work; sometimes she sent him to the kitchen
on menial errands, when he would address
the servants there assembled in such a speech
as this: " My wife, Jane, desires me to count
the pots and pans, as you are all robbing us!"
and, said the inflamed relations in a passionate
protest against such treatment of their dear
friend and patron, "It would appear from his
manner and expressions on such occasions, that
he acted as a mere instrument in the hands of
a domineering and tyrannical woman; awed and
used by her as she felt necessary, for
accomplishing her design of totally depriving him
of free agency of thought and independent
action." If the poor man gave an order, she
countermanded it, telling them to do as she
told them. Once more, "her frequent and
familiar expression" was, "by God it shall be
so, and by God it shant be so"—and he was
seen trembling before her. A sympathising
builder said he seemed " as a child under a
parent."

The instructions and " general orders" of
those who managed the case are highly
characteristic, and give an idea of the strategy by
which great cases are carried. A gentleman
with a " J.P." and "D.L.," hanging like
decorations at the end of his name, was specially
recommended to the judicious handling of
counsel. " Mr.——'s description of the
complete subjugation of testator to the domineering
will of his wife, is inimitable. His cowardice
in her presence cannot be expressed in its true
light, except by the production of Mr.——on
the witness table." But they bewailed the fact
that he was suffering from " a personal and
inconvenient complaint," which would prevent
his attendance. This distinction of a "personal
complaint" is rather good; and the writer may
have been nearly related to another solicitor,
who, when places of resort were being
compared, protested that, as to natural charms of
scenery, &c., "he gave his veto"—pronounced
"vaito"—"for Switzerland." This witness was
able to report conversations dramatically, and
the House of Lords must have had great
amusement reading over this odd chronicle:

Mr. Coclough. My dear fellow, what can I
do? My wife says she won't remain; she will
leave me.

Mr.——. It is not to be expected she would
remain in a rat-hole like this. You must build a
proper house and make it comfortable, and
then she will remain.

Mr. C. Why, my dear friend, I told her I
would expend ten thousand pounds on a house
if she would consent to live with me in it; but
she would not on any terms. What am I
to do?

Mr.——. Nevermind that. Build the house
first, make the house suitable, and, having done
your duty, you will know how to insist quietly
that your wife shall do hers.

Mr. C. My motto is, "Peace before
Prosperity."

At this point Mrs. Coclough entered the room
unexpectedly. The husband at once repeated
the good advice he had received.

Mrs. C. Mr.——! Mr.——! what can my
husband do by residing with his tenantry?
What good can he do? What good can he do?

She went over this question many times. Mr.
Coclough was then prudently withdrawing,
when she turned on him. "Mr. Coclough! Mr.
Coclough! what good can you do?—what can
you do?" &c. Mr. Coclough made her the next
retort, that she might do good by letting him
remain. But Mr.——stated that " he then
withdrew as quickly as possible." When Mr.——
was living in London as a bachelor, his old
friend often came to see him, but never was
permitted to go up-stairs without his wife.

At last it came to the year 1842, when the
testator began to fail, and there seemed a
chance that all his wife's schemes—if schemes
they were—were to be crowned with success.
He was busy with his chemicals and experiments
when he felt sick. On the 4th of August the
will-making began, perhaps the most unique
series of these documents yet known. On that
day it was settled that the wife should have
the handsome jointure of five thousand a year,
while the estates were to go to his heir-at-law.
This document was put by carelessly in an open
wardrobe. Then a doctor, acting, perhaps, in the
interests of the future widow, suggested that the
Cheltenham mansion, Boteler House, might be
advantageously bequeathed to her. And on the
next day, August 4, will number two was
prepared and duly signed, in which the alteration
was made.

Now came the most sudden change. Early
the following morning the same solicitor was sent
for. The night before, as the signature was
affixed, it was remembered that he said to the
solicitor that his wife was to have no more than
her annuity. Perhaps some of her allies reported
this speech to her; however this was, some
bold course of action, some prompt coup de
main, reversed all. The night before, the
needy relations were secured a fine estate; the
next morning, when the solicitor returned, the
testator walked into the room and announced
that he had made up his mind to leave
everything to his wife. It was accordingly so done.
Three weeks later he died. The lady kept
strict guard over him lest a fourth will should
come into existence, and though witnesses
about his bed heard him utter faint wishes
that his " own people" were with him, the
vigilant lady was at hand to interpret these
sounds as some of his old French speeches, and
"as a request for his pocket-handkerchief." It
was he who made a most dramatic sick-bed
complaint " that it was dreadful when two
burning pains meet." Finally, he gave up the
ghost, and the baffled relatives had to pass
through that terrible interval of suspense
between the death and the opening of the will.
It is far more intense and protracted than the
time for the gambler between setting down his
money, and the turning of the card. Then
they learned the worst, and we may suppose,
bowing their heads, uttered certain expressions,
not loud, but deep.

The heir-at-law at first seemed to accept his