Our readers are now becoming pretty familiar with our principal hero,
Mr. Jorrocks, and we hope he improves on acquaintance. Our fox-hunting
friends, we are sure, will allow him to be an enthusiastic member of the
brotherhood, and though we do not profess to put him in competition with
Musters, Osbaldeston, or any of those sort of men, we yet mean to say
that had his lot been cast in the country instead of behind a counter,
his keenness would have rendered him as conspicuous--if not as
scientific--as the best of them.
For a cockney sportsman, however, he is a very excellent fellow--frank,
hearty, open, generous, and hospitable, and with the exception of riding
up Fleet Street one Saturday afternoon, with a cock-pheasant's tail
sticking out of his red coat pocket, no one ever saw him do a cock tail
action in his life.
The circumstances attending that exhibition are rather curious.--He had
gone out as usual on a Saturday to have a day with the Surrey, but on
mounting his hunter at Croydon, he felt the nag rather queer under him,
and thinking he might have been pricked in the shoeing, he pulled up at
the smith's at Addington to have his feet examined. This lost him five
minutes, and unfortunately when he got to the meet, he found that a
"travelling[13] fox" had been tallied at the precise moment of throwing
off, with which the hounds had gone away in their usual brilliant style,
to the tune of "Blue bonnets are over the border." As may be supposed,
he was in a deuce of a rage; and his first impulse prompted him to
withdraw his subscription and be done with the hunt altogether, and he
trotted forward "on the line," in the hopes of catching them up to tell
them so. In this he was foiled, for after riding some distance, he
overtook a string of Smithfield horses journeying "foreign for Evans,"
whose imprints he had been taking for the hoof-marks of the hunters.
About noon he found himself dull, melancholy, and disconsolate, before
the sign of the "Pig and Whistle," on the Westerham road, where, after
wetting his own whistle with a pint of half-and-half, he again journeyed
onward, ruminating on the uncertainty and mutability of all earthly
affairs, the comparative merits of stag-, fox-, and hare-hunting, and
the necessity of getting rid of the day somehow or other in the country.
[Footnote 13: He might well be called a "travelling fox," for it was
said he had just travelled down from Herring's, in the New Road, by the
Bromley stage.]
Suddenly his reverie was interrupted by the discharge of a gun in the
field adjoining the hedge along which he was passing, and the boisterous
whirring of a great cock-pheasant over his head, which caused his horse
to start and stop short, and to nearly pitch Jorrocks over his head. The
bird was missed, but the sportsman's dog dashed after it, with all the
eagerness of expectation, regardless of the cracks of the whip--the
"comes to heel," and "downs to charge" of the master. Jorrocks pulled
out his hunting telescope, and having marked the bird down with the
precision of a billiard-table keeper, rode to the gate to acquaint the
shooter with the fact, when to his infinite amazement he discovered his
friend, Nosey Browne (late of "The Surrey"), who, since his affairs had
taken the unfortunate turn mentioned in the last paper, had given up
hunting and determined to confine himself to shooting only. Nosey,
however, was no great performer, as may be inferred, when we state that
he had been in pursuit of the above-mentioned cock-pheasant ever since
daybreak, and after firing thirteen shots at him had not yet touched a
feather.
His dog was of the right sort--for Nosey at least--and hope deferred had
not made his heart sick; on the contrary, he dashed after his bird for
the thirteenth time with all the eagerness he displayed on the first.
"Let me have a crack at him," said Jorrocks to Nosey, after their mutual
salutations were over. "I know where he is, and I think I can floor
him." Browne handed the gun to Jorrocks, who, giving up his hunter in
exchange, strode off, and having marked his bird accurately, he kicked
him up out of a bit of furze, and knocked him down as "dead as a
door-nail." By that pheasant's tail hangs the present one.
Now Nosey Browne and Jorrocks were old friends, and Nosey's affairs
having gone crooked, why of course, like most men in a similar
situation, he was all the better for it; and while his creditors were
taking twopence-halfpenny in the pound, he was taking his diversion on
his wife's property, which a sagacious old father-in-law had secured to
the family in the event of such a contingency as a failure happening; so
knowing Jorrock's propensity for sports, and being desirous of chatting
over all his gallant doings with "The Surrey," shortly after the
above-mentioned day he dispatched a "twopenny," offering him a day's
shooting on his property in Surrey, adding, that he hoped he would dine
with him after. Jorrocks being invited himself, with a freedom peculiar
to fox-hunters, invited his friend the Yorkshireman, and visiting his
armoury, selected him a regular shot-scatterer of a gun, capable of
carrying ten yards on every side.
At the appointed hour on the appointed morning, the Yorkshireman
appeared in Great Coram Street, where he found Mr. Jorrocks in the
parlour in the act of settling himself into a new spruce green cut-away
gambroon butler's pantry-jacket, with pockets equal to holding
a powder-flask each, his lower man being attired in tight drab
stocking-net pantaloons, and Hessian boots with large tassels--a
striking contrast to the fustian pocket-and-all-pocket jackets marked
with game-bag strap, and shot-belt, and the weather-beaten many-coloured
breeches and gaiters, and hob-nail shoes, that compose the equipment of
a shooter in Yorkshire. Mr. Jorrocks not keeping any "sporting dogs," as
the tax-papers call them, had borrowed a fat house-dog--a cross between
a setter and a Dalmatian--of his friend Mr. Evergreen the greengrocer,
which he had seen make a most undeniable point one morning in the
Copenhagen Fields at a flock of pigeons in a beetroot garden. This
valuable animal was now attached by a trash-cord through a ring in his
brass collar to a leg of the sideboard, while a clean licked dish at his
side, showed that Jorrocks had been trying to attach him to himself, by
feeding him before starting.
"We'll take a coach to the Castle", said Jorrocks, "and then get a
go-cart or a cast somehow or other to Streatham, for we shall have
walking enough when we get there. Browne is an excellent fellow, and
will make us range every acre of his estate over half a dozen times
before we give in". A coach was speedily summoned, into which Jorrocks,
the dog Pompey, the Yorkshireman, and the guns were speedily placed, and
away they drove to the "Elephant and Castle."
There were short stages about for every possible place except Streatham.
Greenwich, Deptford, Blackheath, Eltham, Bromley, Footscray, Beckenham,
Lewisham--all places but the right. However, there were abundance of
"go-carts," a species of vehicle that ply in the outskirts of the
metropolis, and which, like the watering-place "fly," take their name
from the contrary--in fact, a sort of _lucus a non lucendo_. They are
carts on springs, drawn by one horse (with curtains to protect the
company from the weather), the drivers of which, partly by cheating, and
partly by picking pockets, eke out a comfortable existence, and are
the most lawless set of rascals under the sun. Their arrival at
the "Elephant and Castle" was a signal for a general muster of the
fraternity, who, seeing the guns, were convinced that their journey was
only what they call "a few miles down the road," and they were speedily
surrounded by twenty or thirty of them, all with "excellent 'osses, vot
vould take their honours fourteen miles an hour." All men of business
are aware of the advantages of competition, and no one more so
than Jorrocks, who stood listening to their offers with the utmost
sang-froid, until he closed with one to take them to Streatham Church
for two shillings, and deliver them within the half-hour, which was a
signal for all the rest to set-to and abuse them, their coachman, and
his horse, which they swore had been carrying "stiff-uns" [14] all night,
and "could not go not none at all". Nor were they far wrong; for the
horse, after scrambling a hundred yards or two, gradually relaxed into
something between a walk and a trot, while the driver kept soliciting
every passer-by to "ride," much to our sportsmen's chagrin, who
conceived they were to have the "go" all to themselves. Remonstrance
was vain, and he crammed in a master chimney-sweep, Major Ballenger the
licensed dealer in tea, coffee, tobacco, and snuff, of Streatham
(a customer of Jorrocks), and a wet-nurse; and took up an Italian
organ-grinder to ride beside himself on the front, before they had
accomplished Brixton Hill. Jorrocks swore most lustily that he would
fine him, and at every fresh assurance, the driver offered a passer-by
a seat; but having enlisted Major Ballenger into their cause, they at
length made a stand, which, unfortunately for them, was more than the
horse could do, for just as he was showing off, as he thought, with a
bit of a trot, down they all soused in the mud. Great was the scramble;
guns, barrel-organ, Pompey, Jorrocks, driver, master chimney-sweep,
Major Ballenger, were all down together, while the wet-nurse, who sat at
the end nearest the door, was chucked clean over the hedge into a dry
ditch. This was a signal to quit the vessel, and having extricated
themselves the best way they could, they all set off on foot, and left
the driver to right himself at his leisure.
[Footnote 14: Doing a bit of resurrection work.]
Ballenger looked rather queer when he heard they were going to Nosey
Browne's, for it so happened that Nosey had managed to walk into his
books for groceries and kitchen-stuff to the tune of fourteen pounds, a
large sum to a man in a small way of business; and to be entertaining
friends so soon after his composition, seemed curious to Ballenger's
uninitiated suburban mind.
Crossing Streatham Common, a short turn to the left by some yew-trees
leads, by a near cut across the fields, to Browne's house; a fiery-red
brick castellated cottage, standing on the slope of a gentle eminence,
and combining almost every absurdity a cockney imagination can be
capable of. Nosey, who was his own "Nash," set out with the intention of
making it a castle and nothing but a castle, and accordingly the windows
were made in the loophole fashion, and the door occupied a third of the
whole frontage. The inconveniences of the arrangements were soon felt,
for while the light was almost excluded from the rooms, "rude Boreas"
had the complete run of the castle whenever the door was opened. To
remedy this, Nosey increased the one and curtailed the other, and the
Gothic oak-painted windows and door flew from their positions to make
way for modern plate-glass in rich pea-green casements, and a door of
similar hue. The battlements, however, remained, and two wooden guns
guarded a brace of chimney-pots and commanded the wings of the castle,
one whereof was formed into a green-, the other into a gig-house.
The peals of a bright brass-handled bell at a garden-gate, surmounted by
a holly-bush with the top cut into the shape of a fox, announced their
arrival to the inhabitants of "Rosalinda Castle," and on entering they
discovered young Nosey in the act of bobbing for goldfish, in a
pond about the size of a soup-basin; while Nosey senior, a fat,
stupid-looking fellow, with a large corporation and a bottle nose,
attired in a single-breasted green cloth coat, buff waistcoat, with drab
shorts and continuations, was reposing, _sub tegmine fagi_, in a sort
of tea-garden arbour, overlooking a dung-heap, waiting their arrival to
commence an attack upon the sparrows which were regaling thereon. At
one end of the garden was a sort of temple, composed of oyster-shells,
containing a couple of carrier-pigeons, with which Nosey had intended
making his fortune, by the early information to be acquired by them: but
"there is many a slip," as Jorrocks would say.
Greetings being over, and Jorrocks having paid a visit to the larder,
and made up a stock of provisions equal to a journey through the
Wilderness, they adjourned to the yard to get the other dog, and the
man to carry the game--or rather, the prog, for the former was but
problematical. He was a character, a sort of chap of all work, one, in
short, "who has no objection to make himself generally useful"; but if
his genius had any decided bent, it was, perhaps, an inclination towards
sporting.
Having to act the part of groom and gamekeeper during the morning,
and butler and footman in the afternoon, he was attired in a sort of
composition dress, savouring of the different characters performed. He
had on an old white hat, a groom's fustian stable-coat cut down into a
shooting-jacket, with a whistle at the button-hole, red plush smalls,
and top-boots.
There is nothing a cockney delights in more than aping a country
gentleman, and Browne fancied himself no bad hand at it; indeed, since
his London occupation was gone, he looked upon himself as a country
gentleman in fact. "Vell, Joe," said he, striddling and sticking his
thumbs into the arm-holes of his waistcoat, to this invaluable man of
all work, "we must show the gemmem some sport to-day; vich do you think
the best line to start upon--shall we go to the ten hacre field, or the
plantation, or Thompson's stubble, or Timms's turnips, or my meadow, or
vere?" "Vy, I doesn't know," said Joe; "there's that old hen-pheasant as
we calls Drab Bess, vot has haunted the plantin' these two seasons, and
none of us ever could 'it (hit), and I hears that Jack, and Tom, and
Bob, are still left out of Thompson's covey; but, my eyes! they're
'special vild!" "Vot, only three left? where is old Tom, and the old
ramping hen?" inquired Browne. "Oh, Mr. Smith, and a party of them 'ere
Bankside chaps, com'd down last Saturday's gone a week, and rattled
nine-and-twenty shots at the covey, and got the two old 'uns; at least
it's supposed they were both killed, though the seven on 'em only bagged
one bird; but I heard they got a goose or two as they vent home. They
had a shot at old Tom, the hare, too, but he is still alive; at least
I pricked him yesterday morn across the path into the turnip-field.
Suppose we goes at him first?"
The estate, like the game, was rather deficient in quantity, but Browne
was a wise man and made the most of what he had, and when he used to
talk about his "manor" on 'Change, people thought he had at least a
thousand acres--the extent a cockney generally advertises for, when he
wants to take a shooting-place. The following is a sketch of what he
had: The east, as far as the eye could reach, was bounded by Norwood,
a name dear to cockneys, and the scene of many a furtive kiss; the
hereditaments and premises belonging to Isaac Cheatum, Esq. ran parallel
with it on the west, containing sixty-three acres, "be the same more or
less," separated from which, by a small brook or runner of water, came
the estate of Mr. Timms, consisting of sixty acres, three roods, and
twenty-four perches, commonly called or known by the name of Fordham;
next to it were two allotments in right of common, for all manner of
cattle, except cows, upon Streatham Common, from whence up to Rosalinda
Castle, on the west, lay the estate of Mr. Browne, consisting of fifty
acres and two perches. Now it so happened that Browne had formerly the
permission to sport all the way up to Norwood, a distance of a mile and
a half, and consequently he might have been said to have the right of
shooting in Norwood itself, for the keepers only direct their attention
to the preservation of the timber and the morals of the visitors; but
since his composition with his creditors, Mr. Cheatum, who had "gone to
the wall" himself in former years, was so scandalised at Browne doing
the same, that no sooner did his name appear in the _Gazette_, than
Cheatum withdrew his permission, thereby cutting him off from Norwood
and stopping him in pursuit of his game.
Joe's proposition being duly seconded, Mr. Jorrocks, in the most
orthodox manner, flushed off his old flint and steel fire-engine, and
proceeded to give it an uncommon good loading. The Yorkshireman, with
a look of disgust, mingled with despair, and a glance at Joe's plush
breeches and top-boots, did the same, while Nosey, in the most
considerate sportsmanlike manner, merely shouldered a stick, in order
that there might be no delicacy with his visitors, as to who should
shoot first--a piece of etiquette that aids the escape of many a bird in
the neighbourhood of London.
Old Tom--a most unfortunate old hare, that what with the harriers, the
shooters, the snarers, and one thing and another, never knew a moment's
peace, and who must have started in the world with as many lives as
a cat--being doomed to receive the first crack on this occasion, our
sportsmen stole gently down the fallow, at the bottom of which were the
turnips, wherein he was said to repose; but scarcely had they reached
the hurdles which divided the field, before he was seen legging it away
clean out of shot. Jorrocks, who had brought his gun to bear upon him,
could scarcely refrain from letting drive, but thinking to come upon him
again by stealth, as he made his circuit for Norwood, he strode away
across the allotments and Fordham estate, and took up a position behind
a shed which stood on the confines of Mr. Timms's and Mr. Cheatum's
properties. Here, having procured a rest for his gun, he waited until
old Tom, who had tarried to nip a few blades of green grass that came
in his way, made his appearance. Presently he came cantering along the
outside of the wood, at a careless, easy sort of pace, betokening either
perfect indifference for the world's mischief, or utter contempt of
cockney sportsmen altogether.
He was a melancholy, woe-begone-looking animal, long and lean, with a
slight inclination to grey on his dingy old coat, one that looked as
though he had survived his kindred and had already lived beyond his day.
Jorrocks, however, saw him differently, and his eyes glistened as
he came within range of his gun. A well-timed shot ends poor Tom's
miseries! He springs into the air, and with a melancholy scream rolls
neck over heels. Knowing that Pompey would infallibly spoil him if he
got up first, Jorrocks, without waiting to load, was in the act of
starting off to pick him up, when, at the first step, he found himself
in the grasp of a Herculean monster, something between a coal-heaver and
a gamekeeper, who had been secreted behind the shed. Nosey Browne, who
had been watching his movements, holloaed out to Jorrocks to "hold
hard," who stood motionless, on the spot from whence he fired, and
Browne was speedily alongside of him. "You are on Squire Cheatum's
estate," said the man; "and I have authority to take up all poachers and
persons found unlawfully trespassing; what's your name?" "He's not on
Cheatum's estate," said Browne. "He is," said the man. "You're a liar,"
said Browne. "You're another," said the man. And so they went on; for
when such gentlemen meet, compliments pass current. At length the keeper
pulled out a foot-rule, and keeping Jorrocks in the same position he
caught him, he set-to to measure the distance of his foot from the
boundary, taking off in a line from the shed; when it certainly did
appear that the length of a big toe was across the mark, and putting up
his measure again, he insisted upon taking Jorrocks before a magistrate
for the trespass. Of course, no objection could be made, and they all
adjourned to Mr. Boreem's, when the whole case was laid before him. To
cut a long matter short--after hearing the pros and cons, and referring
to the Act of Parliament, his worship decided that a trespass had been
committed; and though, he said, it went against the grain to do so, he
fined Jorrocks in the mitigated penalty of one pound one.
This was a sad damper to our heroes, who returned to the castle with
their prog untouched and no great appetite for dinner. Being only a
family party, when Mrs. B---- retired, the subject naturally turned upon
the morning's mishap, and at every glass of port Jorrocks waxed more
valiant, until he swore he would appeal against the "conwiction"; and
remaining in the same mind when he awoke the next morning, he took the
Temple in his way to St. Botolph Lane and had six-and-eightpence worth
with Mr. Capias the attorney, who very judiciously argued each side of
the question without venturing an opinion, and proposed stating a case
for counsel to advise upon.
As usual, he gave one that would cut either way, though if it had any
tendency whatever it was to induce Jorrocks to go on; and he not wanting
much persuasion, it will not surprise our readers to hear that Jorrocks,
Capias, and the Yorkshireman were seen a few days after crossing
Waterloo Bridge in a yellow post-chaise, on their way to Croydon
sessions.
After a "guinea" consultation at the "Greyhound," they adjourned to the
court, which was excessively crowded, Jorrocks being as popular with
the farmers and people as Cheatum was the reverse. Party feeling, too,
running rather high at the time, there had been a strong "whip" among
the magistrates to get a full attendance to reverse Boreem's conviction,
who had made himself rather obnoxious on the blue interest at the
election. Of course they all came in new hats,[15] and sat on the bench
looking as wise as gentlemen judges generally do.
[Footnote 15: Magistrates always buy their hats about session times, as
they have the privilege of keeping their hats on their blocks in court.]
One hundred and twenty-two affiliation cases (for this was in the
old Poor Law time) having been disposed of, about one o'clock in the
afternoon, the chairman, Mr. Tomkins of Tomkins, moved the order of the
day. He was a perfect prototype of a county magistrate--with a bald
powdered head covered by a low-crowned, broad-brimmed hat, hair
terminating behind in a _queue_, resting on the ample collar of a
snuff-brown coat, with a large bay-window of a corporation, with
difficulty retained by the joint efforts of a buff waistcoat, and the
waistband of a pair of yellow leather breeches. His countenance, which
was solemn and grave in the extreme, might either be indicative of sense
or what often serves in the place of wisdom--when parties can only hold
their tongues--great natural stupidity. From the judge's seat, which he
occupied in the centre of the bench, he observed, with immense dignity,
"There is an appeal of Jorrocks against Cheatum, which we, the bench of
magistrates of our lord the king, will take if the parties are ready,"
and immediately the court rang with "Jorrocks and Cheatum! Jorrocks and
Cheatum! Mr. Capias, attorney-at-law! Mr. Capias answer to his name! Mr.
Sharp attorney-at-law! Mr. Sharp's in the jury-room.--Then go fetch him
directly," from the ushers and bailiffs of the court; for though Tomkins
of Tomkins was slow himself, he insisted upon others being quick, and
was a great hand at prating about saving the time of the suitors. At
length the bustle of counsel crossing the table, parties coming in
and others leaving court, bailiffs shouting, and ushers responding,
gradually subsided into a whisper of, "That's Jorrocks! That's Cheatum!"
as the belligerent parties took their places by their respective
counsel. Silence having been called and procured, Mr. Smirk, a
goodish-looking man for a lawyer, having deliberately unfolded his
brief, which his clerk had scored plentifully in the margin, to make the
attorney believe he had read it very attentively, rose to address the
court--a signal for half the magistrates to pull their newspapers out of
their pockets, and the other half to settle themselves down for a nap,
all the sport being considered over when the affiliation cases closed.
"I have the honour to appear on behalf of Mr. Jorrocks," said Mr.
Smirk, "a gentleman of the very highest consideration--a fox-hunter--a
shooter--and a grocer. In ordinary cases it might be necessary to prove
the party's claim to respectability, but, in this instance, I feel
myself relieved from any such obligation, knowing, as I do, that there
is no one in this court, no one in these realms--I might almost add,
no one in this world--to whom the fame of my most respectable, my most
distinguished, and much injured client is unknown. Not to know JORROCKS
is indeed to argue oneself unknown."
"This is a case of no ordinary interest, and I approach it with a deep
sense of its importance, conscious of my inability to do justice to the
subject, and lamenting that it has not been entrusted to abler hands.
It is a case involving the commercial and the sporting character of
a gentleman against whom the breath of calumny has never yet been
drawn--of a gentleman who in all the relations of life, whether as a
husband, a fox-hunter, a shooter, or a grocer, has invariably preserved
that character and reputation, so valuable in commercial life, so
necessary in the sporting world, and so indispensable to a man moving in
general society. Were I to look round London town in search of a bright
specimen of a man combining the upright, sterling integrity of the
honourable British merchant of former days with the ardour of the
English fox-hunter of modern times, I would select my most respectable
client, Mr. Jorrocks. He is a man for youth to imitate and revere!
Conceive, then, the horror of a man of his delicate sensibility--of his
nervous dread of depreciation--being compelled to appear here this
day to vindicate his character, nay more, his honour, from one of the
foulest attempts at conspiracy that was ever directed against any
individual. I say that a grosser attack was never made upon the
character of any grocer, and I look confidently to the reversion of this
unjust, unprecedented conviction, and to the triumphant victory of my
most respectable and public-spirited client. It is not for the sake of
the few paltry shillings that he appeals to this court--it is not for
the sake of calling in question the power of the constituted authorities
of this county--but it is for the vindication and preservation of a
character dear to all men, but doubly dear to a grocer, and which once
lost can never be regained. Look, I say, upon my client as he sits below
the witness-box, and say, if in that countenance there appears any
indication of a lawless or rebellious spirit; look, I say, if the milk
of human kindness is not strikingly portrayed in every feature, and
truly may I exclaim in the words of the poet:"
If to his share some trifling errors fall,
Look in his face, and you'll forget them all.'
"I regret to be compelled to trespass upon the valuable time of the
court; but, sir, this appeal is based on a trespass, and one good
trespass deserves another."
The learned gentleman then proceeded to detail the proceedings of the
day's shooting, and afterwards to analyse the enactments of the new Game
Bill, which he denounced as arbitrary, oppressive, and ridiculous, and
concluded a long and energetic speech, by calling upon the court to
reverse the decision of the magistrate, and not support the preposterous
position of fining a man for a trespass committed by his toe.
After a few minutes had elapsed, Mr. Sergeant Bumptious, a stiff,
bull-headed little man, desperately pitted with the smallpox, rose to
reply, and looking round the court, thus commenced:
"Five-and-thirty years have I passed in courts of justice, but never,
during a long and extensive practice, have I witnessed so gross a
perversion of that sublimest gift, called eloquence, as within the last
hour"--here he banged his brief against the table, and looked at Mr.
Smirk, who smiled.--"I lament, sir, that it has not been employed in a
better cause--(bang again--and another look). My learned friend has,
indeed, laboured to make the worse appear the better cause--to convert
into a trifle one of the most outrageous acts that ever disgraced a
human being or a civilised country. Well did he describe the importance
of this case!--important as regards his client's character--important
as regards this great and populous county--important as regards those
social ties by which society is held together--important as regards
a legislative enactment, and important as regards the well-being and
prosperity of the whole nation--(bang, bang, bang). I admire the
bombastic eloquence with which my learned friend introduced his
most distinguished client--his most delicate minded--sensitive
client!--Truly, to hear him speaking I should have thought he had been
describing a lovely, blushing young lady, but when he comes to exhibit
his paragon of perfection, and points out that great, red-faced, coarse,
vulgar-looking, lubberly lump of humanity--(here Bumptious looked at
Jorrocks as he would eat him)--sitting below the witness-box, and
seeks to enlist the sympathies of your worships on the Bench--of you,
gentlemen, the high-minded, shrewd, penetrating judges of this important
cause--(and Bumptious smiled and bowed along the Bench upon all whose
eyes he could catch)--on behalf of such a monster of iniquity, it
does make one blush for the degradation of the British
Bar--(bang--bang--bang--Jorrocks here looked unutterable things). Does
my learned friend think by displaying his hero as a fox-hunter,
and extolling his prowess in the field, to gain over the sporting
magistrates on the Bench? He knows little of the upright integrity--the
uncompromising honesty--the undeviating, inflexible impartiality that
pervades the breast of every member of this tribunal, if he thinks
for the sake of gain, fear, favour, hope, or reward, to influence
the opinion, much less turn the judgment, of any one of them." (Here
Bumptious bowed very low to them all and laid his hand upon his heart.
Tomkins nodded approbation.) "Far, far be it from me to dwell with
unbecoming asperity on the conduct of anyone--we are all mortals--and
alike liable to err; but when I see a man who has been guilty of an act
which has brought him all but within the verge of the prisoners' dock; I
say, when I see a man who has been guilty of such an outrage on society
as this ruffian Jorrocks, come forward with the daring effrontery
that he has this day done, and claim redress where he himself is the
offender, it does create a feeling in my mind divided between disgust
and amazement"--(bang).
Here Jorrock's cauldron boiled over, and rising from his seat with an
outstretched shoulder-of-mutton fist, he bawled out, "D--n you, sir,
what do you mean?"
The court was thrown into amazement, and even Bumptious quailed before
the fist of the mighty Jorrocks. "I claim the protection of the court,"
he exclaimed. Mr. Tomkins interposed, and said he should certainly order
Mr. Jorrocks into custody if he repeated his conduct, adding that it was
"most disrespectful to the justices of our lord the king."
Bumptious paused a little to gather breath and a fresh volume of venom
wherewith to annihilate Jorrocks, and catching his eye, he transfixed
him like a rattlesnake, and again resumed.
"How stands the case?" said he. "This cockney grocer--for after all
he is nothing else--who I dare say scarcely knows a hawk from a
hand-saw--leaves his figs and raisins, and sets out on a marauding
excursion into the county of Surrey, and regardless of property--of
boundaries--of laws--of liberties--of life itself--strides over every
man's land, letting drive at whatever comes in his way! The hare he shot
on this occasion was a pet hare!--For three successive summers had
Miss Cheatum watched and fed it with all the interest and anxiety of a
parent. I leave it to you, gentlemen, who have daughters of your own,
with pets also, to picture to yourselves the agony of her mind in
finding that her favourite had found its way down the throat of that
great guzzling, gormandising, cockney cormorant; and then, forsooth,
because he is fined for the outrageous trespass, he comes here as the
injured party, and instructs his counsel to indulge in Billingsgate
abuse that would disgrace the mouth of an Old Bailey practitioner! I
regret that instead of the insignificant fine imposed upon him, the law
did not empower the worthy magistrate to send him to the treadmill,
there to recreate himself for six or eight months, as a warning to the
whole fraternity of lawless vagabonds." Here he nodded his head at
Jorrocks as much as to say, "I'll trounce you, my boy!" He then produced
maps and plans of the different estates, and a model of the shed, to
show how it had all happened, and after going through the case in such a
strain as would induce one to believe it was a trial for murder or high
treason, concluded as follows:
"The eyes of England are upon us--reverse this conviction, and you let
loose a rebel band upon the country, ripe for treason, stratagem, or
spoil--you overturn the finest order of society in the world; henceforth
no man's property will be safe, the laws will be disregarded, and even
the upright, talented, and independent magistracy of England brought
into contempt. But I feel convinced that your decision will be
far otherwise--that by it you will teach these
hot-headed--rebellious--radical grocers that they cannot offend with
impunity, and show them that there is a law which reaches even the
lowest and meanest inhabitant of these realms, that amid these days of
anarchy and innovation you will support the laws and aristocracy of this
country, that you will preserve to our children, and our children's
children, those rights and blessings which a great and enlightened
administration have conferred upon ourselves, and raise for Tomkins
of Tomkins and the magistracy of the proud county of Surrey, a name
resplendent in modern times and venerated to all eternity."
Here Bumptious cast a parting frown at Jorrocks, and banging down his
brief, tucked his gown under his arm, turned on his heel and left the
court, to indulge in a glass of pale sherry and a sandwich, regardless
which way the verdict went, so long as he had given him a good quilting.
The silence that followed had the effect of rousing some of the dozing
justices, who nudging those who had fallen asleep, they all began to
stir themselves, and having laid their heads together, during which
time they settled the dinner-hour for that day, and the meets of the
staghounds for the next fortnight, they began to talk of the matter
before the court.
"I vote for reversing," said Squire Jolthead; "Jorrocks is such a
capital fellow." "I must support Boreem," said Squire Hicks: "he gave me
a turn when I made the mistaken commitment of Gipsy Jack." "What do
you say, Mr. Giles?" inquired Mr. Tomkins. "Oh, anything you like, Mr.
Tomkins." "And you, Mr. Hopper?" who had been asleep all the time. "Oh!
guilty, I should say--three months at the treadmill--privately whipped,
if you like," was the reply. Mr. Petty always voted on whichever
side Bumptious was counsel--the learned serjeant having married his
sister--and four others always followed the chair.
Tomkins then turned round, the magistrates resumed their seats along the
bench, and coming forward he stood before the judge's chair, and taking
off his hat with solemn dignity and precision, laid it down exactly in
the centre of the desk, amid cries from the bailiffs and ushers for
"Silence, while the justices of the peace of our sovereign lord the
king, deliver the judgment of the court."
"The appellant in this case," said Mr. Tomkins, very slowly, "seeks to
set aside a conviction for trespass, on the ground, as I understand,
of his not having committed one. The principal points of the case are
admitted, as also the fact of Mr. Jorrocks's toe, or a part of his toe,
having intruded upon the respondent's estate. Now, so far as that point
is concerned, it seems clear to myself and to my brother magistrates,
that it mattereth not how much or how little of the toe was upon the
land, so long as any part thereof was there. 'De minimis non curat
lex'--the English of which is 'the law taketh no cognisance of
fractions'--is a maxim among the salaried judges of the inferior
courts in Westminster Hall, which we the unpaid, the in-cor-rup-ti-ble
magistrates of the proud county of Surrey, have adopted in the very deep
and mature deliberation that preceded the formation of our most solemn
judgment. In the present great and important case, we, the unpaid
magistrates of our sovereign lord the king, do not consider it necessary
that there should be 'a toe, a whole toe, and nothing but a toe,' to
constitute a trespass, any more than it would be necessary in the case
of an assault to prove that the kick was given by the foot, the whole
foot, and nothing but the foot. If any part of the toe was there, the
law considers that it was there _in toto_. Upon this doctrine, it is
clear that Mr. Jorrocks was guilty of a trespass, and the conviction
must be affirmed. Before I dismiss the case I must say a few words on
the statute under which this decision takes place.
"This is the first conviction that has taken place since the passing
of the Act, and will serve as a precedent throughout all England. I
congratulate the country upon the efficacy of the tribunal to which
it has been submitted. The court has listened with great and becoming
attention to the arguments of the counsel on both sides: and though
one gentleman with a flippant ignorance has denounced this new law as
inferior to the pre-existing system, and a curse to the country, we,
the magistrates of the proud county of Surrey, must enter our protest
against such a doctrine being promulgated. Peradventure, you are all
acquainted with my prowess as a shooter; I won two silver tankards at
the Red House, Anno Domini 1815. I mention this to show that I am a
practical sportsman, and as to the theory of the Game Laws, I derive my
information from the same source that you may all derive yours--from the
bright refulgent pages of the _New Sporting Magazine_!"