The Anatomist - Bill Hayes [91]
Though she had inexplicably sworn she was a widow, her first husband was, in fact, very much alive. Was she now technically married to two men?
The marriage was not published in the papers. We had no visitors; the witnesses were two men hastily summoned, one a (coloured) general practitioner…and the other a Mr. Antone (Portuguese,) then secretary of the Bible and Trust Society…. I was in uniform.
Only now does he give her name.
She was called Harriet Bushell, (the name of her former husband).
Soon after I wrote to my Father and told him I was married, her name, and previous residence at the Cape, but nothing more. The circumstances which urged me to this step were my own feeling of the wrong state of things; her refusal to leave though offered a large income (£200 per annum) and constant suggestions; the risk of losing appointment and even more if things went on this way; and the hope that matters would then become straight. This, [the other Dr.] Carter, who called once or twice, assessed would be the case. But the act was possible only because of my weakness and at the time, utter blindness of the fault of false swearing.
Next, Carter examines his own conscience again.
I have a vivid recollection of driving to the Fort, joking with the Registrar, who suspecting no evil, made no opposition whatever. I believe an oath was taken and when her state had to be mentioned, the word “widow”—almost as far as I recollect improperly, though it must have been and really had been talked of between us—was written.
Long previous to this, a letter was sent to Capt. R. partly of my dictation, at her request, bidding him adieu…. Also, long before this, H. had I think had an abortion. But exactly at this time she seems to have conceived, as our baby was born almost within a few days, nine months hence—this striking concurrence was not without its effect, it seemed like Providence smiling on our sin….
On 14th September, 1860-the baby (girl) was born. Only a nurse and myself present. No congratulations. It was put in the papers—no one, except Campbell of the Asylum, made any enquiry to me.
In the winter, as money was getting short, for economy’s sake (and it turned out to be no economy) we went into a house in the Bellase’s Road which I furnished (£60). Sold the carriage and afterwards the shigram and horses. I had then to tramp about on foot to my work. And in January became almost sick—such a life of disquiet, indulgence, and folly.
In late spring 1861, Harriet and H. V. Carter (who was by now thirty years old) moved for the eighth time in two years, this time into a hotel owned by Mr. W. S. Sebright Green, “a solicitor, dabbling in speculation.” As rumors about Harriet could not be dismissed, Green eventually lodged a formal accusation against Carter for bringing her into his establishment.
At last, in July a fracas ensued. I was branded by Green as a blackguard and liar…. This left me terribly cut up…. Court of enquiry and the loss of my commission threatened.
A “court of enquiry” is a military court that looks into military matters, such as an officer’s questionable conduct. John Peet, mentioned in the next sentence, was the acting principal at Grant Medical College.
Peet then interested himself, and [the other Dr.] Carter, who saw the real state of things. An explanation and an apology followed. But I was compelled to sign a promise that H. and I should at once live separate. Delaying, a notice to quit from the George Hotel came, and I took a house at Chinchpoogly for her, myself occupying rooms at the Hope Hall Hotel.