فصل 01

CHAPTER ONE

Life in the Court of Chancery

LONDON. A cold, grey November day with thick fog and mud everywhere. Smoke from the dark chimneys produces a soft black rain and the sun hides somewhere in the fog. Dogs, horses, men and women - everything and everyone is lost in the fog.

The bleak afternoon is bleakest, and the thick fog is thickest, and the muddy streets are muddiest near the Court of Chancery. This is often described as the most dangerous, the most destructive, the most awful place in heaven or on earth. Wise men say, ‘Whatever harm is done to you, do not think of coming here!’

But isn’t this a court of justice? Yes, but justice is rarely found here and never quickly. The Lord High Chancellor sits above the noisy crowd and stares out of the window, seeing only fog. The lawyers arrive with their endless arguments. A crowd of suitors comes every day, waiting for a judgement in their cases, which continue for another day, another month, another year. The lawyers grow rich; the suitors die and leave their troubles for their children and grandchildren. Be warned: Chancery destroys lives!

On this typically dull, bleak afternoon, the Court is listening to the most recent arguments in Jarndyce and Jarndyce, the most famous case in Chancery. There is more than one will, but which is the legal one? Who is the true heir to the Jarndyce fortune? The court has not been able to decide, and the lawyers continue to find more and more points to argue about. The fortune grows smaller as the costs continue to climb. The last Lord Chancellor said there would be a decision in Jarndyce and Jarndyce when potatoes rained from the sky - an opinion that amused everyone.

The present Chancellor is bored; he looks out into the fog and speaks to one of the regular lawyers. ‘Have you finished your argument, Mr Tangle?’

‘No, my lord. There are several more points that need to be made and several more of my brother lawyers who will speak.’

Hearing Tangle’s words, eighteen more lawyers stand and wave their papers in the direction of the Lord High Chancellor.

‘We will continue in two weeks,’ the Chancellor commands sleepily, before leaving the courtroom without a backward look. As usual, nothing has happened in the case of Jarndyce and Jarndyce, but behind the scenes, in the great man’s private office, something is going to happen that is connected to this case.

Mr Tulkinghorn, a lawyer who is known across the land, leaves Chancery and goes straight to the London house of Sir Leicester Dedlock, one of his many rich and important clients. The lawyer wears old-fashioned knee-length trousers, a long coat and a tall hat - all in a dull, dusty black.

The clothes are like the man himself. He is very formal and not at all friendly, although he is often a guest in stylish London apartments and great country houses. He listens and learns, safely locking information away for future use. He speaks only when there is a professional reason for doing so. His secretive methods work well, and by them he has grown very rich and powerful. His clients would be surprised by the amount of knowledge he has of their lives and by the power he holds over them.

Mr Tulkinghorn is the type of man that Sir Leicester has a good opinion of. He is completely British: honest, rich and traditional. And no one knows more about Britishness than Sir Leicester. He is proud of the fact that his family is as old as the hills; the world might continue without hills, but would break down completely without Dedlocks. Mr Tulkinghorn understands Sir Leicester perfectly, and their professional relationship could not be better.

At the age of sixty-six Sir Leicester is at least twenty years older than his very beautiful, very fashionable wife, Lady Honoria Dedlock, but he is energetic in body and mind. In addition to keeping a watchful eye on conditions around the country and knowing which politicians to believe, Sir Leicester, more than anything else, loves his home and his wife. In fact, unlike many men of his class, he married for love, and his love for his wife has never decreased, although she did not bring money or position to her marriage, and she and her husband have no children.

My Lady finds most people and places painfully boring as she moves between the Dedlock country house and London or Paris, searching for something to make her days brighter. She is often sad, but she never speaks of her feelings. She is a good wife, and the public agrees with her husband’s very high opinion of her character.

Tulkinghorn is among the many people who greatly admire Lady Dedlock, but he wisely keeps a polite distance between himself and the great lady. On this occasion, though, as on many others, he has a professional reason to speak to her about Jarndyce and Jarndyce. Lady Dedlock has some interest in the case and could receive a small piece of property if it is decided soon.

‘My Lady’s argument has been heard by the Chancellor again, has it, Mr Tulkinghorn?’ asks Sir Leicester as he shakes his lawyer’s hand.

‘Yes, although as usual nothing important has been done. But because you are leaving soon for Paris, I have brought the most recent papers connected to the case,’ says Mr Tulkinghorn, placing some legal documents on a table near Lady Dedlock.

My Lady moves away from the hot fire and looks down at the papers. One sheet catches her attention, and she takes a second look.

‘Who copied that piece?’ she asks, not stopping to think.

Mr Tulkinghorn, surprised by Lady Dedlock’s sudden interest, replies, ‘Someone from Mr Snagsby’s shop. Why do you ask?’

‘No reason. It is so boring, isn’t it?’ She has turned away from the table, not wanting to appear interested in the document. But then she suddenly turns pale and says, ‘I’m afraid I’m not well. The heat… don’t speak to me… I must go to my room.’

Back in London, the great judge greets three young people who are waiting in his private rooms. The first is a nineteen-year-old man with a handsome, friendly face. The second is his cousin, although they are not close relatives and only met an hour ago. She is an innocent, beautiful girl of seventeen with rich golden hair and soft blue eyes. The third young person is also a stranger to the other two and is not a relative. She is twenty years old and noticeable for her look of kindness and intelligence.

Mr Kenge, a lawyer acting for Mr John Jarndyce of Hertfordshire, introduces the three young people to the Lord High Chancellor. They are Mr Richard Carstone, Miss Ada Clare - both suitors in the case of Jarndyce and Jarndyce - and Miss Esther Summerson.

‘What business have they for me?’ asks the great judge.

‘Mr John Jarndyce, the third living suitor in Jarndyce and Jarndyce, is a cousin of the first two orphans, Mr Carstone and Miss Clare. He intends to take care of them and requests that they come to live with him at Bleak House, near the town of St Albans.’

‘Is Mr Jarndyce married?’ asks the judge.

‘He is not, my lord,’ says Mr Kenge, ‘but Mr Jarndyce has financially supported Miss Summerson, another orphan but not a member of the family, for the last six years. She will share Miss Ada’s and Mr Richard’s life at Bleak House now that she has completed her studies at Greenleaf School.’

‘Very well! Mr John Jarndyce of Bleak House has chosen, it seems, a very good friend for Miss Ada Clare,’ the Chancellor begins, looking at Esther. ‘And the other arrangements at Bleak House appear to be suitable for these three orphans. Mr Kenge, I leave them in your care.’

Although they only met a few hours earlier in the offices of Kenge and Carboy, Richard, Ada and Esther leave the Court of Chancery like three happy children on a big adventure. Mr Jarndyce’s plans for them are still a little mysterious, but they liked each other immediately and now feel very hopeful about starting their new life at Bleak House together.

‘Oh! The young wards in Jarndyce! Very happy, I am sure, to meet you! It is a good sign when hope and beauty come together in this place,’ says an old woman as she steps in front of the little group.

This is Miss Flite. Perhaps she was a suitor in a case in Chancery a long time ago, perhaps not, but now she goes to the court every day and follows the arguments in Jarndyce and Jarndyce very closely.

‘Mad!’ whispers Richard.

‘Right, young man,’ replies Miss Flite, who has heard his words. ‘I was a young ward myself and not mad at that time. I had hope and, I believe, beauty, but they did not save me. Please accept my good wishes for a judgement in your case.’

‘We will leave that to the court, Miss Flite,’ Mr Kenge answers politely. ‘But now my assistant, Mr Guppy, will take them to Mrs Jellyby’s for the night.’

‘Who is Mrs Jellyby?’ Richard asks, as the three orphans follow Mr Guppy through the narrow streets.

‘She is well known for the work she does for poor people, especially in Borrioboola-Gha. I believe that Mr Jarndyce, who is interested in helping the poor and needy, has a high opinion of her good work.’ Then, walking beside Miss Summerson, Mr Guppy continues, ‘Quite a foggy day, isn’t it, miss?’ He seems to be taking a special interest in the young lady.

‘The fog is certainly very thick!’ Esther replies.

‘But it has no harmful effect on you, miss,’ Mr Guppy continues politely. ‘In fact, it seems to do you good, miss, if I can judge by your appearance.’