The Gilded Hour

Hawthorn said, “Mr. Belmont, I assure you, we see eye to eye on this matter. Now, Mr. Comstock. Dr. Savard Verhoeven has not been accused of any crime, nor is there any evidence to indicate that such an accusation is forthcoming. Mind your manners, sir.”


“I will mind the word of the Lord my God,” thundered Comstock. “I will mind the laws of this great country. You, sir, are in no way equal to either of those authorities.”

“But I have been appointed coroner and this is my inquest,” said Hawthorn mildly. “If you will not desist, I will remove you from my jury. And that I swear to God.”

Comstock’s whole body was shaking in anger. For a moment Jack wondered if he would lose his infamous temper and be thrown out, but then he took his seat and crossed his arms over his chest.

Sophie said, “I am happy to answer the question. I did not give Mrs. Campbell contraceptives of any kind, nor did I give her information on how to end a pregnancy. I did remind her that the law would not allow it.”

Abraham Jacobi said, “And when she came to your office a month ago?”

“Yes. At that visit she was convinced that she had already fallen pregnant. She may have been right, but it was far too early for any clinical signs.”

The man from Bellevue leaned toward her. “You did a thorough manual examination? What were your findings, exactly?”

“I observed no changes to the cervix or the uterus. Changes to the breasts would be difficult to determine, as she was still nursing. But there was ample evidence of recent sexual activity, in line with the history she gave me.”

Hawthorn wanted clarification, which made all the doctors in the jury shift uneasily. Sophie didn’t seem to notice.

“Mrs. Campbell told me that her husband resumed sexual activity almost immediately after she gave birth. She used the phrase ‘morning and night’ to describe his attentions.”

“Coroner Hawthorn!” A man in the gallery struggled to his feet with the help of a cane.

“There’s a question in the gallery,” said the clerk. “Your name, sir?”

“I am a retired physician. Cameron. James McGrath Cameron, and I do have something to say. I cannot believe that a woman is allowed to speak of such private matters in a public court of law. What a man does with his wife in the privacy of his home is no one else’s concern or business, and certainly not a matter for discussion here, by a—a—woman, no less. Shame on you, sir, for allowing it.” With a triple thump of his cane, he sat down again.

Hawthorn cleared his throat. “Dr. Cameron. The witness is a fully trained and qualified physician, and she was answering a question put to her by another physician. That is why we are here, to look at the evidence—all the evidence. That is why the general public has not been allowed admission. If you find it disturbs your sense of propriety, I suggest you leave this courtroom now.”

Cameron jumped up again and began to make his way up the aisle toward the exit, stabbing down with his cane with each step. “I will do just that,” he said, his voice rising. “But I want it on the record that I protest. Such things are not discussed in public. I am going home to my supper.”

“I wish you a good evening.”

The door closed behind Dr. Cameron before the sentence was out of Hawthorn’s mouth. He let out a deep sigh. “Dr. Savard Verhoeven,” he said. “I assume you are familiar with the concept of puerperal insanity?”

Sophie agreed that she was.

“Have you ever seen a case in your own practice?”

“I have seen women lose touch with themselves and the world after a difficult birth. Sometimes a woman will exhibit behaviors that would generally be regarded as insanity. While in training I observed a patient who was so disoriented after the birth of her third child that she was confined to an asylum, primarily because she imagined that God was speaking to her so loudly and insistently that she couldn’t sleep.”

“And what became of that patient?” asked Hawthorn.

“She is still in the private asylum, to the best of my knowledge.”

“And tell us now, did you see any such symptoms in Mrs. Campbell? Please take your time in answering if necessary.”

“I don’t need time to consider,” Sophie said. “I can tell you that Mrs. Campbell was greatly distressed, desperately unhappy, and that she was consumed with anger. But she was in her right mind.”

“Consumed with anger?” asked Stanton, a queer half smile on his face. “Consumed with anger at whom? Her husband? The father of her children?”

“Yes,” Sophie said simply. “Mrs. Campbell was very angry at her husband. I saw no evidence that she was a danger to herself or her sons, but I would not have been surprised to learn that she hurt her husband. In her mind, he was the source of all her troubles. And to be truthful, Dr. Stanton, I see a good deal of logic in her view of things.”

“What a remarkably opinionated young woman you are,” said Stanton. “Truly remarkable, for someone of your sex and station and—origins.”

“I concur,” said Comstock. “You should be glad that this jury does not sit in judgment of you, Mrs. Verhoeven. All right, all right, Hawthorn. Dr. Verhoeven. Now I’ve got one last question.”

Sara Donati's books