at the end of the bench; but she heard him not—or heeded him not. Sir Cresswell even desisted from the perusal of the entertaining volume in which he had appeared to be absorbed, and entreated the lady to sit down; but in the agitation of her mind Mrs. Barber mistook his meaning, and steadily raising her veil, so as to uncover her whole face, revealed herself to the Jury. How ugly all the lawyers in Court appeared!—In how false a position were those wretched Jurymen placed! To do them but justice—poor fellows!—they seemed to be aware of the fact, and thoroughly ashamed of themselves. A young barrister in a figured shirt obviously registered, who was sitting near me, observed, under his breath, to another member of the profession, a tall, stout young man: “Well!—that something-or-other fellow Barber must be something-or-other hard to please;” to which his stout and learned friend replied in effect, “that a monotonous diet of partridges, too much prolonged, would, in the long run, inevitably produce satiety.”
However, the point before the Court was to induce Mrs. Barber to take a seat. The attempts made by the old Judge, and Sir Cresswell had turned out palpable failures; but it was clearly impossible to proceed to business until the lady had been prevailed upon to retire to the back of the pen, and take up position in a regular way. The two Judges had broken down—it was idle to think of physical force. Mr. Lamb, who might possibly have exercised some influence over his client, remained perfectly passive; there was not a trace of any expression on his features from which you could have inferred that he was concerned with the matter in hand. I suppose he was puzzled and at his wits’ end.
The Divorce Court was at a dead lock; there was a perfect silence. There stood Mrs. Barber—a young Niobe in a sweet little bonnet and Indian shawl—staring at the Jury, and waiting for the axe to fall. Dr. Dodge next tried his luck, but to him Mrs. Barber paid not the smallest attention; she was no doubt expecting the blow from another quarter. Dr. Dodge had interfered in too pompous and self-sufficient a manner, and his position was simply ludicrous, as he stood in his place gesticulating away without a result. Finally, the third Judge, a fine-looking old gentleman, who had been fast asleep with his hands in his pockets, was aroused by the silence; and as he sate next to the pen he was able at last to attract Mrs. Barber’s attention. The lady turned upon him, her eyes filled with an expression of reverential gratitude, and contrived, in her own graceful way, to envelope the three Judges, at the same moment, with a look of filial piety. The Judge who had last spoken was her father; Sir Cresswell, and the old Judge, actually operating, her two good, kind uncles, who would see her well out of the scrape. With the courtesy of three high-bred old gentlemen they continued bowing to her, while Mrs. Barber was settling herself in her place, and shaking out her drapery, and reducing it into order with dainty little touches;—her hair, too, had been slightly disarranged, and also required some share of her attention. It became necessary for her to take off her second glove, in order to put matters quite to rights. From the moment Mrs. Barber had taken her seat everybody in Court seemed to experience sensible relief, and a kind of buzzing and a blowing of noses ran through the assembly, just as you find in churches when the attention of a congregation has been kept too long on the stretch under a particular head of terror or consolation.
Mrs. Barber having at length succeeded in arranging the disposition of her drapery to her satisfaction, and having also remedied the slight disorder in her “bandeaux” (these I observed were ribbed, or wavy, the effect was not unpleasing,) and having drawn her shawl around her in a way to produce the feeling of high shoulders, was now at leisure to attend to the business before the Court—indeed, so anxious was she that no time should be lost, that she directed towards the Bar a little look which meant “The victim is here—Strike!” even before she had finished putting on her gloves, (5¾), an operation requiring some degree of attention. The control the poor lady exercised over her feelings was very remarkable. Perfect self-possession had taken the place of the stupor of grief which but a few minutes before had weighed upon her tender spirits. As she glanced round the Court—you felt that it was converted into a drawing-room, and Mrs. Barber was the lady of the house. In point of fact, this was no longer Sir C. C.’s celebrated Divorce Court. What we saw was, Mrs. Barber At Home!
The duty of examining her in chief devolved upon Dr. Dodge, who requested her to give him her attention. Mrs. Barber with a sweet smile was graciously pleased to grant the prayer of his petition. I pass over mere formal matter, for otherwise these fleeting memoranda of the evidence in the great case of Barber v. Barber would run to intolerable length. I intreat, then, that any professional gentleman who may do me the honour of running his eye over these notes will believe that all formal proofs were put in, and in a word, “omnia rite et solenniter esse acta.” I confine myself to noteworthy matter which may interest the public, referring the professional reader for technical points to the forthcoming number of that entertaining, and instructive serial, “McWhack’s Divorce Cases.” So after a few preliminary questions, answered with the greatest propriety by Mrs. Barber—the examination proceeded.
Dr. Dodge. “I believe, Mrs. Barber, at the time you were married to Mr. Barber you were under age.”
Mrs. B. “I was a mere child at the time.”
Dr. D. “Now, madam, will you tell the Jury your exact age at the time of the fatal event?”
Mrs. B. (After a pause, during which she remained absorbed in arithmetical calculations.) “I am not yet twenty-three—my birthday is on the fifth of May” (sensation in the Court), “and I have been married six years to Mr. Barber.” (Increased sensation, unfavourable to Mr. B.).
Dr. D. “In other words, you were turned sixteen, but not seventeen, years of age at the date of your miserable marriage with the Respondent?”
