Thrice Accursed Law - The Law of Divorce (1861) by a 'Graduate of Oxford'

The real name of the ‘Graduate of Oxford’ is not known. Perhaps the author wishes to present himself as an educated member of the establishment. John Ruskin (1819-1900) published his first major work Modern Painters (1843) under the same pseudonym. Ruskin’s unhappy marriage was annulled in July 1854, but it is hardly plausible to suggest that this event would have encouraged our ‘Graduate’ to choose his pseudonym for his tale of divorce. There are a number of works by a ‘Graduate of Oxford’ in the catalogue of the National Library of Scotland, including one from 1851 entitled Caution against Convents, of Vital Importance to Ladies Who Dread a Gloomy and Miserable Life. It is impossible to say whether our ‘Graduate’ was the author of any of the other works published under the same pseudonym. The Law of Divorce: a Tale seems to be the only novel among them.

Roland Elsmere is “a man of good fortune and family who, at an early age had married a very young and beautiful and fascinating girl. With naturally good dispositions, she united the misfortune of a neglected moral education.” (The Law of Divorce, Chapter 1) The young couple, Roland and Harriet were happy; “They were like children – adult children – together.” (Ibid.) They lived in the country and had two children of their own. But as the “neglected moral education” of Harriet warns us, the happiness was not to last. While Roland is in Vienna on business, he receives a letter informing him that Harriett has eloped with one of his best friends – a Cambridge chum with whom Roland had travelled “a pedestrian tour through Sweden.” (Ibid.) Roland feels vindictive, he decides “to sue for a divorce, get his marriage with his false Harriet annulled, and them marry anew.” (Ibid.) The divorce is easily obtained (“the infidelity of Mrs Elsmere was easily proved.” [Ibid.]), and within two, still with a sense of revenge, Roland marries Catherine Dashton in Paris. “She was rich, handsome, and cold-hearted, and brought him nothing but increase of sorrow.” (Ibid.) A fortnight later, while they are still on their honeymoon a letter arrives from Harriet:

Divorce proceedings, The Graphic, Jan 8, 1870

“I am emaciated with grief. My head throbs, my appetite fails, my knees sink; … I shall die of a broken heart. … I have tarnished your name and dishonoured your home; but, oh! My well beloved, the world is wide; let us sail to some far-off land, to some sunny climate such as you love, and there begin our married life anew. … Revive me with one ray of hope. Life and death hang on your words.” (Ibid.)

Roland “stood aghast at the fatal mistake he had committed.” (Ibid.) At this point Catherine enters the room, she is magnificent, “her form was dignified as that of a Grecian statue.” (Ibid.)

All this takes place swiftly in chapter 1 of the novel. ‘Graduate’ loses no time in setting up, in wonderfully melodramatic terms, the central problem of the story: how will Roland be reunited with his beloved Harriet?  How will he rid himself of Catherine?

The Law if Divorce, published in 1861, belongs to the fringes of a clutch of bigamy novels published around this time. The most famous ones of these are, of course, Mary Elizabeth Braddon’s Lady Audley’s Secret (1862) and Mrs Henry Wood’s East Lynne (1861).  The Law of Divorce also has a chip on its shoulder in the shape of the Matrimonial Causes (of Divorce) Act of 1857, which led to the establishment of the Court of Divorce and Matrimonial Causes in 1858. I have already written about the history of divorce in this blog in connection with Lady Audley’s Secret (1862) (Post called “The Inconvenient Necessity of Bigamy”), I will not repeat myself here.

While Roland could divorce Harriet, her infidelity being undeniable, no such stain attaches to Catherine. He has no grounds to divorce her. To make the matter even more difficult for Roland, and to make him a more worthy hero, “His sense of honour was extreme even to weakness.” (The Law of Divorce, Chapter 2) Roland shows Harriet’s letter to Catherine, who “unhappily far surpassed him in strength of character and subtlety of design.” (Ibid.) Catherine is quick to form hero own opinion of the situation: “Is it possible that he can be thinking of deserting me? Perfidious simpleton! But I will be a match for them both!” (Ibid.)

The narrative sets up Harriet with “good dispositions” and “neglected moral education” against Catherine whose “mind was singularly fitted for counter-plot, since with acute perception and tenacity of purpose, she united the faculty devising and managing the minutest details conclusive to a desired end.” (Ibid.)

We are still only in chapter two and despite the brisk pace of the plot, the narrative finds time to insult the French – Roland is on honeymoon in Paris and writes about the French character to a friend, Sir William Wybrandt: 

“It is vapid, frivolous, selfish, and hollow hearted, full of false professions, petty mysteries, and objectless lies. … There is a national repugnance between the two characters [French and English], which intimacy can rarely obliterate.” (The Law of Divorce, Chapter 2)

The Fine Arts Exhibition at The Palace of Industry in Paris, a picture from the Illustrated London News, 9 July 1859 – Perhaps Roland and Catherine visited on their honeymoon.

There is no event in the narrative to explain Roland’s outburst, no Frenchman has offended him. Roland also writes to Harriet, this letter dates the events to 1859. Roland must have been one of the first customers to the divorce court when it opened in 1858, since he married Catherine “within two years” (The Law of Divorce, Chapter 1) of his divorce. Roland’s letter spells out his predicament:

“Fully and freely do I forgive you; but never shall I forgive myself. … I am the miserable husband of another wife. … I love her not. I loathe her. I loathe myself; … Oh; that accursed, thrice accursed law! Would to God that I had never availed myself of it! It binds me with a cruel and hateful chain;” (The Law of Divorce,  Chapter 4)

The intelligent and magnificently statuesque Catherine, who is feared (“My wife … watches me in reality with the eyes of a lynx.”[The Law of Divorce, Chapter 4]) and loathed in equal measure, stands in the way of the “child adult” lovers. Roland, the narrative tells us, is somewhat unmanned by his situation: “He had, in fact, lost that self-reliance without which a character is feeble, becomes an easy prey to adverse circumstances, and, not unfrequently [sic.], its own victim.” (The Law of Divorce, Chapter 4)

Roland’s depiction as a weakened man has several effects in the narrative. It makes Catherine appear even more powerful: her superiority strips Roland of his manly qualities. It also highlights Roland’s perilous state: he may fall victim to his own character, which we know is painfully honourable, but also vindictive and dangerously impulsive. Every hero needs a character flaw. Or perhaps, Roland’s manliness has to be reduced to even out the odds between husband and wife for the anticipated war of cunning intellects. Most significantly, however, Roland’s lack of “self-reliance” allows the narrative to portray him as a victim of circumstances.

Roland blames the “accursed” divorce law for his miserable situation. In a fit of vengeful anger Roland rushed to the newly-opened divorce court to rid himself of Harriet. But now our romantic hero sees himself as a victim of the “thrice accursed law.” The new Divorce Law seduced him and led him to his terrible misfortune. The Law of Divorce is  a sensation novel with a message, but it still sets up a satisfyingly difficult and entertaining dilemma for the hero, and introduces interesting female characters. I look forward to watching the ladies battle it out over Roland’s hand in marriage.