Tarlton Law Library
Jamail Center for Legal Research

     THE next day as, with nerves unstrung and an exhausted brain, I
entered my office, I was greeted by the announcement:
     "A gentleman, sir, in your private room — been waiting some time,
very impatient."
     Weary, in no mood to hold consultation with clients new or old, I
advanced with anything but an eager step towards my room, when, upon
opening the door, I saw — Mr. Clavering.
     Too much astounded for the moment to speak, I bowed to him silently,
whereupon he approached me with the air and dignity of a highly bred
gentleman, and presented his card, on which I saw written, in free and
handsome characters, his whole name, Henry Ritchie Clavering. After
this introduction of himself, he apologized for making so unceremonious
a call, saying, in excuse, that he was a stranger in town; that his
business was one of great urgency; that he had casually heard
honorable mention of me as a lawyer and a gentleman, and so had
ventured to seek this interview on behalf of a friend who was so
unfortunately situated as to require the opinion and advice of a lawyer
upon a question which not only involved an extraordinary state of

facts, but was of a nature peculiarly embarrassing to him, owing to his
ignorance of American laws, and the legal bearing of these facts upon
the same.
     Having thus secured my attention, and awakened my curiosity, he
asked me if I would permit him to relate his story. Recovering in a
measure from my astonishment, and subduing the extreme repulsion,
almost horror, I felt for the man, I signified my assent; at which he
drew from his pocket a memorandum-book from which he read in 
substance as follows:
     "An Englishman travelling in this country meets, at a fashionable
watering-place, an American girl, with whom he falls deeply in love,
and whom, after a few days, he desires to marry. Knowing his position
to be good, his fortune ample, and his intentions highly honorable, he
offers her his hand, and is accepted. But a decided opposition arising
in the family to the match, he is compelled to disguise his sentiments,
though the engagement remained unbroken. While matters were in this
uncertain condition, he received advices from England demanding his
instant return, and, alarmed at the prospect of a protracted absence
from the object of his affections, he writes to the lady, informing her
of the circumstances, and proposing a secret marriage. She consents
with stipulations; the first of which is, that he should leave her
instantly upon the conclusion of the ceremony, and the second, that he
should intrust the public declaration of the marriage to her. It was
not precisely what he wished, but anything which served to make her his
own was acceptable at such a crisis. He readily enters into the plans
proposed. Meeting the lady at a parsonage, some twenty miles from the
watering-place at which she was staying, he stands up with her before a

Methodist preacher, and the ceremony of marriage is performed. There
were two witnesses, a hired man of the minister, called in for the
purpose, and a lady friend who came with the bride; but there was no
license, and the bride had not completed her twenty-first year. Now,
was that marriage legal? If the lady, wedded in good faith upon that
day by my friend, chooses to deny that she is his lawful wife, can he
hold her to a compact entered into in so informal a manner? In short,
Mr. Raymond, is my friend the lawful husband of that girl or not?"
     While listening to this story, I found myself yielding to feelings
greatly in contrast to those with which I greeted the relator but a
moment before. I became so interested in his "friend's" case as to
quite forget, for the time being, that I had ever seen or heard of
Henry Clavering; and after learning that the marriage ceremony took
place in the State of New York, I replied to him, as near as I can
remember, in the following words: "In this State, and I believe it to
be American law, marriage is a civil contract, requiring neither
license, priest, ceremony, nor certificate—and in some cases
witnesses are not even necessary to give it validity. Of old, the modes
of getting a wife were the same as those of acquiring any other species
of property, and they are not materially changed at the present time.
It is enough that the man and woman say to each other, 'From this time
we are married,' or, 'You are now my wife,' or, 'my husband,' as the
case may be. The mutual consent is all that is necessary. In fact, you
may contract marriage as you contract to lend a sum of money, or to buy
the merest trifle."
     "Then your opinion is—"
     "That upon your statement, your friend is the lawful husband of
the lady in question; presuming, of 

course, that no legal disabilities of either party existed to prevent such a 
union. As to the young lady's age, I will merely say that any fourteen-year
-old girl can be a party to a marriage contract."
     Mr. Clavering bowed, his countenance assuming a look of great
satisfaction. "I am very glad to hear this," said he; "my friend's
happiness is entirely involved in the establishment, of his marriage."
     He appeared so relieved, my curiosity was yet further aroused. I
therefore said: "I have given you my opinion as to the legality of
this marriage; but it may be quite another thing to prove it, should
the same be contested."
     He started, cast me an inquiring look, and murmured:
     "True."
     "Allow me to ask you a few questions. Was the lady married under
her own name?"
     "She was."
     "The gentleman?"
     "Yes, sir."
     "Did the lady receive a certificate?"
     "She did."
     "Properly signed by the minister and witnesses?"
     He bowed his head in assent.
     "Did she keep this?"
     "I cannot say; but I presume she did."
     "The witnesses were—"
     "A hired man of the minister—"
     "Who can be found?"
     "Who cannot be found."
     "Dead or disappeared?"
     "The minister is dead, the man has disappeared."
     "The minister dead!"

     "Three months since."
     "And the marriage took place when?"
     "Last July."
     "The other witness, the lady friend, where is she?"
     "She can be found; but her action is not to be depended upon."
     "Has the gentleman himself no proofs of this marriage?"
     Mr. Clavering shook his head. "He cannot even prove he was in the
town where it took place on that particular day."
     "The marriage certificate was, however, filed with the clerk of the
town?" said I.
     "It was not, sir."
     "How was that?"
     "I cannot say. I only know that my friend has made inquiry, and
that no such paper is to be found."
     I leaned slowly back and looked at him. "I do not wonder your
friend is concerned in regard to his position, if what you hint is
true, and the lady seems disposed to deny that any such ceremony ever
took place. Still, if he wishes to go to law, the Court may decide in
his favor, though I doubt it. His sworn word is all he would have to go
upon, and if she contradicts his testimony under oath, why the sympathy
of a jury is, as a rule, with the woman."
     Mr. Clavering rose, looked at me with some earnestness, and finally
asked, in a tone which, though somewhat changed, lacked nothing of its
former suavity, if I would be kind enough to give him in writing that
portion of my opinion which directly bore upon the legality of the
marriage; that such a paper would go far towards satisfying his friend
that his case had been 

properly presented; as he was aware that no respectable lawyer would 
put his name to a legal opinion without first having carefully arrived at his 
conclusions by a thorough examination of the law bearing upon the facts 
submitted.
     This request seeming so reasonable, I unhesitatingly complied with
it, and handed him the opinion. He took it, and, after reading it
carefully over, deliberately copied it into his memorandum-book. This
done, he turned towards me, a strong, though hitherto subdued, emotion
showing itself in his countenance.
     "Now, sir," said he, rising upon me to the full height of his
majestic figure, "I have but one more request to make; and that is,
that you will receive back this opinion into your own possession, and
in the day you think to lead a beautiful woman to the altar, pause and
ask yourself: 'Am I sure that the hand I clasp with such impassioned
fervor is free? Have I any certainty for knowing that it has not
already been given away, like that of the lady whom, in this opinion of
mine, I have declared to be a wedded wife according to the laws of my
country? '"
     "Mr. Clavering!"
     But he, with an urbane bow, laid his hand upon the knob of the door.
"I thank you for your courtesy, Mr. Raymond, and I bid you good-day. I
hope you will have no need of consulting that paper before I see you
again." And with another bow, he passed out.
     It was the most vital shock I had yet experienced; and for a moment
I stood paralyzed. Me! me! Why should he mix me up with the affair
unless — but I would not contemplate that possibility. Eleanore
married, and to this man? No, no; anything but that! 

And yet I found myself continually turning the supposition over in my 
mind until, to escape the torment of my own conjectures, I seized my hat, 
and rushed into the street in the hope of finding him again and extorting from 
him an explanation of his mysterious conduct. But by the time I reached the
sidewalk, he was nowhere to be seen. A thousand busy men, with their
various cares and purposes, had pushed themselves between us, and I 
was obliged to return to my office with my doubts unsolved.
     I think I never experienced a longer day; but it passed, and at
five o'clock I had the satisfaction of inquiring for Mr. Clavering
at the Hoffman House. Judge of my surprise when I learned
that his visit to my office was his last action before taking passage
upon the steamer leaving that day for Liverpool; that he was now on the
high seas, and all chance of another interview with him was at an end.
I could scarcely believe the fact at first; but after a talk with the
cabman who had driven him off to my office and thence to the steamer, I
became convinced. My first feeling was one of shame. I had been brought
face to face with the accused man, had received an intimation from him
that he was not expecting to see me again for some time, and had weakly
gone on attending to my own affairs and allowed him to escape, like the
simple tyro that I was. My next, the necessity of notifying Mr. Gryce
of this man's departure. But it was now six o'clock, the hour set apart
for my interview with Mr. Harwell. I could not afford to miss that, so
merely stopping to despatch a line to Mr. Gryce, in which I promised to
visit him that evening, I turned my steps towards home. I found Mr.
Harwell there before me.