MATRIMONY IN PRISON.

Wairarapa Standard, Volume II, Issue 55, 18 January 1868, Page 3

MATRIMONY IN PRISON.

Ih some respects the women of Great Britian possess advantages unknown to females in any other part of the world. This peculiarity struck me tvhen it was explained to me that only Englishman fight for their wives and often labour for their maintenance, but they are strictly responsible for their debts; and thus a poor husband may linger in, prison, while the wife may remain free in the full enjoyment of every luxury. This was forcibly brought before me by a strange accident. . Old Lady C. had sent me a very kind invitation to visit the celebrated ruins which attract hosts of visitors to her small but picturesque estates. I happened to mention the circumstances to an old Irishman whorii I have lately hired as a valet and interpreter, posts which he hlllides to Under the moire sonorous title of secretary, and he at once btist out—

‘ Sure, my Lord, you know about that queer old lady and her Fleet marriage ? ’ ( ‘Not I! If there’s anything strange about it, at once relate it.’

1 I’ll do so,’ said he; and thus he began ‘ Lady C. was hj beautiful women; but Lady C. was an extravagant woman. She was still single though past extreme youth. Like most pretty females, she had looked to high, had esteemed her own loveliness too dearly, and now she refused to believe that she was not as charming as ever. No wonder she still remained unmarried.

‘Lady C. had about'five thousand pounds iii the world. She owed about forty thousand pounds; so, with all her wit and beauty, she got into the Fleet, and Vvas likely to remain there.

‘ Notv, in the time I speak of, evCry lady had her head dressed by a barber, and the barber of the Fleet was the handsomest barber

in the city of London, Put Philian was a great admirer of the fair sex; and where the wonder Sure Pat Was'an Irishman. It was one very fine morning, when Philan was addressing her captivating head, that her ladyship look it into Kef mind to. talk to him, and Pat was well pleased; for' LadyC.’s teeth wefe the whitest, and her' shiile the brightest in the world. I , ■* So you’r not married, Pat ? ’ says she. % ‘ Divil an inch, • your honour s ladyship, says he, . 1 And wonld’t ye like to get married ? again asked she. ‘ Would a duck swim ? ’

‘ Is there anyone you’d prefer ? ’ ‘Maybe Madam,’ says he, ‘you never heard of Kathleen O’Reilly, down beyant Doneraile ? Her father’s own cousin to the O’Donaghue, who’s mm steward to Mr. Murphy,'the under-agent to my Lord Kington, and—' 1

‘ Hush! ’ says she, * sure I don’t want to know who she is. Blit would she have you if you asked her ? ’ ‘ Ah, thin, I,d only wish I’d he after Buying that same.’ ‘ And why don’t you ? ’ ‘ Sure I’m too poor.’ And Philian heaved a prodigious sigh. * Would you like to he rich ? ’ ‘ Does a dog bark ? ’ ■■ ■ ‘ If I make you rich will you do as I tell ye. ‘ AlLlle "murthers! your honor don t be tantalising a poor boy.’ ‘ Indeed, I’m not,’ said Lady G. . ‘So listen. How would you like to marry me ? ’ ■ ‘Ah, thin, my lady, I believe the King of Russia himself would be proud to that same, lave alones a poor divil like pat Philian. ‘ Well, Philian, if 'you’ll marry me tomorrow, I’ll give you one thousand pounds. ‘Oh! whilabaloo! whilabaloo! sure I’m mad, or enchanted by the good people,’ roared Pat, dancing round the room. ‘But there are conditions,’ says Lady V. After the first day of our nuptialsyou must never see me again, nbr claim me for your wife.’ ‘ I don’t like that,’ says Pat; for he had been ogling her ladyship most dreadfully. _ ‘ But remember Kathleen O’Reilly. With thb money I’ll give you you may go and marry her.’ ‘ That’s thrue,’says he. ‘But, thin, the bigamy! ’ “ I’ll never appear against you,’ says her ladyship. ‘Only remember that you must take an oath never to call me your wife , after to-morrow, and never tc go telling all the story’ . “ Div’l a word I’ll ivir say.’ ‘ Well, then,’ says she, ‘ there’s ten pounds. Go and buy a license, and leave the rest to me; and then she explained to him where he was to go, and when be was to come and all that. ‘ The next day Pat was true to his appointment, and found two gentlemen already with her ladyship. , ‘ Have you got ; the license,? ’ says she. ‘ Here it is, ray lady,’, says he, and he gave it to her. She handed it to one of the gentlemen who viewed it attentively. Then calling on her two servants, she turned to the gentlemen who was reading. ‘ Perform the Ceremony,’ says she. ‘And, sure enough, in ten minutes Pat Philan was the husband, the legal husband ot the lovely Lady C. ‘ That will do,’ says she tb lier'new husband as he gave her a hearty kiss; ‘ thdt’ll do. Now, sir, give me my marriage certificate. ‘ The old gentlemen did so, and bowing respectfully to the five pound note she gave him, he retired with his clerk; for sure enough I forgot to tell you he was a parson. ‘Go and bring me the, warden,’ says my lady to one of her servants. ‘ Yes, my lady,’ says she; and presently the warden appeared. ‘Will you be good enough,’ says Lady C. in a voice that would call a bird off a tree, ‘ will you be good enough to send and fetch me a hackney-coach? I wish to leave this prison immediately.’ ‘ Your ladyship forgets,’ replied he, ‘ that you must pay forty thousand pounds before I can let you go.’ . , , ‘ I am a married women.T You can detain my husband but not me.’ And she smiled at Philan, who began rather to dislike the appearance of things. ‘Pardon me, my lady, it is well known you are single.’ ‘ I tell you I am married.’ ‘ Where’s your husband ? ’ ‘there, sir!’ and she pointed to the Astonished barber; ‘ there he stands. Here is my marriage certificate, which you can peruse at your leisure. My servants yonder were Witnesses to the ceremony. Now, detain me, sir, one instant, at your peril! ’ ‘ The warden was dumfounded, and no wonder. Poor Philan would have spoken, but neither party would let. him. . The lawyer below was consulted. The result was evident. In half an hour Lady C. was free, and Pat Philan, her legitimate hosband, a prisoner for debt to the about of forty thousand pounds.

‘ Well, sir, for some time Pat thought he was in a dream, and the creditors thought they were still worse. Tne following day they held a meeting, and finding how they had been tricked, swore they’d detain Pat. for ever. But as they well knew that lie had nothing, and wouldn’t feel much shame in going through the insolvent court, they made the best of a had bargain, and let him out.

‘ Well,.you must know, about a week after this, Paddy Philan was sitting by his little fire and thinking over the wonderful things he had seen, when, as sure as death, the postman brought him a letter,, the first lie had ever received, which he took over to a friend of his’ one Ryan, a fruit seller—because, you see, he was no great hand at reading writing—to decipher for him. It ran thus ‘Go to Doneraile and marry Kathleen O’Reilly. The instant the knot is tied I fulfil,my promise of making you comfortable for life. But, as you value your life and liberty, never breathe a syllable of what has passed. Remember, you arc in my power if you tell the story. The money will he paid to you directly you enclose Ine your 'marriage certificate. I send you fifty pounds for present expenses.’

‘ Oh, happy Paddy ! Didn’t he get drunk that same night, and didn’t he start next day for Cork, and didn’t he marry Kathleen, and touch a thousand pounds ? By .the powers he did. And what is more he took a cottage, which perhaps you know, north 'one hundred miles from Buff, in the country of Limerick; and, i’ faix, he forgot is first wife clean and entirely, and never told anyone but myself, under a promise of secrecy, the story of his ‘ Fleet marriage.’