by Karen Joyce
Arriving at a quarter to the hour, Lincoln sat in his carriage and watched as the Ministers and Lords entered the Palace of Westminster for the Parliament session beginning at four in the afternoon. He was hesitant to join these men. Not only because these sessions could end very late into the night or into the early hours of the morning or because he could no longer tolerate the iniquity of these men’s actions, but because of another thought that was pressing against his mind with an urgency that he couldn’t dispel. What if George Thompson’s petition for the abolishment of capital punishment was rejected then this moment could mean Lady Delphinia’s death. Now those who were harmed by the injustices of this government were no longer one of many in a sea of faceless men; now they were real to him and in each of them he saw nuances of her.
Entering Westminster, Lincoln wasn’t intimidated by the aristocracy that suffocated the small chance that justice had to live outside these walls. Nor was he caught off guard by the pandemonium of these proceedings, as the boisterous and rowdy members of Parliament discussed the action of the petition. As he ascended the steps within the aisle that led to where Lord Ashwood and the other members of his party were seated, he felt for the first time since losing Lady Delphinia, that he was a free man; and though he knew this emancipated state would not remain and he would soon return to the shackles of suffering that had become his world, he knew he would never again allow these men to burden him with their immorality; or lead him from the integrity of his path. Every choice, every action he would make from this moment on would be borne from the seed of truth and love for all humanity. Taking one of the seats reserved for him, he looked upon these men as they drew on their cigars and pipes, shaking their heads in disapproval as the meeting was called to order and George Donisthorpe Thompson addressed the speaker to present his signed petition for the abolition of capital punishment. This man was like a beacon in the night and Lincoln was drawn to him like a ship lost out at sea. He was a man with a proud and kindly disposition, but underneath there was a sternness and strength that could only be perceived by those that did not look upon his benevolent nature as weakness. Aged in his late forties, Mr Thompson was one of the most important abolitionists and proponents of anti-slavery of his time and had been elected to the British House of Commons, as a Member of Parliament for Tower Hamlets.
When the meeting drew to a close, Lincoln left the room without saying so much as a word to Lord Ashwood or the other members of his party, running away from the their shooting arrows of pride that were piercing his heart. The petition had failed and all Lincoln could think about was that time long ago when the sun hadn’t even begun to rise. There had always been enough time then. So much time before the sun would set again. So much time. Now there was no longer enough time to do all that needed to be done. To know, to learn, to hold your dreams and feel them the way he once felt her. The dream that had grown from every moment with her, from within her. To now only live where it had begun and die in her memory. There was so much time then. So much yet to come. So much yet to be. Now there wasn’t enough. Time was running out. He wouldn’t let her die. He couldn’t live in a world where she didn’t exist. Couldn’t go on if she wasn’t there to breathe life into his world. She wouldn’t die. He wouldn’t allow himself to conceive of it. He would save her.
Silently he prayed to the heavens above to keep her safe, until he could find a way, and he knew then, even though this petition had failed and even if the Chartist’s failed too there would be more movements like theirs that would rise up out of these archaic institutions. More men like Thompson would come. Every step they took. Every action were like drops in a ravine and one day it would become an ocean that would rise like a great wave and cleanse this hell they had all been condemned to since being cast out of the Garden of Eden. Their day of redemption would come at long last and they would finally find their way back home to that sacred place. That sacred place where only the flowering of kindness and compassion could grow. That sacred place that lived within all of us. That sacred place within him where he felt her still.
XXII
Never before had he awakened to a new day with the clear and firm assurance of the path he should walk. The path that would lead to her and what he refused to believe in the fears that he wouldn’t allow to be borne from within into the world. All he would allow himself to see was that white light at the end of the tunnel and the dispersing of colours as it passed through the fractured prism of her memory, foreshadowed by the meeting that resounded again and again within his mind. The powerful words of Fergus O’Connor’s speech as he elicited the warm esteem of the people…he would die for the cause…he would lead the people to death or to glory…the voice of the people is the voice of God…Onward, we conquer; backward, we fall… The promises of O’Connor’s Land Scheme that would change the face of society within twelve months and make a paradise of England in less than five years. When he had agreed to join the Chartist Movement and garner the support of his constituents and the members of parliament it had all been for the people’s cause, but now it had become far more personal than he could have ever seen. The third petition, the last of the great Chartist Petitions had been presented to the House of Commons on the 26th November, 1848 and if the outcome were successful it would be his redemption, but what of Lady Delphinia’s salvation? He was desperate to find a way to save her, and he only had one choice left open to him.
The streets were bustling with activity as Lincoln’s carriage rode past the industrial properties in West Central London, overpowered with the scent of yeast in the air from the Meux’s Horse Shoe Brewery that covered some three acres of land. Arriving at the offices of the Queens house on Tottingham Court Road, Lincoln removed a small business card from his pocket and read again the address of Davenport & Co. Law Firm. As he made his way through the front entrance with his head lowered, the cemented thoughts within his mind carried him to the second floor where he finally found himself standing before a receptionist standing behind a desk on tippy toes, reaching for the top drawer of a tall wooden filing cabinet.
“Excuse me, Madame.”
“May I help you, Sir?” she asked, as she turned and slid her glasses down the bridge of her nose.
“Sir Lincoln Rinehart, I wish to see Mr Davenport esquire.”
“Very good, Sir,” she said, as she looked down upon her diary. “I’m sorry Sir, what time did you say your appointment was?”
“Ah, no, you see, I don’t have an appointment, but if you’ll just communicate my arrival to Mr Davenport’s attention…”
“I’m very sorry, Sir, but I’m afraid I cannot allow you to see Mr Davenport without an appointment.”
“Yes, I understand, but this is very important. If you’ll just let him know that I’m here, I’m sure he’ll receive me.”
“That may be the case, but Mr Davenport is momentarily engaged at present with a client. Perhaps, if you’d like to take a seat, or I could make an appointment for you to return at another time?”
“I don’t think you understand, I don’t wish to make an appointment. There is no time for that. I must see him immediately.”
“Please, Sir, I must ask you to calm down and take a seat.” Lincoln walked away from her and down a short corridor until he came to the door of Mr Davenport’s office.
“Sir…Sir, please, you cannot go in there…You must not disturb him…Please, come back, Sir…” trailed the receptionist’s voice, reaching him too late as Lincoln opened the door and barged his way into Davenport’s office. “Sir,” said the woman, standing behind Lincoln, “I tried to stop him…”
“It’s all fine, Miss Cartwright. I will take care of this. Please accept my apology Mr Northrop for this young gentleman’s intrusion. It appears there is some urgent business that I must attend to. My secretary will organise another appointment for you. Miss Cartwright please show Mr Northrop out,” he asked, as Mr Northrop rose reluctantly from his seat and shook Mr Davenport’s hand.
“Ve
ry good, Sir,” said Miss Cartwright, as she led Mr Northrop from the room. As soon as they were left alone Mr Davenport invited Lincoln to take a seat before his desk.
“This is most irregular, Sir Lincoln Rinehart, is it?” he asked, as he took a seat behind his desk.
“Yes, that is correct, and I do apologise, Mr Davenport, but it was most urgent that I saw you and I am afraid that time would not permit me to seek your wise counsel under more sensible conditions,” he said, as he seated himself.
“Very well then, Lincoln. You are here now, so we may as well get to the bottom of this matter.”
“Thank-you Mr Davenport, I am most anxious to discover if you can be of any help to me.”
“That remains to be seen. First, what is it that has brought you here today?”
“I come to appeal to your good nature, not only as a man of the law, but as a close acquaintance of the Montague’s.”
“I see,” said Davenport, as he leant back upon his chair and raised his hand to pull at the tip of the goatee upon his chin. “Would I be correct in my assumptions that this has something to do with the recent arrest of Lady Delphinia?”
“That is correct,” answered Lincoln. “I do not expect you to be sympathetic to her state of affairs, but there is much more to this matter than you realise.”
“Lincoln, the Duke was a good friend of mine. I do hope you are not suggesting that I play a hand in Lady Delphinia’s defence, which, I might add, the prospects of which does not lend itself to the greatest of opportunity for her release.”
“Please, excuse my impertinence, but I understand you have been appointed to the bench of the Central Criminal Assizes Court and may be called upon to hear her case.”
“Now, wait a minute, Lincoln, I am not at liberty to discuss matters of the court with the public. At any rate, if there is any further evidence you wish to disclose then I suggest you contact her defence counsel. I can have Miss Cartwright provide you with their contact details.”
“That is precisely what I wish to achieve, but I was hoping that I could confide in you. If you were to understand the events that led to the Duke’s death then perhaps you could use your influence upon the court.”
“I’m afraid that it is out of my hands. Another judge has been appointed to the task and what you are suggesting is, might I add, highly inappropriate.”
“Forgive me, Sir, I have already been in contact with her defence lawyer and they do not believe my evidence is pertinent to her case and will not as they say, make a mockery of the court with hearsay.”
“I am most interested to hear of this evidence.”
“You see, Lady Delphinia is innocent of the charge against her.”
“Are you suggesting that she did not murder the Duke,” asked Davenport, as he leant forward with interest.
“No, I am not. What I am saying to you is that she acted in self-defence.”
“Lincoln, Sir, what you are saying is most difficult for me to comprehend. To claim that the Duke would be capable of an act that would compel Lady Delphinia to believe her life were in danger and with no avenue but to commit the crime of murder against him. Why, I am flabbergasted by your accusation.”
“I know what I’m saying is difficult for you to comprehend, but it’s the truth.”
“Why the incredulity of your words. It’s very disheartening to hear his name being dragged in the mud with such callous disregard for his reputation and his honour. I still don’t believe I understand exactly what it is you’re trying to say, Lincoln. Are you suggesting that the Duke behaved inappropriately toward Lady Delphinia, his neice no less?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. The Duke had been taking his liberty with her for many years since her youth and she had no choice in her action whatsoever.”
“I see,” said Davenport, as he leant back again to ponder this revelation. “And are there any witnesses that are willing to come forward to testify in her defence?”
“I don’t believe Duchess Montague would ever come forward in her defence and though Lady Madeline has confessed to me of what I have spoken of today, she is zealous in her refusal to speak of it again,” he replied, as he kneaded his knees with anxiety. “Mr Davenport, I do not intend any offence by my abruptness, but, time is of the essence and I beg of you, if there is anything you can do. If you have any influence whatsoever upon the court then please have mercy!”
“I am, as you are aware, a close acquaintance of Duchess Montague and this does represent a clear conflict of interest for me.”
“If it’s a question of money, then I will pay whatever your fee.”
“Lincoln, if it were as simple as that, then I would be at the mercy of the highest bidder, but it is decidedly more complicated.”
“Are you saying then that you won’t help me?”
“Not at all, you misunderstand me. I am simply saying that money is not the issue at hand here.”
“I see,” said Lincoln, as he paused and waited for Mr Davenport to name the price he would have to pay to save her soul.
“I understand you’re a very ambitious man, Lincoln. Well, it just so happens that I am equally ambitious in my endeavours and I have been waiting for an opportunity to realise my aspirations,” he said, as he took a large, gold coin from his pocket and began rolling it across his knuckles.
“But, you are a judge. You sit on the bench of the High Court. What more could you possibly want?”
“I need powerful friends, Lincoln. That is all. No more. No less. Just a friend, should I need a shoulder to lean on and I think you and I would make the greatest of allies.” Lincoln wasn’t shocked. He knew what the world was. He knew how contaminated it’s soil and what cold and slimy worms festered beneath its skin. He understood Davenport’s euphemism perfectly. He wasn’t seeking his friendship. He was looking for a government official to facilitate his illegitimate ambitions. Yet, Lincoln was prepared to do anything for Lady Delphinia, no matter the cost he would have to pay.
“Even if I were to agree to such an arrangement, you have already admitted that you have no power over the outcome of her case.”
“On second thought, when I give it closer consideration, perhaps, there is something I can do to influence the matter. If what you tell me is correct, perhaps, I can convince the judge presiding over her case to be more lenient upon her sentencing.”
“You could do that?”
“I can make many things happen when I am in the mind to do it. You should know Lincoln, I take very good care of my friends.”
“And just exactly how lenient would her sentencing be?”
“I may be able to persuade the judge that the prosecution’s case is very weak. In fact, notwithstanding the element of mens rea, I am confident he will see the weakness of their circumstantial evidence and she will not be found guilty of the charge.”
“Whatever you want, Mr Davenport, consider it done.”
“You are making the right choice, Lincoln. Why, think about it, with my influence in law and your influence in politics, nothing can stand in our way. We will be an unstoppable force,” he said, as he rose and walked over to the carafes tray. Lincoln stood up. He may have agreed to use his political weight in Davenport’s favour, but he refused to continue this charade of intimacy.
“Surely, you’re not leaving so soon. I thought we could have a drink in celebration of our new found friendship.”
“No thank-you, Mr Davenport. I have said all I wish to say on this matter.”
“Lincoln, don’t think you can get away that easily. There is something I need you to do to show me your loyalty.” Lincoln returned to his seat. Everything came at a cost. Happiness, Freedom, Love. Nothing was free. Not even your soul.
“This business with the Chartists. I understand that Fergus O’Connor has presented another petition to the House of Commons. As you could imagine, it has upset a lot of important gentleman within society.”
“I don’t see what that has to do with me.”
> “Why, it has everything to do with you. You are just the man we need to put an end to this absurdity.”
“Whatever you think I can do, it is too late. The petition has already been presented. If you’re asking for me to vote against it, I can’t imagine that my vote will have much influence on the outcome.”
“I had another idea in mind,” he said, as he sat down again behind his desk and took down his tumbler of whiskey. “If someone were to bring the validity of the petition into question, then it may be enough to put an end to this nonsense altogether.”
“I see and how exactly do you propose I go about doing such a thing?”
“It would be simple, why, all you would have to do is attest to parliament that there have been a number of forgeries.”
“And why would they take my word for it?” Davenport rose from his seat again and poured himself another glass before walking to stand and look out of the open window.
“Take a deep breath Lincoln and tell me what is it you smell?”
“I suppose I can smell a distinctive phenolic aroma and perhaps a light tangy odour of the whiskey.”
“Try again, Lincoln. What else do you smell?” Lincoln closed his eyes and took another deep breath and this time he smelt it. The unmistakeable smell wafting through the window from the brewery.
“Yeast,” he said, as he turned his head toward the window.
“Did you know the Horse Shoe Brewery is one of the largest producers of Porter in London?”
“No, I’m not familiar with the logistics of the brewery industry.”
“Never mind, Lincoln, there is time enough to learn what one does not yet know. Do you know how they make Porter?”
“I don’t know. I imagine it’s similar to the brewing process of making ale.”