In the _Railway Traveller’s Handy Book_, there is an account of an
occurrence which took place on the Eastern Counties line:—“A big hulking
fellow, with bully written on his face, took his seat in a second-class
carriage, and forthwith commenced insulting everybody by his words and
gestures. He was asked to desist, but only responded with language more
abusive. The guard was then appealed to, who told him to mind what he
was about, shut the door, and cried ‘all right.’ Thus encouraged the
miscreant continued his disgraceful conduct, and became every moment more
outrageous. In one part of the carriage were four farmers sitting who
all came from the same neighbourhood, and to whom every part along the
line was well known. One of these wrote on a slip of paper these words,
‘Let us souse him in Chuckley Slough.’ This paper was handed from one to
the other, and each nodded assent. Now, Chuckley Slough was a pond near
one of the railway stations, not very deep, but the waters of which were
black, muddy, and somewhat repellent to the olfactory nerves. The
station was neared and arrived at; in the meantime the bully’s conduct
became worse and worse. As they emerged from the station, one of the
farmers, aforesaid, said to the fellow, ‘Now, will you he quiet?’ ‘No, I
won’t,’ was the answer. ‘You won’t, won’t you?’ asked a second farmer.
‘You’re determined you won’t?’ inquired a third. ‘You’re certain you
won’t?’ asked the fourth. To all of which queries the response was in
negatives, with certain inelegant expletives added thereto. ‘Then,’ said
the four farmers speaking as one man, and rising in a body, ‘out you go.’
So saying, they seized the giant form of the wretch, who struggled hard
to escape but to no purpose; they forced him to the window, and while the
train was still travelling at a slow pace, and Chuckley Slough appeared
to view, they without more ado thrust the huge carcass through the
window, and propelling it forward with some force, landed it exactly in
the centre of the black, filthy slough. The mingled cries and oaths of
the man were something fearful to hear; his attempts at extrication and
incessant slipping still deeper in the mire, something ludicrous to
witness; all the passengers watched him with feelings of gratified
revenge, and the last that was seen of him was a huge black mass, having
no traces of humanity about it, crawling up the bank in a state of utter
prostration. In this instance the remedy was rather a violent one; but
less active measures had been found to fail, and there can be little
doubt that this man took care ever afterwards not to run the risk of a
similar punishment by indulging in conduct of a like nature.”