October 1857
Tavistock House, London
Mama and Papa came.
‘So, it has finally come to this has it, eh, Dickens? You would return my own daughter to me twenty-one years after I gave her into your hands for safe-keeping?’
‘This is my house, Hogarth, and I would bid you to remember it. I am master here so do not challenge me in my own home.’
‘Do ye hear that, John?’ My mother interjected, sharply. ‘He does no’ want a challenge. Well, I’ll give ye a challenge, laddie. We ken where ye came from and our daughter is too good for ye. We should ha’ never let her go to anyone but a gentleman, and ye are not a gentleman. A blacking-factory boy, that’s all ye are. Dressed up in dandy clothes, I grant ye, but a factory boy none the less.’
‘Get out! Get out both of you! Out of my house!’ Charles bellowed with increasing volume.
‘Are ye coming, Georgie, or are ye staying here with this traitor?’
‘I am staying with the children,’ came Georgia’s diplomatic return.
‘Then ye are no longer a daughter of mine and I bid ye goodbye.’
Any hope of an amicable separation had from that moment been destroyed. I think perhaps that Charles would have made it all as comfortable as any separation could hope to be, but my mother’s words had altered his intentions completely; no one was going to label him the guilty party. My despatch from Tavistock House was carried out entirely by the servants, my bedroom furniture being unceremoniously loaded onto the back of a cart and driven off for storage at York Place. Alice and Emily helped me to pack up my personal belongings, and whilst Alice carried out her duties without emotion, Emily could not help but give way.
‘Oh madam, to think that it should come to this. Who would have ever thought—?’
Alice looked at her sharply, ‘Now, lassie, the mistress has no need of your tears, hurry y’self up with the packing!’
Charles stayed away at Gad’s Hill, and arranged for Georgie to remove herself and the children to Broadstairs so that they should not see me go. I wandered through the rooms of the empty house, wondering what a woman could take with her that holds any meaning if she is to leave her children behind. In the weeks that followed the separation, the words that Charles had comforted me with – ‘that you have been a loyal wife and devoted mother is not called into question’ – he himself now publicly called into question. He wrote to The Times and accused me of being a neglectful and uninterested mother, an incompetent wife, and that his separation from me was therefore entirely justified. That he was in fact praiseworthy in not doing it before now! Can you imagine how if felt to have that which had always been my reason for being, doubted, discredited and published before my friends, family and society?
Papa slapped shut the pages of his newspaper, folded it decisively and threw it onto the breakfast table.
‘So the man has friends at The Times, does he? Well, I have friends too, friends who can publish facts that will make it clear to the whole world just what kind of a man Charles Dickens is!’
‘Papa, please, I can’t take any more animosity or ill-feeling. You will never win against him, Papa, never. As long as anyone dares to question his integrity, he will have the last word. Let it go now for all of our sakes, and let me try to build a life without him. He is much more likely to allow me to see the children if we don’t antagonize him.’
Mama sniffed into her handkerchief, ‘Oh, my poor girl….’
Papa paced the morning room, ‘It’s not right, Catherine. I am your father, and I cannot allow anyone to treat you this way; and your sister, she has not acted with propriety or loyalty at all in staying on with the man.’
‘Papa, I beg you, please do not meddle with him. For my sake?’
My father returned to the breakfast table and prodded the newspaper with his forefinger, ‘For your sake, I will leave well alone, but if he and I should ever cross paths again….’
Our friends could not help but be divided in their loyalties, for Charles had made it quite plain, you were either for him or against him. William was outraged at the news and was the first to visit me at York Place. He held out his hands in a warm greeting of support.
‘Kate, my dear lady, I came as soon as I heard. I cannot imagine how he dares to treat you so treacherously. When I think of my poor Isabella and how I would give anything to be reunited with her; yet a man who could not wish for a more devoted wife chooses to turn his back on her in favour of some young actress. It is monstrous!’
‘Dear William, please don’t make an enemy of your old friend on my account.’
‘No, no, Kate, I am your obedient servant from this day forth, and I shall have no further dealings with anyone who takes his side against you.’
‘Then if you have any feeling for me, use your friendship with my husband to gain me access to the children. I do not ask for your loyalty or the loyalty of my friends, I only long to be reunited with my family.’
‘I am afraid, Kate, that I am the wrong man to ask. I have already severed all ties with him. Word of my personal opinion on your domestic circumstances has reached the newspaper; my disapproval of his actions is in the public domain. He will never receive me again, and other than not being able to assist you, I care not one damn!’
When I found a permanent place of residence in Gloucester Crescent – I could not complain of its location, so near to The Regent’s Park – my eldest son, Charley, came to live with me. He had pleaded with his father to allow it, and with great perception convinced his papa that others would think well of him if he sanctioned it. The rest of the children were not permitted to visit, though, and I had been given no explanation for it.
‘Why don’t they come?’ I asked Charley sadly, looking out of the window and seeming to see children wherever I looked, walking to the park with their mothers or nannies.
‘They are confused, Mama, Aunt Georgie tells them that you are not well and that it would not be good for your health if they visited. Papa has told us all that his name is our passport to the future and that we would be foolish to separate ourselves from that.’
I squeezed his hand and reassured him that I understood.
‘How is your father?’
Charley sighed. ‘He works harder than ever, Mama. I fear that he will do himself great harm. He travels the length and breadth of the country performing his readings, he is at war with his publishers again – which has worn him down greatly – and now he is working on ideas for a weekly journal that he plans to edit. There are times when I speak to him and he looks right through me as though I am not even there.’
I could not help but ask then, ‘Do you see her often when you visit him?’
Charley looked down at the floor in discomfort. ‘Mama, it won’t do you any good to ask about such things.’
‘Sometimes, my love, I think imagining it all is far worse. Do you know that when your father made her existence known to me, he wanted me to meet her just to prove to the newspapers that there was nothing more than friendship between them! I have done many things in my life to salve his conscience, but what he asked of me then was too unbearable to contemplate. Yet, I wonder about her all the same. Please tell me what you know.’
‘She is very young, Mama. It is quite embarrassing, but she is polite to us all and is always accompanied by her mother when she visits. But I do not believe that Father is truly happy. I think he carries a great sense of guilt, a feeling that his own happiness has come at the expense of others.’
‘I am not bitter, my love, I had twenty-one wonderful years with your papa and even if I had known what the outcome was going to be, I do not think that I would have done anything any differently. My only wish is to be reunited with your brothers and sisters – if only there was a way.’
Some days later I received an unexpected visit from Miss Burdett-Coutts and it seemed that she had news of a solution to my difficulties.
She took of her gloves and kissed me on either cheek. ‘I’m so sorry, my dear, that I have not come before but I trust that you received my letters of support? Charles is still so sensitive about the issue between the two of you and I dare not risk any harm to our charity work together by upsetting him. It’s the girls I’m thinking of, you understand?’
‘Of course, Angela, I know that your work at the home is very important to you.’
Emily brought a tray into the sitting room, placed it on the small table at the side of my chair and, while I poured out the tea, Miss Burdett-Coutts made the reason for her visit plain. ‘Now you must not let Charles know that you heard mention of this from me, but I have some news for you. While visiting Gad’s Hill last Sunday, I overheard Charles saying to your sister that if he could be sure that the children would have no contact with their grandparents, then he would consider allowing you to see them. My dear, if you were to write him and suggest this as your own idea, it may go in your favour.’
I absorbed the meaning of her words: could it be that there was hope? And for the first time in many months I took on a sense of lightness, a feeling that happiness was not entirely out of my reach. William had written to me and made reference to the recent Matrimonial Causes Act, which he felt might give me a way to see the children, but I knew that if I faced Charles in court and tried to prove his guilt, he would use every means in his power against me. He would stamp on whatever hope I had with absolute vehemence and extinguish it completely. But if I were to try the suggestion being voiced to me now, it might find favour with him, and cause him to relent. I looked at the clock on the mantelpiece, its pendulum swinging back and forth, and got to my feet.
‘There is not a moment to lose, madam, I will put pen to paper with all haste.’
‘Then, my dear, I pray God bless you in doing so.’ Witnessing my great urgency in searching the bureau for my writing implements, she left her tea and rose to leave.
There was no formal reply from Charles to my appeal, no humble acknowledgement that perhaps he had been too severe with me in former times, or that he appreciated the sacrifice that my own parents would be making in this matter. But when I received word from Katie that she and her sister were to visit, never mind! My dear girls were coming to see me and every moment that passed until they stepped over my threshold was a moment too long.