A Marriage of Convenience (42 page)

Counsel had now moved on and was telling the jury that Theresa had agreed to secrecy concerning the marriage, not because of any doubts about its soundness, but solely to protect the financial expectations of the man she loved. The characteristics of Mason’s manner were becoming clearer to Clinton: the tenderness of his tone whenever he mentioned Theresa by name, his contempt whenever he spoke of “the defendant”. His gestures too had elements of theatrical caricature: feigned reluctance to make a damning accusation expressed by lowered eyes, incredulity
conveyed
by upward glances and exaggerated smiles. He was pausing again; touching those wretched pince-nez, leaning forward slightly as he always did when wishing to speak to the jury with particular intimacy.

‘So now,’ he sighed, ‘we have come to that fateful day … to the time of the celebration of the marriage. On January the 6th 1867,
shortly before High Mass, they went together to the chapel at Rathnagar. Theresa Ardmore will tell you under oath what occurred, and I do not believe that Father Maguire’s testimony will differ in any material way. Suffice it for me to say that Lord Ardmore and his future wife found the priest robed in his vestments. They knelt down before him at the altar and he pronounced the marriage benediction over them after they had pledged their troth.
Gentlemen
of the jury, when the defendant comes to give his evidence, I cannot believe that he will deny the words which were spoken on that occasion. I venture to say that when you have heard him, you will find it incredible that a man who had plighted his troth before an ordained minister of God, in God’s house, could within a year find it in his heart to repudiate his bride.’ The Serjeant drew in a long breath and shook his head. ‘I fear, gentlemen, the answer the defendant will give you is that there was no marriage on that occasion—that he took her in there merely to ease her conscience and to legitimise her relationship to him as his more confiding mistress.’ As Mason paused, Serjeant Alderson looked round at Clinton and pretended to wipe away a tear. Clinton smiled back and felt real tears in his own eyes. His new-found composure began to crumble as he sensed that Mason was only warming to his task. The thought that this man would try to break him in cross-examination had been apparent to him from the beginning, but never with such clarity.

‘What will you say to such a man?’ Mason cried to the jury. ‘What
can
be said to any man prepared to stand in that box and say that he went to the chapel with a ring in his hand, intending to profane the altar and deceive the woman who loved him? Could any man be so lost to all honour? I think not, gentlemen of the jury. He will wish you to think that he withheld the consent which is the essence of a valid marriage. The priest may support him, and call what he did a blessing.’ A few people laughed in the gallery. Serjeant Mason turned and looked up. ‘In this country I am delighted to think that the words of the Catholic solemnization of matrimony are tolerably well known. If not, I am prepared to jolt a memory or two. Possibly the priest has been threatened with prosecution for marrying a Protestant. If that is so, I can understand his desire to call the ceremony something else.’ Again there was a ripple of muted laughter.

The Lord Chief Justice said with sudden impatience:

‘Serjeant Mason, I am always most reluctant to interrupt counsel, but I must ask you to wait till after the examination of witnesses before making any more remarks of this sort. I have been very lenient, but this cannot continue.’

Mason bowed deferentially.

‘If your Lordship pleases.’ He hugged the sleeves of his gown around him and smiled. ‘Gentlemen of the jury, I will submit in evidence a marriage certificate under the priest’s hand, which may help you to reach a decision on the matter. If you decide when you have heard the evidence, that a marriage was performed, this trial ought to be at an end. I may not tell you what the defendant will say, but I will tell you this—There is an Irish statute, enacted in days when Catholics were treated as criminals. The wording of this Act will speak for itself … will explain how it has remained in force only through the neglect and oversights of our legislators in
parliament.
Listen to this: “19th George II Chapter 13 Section 1—
Whereas
the laws now in being to prevent popish priests from celebrating marriage between Protestants and Papists have been found
ineffectual
; for remedy therefore, it is enacted—by the King’s most excellent majesty, with the consent of the lords spiritual and temporal, and by the authority of the Commons in this Parliament—that every marriage celebrated after the first day of May in the year of our Lord 1746 between a Papist and any person who had professed the Protestant faith at any time within twelve months before such celebration, shall be and is hereby proclaimed absolutely null and void to all intents and purposes, without any process, judgment or sentence of law whatever.” The same Act, gentlemen, provides that the officiating priest should be guilty of felony.’ He paused and then looked gravely at the jury. ‘Gentlemen, I am confident that I can prove that Lord Ardmore was not a professing Protestant at the time of his marriage, and that he had been nothing of the sort at any time during the twelve preceding months. If I also convince you that a marriage was performed, then it will be your duty, and I believe your pleasure, to hold the defendant to what he swore at the altar. Your verdict for the plaintiff will dash aside a dishonourable plea and defend the marriage service from being made the trick of libertines to gain possession of innocent women. Such a verdict will rightly merit the praise and gratitude of every honest man and woman in the land.’ He sat down abruptly to tumultuous applause. The judge rapped sharply with his gavel.

‘At any other time I will have the court cleared. But since this is a convenient time to adjourn for luncheon, I shall be indulgent. Do not expect the same forebearance again.’ His Lordship glared down at the public benches and then rose.

Leaving the court, Clinton was spat at several times. Affecting not to notice, Serjeant Alderson took his arm.

‘Could have been worse, my lord. In fact I’ve a feeling he’s worried about his witnesses.’

In the deserted corridor outside the robing room, Alderson eyed Clinton closely.

‘You didn’t expect them to call your brother?’

‘No.’

‘I was watching you. Why are you so worried?’

‘I think it’s possible he told her about the status of Irish marriages.’

‘Before she went to Dublin?’ gasped the serjeant. Clinton nodded. Alderson stared at him in amazement and burst out: ‘My dear man, it’s a gift from God if you’re right. Don’t you see … if she knew the thing was false …’

‘Of course I see,’ snapped Clinton.

‘Then what’s the matter with you? You ought to be thanking your …’ He broke off as he saw Clinton cover his face.

‘I loved her,’ he whispered, ‘loved her, don’t you understand?’

After a long silence, Alderson took out his watch and murmured gently:

‘My lord, it’s crucial that you put me in the picture. Believe me, every minute counts.’

Soon Clinton was blindly following him across the central hall towards the rooms allotted to them for the duration of the trial.

*

When Theresa entered the witness box and took the oath, the noise of people moving forward in their seats to get a better view made her almost inaudible. Clinton was sickened to see women raising lorgnettes and even opera glasses. She was dressed in black and wore a short veil, but as she turned he caught a fleeting glimpse of her face which was haggard and very pale. For several moments he was in danger of breaking down, so powerfully did he feel for her. Only when he heard her firm voice and saw how steadily she faced counsel, did his instinctive trust begin to weaken. Looking at her frail old father, sitting with his solicitor, Clinton once more found it hard to believe that Simmonds could have had the will to bring the case to trial against her wishes.

His head was throbbing and he was aware of a parched dryness in his throat. And all the time Clinton knew that his nervousness had nothing to do with whether Theresa’s evidence turned the case against him. All he prayed for was that her replies to counsel’s questions would give him back his faith in her. If she denied being his mistress before the ceremony or needlessly damaged him, their love and sufferings would lose all meaning.

To begin with Serjeant Mason asked her straightforward questions aimed at verifying all the meetings mentioned in his
opening. These enquiries did not go into the nature of the relationship, or require her to answer in detail. Though she seemed reluctant to testify, Clinton could not help remembering Alderson predicting this. Just after Theresa stated with her usual brevity that she had accepted him on the evening before her marriage, Clinton knew from the intentness of Serjeant Mason’s gaze that an
important
point had been reached. The barrister said quietly:

‘On the evening you accepted the defendant, did he say anything that in any way alarmed you? Did he for example …’

Serjeant Alderson jumped up and faced the judge.

‘I trust my learned friend isn’t about to lead the witness.’

‘Certainly not,’ snorted Mason.

The Lord Chief Justice inclined his head.

‘You may put the question again, Serjeant Mason.’

‘On the evening of January 5th did Lord Ardmore say anything to alarm you?’

‘About the marriage?’ asked Theresa, apparently confused.

Mr Serjeant Mason smiled encouragingly.

‘You must have talked about it. What did he say?’

The long silence which followed the question clearly disconcerted Mason. Clinton felt the rapt attention of the court like a physical presence enclosing him. Theresa said softly:

‘I asked whether he minded being married by a Catholic priest and he said that we …’ She stopped, as if suddenly bewildered.

‘Well?’ murmured Serjeant Mason. Theresa merely shook her head and stared blindly at the clerk’s table. The Lord Chief Justice said in a firm but kindly voice:

‘Madam, please will you answer learned counsel’s questions. He wishes to assist you but may not put words in your mouth.’

Theresa paused a moment more and then said:

‘He told me he disliked Catholic ceremonial.’

Her reply brought an emotional tightness to Clinton’s throat, since it was so plainly not the answer Mason had expected. The barrister said firmly:

‘He disliked Catholic ceremonial. Was that so very alarming? After all he’d been quite happy to arrange matters with the priest. I suppose he knew he was a Catholic minister?’

Serjeant Alderson intervened.

‘This is no way to conduct the examination. The witness plainly stated that the defendant on the eve of his supposed marriage expressed a serious reservation about the form of the Catholic marriage service. I object to my learned friend trying to persuade her to deny the obvious implication of this remark.’

The judge made a note and said to the jury:

‘You heard what the witness said. You should discount the personal opinion expressed by Serjeant Mason about the
importance
of that reply.’

Serjeant Mason appeared quite unmoved. He folded his arms.

‘Madam,’ he went on almost cheerfully, ‘are you a Roman Catholic?’

‘Yes.’

‘Were you one at the time of your marriage?’

‘I was. I hadn’t been a good one for several years.’

‘But you were a Roman Catholic and believed in the doctrines of that church at this time?’

‘Yes.’

‘Before you went to the altar with the defendant, what did you do?’

‘I made my confession.’

‘And after your marriage, what did you do then?’

‘I received communion.’

Mason looked at her with a guileless smile.

‘Confession and communion are sacred acts, are they not?’

‘Yes.’

‘It is blasphemy to perform them insincerely, is it not?’

‘Yes.’

‘I ask you then by virtue of your oath and as a Roman Catholic, would you have made your confession or received the host if you had understood that what was also done that morning was no marriage but a sham to ease your conscience?’

Theresa lowered her eyes as if reluctant to speak. At last she whispered:

‘I thought the marriage a true one.’

‘Thank you, madam,’ murmured Mason with a slight bow in the direction of the jury.

‘May I explain something?’ asked Theresa looking up at the judge.

‘You may.’

‘These questions have been hard for me because I felt very emotional at the time, and Lord Ardmore may have tried to tell me something which I did not understand.’

Serjeant Mason pursed his lips.

‘I’m sure your sense of fairness does you great credit, madam, but would you not say that an actress is better able than most people to judge the effect and meaning of spoken words?’

‘In general, I would agree.’

‘Do the words “blessing” and “marriage” carry quite different meanings for you?’

‘They do.’

‘The words do not sound similar to you?’

‘No.’

‘Do you think marriage has one or many meanings? I should perhaps have said the ceremony of marriage.’

‘It has one meaning to me.’

Mason leant forward on the raised rail in front of him and breathed out heavily, as though completing a task that had not been easy. His apparent struggle to obtain what he wanted, had at first almost restored Clinton’s faith in Theresa; but then he realised that her hesitance had not defeated Mason, and in the end had lent her evidence greater impact. The jury would now believe whatever she said. Mason continued: ‘I suggest to you that no woman with a clear view of marriage could fail to recognise even a mild statement at variance with her opinion on the matter. That she should fail to notice, if such a statement were made by the man she intended to marry, passes my comprehension.’

‘My Lord,’ said Serjeant Alderson, ‘I strongly object to counsel for the plaintiff making speeches to the jury under the guise of examining a witness. If he wants to ask her whether she thinks that Lord Ardmore tried to explain his actual position and intentions before the ceremony, then let him ask her that directly.’