,
who, in addition, described the incidents of their
cold and dreary wait in an alley of the Bois de
Boulogne. It is worthy of remark that none of the
witnesses for the prosecution showed any dis-
position to press the case against the accused. Even
Alexandre Dumas, Dujarier's most intimate friend,
declared that he believed Beauvallon to be a man of
honour.
It was clear that, if Beauvallon were guilty of
unfairly trying the pistols, the Vicomte D'Ecque-
villey must have connived at his proceedings. In
an English Court of Justice, in such circumstances,
he would have had to undergo a severe cross-
examination, at the hands of the counsel for the
prosecution. But the French system is different
and depends, for eliciting the truth, upon the
confrontation of witnesses with each other and with
the accused. Nevertheless, after he had given his
version of the duel and of the different events
connected with it, D'Ecquevilley had to answer
some searching questions, which were put to him
by the President. How was it that he had told
MM. de Boigne and Bertrand that the pistols it
was proposed to use belonged to him ? It was a


228 AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
he had been carrying them under his coat against
his chest.
When the last witness had been heard, M. Duval,
representing the parti civil, reviewed the case for
the prosecution in a witty and reasoned address.
Questions of space, however, render it impossible
to do more than to allude very briefly to that portion
of it which deals with Beauvallon's proceedings on
the morning of the duel. According to his own
story, said M. Duval, the accused found the pistols
in charge of the concierge when he returned home,
about midnight, and the following morning, about
seven, took them to his second, M. D’Ecquevilley.
But, contended counsel, unless he had some sinister
purpose in view, why not hand them over to M. de
Flers, who lived almost next door to him? Why
be at the trouble of conveying them all the way to
Chaillot? It must not be forgotten, however, that
the Rue de Bataille, at Chaillot, was close to the
Rond-Point-des-Champs-Élysées, where Reinette's
shooting ground was situated, and that the prisoner
was a regular frequenter of that establishment.
Did he visit it on the morning of the duel ? Was
this the true explanation of this otherwise un-
accountable expedition to Chaillot ? The meeting
at M. de Boigne's rooms was to take place at
nine o'clock. The accused could therefore practise
for at least an hour, before his friend, M. D’Ecque-
villey, need set out with the pistols to keep his
appointment in the Rue Pinon. And who, asked
M. Duval, was this person styling himself the
Vicomte D'Ecquevilley? Who could say anything


230 AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
possession of the true facts. He and Beauvallon,
however, were connected by old ties and associa-
tions. Both belonged to families which had been
settled in the French West Indies for two or three
generations, and only recently he had stood second
to M. Granier de Cassagnac in his duel with
M. Lacrosse. So long as Beauvallon was in peril of
his life, he appears to have made up his mind that he
would not testify against him. But, once he was
acquitted, he was no longer restrained by the same
considerations, and on his return journey to Paris
he unburdened his mind to M. de Guise.
On the day before the duel, he told the surgeon,
Beauvallon confided to him that he had “an affair"
on hand and asked him to accompany him the next
morning to Chaillot, where he intended to practise
with a pistol. Meynard agreed and Beauvallon
accordingly called for him, soon after six o'clock, and
took him to the house in which M. D'Ecquevilley
lodged at Chaillot. Here, in the garden, Beauvallon
proceeded to fire a number of shots against a wall
upon which Meynard himself marked out a target
with a stone. On this occasion he used a pair of
duelling pistols and a pair of horse pistols belonging,
he was told, to D’Ecquevilley. With both sets of
weapons his shooting was remarkably accurate and
Meynard congratulated him on his skill. About
half-past eight, D'Equevilley went off to meet the
other seconds at M. de Boigne's, whereupon Mey-
nard departed with Beauvallon, who presently left
him and entered an omnibus going in the direction
of the Rue Saint-Lazare. Very soon after the duel,


AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
231
Meynard was obliged to go to the West Indies on
business of urgent importance. Consequently, he
heard nothing of the rumours of foul play which
began to circulate in Paris almost immediately after
the affair, and it was only on the eve of Beauvallon's
trial that he returned to France.
In explanation of Meynard's story, it should be
pointed out that Beauvallon had a perfect right to
practise before meeting his antagonist. The allega-
tion of foul play brought against him was based on
the suspicion that he had practised with the particu-
lar pistols afterwards used in the duel. Meynard,
when he watched his performance in the garden at
Chaillot, had no idea that he was witnessing a most
unlawful proceeding. Needless to say, he was not
informed that D’Ecquevilley proposed to declare to
Dujarier's seconds that the pistols which Beauvallon
was handling so skilfully were a pair with which he
had never fired a shot. Nevertheless, even under
these conditions, it is truly extraordinary that Beau-
vallon should have run the unnecessary risk of taking
M. de Meynard with him to Chaillot. It is quite
impossible to suggest any reasonable explanation of
his conduct, on this occasion. Presumably, it
should be set down to that unaccountable aberration
of intellect which so often seems to overtake the
criminal and bring about his undoing.
M. de Guise, who was, apparently, not pledged to
secrecy, talked freely about Meynard's disclosures
and the authorities once more were moved to take
action. An inspection of the wall in the garden of
D’Ecquevilley's house, revealed the presence of


AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
233
seems to have comported himself with even more
than his usual insolence. Not content with stalking
defiantly about the precincts of the Court and with
staring aggressively at the witnesses for the prosecu-
tion, he went the length of addressing one of them
in threatening language. The man complained and
M. Granier received a severe rebuke from the Court.
But Beauvallon escaped less easily. After he had
flatly denied a statement made by M. de Meynard,
the President committed him for perjury. Shortly
afterwards, D'Ecquevilley was found “Guilty” and
received a well-deserved sentence of ten years'
imprisonment.
Beauvallon's trial for perjury took place in Paris,
on October 8th, 1847. On this occasion, M. Yancia-
comi officiated as President, while the prisoner was
defended by M. Capo de Feuillide, who was rather
a journalist and a man of letters than a trained
lawyer. In reply to the President, the prisoner per-
sisted in denying that he had fired any practice shots
in the garden of the villa at Chaillot. In regard to
that Meynard's story was a mere tissue of lies. When
his examination was concluded, the further proceed-
ings consisted largely in a repetition of the evidence
which had been given at Rouen. The Vicomte
d'Alban was, however, called to show that Beau-
vallon was a fitting associate of D’Ecquevilley, the
sharper. He related how at the Casino at Madrid
he had been present when he was caught with a card
secreted in his sleeve. Devismes, the gunsmith,
deposed that Granier de Cassagnac's pistols were
perfectly clean when they were removed from his


234
AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
shop, but that they were very dirty when they were
returned the next day. Far dirtier, he evidently
wished it to be understood, than he would have
expected to find them after a single exchange of
shots in a duel. It was clear, however, from the
first that the issue of the trial would depend upon
the amount of credence which the jury would be
prepared to attach to M. de Meynard's story. In
confirmation of it, Mlle Valory, his mistress, swore
that at an early hour on the morning of the duel
Beauvallon called and carried off her lover to
Chaillot. Could the accused, inquired the President,
suggest any reason why his former friend should
seek to ruin him by describing a series of events
which had never taken place ? Jealousy was at the
bottom of it, he replied, they were rivals in a love
affair. Both had courted the same married woman
and, in proof of his assertion, he handed in two of
the lady's letters. These were read out in Court
and, although they contained some mention of
Meynard, there was not a word in them which lent
colour to the prisoner's assertion that he harboured
any vindictive feelings towards him. The President,
who was at no pains to conceal his opinion that these
letters should never have been put in, declared that
the incident was closed and that no further reference
to it could be made. It is plain that Meynard
impressed all who heard him with his perfect
sincerity. And, as M. de Thorigny, in his closing
address for the prosecution, explained to the jury,
if they believed him they must necessarily come to
the conclusion that the accused had sworn falsely


AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR 235
at D'Ecquevilley's trial. In the present case they
were not concerned with the conditions laid down
for the duel. It was immaterial to them whether the
prisoner did, or did not, fully understand the stipula-
tions to which his seconds had subscribed. The
question for them to decide was simply whether he
had, or had not, practised with a pistol in the
garden of D’Ecquevilley's house, on the morning of
the duel. The jury when they retired were not long
in making up their minds on that point. After an
absence of ten minutes only, they returned to Court
with a verdict of “ Guilty”; in consequence of
which Beauvallon was sentenced to eight years'
imprisonment.
Beauvallon and D'Ecquevilley were serving their
time in the Conciergerie, when the revolution of
February, 1848, broke out. Like the other inmates
both regained their liberty when the republicans, in
celebration of their victory, threw open the doors
of the prison. D'Ecquevilley disappeared from this
moment and nothing appears to be known about
his subsequent fate. Beauvallon, however, returned
to the family plantations in Guadaloupe and, when
the Second Empire was established, set up a
claim for rehabilitation. Under the new régime-
of which he was a devoted adherent-Granier
de Cassagnac became a person of some im-
portance in the journalistic and political world.
But the influence which he may be presumed to have
exerted on behalf of his brother-in-law was un-
availing. On April 21st, 1855, the Cour de Cassa-
tion rejected his appeal and declared that his


236 AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
conviction for perjury must stand. The decision was
final and after that the public heard no more of
M. de Beauvallon.
The story of this duel throws a curious light upon
what may be termed Bohemian life in Paris and upon
the habits and customs of journalists in the last years
of the reign of the “ Citizen King.” The unfortu-
nate Dujarier, a talented and gifted man, was clearly
of opinion that as manager of La Presse it was a
necessity of his position that he should have been
concerned in an affair of honour. As he told his
friend Dumas, once he had been “out,” they would
leave him in peace. It was under the influence of
some such idea that he went to the party at Les
Frères Provençaux. His refusal to allow his mistress
to accompany him and his own behaviour at the
supper table suggest that he may have desired to
pick a quarrel with Roger de Beauvoir. The
dispute with Beauvallon, during the game of lans-
quenet, was perhaps an accidental affair. Neverthe-
less, he must have known that he was on the staff of
Le Globe and was the brother-in-law of his arch-
enemy, Granier de Cassagnac. In such circum-
stances, unless he wished to provoke a quarrel, it
behoved him to be very careful in his dealings with
him. He had, however, drunk freely and was,
probably in addition, one of those men who invari-
ably display their most unpleasant characteristics at
the card-table. “M. Dujarier,” said Collot, the
proprietor of Les Provençaux, in his evidence, “ was
a most amiable person, but I have always been told
that he was very disagreeable at cards.” Nor do the


AN AFFAIR OF HONOUR
237
facts of the case appear to justify the presumption
that Beauvallon came to the supper with the
deliberate intention of quarrelling. The next day,
however, he doubtless told his brother-in-law and
his friends at Le Globe that Dujarier had not been
very polite to him the previous evening at Les
Provençaux. It may safely be presumed that
Granier de Cassagnac at once realized that his
opportunity for revenge had come. He had
numerous old scores to settle with Dujarier for
which he could not himself demand satisfaction, by
reason of the money question which had arisen
between them. But it is hardly open to doubt that
he urged his brother-in-law to make the dispute at
the card-table a pretext for calling him to strict
account. Thus the unfortunate man was confronted
by the alternative of subscribing to a humiliating
apology or of meeting a skilled antagonist in a duel.
In the subsequent proceedings, the dishonourable
behaviour of Beauvallon and D’Ecquevilley has been
fully related and calls for no further comment.
When Dujarier fell in the Bois de Boulogne with a
bullet through his head he was the victim of a
dastardly conspiracy. Only in irony can it be said
that he met his death in “ an affair of honour."


GEORGE IV AND THE JOCKEY CLUB
T rare intervals a copy of a curious work
entitled Genius Genuine, by Samuel
Chifney, of Newmarket, finds its way
into the sale room. On these occasions,
it is stated in the catalogue that it was suppressed
by the Prince Regent. The fact that it is a scarce
book suggests that this description may be correct
although it contains nothing offensive to His Royal
Highness. It is probable that no great number of
copies were printed, seeing that five guineas was
asked, in the first instance, for the book, which
consists of 170 pages only and is little more than a
pamphlet. It is, however, the only detailed account
which exists of the Escape affair—the business
which in the words of Thackeray “created so much
scandal ” in its day.
Biographers of George IV and turf historians
have all referred to the case and most of them,
including Thackeray himself, have declared that no
blame attaches to His Royal Highness. As regards
his jockey, Samuel Chifney, they are hardly so
unanimous. Writers on turf matters, however,
have, on the whole, shown a strong disposition to
give him the benefit of the doubt. In his memoirs
of George IV, Robert Huish suggests that the
scandal originated with certain highly connected
238


GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB 239
villains whom the Prince justly suspected of cheating
with false dice. Having succeeded in avoiding
actual detection, they in revenge put about stories
that the Prince had been guilty of malpractices on
the turf. These came to the ears of the stewards
of the Jockey Club and influenced their decision,
when they held their inquiry into the running of
Escape. A tale so absurd would not be worth the
trouble of mentioning, were it not that “ Nimrod”
in The Chase, the Turf and the Road, Sir Theodore
Cook in his History of the English Turf, and an
anonymous writer in the Quarterly Review have
emitted the opinion that the facts do not warrant
the unfavourable verdict upon Chifney's proceed-
ings passed by Sir Charles Bunbury and his two
fellow-stewards.
All the great classic races, the Derby, the Oaks,
the St. Leger, the 2000 and the 1000 guineas date
from the reign of George III. Prior to his time, the
sport was the amusement of a comparatively few
gentlemen. But it is only necessary to glance at
the Racing Calendar for 1791, the year of the
Escape scandal, to see how greatly the love of racing
had developed and how numerous were the meetings
held all over England. Many of these have dis-
appeared, but Newmarket, Epsom, Ascot, Chester,
York, Doncaster and several others have survived
with undiminished popularity down to the present
day. A further reference to the same work, the
publishing of which was already a monopoly of the
Weatherbys, shows, however, that the races them-
selves differed considerably from “the events”


240 GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB
which in these days make up the race-card. The
running of two-year-olds had only recently been
sanctioned, handicaps in the modern sense of the
word had no existence and selling races had not
yet been invented. The programme, consequently,
was made up chiefly of sweepstakes and subscrip-
tion stakes for three-year-olds and upwards, supple-
mented, possibly, by a King's Plate of 100 guineas.
Matchmaking, however, was a very popular amuse-
ment and, at Newmarket especially, several "events"
of that kind generally helped to swell " the card”
which to modern eyes seems singularly meagre.
As racing developed, the bookmaker, known as a
“ blackleg” or more usually simply as a “leg "
made his appearance. In earlier days the wagering
was often very heavy, but gentlemen had to carry
it on among themselves and there were obvious
objections to that. Hence the Jockey Club, far from
frowning upon the professional betting man, appears
to have encouraged him to ply his business. The
number of these persons, consequently, increased
rapidly and, at the time when George, Prince of
Wales, was upon the turf, a man could back his
horse to win a large stake under far more favourable
conditions than he could to-day. And in those
times every owner betted, the non-betting owner is
a product of comparatively recent years. But the
ring as an institution brought certain evils in its
train. The regular betting man was not necessarily
a mere mechanical layer of the odds, he was some-
times a backer of horses. Highly convenient as a
gentleman might find it to have at hand a set of


242 GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB
ably a member of the Jockey Club in 1786. In this
same year, however, his pecuniary affairs reached a
crisis and he was obliged to sell his horses. But, when
Parliament agreed to pay his debts and to increase
his income, he returned to the amusement which,
throughout his life, always afforded him the keenest
pleasure. He never was, and, probably, never at-
tempted to be, what is known as a judge of racing.
Questions of weights and distances, the art of
" putting horses together," did not appeal to him.
He was always content to leave those important
matters to his able stable manager, Mr. Warwick
Lake, the brother of the Indian general and
administrator, who, in 1804, was raised to the
peerage under the title of Baron Lake of Delhi and
Leswaree. But, if he troubled little about the
intellectual side of racing, His Royal Highness was
a genuine lover of horses and took the greatest
interest in their training and management. Under
the guidance of Mr. Lake, he rapidly formed a
most successful stable. In 1790, Neale, his trainer,
still described as a “training groom,” had under
his charge at Newmarket a string of some of the
best horses in England. It was a day of very small
stakes, nevertheless, by 1792, his winnings, which
included the Derby of 1788, amounted to over
30,000 guineas. In July, 1790, Samuel Chifney
1 Warwick Lake, the younger brother of the ist Viscount Lake
of Delhi, was a sinecurist, being a Commissioner of the Stamp
Office and a gentleman of the Privy Chamber. He appears to
have been a member of the Jockey Club. He died unmarried in
1821, aged 76.


GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB 243
was retained at an annual fee of 200 guineas to ride
for the stable.
Samuel Chifney was about thirty-eight years of
age and was probably the most accomplished horse-
man of his time. It has been said of him that he
had finer “ hands ” than any jockey that ever lived,
not excepting George Fordham himself. He was,
moreover, the inventor of the “ waiting race," the
art of reserving a horse's powers for a supreme effort
at the finish. Nevertheless, “ the Chifney rush,"
which became a proverbial expression in racing
circles, referred not so much to his methods as to
those of his son, the younger Samuel. In his
career he had been very successful, having won, at
various times, most of the principal races—the
Derby of 1789 on the Duke of Bedford's Sky-
scraper, the Oaks of 1782 on Lord Grosvenor's
Ceres, a performance which he repeated, the follow-
ing year, for the same owner, on Maid of the Oaks,
and, in 1790, he won this race, for the third time, on
the Duke of Bedford's Hypolita. It is probable that
Chifney was in many respects in advance of his
day. But it is impossible to read his book without
coming to the conclusion that he was a singularly
vain and conceited man. His remarks on the subject
of riding and training speak for themselves. “In
1775," he writes, “ I could train horses for running
better than any person I ever yet saw. Riding I
learned myself, and training I learned from Mr.
Richard Prince; and where horses are trained by
dolts that have been brought up under cobblers,
there is much room for me to know more of the


244 GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB
horses being fit or unfit for running, that they train,
than they do themselves, if nothing unfair. I don't
talk to grooms (trainers) about horses; what I have
to say about horses, I say to the noblemen and
gentlemen. This has occasioned me to be very
much hated and abused by those of this profession
and their colleagues."
Very soon after he had engaged himself to the
Prince, Chifney went to York to ride the five-year-
old Escape. This horse was by Mr. Tattersall's
famous stallion, Highfiyer by Herod, and had been
bought from a Mr. Franco by His Royal Highness,
after he had somewhat unexpectedly won the Town
Plate at the Newmarket First October Meeting, of
1788. The following year, he only ran once, when
he was matched for 200 guineas to give 5 lbs. to
Lord Barrymore's Nimble, Across the Flat (11
miles), a task which he accomplished easily. And,
in the Craven week of 1790, he improved upon this
performance by beating, over the Beacon Course
(4 miles), the Duke of Bedford's “ crack ” Grey
Diomed, from which he was receiving 5 lbs. But,
two months later, in the Oatlands Stakes, at Ascot,
he just failed to give 18 lbs. to Mr. Fox's four-year-
old, Seagull. It will be seen, therefore, that up to
this point, when he had been ridden by South or
some other jockey,' his “ form” was very good and
very consistent. His defeat at Ascot should not be
regarded as detracting from the general excellence
of his performances. On that occasion, he was
1 The old calendars do not give the names of the jockeys
unless they were gentlemen riders.





GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB 245
attempting to concede many pounds more than the
weight-for-age scale prescribes to a horse which
was greatly" fancied.” That Seagull was regarded
as exceedingly “smart” is proved by the fact that,
a few weeks later, Lord Barrymore paid 2000
guineas for him, a very high price at that time.
Chifney himself was not at Ascot that year, but he
always maintained that, from all he had heard,
Escape would certainly have won, had his jockey
waited with him, in the earlier part of the race.
At York, Escape was entered in the two Great
Subscription Stakes of 295 guineas which were to
be run on Wednesday and Thursday, August 5th
and 6th. It was not the Prince's intention to attend
the meeting. The year before, both he and the
Duke of York had been present, throughout the
race week, which became famous in Yorkshire
annals for the magnificence of the entertainments
given in honour of the royal brothers. But, on this
occasion, the Prince decided to remain at Brighton,
where Mrs. Fitzherbert was installed, for the
autumn, in her house upon the Steyne. Neverthe-
less, Chifney learnt, before he left Newmarket,
that“ His Royal Highness had taken three thousand
to two thousand, in one bet, that Escape won both
the Great Subscriptions."
Immediately upon his arrival at York, Chifney
saw Casborne, Neale's head-lad apparently, who
had charge of the horse and asked him whether he
were fit to run. Casborne declared himself per-
fectly satisfied with him, but Chifney could not
agree. He does not give his reasons very clearly


GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB 249
At Tattersall's, Mr. Lake informed Chifney that
he had heard from Neale that the Oatlands Stakes
horses were well. The race was a sweepstakes of
100 guineas each for starters and was never worth
less than 2000 guineas. Moreover, it was always a
great betting race and this year the gambling on it
was exceptionally heavy. His Royal Highness had
four horses entered, the seven-year-old, Pegasus,
the two six-year-olds, Escape and Baronet, and the
four-year-old, Smoker. The last named was a mere
pony of a quite different class from the others, and it
is surprising to find that he was entered in such
company. Pegasus, by Eclipse, however, was a
good horse having a month earlier, at the Newmarket
First Spring meeting, won the King's Plate, beating
the Duke of Bedford's Cardock. Baronet, by
Vertumnus by Eclipse, enjoyed a high reputation at
home. The Prince had bought him, early in 1790,
from Sir Walter Vavasour for 1500 guineas, and had
named him Baronet in honour of his former owner.
Soon after the Prince purchased him, he ran un-
backed and unplaced in a sweepstakes at Newmarket.
But with that exception he had not been seen in
public in the royal colours. In the Oatlands Stakes,
however, he had 20 lbs. the best of the weights with
the penalized Escape. The Ascot meeting was to
begin on the 28th, and Mr. Lake proposed to have
a trial at Newmarket, in the course of the next few
days.
Chifney no sooner heard these words than he
objected. It were wiser, he considered, to bring
the horses south at once and try them upon Epsom


250 GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB
Downs. Mr. Lake displayed some annoyance and
a rather acrimonious discussion ensued. Finally,
however, he gave way and it was decided that the
horses should be galloped at Epsom, on June 21st,
over a two-mile course, at the weights which they
would have to carry in the Oatlands. It is impossible
to say whether Chifney had some ulterior motive for
desiring that they should be tried in the vicinity of
London rather than under their trainer's eye, at
Newmarket. In view of what subsequently hap-
pened it is not improbable that he had. In his book,
he says, that it was a matter for Mr. Lake to decide.
He simply gave his opinion and felt it his “ duty to
persist " in it. Unfortunately, he forgets to mention
his reasons for holding that opinion.
At dawn, on June 21st, Chifney, who had spent
the night at Mickleham, met Mr. Lake at the
stables at Epsom, where the horses were standing,
under the charge of Bill Price. He describes this
man as “ His Royal Highness's second training
groom.” As will be seen, however, he also rode
when required and, probably, in this trial had the
mount on either Escape or Baronet. Chifney had
arrived prepared himself to ride Escape. But,
directly he heard of his intention, Mr. Lake sharply
exclaimed, “ No, I meant you to ride Pegasus; but
I don't care what you ride." Chifney said nothing,
but changed his weights and made ready to ride as
Mr. Lake desired. He considered that he had been
subjected to “ unfair usage," but he was afraid “ to
recoil against it," lest it might “put a stop to
[injure ? ) the Prince's business.” As soon as the


GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB 251
light permitted, the horses were started and galloped
with the following result :-
Escape 6 years, gst. rolb. . . . I
Baronet 6 years, 8st. 41b. . . . 2
Pegasus 7 years, 9st. . . . . 3
Smoker 4 years, 7st. . . . . 4
Won by a neck. A bad third. Smoker tailed off.
Mr. Lake it may be assumed was very elated.
The two “ cracks” had simply “ lost ” Pegasus, a
recent winner, and he was justified in anticipating
with confidence that the stable would play a great
part in the Oatlands. In addition, there was the
comfortable prospect that a large stake could be
landed. Escape stood at 30 and Baronet at 20 to 1.
The three-year-old Vermin, who had been second
to Rhadamanthus in the Derby, was all the rage.
He was owned by Lord Foley, the racing confederate
of Mr. Fox, and if they “ fancied ” one in their
stable they “ simply piled on” the money. When
Mr. Lake set out to ride back to London, Chifney,
who proposed to take up his quarters for Ascot at
Egham, accompanied him as far as Sutton. On the
road they discussed the trial and the coming race.
It was Chifney's opinion that, had his jockey not
made the running with him, Escape would have
beaten Baronet by three lengths, at least. He felt
sure that he would run a great horse at Ascot and
asked Mr. Lake to allow him to stand fifty guineas
on him. But he accompanied this request with a
curious stipulation. The next day was a Thursday
and, therefore, a betting day at Tattersall's. Strange
to say, however, he expressed a wish that his money


256 GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB
their carriages or from temporary stands which had
been erected for the race week. These were simply
scaffoldings covered over with canvas and were
spoken of as “ booths.” So numerous were they as
to form“ an absolute town.” In some of them“ 30
or 40 yards in length" were to be seen “as many as
300 females, among them being beauties of the first
distinction. ... On the ground floor and in the
annexed marquees provisions were to be obtained
with every delicacy which the season can afford.”
In truth, concludes the descriptive writer of the
Sporting Magazine, there was " every accommoda-
tion for the peer, the peasant and the lady of quality
or of less rigid virtue.”
On Tuesday morning, June 28th, the first day of
the races, and the day of the Oatlands Stakes,
Chifney went over to Ascot from Egham in good
time. Soon after his arrival, His Royal Highness
accompanied by Mr. Lake rode on to the course.
Chifney placed himself in his way and, directly he
saw him, the Prince called him to his side.“ Sam
Chifney,'” said he, “I shall run Escape and
Baronet only; which do you ride ? Ride which you
please, say which you ride, I am in a hurry.'”
Chifney replied that Baronet was his choice. These,
he says, were the first words which he had as yet
exchanged with the Prince about the Oatlands
horses. The Prince made no comment, but turning
to Mr. Lake bade him tell Bill Price that he was to
ride Escape. He and Mr. Lake then rode on up
the course. Presently, however, His Royal Highness
returned alone and inquired of him why he wished


GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB 257
to ride Baronet, he had been given to understand
that Escape was to be his mount. Chifney replied
that that had been the case in the first instance, but
he now considered that the horse was “ not well to
run." ".Sam Chifney,'” said the Prince, “' Bill
Price and Warwick Lake assure me that Escape is
as well to run as a horse can be.'» "Bill Price,'"
answered Chifney, “‘is an honest fellow,'" but
“' he knows no better.'” He then pressed His
Royal Highness to strike Escape out of the race.
The ground was hard and it were a pity to run the
risk of hurting him. He was a better horse than
Baronet at the weights and he had little doubt that
he was the best horse in England. The Prince did
not enter into this question and soon rode away, but,
later on, Chifney saw him for a third time. On this
occasion, he told him that he had again talked the
matter over with Mr. Lake and with Bill Price and
that both of them continued to assert most positively
that Escape had never been better, “' therefore,
I must run him, Sam Chifney, as I shall win such a
great deal of money if Escape win.” His Royal
Highness next inquired of him what he thought
about Baronet. Chifney replied cautiously that the
field would number eighteen and that some of them
were horses of the highest merit. Nevertheless, he
considered that the horse had a good chance. The
Prince expressed great pleasure at hearing these
words, for he stood to win a large stake on him also,
and, in answer to a question as to the amount, which
Chifney took the liberty of putting, he named the
sum of £17,000 “ as nigh as His Royal Highness


258 GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB
could guess." Chifney then told him that he had
himself backed the horse, a piece of information
which seemed to afford the Prince great satis-
faction.
His Royal Highness saw Baronet saddled and was
present at the scales, when Chifney weighed out,
to wish him good luck. It proved a close race, but,
in the end, Baronet won cleverly from Mr. Barton's
Express with Lord Barrymore's Chanticleer third.
Escape and the favourite, the heavily backed Vermin,
were unplaced. His Royal Highness must have had
an exceedingly good day, inasmuch as he won the
next race, the Prince's Stakes for three-year-old
fillies, over the new mile, with Amelia, by Highflyer.
Nevertheless, Chifney was not the recipient of those
congratulations and civilities which it might have
been expected that the stable manager would lavish
upon him, after so successful an afternoon. On the
contrary, the only words which passed between
them appear to have been of an acrimonious cha-
racter. Seeing him standing outside one of the booths
Chifney went up to him, whereupon Mr. Lake
emitted the opinion that their trial had come out
fairly right, as Escape could have been second in the
Oatlands. Chifney was amazed to hear him give
vent to so false a statement. Escape, as Mr. Lake
knew well, was not what is termed “second best,”
in fact, he had run very badly, and, if he can be
believed, he was moved to reply rather sharply. He
could guess Mr. Lake's motives for making an
assertion which so ill accorded with the facts. It
was clearly his intention to make the Prince believe



THE RACE FOR THE OATLANDS STAKES AT ASCOT IN 1791


258 GE
could go
himself
which
factior
His
prese
to w
in t'
Ex


ORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB 259
had been right in saying that Escape was fit
his race in the Oatlands, Escape was put by
; engagements in the autumn. But before
z to the deplorable affair at Newmarket, it is
ary to mention that Chifney's riding of two
is Royal Highness' horses, Traveller and
ver, at York, gave rise to much talk and
"se criticism. It is unnecessary to go into
Is ; suffice it to say that, when he reached York,
ney pronounced Traveller to be unfit. On the
r hand, he expressed himself satisfied with
eper and wrote to His Royal Highness at Brighton
ising him to back the horse in London. Accord-
to Chifney, lack of condition sufficiently accounts
· Traveller's poor performances, but Creeper's
ter inability to beat the Duke of Hamilton's Walnut
ok him completely by surprise. So confident was
e that he would win, that he betted no less than
oo guineas on him, part of which was put on by
Mr. Lake and part by Vauxhall Clark. When it
came to saddling him, however, he saw at once that
something had happened and that he was seriously
amiss. “ His carcase was swelled in so extraordinary
a manner," in fact, he had never before seen a horse
in the same state. But what could he do? It were
better, he considered, that all of them should lose
their money than that a complaint of keeping the
field waiting at the post should be lodged against
him. He “ dared not go to the betting stand,” to
tell Mr. Lake, and there was nobody at hand to
whom he could entrust such a message. In the race





GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB 259
that he had been right in saying that Escape was fit
to run.
After his race in the Oatlands, Escape was put by
for his engagements in the autumn. But before
coming to the deplorable affair at Newmarket, it is
necessary to mention that Chifney's riding of two
of His Royal Highness' horses, Traveller and
Creeper, at York, gave rise to much talk and
adverse criticism. It is unnecessary to go into
details ; suffice it to say that, when he reached York,
Chifney pronounced Traveller to be unfit. On the
other hand, he expressed himself satisfied with
Creeper and wrote to His Royal Highness at Brighton
advising him to back the horse in London. Accord-
ing to Chifney, lack of condition sufficiently accounts
for Traveller's poor performances, but Creeper's
utter inability to beat the Duke of Hamilton's Walnut
took him completely by surprise. So confident was
he that he would win, that he betted no less than
200 guineas on him, part of which was put on by
Mr. Lake and part by Vauxhall Clark. When it
came to saddling him, however, he saw at once that
something had happened and that he was seriously
amiss. “ His carcase was swelled in so extraordinary
a manner," in fact, he had never before seen a horse
in the same state. But what could he do ? It were
better, he considered, that all of them should lose
their money than that a complaint of keeping the
field waiting at the post should be lodged against
him. He “ dared not go to the betting stand," to
tell Mr. Lake, and there was nobody at hand to
whom he could entrust such a message. In the race


260 GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB
Creeper could scarcely gallop and was, of course,
beaten easily.
Creeper, Chifney asserts most positively, was the
victim of foul play and he accuses Casborne, who
again this year was in charge of the Prince's horses
at York, of poisoning him. Now, in fairness to
Chifney, it should be said that Casborne appears to
have been a rogue. Some few years later, he is said
to have been implicated in an undoubted case of
horse-poisoning and to have lost his situation. But
is it credible, if Creeper were “ swelled " and in the
condition which he describes, that Chifney could
not have found some means of communicating
with Mr. Lake ? It is very improbable that the
saddling paddock at York was at any great distance
from the betting-stand. Doubtless, it was too late
to hedge or to save the stable money. But was it
not his duty, was it not, indeed, essential for the
sake of his own reputation, to call Mr. Lake's
attention to Creeper's extraordinary appearance ?
Can anyone believe that an honest jockey, in such
a situation, would not have contrived to find a
messenger whom he could trust ? Even at the risk
of incurring the anger of the starter, he would surely,
in some way or another, have managed to apprise
Mr. Lake that the horse had suddenly developed a
mysterious ailment.
In 1791, there were more racing days at New-
market than there are now, notwithstanding that
there were only seven meetings, as against eight, at
the present time. A week's racing at Newmarket,
however, then began on Monday and did not


GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB 261
conclude until Saturday. Races were habitually
run on no less than nineteen different courses, the
majority of which are now seldom, if ever, used.
Practically speaking no stands existed, although
contemporary prints prove that some box-shaped
erection was set up at “ the top of the Town” and
Chifney speaks of a “stand-house ” on the Round
Course. Every spectator, whether he were a
gentleman or whether he were “ a leg," had his
hack. He might drive up to the course in a carriage
and might sit in it between the races, but it was on
horseback that he made his bets and watched the
running. In the neighbourhood of the different
courses“ betting posts” were put up, around
which “ the legs” on their hacks would assemble
and form a ring, a scene which Rowlandson has so
graphically portrayed. Very few ladies were to be
seen upon the heath. Indeed, in those years in
which the Prince of Wales so constantly visited
Newmarket, their numbers appear rather to have
diminished than to have increased. Before she ran
away from her first husband, Sir Charles, Lady
Sarah Bunbury, as is shown by her letters, frequently
attended the races and found much to amuse her.
“ Newmarket was charming, all the charming men
were there,” she wrote not long after her marriage.
The Duchess of Bolton, who apparently took a real
interest in racing, is said to have introduced Lord
Barrymore to Newmarket. A few years later, on
the occasion of the great match between Hamble-
1 The Round Course was on what is known as the July Course.
The Stand at the top of the town was called the Duke's Stand.


262 GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB
tonian and Diamond, the Sporting Magazine records
that another Duchess, the Duchess of Gordon, was
present, having driven over from Culford. It is
evident, however, that generally speaking ladies of
quality did not go to Newmarket. And if any of
“ less rigid virtue,” to quote again the words of the
Sporting Magazine, visited the town during a race
week, they, doubtless, kept discreetly in the back-
ground.
The Jockey Club, in 1791, was only beginning to
assume its legislative functions and had not yet
fully acquired the authority which has since been
vested in it. Many of its members, who certainly
numbered over 100, still regarded it simply as a
social club, enabling owners of horses to meet and
discuss their affairs in comfort. It does not appear
to have been unduly exclusive, although a proper
discretion was exercised over the admission of
members. Thus, greatly to his indignation, Dennis
O'Kelly, the owner of Eclipse, never succeeded in
becoming a member, but at his death no opposition
seems to have been raised to the election of his
nephew and heir, Andrew O'Kelly. About 1750,
the need of some headquarters at Newmarket was
felt and the Club, accordingly, leased a plot of
ground on which a house was built, for the accom-
modation of those members who were without
residences of their own in the town. A portion of
this building consisted of a coffee-room, to which
the name of the New Coffee Room was given, and
gentlemen who did not belong to the Jockey Club
were under certain conditions allowed to use it.


GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB 263
Before they could enjoy this privilege, however, they
had to be proposed by a member and to emerge
successfully from the ordeal of a ballot. Later on,
members of White's and Brooks's Clubs were
admitted without election.
In 1792, an anonymous work appeared entitled
The Fockey Club, or a Sketch of the Manners of the
Age. The author was a Mr. Charles Pigott who,
throughout his life, appears to have been known by
the elegant nickname of “the louse.” He had
himself been a member of the Club, but being com-
pletely ruined had been forced to retire from it. In
despite, he brought out his book, which purports to
give an account of the members and to describe
their characteristics. In point of fact it is simply
a scurrilous attack upon a number of men, the
majority of whom had, presumably, been his friends.
For some of his assertions there may be a foundation
of truth, but his book as a whole may be regarded
as utterly worthless. It was an age of loose morals
and of great extravagance and the members of the
Jockey Club, were, doubtless, neither better nor
worse than the generality of men of their class. So
far as racing was concerned, they certainly carried
it on in the true spirit of sport. With few exceptions
they were acute judges of racing and were thoroughly
conversant with the art of training, as it was under-
stood in their day. Some of them, such as the
Dukes of Queensberry and Bedford, Lord Sackville,
Lord Barrymore, Mr. Delmé Radcliffe, and Captain
Vernon were, or had been in their youth, noted
gentlemen riders. The last-named was a great


264 GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB
Newmarket character, and in his obituary notice,
when he died in 1800, at the age of eighty-five, he
is spoken of as “the father of the turf.” In White's
betting book, on the occasion of a wager laid him by
Lord March, the Duke of Queensberry, "Old Q”
that was to be, he is described as “ Captain Dick
Vernon," alias “ Fox," alias “ Jubilee Dicky,” while
Horace Walpole alludes to him as “ Mr. Vernon,
the jockey." His career was remarkable and cer-
tainly goes to prove that his reputation for astuteness
was thoroughly justified. Having begun life as an
ensign in the First Guards, with a modest patrimony
of £3000, he died in possession of a “useful string”
of racehorses and, it is said, a fortune of £100,000."
Sir Charles Bunbury of Great Barton, near
Mildenhall, was, in 1791, the senior steward of the
Jockey Club. It was, undoubtedly, owing to the
proximity of Great Barton to Newmarket that he
held the office for so long that he came to be
described as the Club's “ perpetual President."
He was chiefly responsible for the abolition of the
practice of running races in heats, for the shortening
of the lengths of courses and for the introduction of
two-year-old races. He had a remarkable know-
ledge of all the details of horse-breeding and of
racing and as an owner achieved some notable
successes. The opening line of the famous Receipt
for Making a Jockey, “ In Queensberry's head put
Bunbury's eyes,” is an allusion to the keenness of
1 ist Guards. Richard Vernon, Ensign and Lieutenant 22nd
November, 1744. Lieutenant and Captain 12th January, 1747.
Retired October 30th, 1751.


266 GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB
as
was known as “ the Bloomsbury Gang.” For all
that, it is clear that the young Duke was endowed
with much natural shrewdness, and, if he generally
deferred to “old Dickie's " advice, it is but another
proof of his innate good sense. It is to be regretted
that more of the Prince's friends did not resemble
him.
Among the chief frequenters of Newmarket, at
this time, there is no more displeasing figure than
that of Sir John, “ Sir Jehu," Lade, as he was
nicknamed. Readers of Boswell's famous biography
may remember that he was the ward of Dr. Johnson's
friend, Mr. Thrale, and they may also remember
the Doctor's satirical verses on the occasion of his
coming of age. Ruin overtook him, as Johnson had
foretold, and for the last twenty years of his life-
which was prolonged until 1838—he was a pensioner
upon the royal bounty. The date of his election to
the Jockey Club is not recorded, but Piggott's book
shows that he was a member in 1791. As an owner
of horses he would not appear to have been very
successful, such celebrity as he achieved, in the
sporting world, being due to his skill as a coachman.
It was as “a whip” that he attracted the favourable
notice of His Royal Highness, who seems to have
been so entertained by his eccentricities, that he
made him into a kind of master-of-the-horse. In
deportment and language it was his constant am-
bition, says Raikes, to resemble a groom and it was
only in keeping with his general habits that he
should marry his cook. But Raikes appears to have
taken too charitable a view of the case. It is highly


GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB 267
improbable that Lady Lade ever followed so
respectable a calling. According to popular report,
she was simply a woman of the town, whose title to
fame lay in the intimacy of her relations with Jack
Rann, the highwayman, “sixteen-strings Jack," as
he was called, who ended his career at Tyburn.
After her marriage she acquired considerable pro-
ficiency with “ the ribbons," while in the use of
coarse and vituperative language not even Sir John
himself was her equal. She is said to have challenged
another lady coachman to drive four horses eight
miles across Newmarket Heath, for 500 guineas.
The match for some reason or another never took
place, but, if it be true that it was ever proposed, it
seems to indicate that Lady Lade was in the habit
of accompanying her husband to Newmarket.
In 1788 Richard, 7th Earl of Barrymore, was
introduced to Newmarket by, it is said, the Duchess
of Bolton. He was a young man not yet quite
twenty years of age, the owner of great estates and
the possessor of a large sum of ready money, the
fruits of a long minority. By an arrangement with
the money-lenders he was enabled to embark upon
his career of extravagance and folly before he had
completed his twenty-first year. Unlike Lade, how-
ever, he had considerable personal charm and natural
abilities. It was his misfortune that he loved
notoriety and became his own master at too early an
age. Circumstanced as he was, he was enabled to
devote his short existence--for he was killed by the
accidental discharge of a gun in 1793-exclusively
to racing and race riding, to the prize ring, which he


268 GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB
brought into fashion, and to his passion for acting
and theatricals. The profusion of his entertain-
ments at Wargrave, where he built himself a private
theatre, and the stories which were told of his
practical jokes and pugilistic encounters made him
the talk of the town, and won for him the celebrity
which he prized so highly. His friendship with the
Prince of Wales began early in his career, and
developed into the closest intimacy. Whether or
not he was present at Newmarket, on the memorable
occasion when Égalité d'Orleans, greatly to his
indignation, was immersed in a fish-pond, he was
certainly associated with the Prince in many other
diversions of that kind. The nicknames of the
Barry family, which are said to have been invented
by the Prince, are sufficiently curious to bear
reproduction. Barrymore himself was called “ Hell-
gate” and his lame brother, Henry, afterwards
the 8th Earl, “ Cripplegate.” On another brother,
Augustus, who was a clergyman, the sobriquet of
“ Newgate ” was bestowed, apparently, because he
had not as yet been an inmate of that gaol, whilst
their sister Caroline, the Comtesse de Melfort, as
she became on her marriage, was known by the,
possibly, appropriate name of " Billingsgate."
When he met with his fatal accident, Barrymore,
although he was not yet twenty-five years of age, was
practically a ruined man. According to the Sporting
Magazine, however, he had not been a loser upon
the turf, having quickly mastered the inticacies of
racing, and nobody being cleverer than he at“putting
horses together.” Unfortunately, at Newmarket,


GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB 269
his winnings upon the course were generally dissi-
pated at night at the card-table. That Barrymore
was a gainer by his racing transactions may well be
doubted, although he unquestionably made some
successful matches. Nevertheless, it is very possible
that he lost more at cards than he did by his betting-
book. At Newmarket, the wilder spirits might find
occasional relaxation in hoaxes and practical jokes,
but it was to play that their evenings were mainly
devoted. Buck Whaley records the result of a visit
to the town, during a race week, and of his introduc-
tion to the Prince and his friends. Irrespective of
betting, it cost him £8000, the greater part of which
was lost to the Duke of York, who was a far more
inveterate gambler than his brother, the Prince of
Wales.
At the First October meeting, Escape was matched
against Grey Diomed for 1000 guineas, over the
Beacon Course (4 miles). The year before, in
receipt of 5 lbs. he had, it will be remembered,
beaten the Duke of Bedford's horse, but he had now
to meet him at even weights. Chifney, when he was
informed of the conditions, expressed the greatest
confidence in Escape's ability to win, and recom-
mended the Prince to back him heavily. However,
not long before the day of the race, Escape was
galloped across the Flat (14 miles) with two stable
companions, Don Quixote and Lance, and was beaten
easily. On this occasion, Chifney rode Don Quixote,
but he does not mention, possibly he did not know,
the weights which the different horses carried. Be
that as it may, this trial, in his opinion, showed that


GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB 271
and again reverted to the subject, he gave way. As
it was “ his particular wish,” he told Mr. Lake, that
he should have a bet, he would ask him to put him
twenty guineas on Escape, on whom, at the betting-
post, odds of 6 to 4 were being laid. But he only
consented “to oblige him," and not because he
“ fancied " the horse's chance. He sincerely hoped
that he would make that quite clear to His Royal
Highness.
According to Chifney's account of the match,
Escape proved the stouter horse and contrived, after
a severe race, to win, almost in the last stride, by a
head. As he was returning from the scales, the
Prince rode up to him and “ did me the very high
honour of taking me by the hand, saying, “Sam
Chifney, no person but you shall ride for me.'”
Pleased and flattered as he was by His Royal
Highness's condescension, his words caused Chifney
some uneasiness. It was clear to him that people had
been talking about him and that they had been
endeavouring to prejudice the Prince against him.
It had gone hard with him, he had reason to fear,
had he failed to bring Escape home a winner. More-
over, Mr. Lake's anxiety that he should have a bet
was inexplicable and disquieting. Now, if Chifney's
story of the trial be true, it is evident that there were
circumstances connected with it which were not
disclosed to him. It is possible that Escape's gallop
with his two stable companions was not the trial
which Chifney believed it to have been. Mr. Lake's
unshaken confidence in the horse's ability to win his
match, unquestionably, suggests that he attached no


272 GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB
importance to what took place that morning. More
than that it is impossible to say. Chifney's narrative
has been reproduced, as he tells it, and the reader
must draw his own conclusions. But this much
appears certain. Mr. Lake was growing more and
more suspicious of the stable jockey.
Two days later, on October 5th, Escape and Grey
Diomed fought out their battle again in a Subscrip-
tion Stakes, over the same course and at the same
weights. On this occasion, Chifney was able to tell,
when still a long way from“ home," that Escape had
the race in hand. He did not, however, allow him
to win easily, but was satisfied to let him secure the
verdict by so narrow a margin that the judge's
decision was by“ a head only.” After weighing in,
he was perfectly frank with Mr. Lake, assuring him
that he could now safely match Escape to give 5 lbs.
and even more to Grey Diomed. Their horse was,
he was confident, “ coming on" every day.
On the evening of October 19th, the Wednesday
of the Second October Meeting, Chifney was in
Mrs. Brett's bar, in company with his friend, Vaux-
hall Clark, and several other persons. Presently, a
man came in who was furnished with “ the card ” of
the next day's racing, which he proceeded to read
over. It was in this manner, relates Chifney, that
he learnt that Escape had been entered for a sweep-
stakes to be run on the morrow. The news came as
a surprise to him and caused him “ an unpleasant
sensation, for I was fearful that he should be
beaten, being doubtful he was not quite fit to run."
When he went out, Vauxhall Clark followed him,


GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB 273
and, as they walked along, inquired whether Escape
would win. Undoubtedly, if he were well, was the
reply. “Why, is he not well ? '" asked Clark.
"'Yes,'” said Chifney, “' he is well, or what they
are pleased to call well, otherwise the Prince would
not let him be entered ; but I mean if he be well to
run, he will win, but if he be not well to run he is
likely to be beaten, for there is a strong field against
him.'” In a footnote, Chifney adds these words,
“I did not think it little or none improper of Mr.
Clark asking me this, as the Prince knowing he some-
times betted for me, and a public horse like this.”
• This explanation appears almost superfluous. If
this were all that passed between them, Chifney has
no need to excuse himself.
The next morning, October 20th, when he arrived
upon the heath, His Royal Highness, who was on
horseback, bade him approach and said, “"Sam
Chifney, Escape is sure of winning to-day, is not
he ? '» Chifney, however, expressed some doubts
and advised the Prince not to back him, “ . for the
odds are likely to be high upon him ; that His Royal
Highness might lose a deal of money to winning
very little.'” At these words, His Royal Highness
“turned short ” from him saying, “' No, I shall
not bet upon him, but he is sure of winning.'”
Nothing more was said, as the Prince immediately
rode away with some gentlemen in the direction of
the “ turn of the lands.” i Chifney, however,
1 This conversation evidently took place at the “ top of the
town," H.R.H. riding away towards the site of the present
Rowley Mile Stand.


274 GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB
considered the matter anxiously. It had been his
intention to tell His Royal Highness that, in his
opinion, Escape was not fit to run. For all that, he
was so good a horse that he might win, although he
had to meet two opponents of good class in Coriander
and Skylark. In that event, if he had expressed
doubts about his condition, he would certainly “be
represented by some as mischievous.” He was
greatly troubled and knew not what to do; “My
limbs went from me in so extraordinary a manner,
I never felt any thing equal to it before.” When the
hour for the race drew near, the Prince called him
up to the carriage in which he was sitting with Lord
Barrymore, and said to him," Sam Chifney, I wish
you to make very strong play with Escape, but I will
not compel you ; providing there should be good
play made by any other horse, you may wait with
Escape. . .. I hope you, Sam Chifney, perfectly
understand.'” His Royal Highness then ordered the
carriage to drive to the betting-post.
While he had been talking, “ Mr. Lake had been
standing with his horse in his hand, near to the
carriage ” and, when the Prince went away, he asked
him whether he had received any orders. He
answered that he had and repeated them, but did not
comment upon them. Only, when Mr. Lake asked
him whether he agreed with them, did he reply that
he thought that they were wrong. “ If I had my life
depending upon Escape's winning to-day,'” he told
Mr. Lake, “'I should wish Escape to wait by all
means, but as His Royal Highness told me he should
not bet upon him, and as I am so often contradicting


GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB 275
my orders, and as I was not asked my opinion, I
thought it would be impertinent of me to offer to
give His Royal Highness any more trouble.'” To
this Mr. Lake replied, “ “ Well, Chifney, I think, as
you do, that Escape had better wait, so you will
wait, at all events; and I see the Princes' carriage ;
I will go immediately and make everything perfectly
pleasant.'” It will be observed that Chifney never
conveyed the smallest hint to Mr. Lake that Escape
was not in a proper condition to run.
After these matters had been settled, Chifney went
to superintend the saddling of Escape and, while he
was thus engaged, inquired, presumably either of
Neale, the trainer, or of his head-lad, whether the
horse had had a sweat since he last ran. If he can
be believed, he was told that he had had nothing of
that kind, since his race with Grey Diomed, a fort-
night ago. At the betting-post, however, he was a
warm favourite, “the legs ” asking for odds of
2 to i about him, while offering to lay 4 and 5 to 1
against his chief opponents, Mr. Dawson's Coriander
and Lord Grosvenor's Skylark. The race, which
was over the two-mile course, known as “ Ditch-in,"
was, in its earlier stages, run slowly and, it was only
when the “ turn of the lands" i was reached that
the pace became severe. At this point, Chifney
discovered that it was not in Escape's power to go
1 The course known as “ Ditch-in” starts at the ditch and
finishes at “the top of the town.” The “turn of the lands"
would be reached almost directly after passing the present Rowley
Mile Stand, and would be about half a mile, therefore, from the
winning post.


276 GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
up to Skylark and Coriander. Press him as he
might, he found that he could not bring him level
with the two leading horses, and he, accordingly,
dropped his hands and took no further part in the
race, which was won by Coriander, Skylark being
placed second and Lord Clermont's Pipator third.
Scarcely had he pulled Escape into a walk, before
the Prince rode up, exclaiming that he had thrown
the race away, through not following his instructions,
In reply, Chifney expressed a hope that he had not
lost his money. “No,'” said the Prince, “'I
have not lost a stiver, but that don't argue, for
Escape certainly would have won, if you had made
strong play with him as I desired you ; and I do tell
you, Sam Chifney, that I am a better jockey than
Mr. Lake and you both.'” Nothing more was said,
at the time, but, while he was changing his clothes,
Chifney received a message that His Royal Highness
wished to see him. He found him sitting on his
horse in company with Mr. Lake, near " the farther
winning-post of the Beacon Course." Without
stretching the imagination too far, it seems reason-
able to suppose that Mr. Lake had been explaining
to the Prince that he could not account for Escape's
defeat, and that he must, in consequence, beg him
to question Chifney sharply. Neale, the trainer, was
perfectly satisfied that the horse was well and fit to
run. Nevertheless, he had succumbed easily to the
five-year-old, Coriander, to whom he was merely
conceding 4 lbs. for the difference in their ages.
And about Coriander's form no mistake could be
made. Only a fortnight before, on October 6th,
-
-
-
-
.
.
-
-
-
-


278 GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB
losing six or seven hundred ; and I wish you to back
him, Mr. Lake, and I will back him. Had Escape
not run to-day, I should not have wished your
Royal Highness to back him to-morrow, for this
sharp rally to-day will not fatigue him ; it has caused
a good perspiration, so as to lighten him of his flesh,
and opened his pores, that he will run both faster
and longer to-morrow.'”
On the following day, Friday, October 21st, the
Prince came up to Chifney on the Round Course,
near “the gap," and explained how he wished
Escape to be ridden. As his orders, on this occasion,
were precisely the same as those which he had given
him for the race the day before, they need not be
repeated. After he had said all he had to say and had
concluded with the words “God bless you,"
Chifney expressed a hope that His Royal Highness
would back the horse. " Yes, I will,'” he called
out, as he rode away. Chifney then went to the
“Round Course Stand-house and waited till Mr.
Lake came down." Having informed him of the
orders which he had received from the Prince, he
told him that he would “thank him” to put him
twenty guineas on Escape. "No,'” replied Mr.
Lake, “ . I will have nothing to do with it, there are
so many unpleasant things happen.'” It might
be supposed that Chifney would indignantly demand
some explanation of his words. Apparently, how-
ever, he made no observation of any kind. Accord-
ing to his account, he was chiefly concerned to think
that, owing to Mr. Lake's refusal to bet for him, he
might be unable to fulfil his promise to His Royal


GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB 281
most unpopular. There was no hostile demonstra-
tion. Under the conditions which then existed at
Newmarket, no scene of that description could, in
any circumstances, take place. It may be, however,
that the amazement, amounting almost to consterna-
tion, which the Prince saw depicted upon the faces
of his friends was as expressive as the roar of an
angry mob upon a provincial racecourse. And if he
failed to realize the seriousness of the situation from
the demeanour of those around him, its full gravity
must have been brought home to him by Mr. Lake's
first words, as he came up : “ I give your Royal
Highness joy, but I am sorry the horse has won ; I
would sooner have given a hundred guineas.' ” At
the same time, Neale, the trainer, rode “ amongst
the noblemen and gentlemen, saying that he hoped
their eyes were open now; that it was plain enough
now that he was robbed of forty guineas that he had
betted yesterday upon Escape.” Before he left the
scales, Chifney was aware that serious trouble was in
store for him. The Prince sent for him immediately,
and repeated Mr. Lake's words to him, adding that he
would have to explain them. “ Yes, your Royal
Highness,'” replied Chifney, “ it is very necessary
that he should explain himself.'”. Nothing more,
however, was said on the subject that afternoon.
The next morning, Chifney was summoned to
attend upon His Royal Highness, while he was still
in his dressing-room. It is evident that Sir Charles
Bunbury, the evening before, had had a serious talk
with the Prince. It may be presumed that he told
him that he and his fellow-stewards were very


282 GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB
suspicious of his jockey, not only by reason of the
inconsistencies in Escape's running, but because
of certain other circumstances which had come to
their knowledge. The nature of some, at least, of
this information can be deduced from Chifney's
account of what passed, when His Royal Highness
rejoined him in the room to which he had been
conducted, after he had left the royal dressing-room.
Beginning with the words, “ I have sent for you
upon very unpleasant business,' " the Prince went
straight to the point. He had been informed that,
after the race two days ago in which Escape had been
beaten, Chifney had received 600 or 700 guineas, and
that yesterday he had won very much the same sum,
in the race in which he had been successful. In both
these transactions Vauxhall Clark was said to have
been his agent. And there was another affair in
which he had been concerned with him. “'I am
told, Sam Chifney,'" said the Prince, “' that you
were arrested, at Ascot Heath, for £300, and that
Vauxhall Clark paid the money for you.'” It was
the first he had heard of any intervention by Mr.
Clark on his behalf, he assured His Royal Highness.
There was not a word of truth in the whole story.
Nor was there any foundation for the charge that he
had won a large sum of money through Escape
losing his race. He had not profited by his defeat
to the extent of a shilling, and in the second race his
only bet had been one of twenty guineas, which was
made for him by Mr. Vauxhall Clark. If that were
so, asked the Prince, would he consent to take an
affidavit to that effect ? He would do so readily,


284 GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB
parted from Sir Charles and rode towards the
betting-ring, where he sat upon his horse deep in
thought for a few minutes. Presently, however, he
addressed Chifney saying, “ 'Sam Chifney, this
business should be explained.'” “'Your Royal
Highness."" answered Chifney, " I don't know
how to explain it.'” Shortly afterwards, before
racing was concluded, the Prince rode off the heath
and returned to town, and Chifney, following his
example, went home.
It has already been pointed out that the stewards,
in 1791, had not the authority which they have
since acquired. A jockey was simply a servant of
his employer and was not, as now, a person who, in
order to ride, must be in possession of a licence
which the stewards could revoke at any time It is
true that the stewards could then disqualify a man
who disobeyed their rules from riding at Newmarket,
but, in theory at least, their jurisdiction over him
did not extend beyond that. In practice, however,
their powers were, doubtless, considerably more
extensive. Nearly all the principal owners belonged
to the Jockey Club and, should the stewards pro-
nounce a rider to have been guilty of serious mal-
practices, few, if any, members of the Club would
“ put him up,” and he would, in consequence, be
deprived of his livelihood. It will be observed
that Chifney was not summoned to appear before
the stewards, but was asked whether he would
consent to submit himself for examination.
The date of Chifney's appearance before the
stewards, Sir Charles Bunbury, Mr. Panton and


GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB 285
Mr. Ralph Dutton, is not recorded, but it probably
took place about ten days later, during the Houghton
meeting. According to him, the business was very
quickly concluded. In compliance with his promise
to the Prince, he had embodied his statements,
respecting his bets and his relations with Vauxhall
Clark, in an affidavit which the stewards had before
them. So long as Sir Charles confined his inquiries
to the matter contained in that document, he made
no objection to answering them. But, when he pro-
ceeded to question him about his riding and to ask
why he had waited with Escape, he appears to have
adopted a tone which was little short of insolent.
Had he, he explains, gone fully into his reasons for
riding Escape as he did, he had been obliged to
speak of private trials and other matters which Sir
Charles had no right to expect him to divulge. Now,
admitting for the sake of argument, that the relative
merits of Escape and Baronet were so important a
stable secret that it could not be revealed, even on
such an occasion as this, it was plainly unnecessary
to enter into that matter at all, in order to answer
Sir Charles's question. And if it were true, as
Chifney asserts, that Escape was unfit to run and
that he was, in consequence, obliged to treat him
tenderly, why should it have been “ improper " to
disclose the fact to the stewards, who had been
instructed by the Prince, his master, to inquire
fully into all the circumstances of the case ? The
futility of Chifney's excuses is so transparent that
the matter need be pursued no further. The
stewards, it may be assumed, finding that Chifney


286 GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB
was not prepared to answer them frankly, and being
in no mood to bandy words with him, simply drew
their own conclusions from his attitude and dis-
missed him from their presence.
Not long afterwards, Chifney received a letter
from Sir John Lade desiring him to wait upon the
Prince at Carlton House. His Royal Highness,
when he presented himself before him, told him that
Sir Charles Bunbury had been with him and had
communicated to him the result of the inquiry which
he and his fellow-stewards had held at Newmarket.
In regard to Chifney's riding of Escape, the conclu-
sion to which they had come was so unfavourable
that they were constrained to inform him that, if he
should continue to employ him, no gentleman would
run his horse against him. He had protested strongly
against this verdict and had loudly proclaimed his
belief in Chifney's honesty, but nothing which he
could say appeared to make any impression upon
Sir Charles. In these circumstances, as he was
resolved not to sacrifice his jockey, he had no
alternative but to sell his horses and to retire from
the turf. A day or two later, Chifney was summoned
to Sir John Lade's house in Piccadilly, where His
Royal Highness, in the presence of Sir John and of
Mr. F. C. Phillips, “ put his hand upon his bosom
and said, that he believed that Sam Chifney had been
to him very honest” and that he wished him to know
that he proposed to continue his salary of 200
guineas a year for his life. “ I cannot,'” he
explained, “' give it for your life, Sam Chifney, I
can only give it for my own life.'"


GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB 287
No official record exists of the inquiry' and,
were it not for Chifney's book, it would be im-
possible to form any opinion about the justice of the
verdict. But, after a perusal of it, no impartial
person can think that the stewards could have
arrived at any other conclusion. No man ever went
into the witness-box and convicted himself out of
his own mouth more effectually than Chifney in
Genius Genuine. How damning is the evidence
which he supplies against himself at almost every
page. What an extraordinary story he tells of
Escape's trial for the Oatlands. Can he seriously
expect to be believed when he says that he could
perceive at a glance, on entering his box at Ascot,
that the horse was amiss. Yet neither Mr. Lake
nor Bill Price could see that anything was wrong
with him. On the contrary, they were perfectly
satisfied that he had never been better in his life.
And if he honestly believed that all was not well
with the horse, why did he not communicate his
fears to Bill Price, who was in charge of him, and
inform Mr. Lake ? It is true that he wrote to that
gentleman, the next day, but it was only for the
purpose of telling him that he no longer desired to
stand any money on Escape. He did not, however,
ask him to back Baronet for him, but entrusted that
business to his friend, Vauxhall Clark. Would it be
assuming too much to suggest that Escape in the
Oatlands was sacrificed to this man's betting-book ?
1 I take this opportunity of thanking Mr. Weatherby for the
great courtesy with which he informed me that no records exist
of inquiries, etc., in these early days.


288 GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB
It seems highly probable that, inspired by Chifney,
he had “ got on ” to Baronet at an early date.
Chifney, it will not have been forgotten, purposed
himself to ride Escape in his trial, but owing to Mr.
Lake's objections had to forgo his intention. Once
Escape had won the gallop, he would naturally be
Chifney's mount in the race itself, while Baronet,
the horse which carried his and his friend's money,
would suffer the disadvantage that some inferior
jockey would ride him. It is hardly possible to
doubt that it was to provide himself with a plausible
reason for electing to ride Baronet that he pretended
that Escape was amiss. Mr. Lake, it will be remem-
bered, greatly to Chifney's indignation, maintained
that Escape, with Bill Price on his back, ran remark-
ably well in the Oatlands and could have been close
up at the finish. Without doubt, he was right. It is
probable that at Ascot Chifney himself could have
won on either Escape or Baronet.
Neale, Chifney contends, was incapable of pre-
paring a horse to run on some particular day. It
necessarily happened, therefore, that Escape being
often short of a gallop ran much better on his second
appearance than he did on his first. This, he main-
tains, is the simple and natural explanation of how
he came to be beat, on October 20th, and to win the
following day. In truth, what occurred during the
Second October Meeting was but a repetition of
what took place a fortnight earlier. In the match
on October 3rd, Escape could only just manage to
beat Grey Diomed by a head. Nevertheless, forty-
eight hours later, he met him at the same weights


GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB 289
and defeated him easily, although Chifney, not
wishing to expose him unnecessarily, made it appear
that the finish was a close one. This argument
would be deserving of very serious consideration,
were it not that Chifney's story that Escape “ came
on ” so much in the interval between his first and
second race with Grey Diomed rests entirely upon
his own word. In regard to the events of October
20th and 21st, Chifney maintains that Escape had
not had a sweating gallop since his race on October
5th. He personally was aware of the true state of
the case, or, at least, strongly suspected it, when, on
the evening of the 19th, he had his conversation
with Vauxhall Clark in the public-house. Moreover,
any doubts which he had on the subject were set at
rest by the answer which he received to the question
which he put to Neale, or to whoever had charge of
the horse, when he was saddling him before the race.
It is, however, quite impossible to believe that he
was told, as he says he was, that since his race with
Grey Diomed Escape had done no real work. While
the Prince's horses were under the care of Neale, of
whom Chifney speaks so contemptuously, they won
an unusual number of races. Mr. Lake, moreover,
exercised a close supervision over the stable and
Chifney does not suggest that he was a fool,
although he disliked him greatly. Nevertheless, he
wishes it to be believed that they were both so
ignorant of the rudiments of training that they sent
Escape to the post in an unfit condition, and were
surprised to see him beaten. Indeed, Neale betted
forty guineas of his own money upon this horse


290 GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB
which, according to Chifney, he knew had not had
a good gallop for the past fortnight. The suggestion
is absurd and does not deserve to be considered
seriously.
There can be no reasonable doubt that Chifney
deliberately lost the race on Escape on October
20th. Sir Charles Bunbury had, doubtless, pene-
trated into the innermost heart of the business when
he warned the Prince of Wales that his jockey was
under a money obligation to Mr. Vauxhall Clark.
Extravagance was a family failing of the Chifneys,
and the elder Samuel was as improvident as his
sons. It is highly probable that he was more or
less in the power of this gentleman who had "made
betting a science.” As has happened in similar
cases, it was the astute wire-puller who prospered
and grew rich, while his unfortunate tool was brought
to ruin and disgrace. And it may be that poor
Chifney was only half a rogue. It was clearly very
repugnant to him that His Royal Highness, to whom
he appears to have been genuinely attached, should
put his money on a horse which was not intended to
win. On such occasions, he would generally find
some pretext for persuading him to abstain from
betting. It is probable that, when he first rode
Escape at York, it had been arranged that he was
not to win the Great Subscription Stakes. It was
too late to prevent His Royal Highness from backing
him, but by impressing upon Mr. Lake that the
horse was amiss he succeeded in inducing him to
lay off nearly the whole of the Prince's money.
Chifney's reputation never recovered from the


292 GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB
ing to note, Vauxhall Clark's daughter. Like his
brother, the younger Samuel, the jockey, extrava-
gance was his undoing and, when he died, he was
in very straitened circumstances. Meanwhile, about
1806, the elder Chifney finally quitted Newmarket
and took up his abode in London, where he was
almost immediately arrested for a debt of £300, at
the suit of Latchford, the saddler. He did not,
however, long survive the loss of his liberty. The
following year he died in great poverty and misery
within the Rules of the Fleet.
By the end of the year 1792, Escape and all the
Prince's horses had been sold and his connection
with racing came to an end, for the time being.
Some eight years later, however, he again began to
form a stable and, from about 1800 onwards, he
never ceased to own and to run horses. But,
although he thus returned to the turf, it was with the
fixed determination of never entering a horse at
Newmarket or of setting foot upon the heath. And
both as Prince Regent and as King he always
adhered to this resolution, notwithstanding that the
Jockey Club petitioned him to reconsider his
decision. His motives for adopting this course can
only be surmised. Was he to the day of his death
convinced of Chifney's integrity and did he, in
consequence, regard himself as bound to make some
1 Sporting Magazine, XXVI, p. 235. The petition was drawn
up after a full meeting of the Club at Brighton, during the
August meeting of 1805. It contained the words “the members
deeply regretting your absence from Newmarket earnestly en-
treat the affair may be buried in oblivion."


GEORGE IV & THE JOCKEY CLUB 293
protest against an unjust verdict ? Was he simply
affronted that the stewards, without consulting him,
should have passed an unfavourable judgment upon
his jockey? These and other questions can be
asked, but no answer can be returned to them.
Without doubt, it was an unfortunate decision, be
the reasons for it what they may. It gave rise to
the legend, which still survives, that as Prince of
Wales he was involved in his jockey's malpractices
and was warned off Newmarket Heath. It is said
that as George IV, in the course of a journey, he
once drove rapidly through the town. What
thoughts of old days must the sight of the Heath
and the High Street have evoked. What recollec-
tions it must have conjured up of good horses that
were gone and of friends and associates who were
no more, of Bedford and Égalité, of Charles James
Fox and Barrymore.
THE END


INDEX
ADAMS, Samuel Thomas, Coroner | Bertrand, Arthur, 198, 199, 200,
of the King's Household,
210, 211, 216, 222, 225,
159, 163, 164, 172, 174, 185
226, 227
Alban, Vicomte d', 233
Bertrand, Napoleon, 199
Albert, Mme, 199, 200
Biron, Robert John, Q.C., 44
Amelia, race-horse, 258
&n.
Annual Register, The, 136
Biron, Sir Chartres, 44 n.
Ascot Races, 239, 244, 245, 249. Black Act, The, 241
251, 254, 255, 256 an. Boigne, Charles de, 198, 199, 200,
Atkinson, T. Jepson, 64
201, 206, 207, 209, 210,
Authentic Records of the Court of
212, 215, 222, 225, 226, 228
England .. : 181-4, 186-8 Bolton, Duchess of, 261, 267
Bravo, Charles Delaunay Turner,
BAKER, Valentine, 118
1, 2 sqq.
Balzac, Honoré de, 215
Bravo, Joseph, 3, 5, 7, 13-14, 24,
Baronet, race-horse, 249, 250, 251,
30, 31, 33, 34, 44, 45 599.,
253, 256, 257, 258, 277, 287,
65, 70, 90
288
Bravo, Mrs. Charles, née Camp-
Barry, Hon. and Rev. Augustus, bell, formerly Mrs. Ricardo,
268
3 599., 77 599., 88, 89
Barrymore, Henry. 8th Earl Bravo, Mrs. Joseph, 6, 8, 24, 34.
of, 268
58, 67, 69, 96
Barrymore, Richard, 7th Earl of, Brooks's, 155
244, 245, 258, 261, 263, Brooks, Mr., 5, 77, 83-4, 97
267-9, 279, 293
Brooks, Mr., 180
Barton, Mr., 258
Brown, Meredith, 65
Beacon Course, Newmarket, 269 Bugeaud, Marshal, 215
sqq., 276
Bunbury, Lady Sarah, 261
Beauvallon, Rosamond de, 192-3, Bunbury, Sir Charles, 239, 261,
196, 197, 200, 201, 202,
264-5, 281, 283–4, 286, 290
203, 204, 206 sqq., 216 399., Burdett, Sir Francis, 160 & n., 161
223, 225, 226, 227, 228, 229 Buscot Park, Berkshire, 3, 8, 67
Beauvoir, Roger de, 190-I, 194. Bushell, Amelia, 24, 30, 58
195, 196, 198, 199, 203-4, Byron, Lord, 291
236
Bedford, Francis, 5th Duke of, CAMBRIDGE, H.R.H. the Duke of,
243, 244, 247, 249, 263,
174, 175
265-6, 269, 293
Campbell, Florence, see Bravo,
Bedford, Mr., Coroner, 120, 135
Mrs. Charles
Bell, Miss Ann Maria, 24, 27, 59 Campbell, Mrs., 34, 65 sqq., 78,
Bell, Royes, 20, 21, 22, 24, 28,
80, 81
32, 47, 49, 50-1, 52, 72, 92 Campbell, Robert, 3, 34, 53, 66
Bentinck, Lord George, 241
Campbell, William, 34, 65
Berard, M. de, 221, 225
Canton, Dr., 114, 117, 122, 129
Berryer, Antoine, 218, 229
Capo de Feuillide, M., 233
295


296
INDEX
Cardock, race-horse, 249
Denman, Sir Thomas, 186 & .
Caroline, Queen, 180, 186 n., 187 Derby, the, 239, 242, 243, 251, 265
Carrel, Armand, 192
Despard, Colonel, 161
Carter, Mr., Coroner, 28-9, 32-3, | Devismes, 206, 210, 218, 220, 221,
35, 43, 44, 63, 81, 86-7
233-4
Casborne, 245, 246, 260
Devonshire, Duke of, 155
Ceres, race-horse, 243
Diamond, race-horse, 262
Chanticleer, race-horse, 258, 279, Dill, Dr., 73
280
“Ditch-in," race-course, 275&n.
Chase, The, the Turf and the Road, Doncaster Races, 239
by " Nimrod," 239
Don Quixote, race-horse, 269
Chester Races, 239
Dubskelper, race-horse, 246
Chifney, Samuel, 238, 241, 242-3 Dujarier, Alexandre Henri, 191,
sqq., passim
192, 193 sqq., 208 sqq.,
Chifney, Samuel, junior, 243, 292
passim
Chifney, William, 291-2
Dujarier, Mme, 218, 232
Church, Mr., 175-6
Dumas, Alexandre, 195, 201 599.,
Clark, Inspector, 31, 371 56
206, 208, 213, 214, 215,
Clark, Vauxhall, 253–4, 259, 272–3,
219, 224, 226
279, 282–3, 289, 290, 292 Dumas, fils, 190, 203
Clay, Mr., 106–7, 120
Dutton, Ralph, 265, 285
Clermont, Lord, 276
Duval, Léon, 218, 228, 232
Clifford, Henry, 163 &n.
Cochrane, Admiral Lord, 161 &n. ECLIPSE, stallion, 249, 254, 262
Cockburn, Sir Alexander, 43 &n. Ellenborough, Lord, 158 & H., 180
Collot, M., 197, 236
181, 183, 185
Combe, Hervey, 155
Epsom Races, 239
Cook, Sir Theodore, 239
Escape, race-horse, 238, 239, 244,
Cookson, Mr., 291
245, 246, 247, 248, 249,
Coriander, race-horse, 274, 275-7,
250–3, 256-9, 269, 270
279
sqq., 287 sqq., 292
Cox, Mrs. Jane Cannon, 5, 6, 10 Express, race-horse, 258
sqq., 34, 37, 38-9, 46, 54,
62, 63, 64, 65, 67, 68 sqq., FIELD, Mr. Justice, 43 & n.
80, 81, 86, 88, 89, 90, 91 Fitzherbert, Mrs., 245
s99., 100-1, 103
Flers, Comte de, 198, 200-1, 207,
Craven meeting, 244, 247
225, 228, 229
Creeper, race-horse, 259-60
Foley, Lord, 251, 265
Crighton, Sergeant, 153, 154, 156, Follet, Sir William Webb,
165-6, 173
185 &n.
Cross, Lord, 36
Fordham, George, 243
Cumberland, H.R.H., Ernest Fox, Charles James, 244, 248,
Augustus, Duke of, later, 251, 265, 293
King of Hanover, 140 sqq. Franco, Mr., 244
Cumberland, H.R.H., Henry Fred François, M., 218
erick, Duke of, 140, 188
Cumberland, H.R.H., William GASCOIGNE, 252
Augustus, Duke of, 140, 254 Genius Genuine, by Samuel Chi-
ney, 238, 287
DAILY TELEGRAPH, The, 35-6, 37, George IV (see also Wales, Prince
119, 137
of), 187, 238, 240-2, 244-6,
Davenhall, Sergeant, 153
248, 250, 252, 254, 256-61,
Dawson, Daniel, 241, 275
268 sqq., 273 sqq., 289 599.
D'Ecquevilley, Vicomte de, 198, Girardin, Emile de, 191 & n., 192,
200, 206-7, 210 599., 217,
215, 216
218, 221, 225, 226 sqq. | Girardin, Mme. de, 191&n.


INDEX
297
266
Globe, Le, 192, 203, 214, 236, 237 | INDEPENDENT WHIG, THE, 179–80
Gordon, Duchess of, 262
Gorst, Sir John, Q.C., 44, 49, 57,
| JACKSON, William, 155, 165 n.
58, 63, 103
James, Sir Henry, Q.C., 44 & n.,
Granier de Cassagnac, M., 192,
48, 55, 59, 69, 77, 82
196, 199, 214, 218, 220, | Jelf, Mr., 185
221, 227, 232, 233, 235,
Jew, Joseph, see Joux, Joseph
236, 237
Jockey Club, the, 239, 240, 241,
Graslin, Mathew, 143, 151-2, 153,
242 & n., 248, 262 sqq.,
171, 173
266, 282, 283, 284, 285-6,
Gray, James, 185
291, 292 & n., 293
Great Subscription Stakes, 245, Jockey Club, The, by Pigott, 263,
290
Grey, Mr., see Roberts
Johnson, Dr. George, 21 & n., 22,
Grey Diomed, race-horse, 244, 269,
23, 24 sqq., 28, 32–3, 36,
270, 271, 272, 275, 277,
46, 49, 50, 51-2, 53-4, 72,
279, 280, 288 sqq.
76, 79, 90, 92, 94
Griffiths, George, 59 sqq.
Johnson, Dr. Samuel, 266
Griffiths, Mrs., 82
Joux, Joseph (called Jew), 182,
Grisier, 220
184, 185, 186, 189
Grivel, Frederick, 175
KEEBER, Mary Anne, 15 999.,
Grosvenor, Earl, 243, 247, 275
31-2, 57-8, 74, 99
Guise, M. de, 208, 209, 212, 216,
Kingston, Duke of, 247
226, 231
Guizot, M., 215
Knapton, Mr., 246
Gull, Sir William, 25&n., 26–8, LADE, Lady, 266–7
34, 52 599., 58, 59, 65, 79, Lade, Sir John, 266–7, 286
90, 94
Lake, ist Viscount, 242 &n.
Gully, Dr. James Manby, 4, 38, Lake, Warwick, 242 &n., 246, 247,
39, 40-2, 43, 45, 56, 57,
249–50, 251–2, 253, 256,
60, 62-3, 66, 67, 69 sqq.,
257, 258, 259, 260, 269,
84-5, 88, 90, 91, 95, 96,
270, 271-2, 274 sqq., 287,
97, 99, 102 599.
288, 289, 290
Lance, race-horse, 269
HALFORD, Sir Henry, 151 & n., Lancet, The, 36, 115-16
154, 182
Leigh, Colonel, 291
Hambletonian, race-horse, 261-2 Leigh, Mrs., 291
Hamilton, 5th Duke of, 187, 259 Leopold I, King of the Belgians,
Hamilton, Lady Anne, 187-8
Hamilton, Lord Archibald, 187 Lewis, Sir George, 44 & n., 45, 49,
Hanover, Ernest, King of, see
53, 61, 65, 68, 80-1, 82, 84
Cumberland, Duke of Lièvenne, Mlle, 191, 195, 223, 224
Harrison, Dr., 17, 18, 19, 28, 35, Lines, Miss Mary, 107
49, 50, 75, 83, 89, 91, 92 Louis-Philippe, 236
Herod, stallion, 244, 254
Highflyer, stallion, 244, 248, 258 M'CALMONT, Mr., 12, 48, 64
History of the English Turf, by McKenzie, Inspector, 115, 116,
Sir T. Cook, 239
117, 120
Holker, Sir John, 42 & n., 65, 73-5 Maddox, Charles, 82-3
an.
Maid of the Oaks, race-horse, 243
Home, Mr.,afterwards Sir Everard, March, Lord, 264, see Queensberry,
151 & n., 154, 155, 173, 180 Duke of
Hope, Edward Stanley, 64 & n. Melfort, Comtesse de, née Lady
Huish, Robert, 238
Caroline Barry, 268
Humphreys, Mr., 120, 134
Mellor, Mr. Justice (Sir John),
Hypolita, race-horse, 243
43 an.
184


298
INDEX
Méry, Joseph, 215
Phillips, T., 181
Meynard, M. de, 229 599.
Pigott, Charles, 263, 265, 266
Montez, Lola, 193 & n., 192, Pipator, race-horse, 276
197-8, 199, 205, 213-15, Place, Francis, 160 sqq., 173, 176,
219, 224-5
180, 185, 186
Moody, Miss Anne Maria (“ Mrs. Poland, Sir Harry, K.C., 44
Murray "), 119, 121, 122, | Pollock, Sir David, K.C., 184&ni.
123, 124 599., 134, 137 Polyanthus, race-horse, 291
Moore, Dr., 18, 28, 32-3, 35, 49, Presse, La, 191, 192, 198, 202,
50, 83, 89, 91, 92
203, 236
Murphy, Mr., Q.C., 44, 69
Preston-Lumb, Mr., 106, 107, 108,
Murray, Major William, 107, 108,
123
109 sqq., 118 sqq., 129 899., Price, Bill, 250, 253, 256, 257.
136, 138, 139
287, 288
"Murray, Mrs.," see Moody, Miss Prince, Richard, 243
Priory, The, Balham, 6
Neale, Cornelius (valet), 143, 144, Pritchard, John, Dr. Gully's
145, 148, 149, 150, 154,
butler, 62-3, 103
168, 171, 174, 181, 182,
183, 186
QUARTERLY Review, The, 186,
Neale, Mrs., 145, 150-1, 152, 156,
188-9, 239
171, 172, 175
Queensberry, Duke of, 247, 263,
Neale (trainer), 242, 245, 276,
264
281, 288, 289
Newmarket Races, 239, 240, 241, RACING CALENDAR, 179, 239
244, 249, 260-2, 269 sqq., Radcliffe, Delmé, 263
288, 291, 292, 293
Rann, Jack, 267
Nimble, race-horse, 244
Ransom, Mr., 108-9, 115, 120, 122
“ Nimrod," 239
Read, Mr., 158
Noble, Derby winner, 265
Reade, Charles, 42
Norfolk, Duke of, 246
Redwood, Professor (Dr. Theo-
Northumberland Chambers, 105-6
philus), 28, 30, 31, 32, 37,
Northumberland Street, 105
51, 54-5
Notes and Queries, 187-8
Reid, Mr., 29, 32
Reinette, Gaston, 228
Oaks, the, 239, 243
Rhadamanthus, Derby winner,
Oatlands Stakes, 244, 249, 251,
251
252, 254, 256-8
Ricardo, Captain Alexander Louis,
O'Kelly, Andrew, 262
3, 4, 65, 66, 68, 99, 104
O'Kelly, Dennis, 262
Ricardo, Mrs., see Bravo, Mrs.
1000 Guineas Race, 239
Charles
Ord, Mr., 12
Rieff, M, de, 218, 219
Orleans, Philippe, Duc d' (Egalité) Roberts, John, 106, 107, 109, 112,
268, 293
117. 119, 124 99.136,
Oxford, Lord, 291
138-9
Roberts, Mrs., 120, 125, 138
PANTON, Thomas, 265, 284
Roberts, Thomas, 120
Panzera, Antonio, 175
Roberts, William, 108, 111, 112,
Parry, Mr. Sergeant, 62, 63, 69,
115, 122, 139
77, 81, 84, 86
Romilly, Sir Samuel, 161-2
Paulet, James, 143, 173
Rowe,' butler to the Charles
Payne, Dr. Joseph, 28, 32
Bravos, 17, 18, 19, 24,
Pegasus, race-horse, 249, 250, 251
55-7, 98, 99
Phillips, F. C., 286
Phillips, Josiah, 166n., 184, 186, SACKVILLE, Lord, 263, 291
188
Saint-Agnan, M. de, 196, 197


CASANOVA IN ENGLAND
By HORACE BLEACKLEY
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ADVENTURER AND LOVER.
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