I HAVE NO reason to doubt most of what my stepfather told me that night in 1881, for a large part of what he recounted can be confirmed from other, published sources. His account certainly clears up a number of mysteries that surrounded the running of the Derby in 1844.
I consider it well to point out however that his story would not have been completely accurate in all its details: many who were his confidantes over the years considered him to be a good companion, but one somewhat inclined to boast and exaggerate his exploits. Indeed, I have been informed often enough (even by my mother) that Mr James was above all an amoral rogue, but no more of that.
The events he described to me that evening over several pints of porter had occurred some forty years earlier and no doubt some of his comments were affected by the hazy memory of an elderly man. For instance, the discovery of Harriet’s body could not have taken place on the day the Lord Mayor’s barge collided with Westminster Bridge since that event occurred in September 1844, not July. As for Mr James seeing ‘Tony’ Trollope in the Cider Cellars it is worth noting that Mr Trollope was never known as ‘Tony’. However, his account of the Running Rein trial may be confirmed by newspaper reports, although oddly enough he is mistaken in stating Sir Fitzroy Kelly was Solicitor General at that time. The post was actually held by Sir Frederick Thesiger, who was later elevated to the position of Lord Chancellor.
He was not inaccurate in stating that while a Member of Parliament he was with Guiseppe Garibaldi on the march to Rome, indeed an engraving of him in Garibaldi’s camp appeared in the Illustrated London News. Charles Dickens certainly lampooned Mr James in A Tale of Two Cities; Lewis Goodman was a well-known villain with important underworld connections, and Mr James assuredly reached later career heights as a Queen’s Counsel in his Old Bailey practice. There was also considerable newspaper rumour to the effect that when my stepfather was MP in the Liberal cause for the important seat of Marylebone, his name was known to have been put forward in 1860 to become Solicitor General, only for the appointment to be blocked on the advice of Prince Albert.
And perhaps, in view of his aversion to reading, he can be excused for referring to Mr Wilkie Collins’s sensation novel as The Moonshine. A mere slip of the tongue. It was entitled, of course, The Moonstone.
But I need to stress that in 1881 Mr James was, after all, an old, forgetful and boastful man looking back over a successful though ultimately scandalous career that many have suggested had been a waste of considerable talent. On the other hand, throughout my long conversations with him I was left with the impression that, wasteful or not, Mr James had really rather enjoyed his life.
Joachim Stocqueler
Master mariner
1881