Introduction
IT is necessary to make some explanation for troubling the public with a narrative so entirely personal as that which follows. It is also proper to make some apology for publishing events of so private a nature, and for exposing once more to a painful publicity a lady of respectability, and with whom my relations have been so long and intimate. Nothing short of an inexorable necessity would compel me to a course so repugnant to my tastes and feelings. I trust that a simple statement of facts will absolve me from the grave responsibility of this unpleasant act.
It may be remembered by some of my readers that about two years since, February, 1852, a trial took place at Genoa, Italy, for the " Abduction " of Miss Jane C. Gamble, 41, Portland-place, London, wherein I figured as the chief accused. Though it was proved on that occasion that Miss Gamble was actually betrothed to me at the time, and that my offence was no other than a harmless lover's trick, yet by unfair means, as I shall show, I was condemned by a Genoese Judge, without the intervention of a Jury, to fifteen months' imprisonment at Genoa. My respect for my
VI INTRODUCTION.
numerous friends both in my own country and Europe, would of itself be a sufficient motive to urge me to make an exposition of my case against this extreme act of legal rigour. But there are other reasons still stronger.
In March, 1852, a pamphlet was published in London affecting to give a report of the above Trial, but it was so studded with misrepresentation that the only object of the Publisher could have been to mislead the English public, and excite prejudice against me. One instance of this will suffice. The pamphlet stated on its title-page that I was arraigned for a " Conspiracy to effect a forced marriage with Miss Gamble," whereas I was simply accused, as the records of the Tribunal will show, of the " Abduction " of Miss Gamble, and her servant and mine were included in the charge as accessories. My servant, however, was acquitted.
Again in April, 1852, a publication appeared in the Daily News, a London Journal, purporting to be an accurate version of the incidents of my Courtship, and adding, besides, many details of the pretended " Abduction " of Miss Gamble that were not only odious, but in the highest degree criminal. For instance, I was accused of having sought to administer chloroform to Miss Gamble whilst in my apartment at Genoa, on November 15th, 1851. This narration was false from beginning to end, and its only purpose, as in the case of the pamphlet just mentioned, could have been to traduce and
INTRODUCTION. Vll
degrade me in the public esteem of this country, and my own.
Whence came the inspiration of these shameful calumnies I have not yet sought to ascertain, but my purpose still is to make them the subject of legal investigation.
The injurious effect of these publications wherever read must be apparent; and surely nothing can be considered more natural or excusable than my wish to show how little I have deserved such unprovoked hostility by putting forward an authentic statement of the facts of my singular case.
I should have taken this justifiable course long since, but for my extreme aversion to involve Miss Gamble in further publicity. With a view to spare her from annoyance I have passed an entire year in beseeching her to allow me to publish some statement, with her approbation, that would serve to exonerate me from the foulest imputations, and at the same time to screen her from a wider notoriety. I have received from Miss Gamble, indirectly, expressions of regret for what has occurred; but she has constantly refused to cooperate with me in any manner that would enable me to justify myself without compromising her. Under these circumstances I appeal frankly to the Public, and ask, whether I have not, after undergoing a cruel imprisonment of fifteen months in an Italian prison, exhibited forbearance enough to warrant me in showing my viii INTRODUCTION.
innocence of all illegal and unworthy conduct towards Miss Gamble, and which I have sought to prove beyond cavil or suspicion by adducing the disinterested testimony of persons of the highest rank, both English and Foreign ; further supported by documents that challenge scrutiny.
I deem it only just to state that both from Mrs. George Grote, and Mr. Joshua Bates, I have received, by letter, and otherwise, repeated assurances of sympathy and good will ; and I feel no doubt that when called upon hereafter they will cheerfully aid me in obtaining that reinstatement in public opinion to which I venture to think I am entitled.
I cannot but express my profound sorrow that a false notion of policy should induce Miss Gamble to deny me that moral reparation which I have so often and humbly sought at her hands. Having, under bad advice, been led into hostility against me, she fears, apparently, to involve herself in a false position by yielding to a more just and generous course of conduct. My standing in society, the esteem of my friends, and my prospects in life, depend upon the defence I am thus forced to make against the severest injuries, and unparalleled misrepresentation ; and whilst seeking to vindicate myself, I trust it will be seen that I have not wantonly sought to give pain and annoyance to others.
It may further be remembered by those who read the aforementioned trial, that the British Consul at Genoa,
INTRODUCTION.
Mr. Timothy Brown, publicly and solemnly denied on that occasion that I had ever been connected in any manner with the Foreign Office of this country. This flagrant misstatement injured me deeply at the time in the opinion of my Judge ; and to show how much at variance with the truth was the declaration of Mr. Timothy Brown, I am compelled to publish, in its place, a letter from H. U. Addington, Esq., Under Secretary of State, by direction of Viscount Palmerston, which abundantly proves the fact of my employment, the nature of it, and the emolument attached.
In fine, I count with entire confidence upon an impartial hearing from the English Public, whose love of fair-dealing and humanity are known and respected throughout the world. I place a due reliance upon the merits of my case, but I put still more in the fact that I am an American, standing alone on English soil, invoking Justice at the bar of English opinion.
HENRY WIKOFF.
N.B. — I deeply regret the necessity of making use of any private correspondence to elucidate and support my case, but when in the House of Commons last year, private letters were read in the affair of Lord Naas and Mr. Keogh, it was remarked by Lord John Russell, that however regrettable such an act might be, occasions arose that rendered it inevitable.— H.W.
HALF-MOON STREET, PICCADILLY, LONDON.
PART I. Voltaire on a Statue of Ctipid
AND
ITS CONSEQUENCES.
Chapter I
BEFORE beginning the narration of my Cceleb's Adventures in Search of a Wife, I may as well say a word of my first acquaintance with the fair object of my pursuit. It dates as far back, I am sorry for both of us to say, as eighteen years ago. On setting out on my European travels, in 1834, I received from Mr. Gillent Robertson, the British Consul at Philadelphia, whom I had known from my boyhood, several letters of introduction, and one of them, I observed, was addressed to Mr. James Dunlop, ofRussell Square, London. After making a tour of France and Italy, I reached England in the spring of 1835, and lost no time in presenting my letters, and the one in question amongst the rest. I thus made the acquaintance of a charming and interesting family. Mr. Dunlop was a Scotch gentleman, who had amassed a considerable fortune in the tobacco trade with America. His wife was an American lady, and they had an only son, James, of weak intellect, but amiable disposition. A fourth member of this pleasant circle, Miss Gamble, was a niece of Mrs. Dunlop, whojiad left her home in the United States some years pre-
B vious, to be adopted by her aunt, though she had been born in England from the accident of her parents travelling there at that moment. My acquaintance with these amiable persons grew rapidly ; and during the years 1836-37, at which period I was attached to the American Legation in London, T was in the constant habit of frequenting their house, both in town and country. The mild character of Mr. Dunlop, and the cheerful disposition of his wife, inspired me with great regard ; nor was it possible to remain wholly indifferent to the many attractions of their accomplished niece. To personal beauty of no ordinary kind, Miss Gamble added a very superior and highly-cultivated intellect, graceful manners, and a sprightly temper, which rendered her society at all times very seductive. If it be wondered at that I stood proof against so many charms, then at their culminating point, and which few did who oared to confront them, I would not have it set down either to my insensibility, or want of due appreciation. The fact was that I had not long before escaped from the tiresome discipline of a protracted University career. Having come into the control of au ample fortune, I felt disposed, instead of settling prematurely down in life, rather to carry out the ardent dream of my youth, and to devote some years to a wide tour of Europe. It will excite the incredulity of none who knew this engaging person at the time I am speaking of, to say that my intimate acquaintance with her left upon my mind impressions so deep and pleasing as to preserve them unimpaired through long succeeding years. With occasional intervals of absence from England, my delightful intercourse with the Dunlop family went on to the year 1840, when I returned to the United States. Not very long after this I learnt, to my profound sorrow, the death of Mr. Dunlop, which was followed in a few years later by that of his affectionate wife. Though in the habit of visiting Europe frequently at different periods after these sad events, I never had the good fortune to meet with my old and cherished acquaintance, Miss Gamble ; and it was only during the winter 1850, in Paris, that I learnt, from a mutual friend, that she was residing in London, and would be pleased to renew our former friendship. The suggestion was not lost upon me, as may be supposed ; and having occasion to come to London in the spring of '51 on business at the Foreign Office, I determined to employ my first leisure moments in the agreeable task of visiting my old friend.
LONDON.
IN order to correct much error and misrepresentation, I may as well state, en passant, that one motive, and not the only one, that brought me to London at this moment was to draw my quarter's salary at the Foreign Office, due on the 1st April. I was also the bearer of some diplomatic papers of no little importance. Having got through, as in duty bound, with my special business, I set about discovering the address of my former este emed acquaintance, Miss Gamble, which was the only agrement I promised myself, and I found it to be in Portland Place, 41.
It was the afternoon of April 3rd that I called, and the old butler of the family answered my knock. He recognised me
B 2 immediately. I was startled to see him attired in deep mourning, and asked in haste what had occurred, when he informed me that they had buried " Master James" only the day before. This was the only son, as I have mentioned, of my old friends Mr. and Mrs. Dunlop; and thus, of this amiable family I had once known so intimately Miss Gamble was the sole survivor. Leaving my card, with the expression of my sincere condolence for her bereavement, I went away, but wrote the next day to Miss Gamble to assure her of my pain at her afflicting loss, and further to say that, if her feelings permitted it, I should be most happy to pay her a visit before leaving London, which it was my purpose to do almost immediately. I was much gratified to receive the following reply the same evening : —
"Miss Gamble presents her compliments to Mr. Wikoff, and will be happy to see him any time before half-past two o'clock on Saturday or Sunday.
"41, Portland Place,
" April 6th."
" If more convenient, Miss Gamble would receive Mr. Wikoff on Sunday Evening."
I was flattered and touched by this prompt and cordiaj reply. In spite of her very recent misfortune, she was not only disposed to receive me, but showed her readiness to do so by assigning the day or the evening as might suit me best. It was clear that I was well and favorably remembered. I responded to this kind note by going immediately to Portland Place. It was natural, whilst waiting in the drawing-room, that I should experience no small emotion at this sudden renewal of my acquaintance with a person I had once known so well and esteemed so highly, but my satisfaction was tinged with melancholy at the thought that all the familiar faces I had been accustomed to see grouped around her had dropped away one after the other in the lapse of years. These triste reflections were scattered by the entrance of Miss Gamble, who welcomed me with great warmth. Our interview was long, and it is needless to say that we talked incessantly of old times, of past scenes, and of my excellent friends her uncle and aunt, who, she said, had always borne me in kindly recollection. I could not fail to remark that time, with its usual rudeness, had taken some liberties with the former fresh] and youthful visage of my fair friend, and she looked all the paler for her long and fatiguing duties in a sick chamber. Her manners, however, were as graceful, her conversation as brilliant as ever, whilst her mind had a firmer tone, the result of riper age and a more independent position. She complained of a keen sense of solitude, left all alone in the large house she was occupying, with no other companions than the old servants of the family.
I rose, at last, to take my leave, hardly knowing whether I should see her again, when she kindly bid me come and take tea with her on the following evening.
I went away rejoiced at this prompt recovery of my dear old friend, and feeling an interest in her welfare I had scarcely known before, and which I attributed to the lonely situation in which I found her. I was punctual to my invitation for tea on Sunday evening, and met a lady friend of Miss G. there. My hostess was in a livelier mood than the day before, and several hours soon passed away in pleasant conversation. Before going, she informed me of her intention to leave town at once for the sea-side, hoping that change of air and scene
B 3 would resuscitate her jaded spirits, and named Thursday ensuing for her departure. She was to be accompanied by
Mrs. L , an old friend of both of us, and her daughter.
I begged permission to call and bid her adieu ere she went, which was cheerfully granted. I did so on the Wednesday following, but had hardly entered the room when a visit was announced. I hastily expressed my regret at having lost the only opportunity of giving her some details of myself that I hoped might interest her, when she said she would be sure to see me again next month, at Paris, whither she was going en route to Switzerland for the summer. Soon after her new risitor called I withdrew.
I have often thought since that these agreeable interviews, following in quick succession, with a person bound to me by so many associations, the strongest of all ties, had done me more mischief than I was at all aware of at the time. The strongest emotions are usually the most imperceptible in their germination. All that I can now recall is, that I felt a lively regret at losing sight of her so abruptly, with all the uncertainty hanging over our rencontre at a future period.
It is clear that my restlessness, however vague, must have been very strong, for I jumped up early on the morning fixed for her departure, and wrote to ask if she would allow me to say " Good-bye" again, as I passed her place of sojourn on my return to Paris. There can be no great harm in this, I thought, surely. She cannot think for a moment that I have any particular object in wishing to see her again. My anxiety on this point made me suspect that I had ; I felt it was rather presumptuous to make the request in question ; after her late affliction, she might prefer the solitude so congenial to mournful meditation. Besides, she might consider it improper, though accompanied by a married woman, to receive the visit of a single man, albeit an old and intimate acquaintance. Still I was lured on by the tempting reflection that if she consented, that even if she did not refuse my desire, that I might infer — I hardly knew what. Off went my note, however, which 1 shaped in as diplomatic a manner as possible. After stating my request, I boldly asked at what hotel she would reside, thus taking her assent for granted. I hardly expected a reply, which I would likdy have interpreted into a favorable sign, on the strength of the old adage. An answer came, however, and nothing could be more satisfactory. It ran thus —
" Excuse this scrap — all my writing-paper is packed up. I believe there is only one hotel at Bournemouth. I am quite ignorant of the place — I am at breakfast, and expect my friends a Vinstant,
" Yours very truly,
"J. C. GAMBLE."
How delightfully familiar, I thought. Not the least objecr tion in the world. Says there is " only one hotel," which is as much to say, you can't miss it. What a fool I was to imagine she could object. Alas, how easily the head is turned with one success ! but it was the first.
I was not quite done with the matters that brought me over, and was detained in London for several days longer. Besides, I thought it prudent not to hurry too quickly down to Bournemouth, lest it might excite suspicion against me, and I was very solicitous on this point, as I believed myself entirely innocent of any motive save that of a mere friendly charactert Perhaps it was so. I loitered about London, then, a week longer, and without writing to say whether I was coming or not. This I thought would excite a little curiosity, if Miss G. Avas like other women. I took it into my head — and the deuce take my head for it — to call on an old friend during the week in question, and make revelation of what had occurred. As this person is destined to play a conspicuous part in my sad adventures, I had better introduce her at once to my reader.
In the year 1839, I encountered in the salons of M. Guizot, at Paris, Mr. and Mrs. George Grote of London. Mr. Grote was at that time M.P. for the city of London, and noted for his desperate devotion to the forlorn cause of the Ballot. I found him a very amiable and unassuming person, and not a little remarkable for his profound erudition. It is only true to say, however, that his wife interested me far more deeply. She was a singular -looking person, past middle age, apparently, very tall, abrupt in manner, and with a countenance denoting decision and strength of character. It was not her personal traits, therefore, that attracted me. I discgvered, though, as our acquaintance ripened, that her intellect for breadth and cultivation was far beyond the ordinary standard met amongst her sex. Her conversation had an elevation and force, even upon the most trifling subjects, that surprised and charmed me. Notwithstanding her somewhat stern and even masculine exterior, her nature seemed soft and kindly, and there was, besides, a dash of romance in her character that compelled her often to seek excitement in things or persons that were odd or eccentric. Fortunately, her fancy drew a sketch of me that resembled the original as little as fancy sketches usually do, but it served to interest her. On the
AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.
other hand, I was fascinated by her marvellous gifts of mind,* and hence a strong friendship sprung up between us, which, with occasional interruptions, had gone on to the moment,
* I could hardly give a more striking proof of Mrs. Grotc's very rare capacity than by quoting the following article from the Spectator of January 5, 1850, wherein she reviews with marked ability a political essay I had just published at Paris. The reader will pardon my vanity in making a quotation so much to my advantage, but it may serve as a. light set-off to the heavy amount of depreciation I have undergone : —
" FRENCH POLITICS.— La Presse is distinguished among Paris journals for an audacious self-reliance on journalist ability, and with the vices of audacity it possesses not a few of the good qualities of courage. It can, when so pleased, be candid ; and it has thus given circulation to a remarkable and interesting series of letters, by an American gentleman, on the Political Constitutions of England, the United States, and France under the actual Republic.
" Compared with the wearisome and pompous declamation of the Democratic organs, or with the mystical and high-flown homilies of Legitimacy, these letters claim a marked attention; coming as they do from a citizen of the greatest Republic ever organized since the world began ; from one schooled in its discipline, familiar with its machinery, and extensively conversant with its doctrines ; accustomed also to compare them both in their theory and in their practice vt ith the old institutions of Europe. Mr. Henry Wikoff has lived much with the French ; he admires their nation, and loves to dwell among them : hence his earnest longings to be useful, according to his ability, in assisting them to arrive at that most important blessing, a solid and well-constructed ^prm of government. Taking as the text of his first letter 'the Constitution of the United States,' he expounds the action of its respective forces in securing the nearest approach to liberty and equality ever beheld in the social state, coincidently with that security to life and property without which any government were a worthless pageant. We hardly know in what shape infraction on political philosophy could be rendered more available to the people than in the one Mr. "Wikoff has chosen. His exposition of the American apparatus of government is delivered in an unpretending, simple style, such as might characterize the description of machines or instruments in the pages of a scientific treatise. One is made to see so clearly the relation between the several parts, that ideas of mechanical laws unconsciously rise to the mind, and we half expect to see an
April, 1851, that I am speaking of. Not feeling quite sure that I was right in neglecting my diplomatic avocations in running after any chance fairies that might cross my path, illustrative cut, with ' A the cylinder, C the fly-wheel, F the revolving pinion, H the valve-index,' and so forth. Once familiar with the structure of a political constitution sanctioned hy experiment, the French people will be furnished with a model according to which their own may be made to fit its purpose ; although, starting from a condition less favourable to constructive organization than the colonial architects, some compromises must be made with ancient principles. It depends upon the French people, as a nation, how far these compromises shall extend ; and they may thank the author of the letters to La Presse for lending them a helping hand towards a better comprehension of their interests in respect to the nature of these compromises.
" The striking feature, we repeat, of these letters, is their transparent clearness; a feature in which the writers of the day in France, with all their talent, certainly do not shine. The view Mr. Wikoff has taken of the English constitutional course may be pronounced sagacious on the whole ; and it is instructive as tracing the conflict between the mighty elements of English life, Aristocracy and Democracy, through a long historical period, till the curious and indescribable thing which the English government has come to be, got into operation, to the despair of foreign statesmen and the misleading of foreign imitators. The New Yorker, however, is not quite so much at home in his subject when writing upon England ; but is hardly open to censure for incompleteness, seeing that he has treated a prodigious subject within the space of a few columns, and that without violating any important historical sequence, although he has necessarily overlooked a vast number of intermediate and connecting links.
" But the really essential lesson to be inculcated on the French nation is, not so much how their new framework of civil government should be put together, as how it should be worked and applied to its purpose when set up. For here lies the formidable difficulty with that people, so insidiously cheated of their hopes by each successive dynasty, and so unfairly reproached by lookers-on for manifesting discontent under their disappointments.
" It is to no purpose that the French people make revolutions, since the government which succeeds contrives to get back into the vicious track of its expelled predecessor ; or, if not into the same, into a course no less though this one looked very harmless in her deep mourning, I determined to go and hold counsel with Mis, Grote. If she advised me to stick to business, as I thought likely, and fatal to national credit and tranquillity. The moral to be deduced from this is twofold. Some will choose to affirm that this fact proves how much wiser the people would show themselves if they would let revolutions alone, and submit to the unavoidable evils of bad governors. Others, more keenly alive to the principles of equity and the reciprocal duties of governors and governed, will adopt the maxim that care must be taken in reforming a government to put at the head of it persons interested in its going on successfully and healthily. But this is just what cannot be hoped for in the case of the present Republic of France.
" In that beautiful country, rich in all the elements which can constitute earthly happiness and solid prosperity, there unhappily wants a steadfast desire for the growth and permanent establishment of the actual government. The whole of the upper class of Frenchmen, from the President down to the Lecturer on Botany at the Academy of Dijon, are in a tacit league to the end that the Republic shall not stand. In th« face of such a coalition, what are the working classes to do ? Is it conceivable, we would ask, that, under the original American constitution even, a Republic could have got on its legs, if Washington, if Jefferson, Adams, and Franklin, and that class of political men, had looked unkindly upon its birth ? What made the infant Republic spring to vigorous life ? what made the constitution gradually evolve itself into effective operation after the Convention of 1787-8-9 ?
" It was the cordial patriotism of the American statesmen, principal no less than secondary, which mainly brought about the success of that memorable experiment: it is the absence of this element in France — patriotic singleness of purpose, and a disposition to accept the present fabric as her permanent destiny — which, it is to be feared, will hinder it from taking root in her soil, or in the attachment of her sons. Can anything be more disheartening than to see a noble man-of-war betrayed by her officers ? Yet such will be the spectacle offered by the Republic of France, unless some means can be found to frustrate the combination formed against it by every cluster of parties engaged in public life.
"It is not difficult to specify in what consists the disposition to abolish this government. Every attentive observer can see that it is not rich enough to corrupt the hungry harpies who supported the late system. Their support is withdrawn, whilst that of no other party can be relied on ;
not to give way to the charm of old recollections, then, I fully determined to send an apology down to Bournemouth, and start off directly to Paris. Mrs. G. listened quietly to my simple recital, and then inquired my object in going out of my way to say adieu when it had been already said. I could give no satisfactory explanation of this, but, unfortunately, she said there was no great harm in that, which exactly echoed my own thought. I half suspect that Mrs. Grote thought that, happen what might in consequence, there could only come of it a little harmless amusement and occupation for her. She had both, and more than she had expected ; but what was often fun to her, was sore perplexity to me.
The opening of the book is shown; the full text loads in the reader.
Loading the full text…
The end
You’ve reached the end of My courtship and its consequences; and revelations from the foreign office.
