A GREAT MAN ATTENDS TO BUSINESS
[Illustration: 204.jpg Westminster Hall, 1650]
Having seen Lord Russell murdered in the fields of Lincoln's Inn, or
rather having gone to see it, but turned away with a sickness and a
bitter flood of tears--for a whiter and a nobler neck never fell
before low beast--I strode away towards Westminster, cured of half my
indignation at the death of Charles the First. Many people hurried past
me, chiefly of the more tender sort, revolting at the butchery. In their
ghastly faces, as they turned them back, lest the sight should be coming
after them, great sorrow was to be seen, and horror, and pity, and some
anger.
In Westminster Hall I found nobody; not even the crowd of crawling
varlets, who used to be craving evermore for employment or for payment.
I knocked at three doors, one after other, of lobbies going out of it,
where I had formerly seen some officers and people pressing in and out,
but for my trouble I took nothing, except some thumps from echo. And at
last an old man told me that all the lawyers were gone to see the result
of their own works, in the fields of Lincoln's Inn.
However, in a few days' time, I had better fortune; for the court was
sitting and full of business, to clear off the arrears of work, before
the lawyers' holiday. As I was waiting in the hall for a good occasion,
a man with horsehair on his head, and a long blue bag in his left hand,
touched me gently on the arm, and led me into a quiet place. I followed
him very gladly, being confident that he came to me with a message from
the Justiciaries. But after taking pains to be sure that none could
overhear us, he turned on me suddenly, and asked,--
“Now, John, how is your dear mother?”
“Worshipful sir” I answered him, after recovering from my surprise at
his knowledge of our affairs, and kindly interest in them, “it is two
months now since I have seen her. Would to God that I only knew how she
is faring now, and how the business of the farm goes!”
“Sir, I respect and admire you,” the old gentleman replied, with a
bow very low and genteel; “few young court-gallants of our time are so
reverent and dutiful. Oh, how I did love my mother!” Here he turned up
his eyes to heaven, in a manner that made me feel for him and yet with a
kind of wonder.
“I am very sorry for you, sir,” I answered most respectfully, not
meaning to trespass on his grief, yet wondering at his mother's age; for
he seemed to be at least threescore; “but I am no court-gallant, sir; I
am only a farmer's son, and learning how to farm a little.”
“Enough, John; quite enough,” he cried, “I can read it in thy
countenance. Honesty is written there, and courage and simplicity. But I
fear that, in this town of London, thou art apt to be taken in by people
of no principle. Ah me! Ah me! The world is bad, and I am too old to
improve it.”
Then finding him so good and kind, and anxious to improve the age, I
told him almost everything; how much I paid the fellmonger, and all the
things I had been to see; and how I longed to get away, before the corn
was ripening; yet how (despite of these desires) I felt myself bound to
walk up and down, being under a thing called “recognisance.” In short,
I told him everything; except the nature of my summons (which I had no
right to tell), and that I was out of money.
My tale was told in a little archway, apart from other lawyers; and the
other lawyers seemed to me to shift themselves, and to look askew, like
sheep through a hurdle, when the rest are feeding.
“What! Good God!” my lawyer cried, smiting his breast indignantly with a
roll of something learned; “in what country do we live? Under what
laws are we governed? No case before the court whatever; no primary
deposition, so far as we are furnished; not even a King's writ
issued--and here we have a fine young man dragged from his home and
adoring mother, during the height of agriculture, at his own cost and
charges! I have heard of many grievances; but this the very worst of
all. Nothing short of a Royal Commission could be warranty for it. This
is not only illegal, sir, but most gravely unconstitutional.”
“I had not told you, worthy sir,” I answered him, in a lower tone, “if I
could have thought that your sense of right would be moved so painfully.
But now I must beg to leave you, sir--for I see that the door again is
open. I beg you, worshipful sir, to accept--”
Upon this he put forth his hand and said, “Nay, nay, my son, not two,
not two:” yet looking away, that he might not scare me.
“To accept, kind sir, my very best thanks, and most respectful
remembrances.” And with that, I laid my hand in his. “And if, sir, any
circumstances of business or of pleasure should bring you to our part
of the world, I trust you will not forget that my mother and myself (if
ever I get home again) will do our best to make you comfortable with our
poor hospitality.”
With this I was hasting away from him, but he held my hand and looked
round at me. And he spoke without cordiality.
“Young man, a general invitation is no entry for my fee book. I have
spent a good hour of business-time in mastering thy case, and stating
my opinion of it. And being a member of the bar, called six-and-thirty
years agone by the honourable society of the Inner Temple, my fee is
at my own discretion; albeit an honorarium. For the honour of the
profession, and my position in it, I ought to charge thee at least five
guineas, although I would have accepted one, offered with good will
and delicacy. Now I will enter it two, my son, and half a crown for my
clerk's fee.”
Saying this, he drew forth from his deep, blue bag, a red book having
clasps to it, and endorsed in gold letters “Fee-book”; and before I
could speak (being frightened so) he had entered on a page of it, “To
consideration of case as stated by John Ridd, and advising thereupon,
two guineas.”
“But sir, good sir,” I stammered forth, not having two guineas left in
the world, yet grieving to confess it, “I knew not that I was to pay,
learned sir. I never thought of it in that way.”
“Wounds of God! In what way thought you that a lawyer listened to your
rigmarole?”
“I thought that you listened from kindness, sir, and compassion of my
grievous case, and a sort of liking for me.”
“A lawyer like thee, young curmudgeon! A lawyer afford to feel
compassion gratis! Either thou art a very deep knave, or the greenest of
all greenhorns. Well, I suppose, I must let thee off for one guinea, and
the clerk's fee. A bad business, a shocking business!”
Now, if this man had continued kind and soft, as when he heard my story,
I would have pawned my clothes to pay him, rather than leave a debt
behind, although contracted unwittingly. But when he used harsh language
so, knowing that I did not deserve it, I began to doubt within myself
whether he deserved my money. Therefore I answered him with some
readiness, such as comes sometimes to me, although I am so slow.
“Sir, I am no curmudgeon: if a young man had called me so, it would not
have been well with him. This money shall be paid, if due, albeit I
had no desire to incur the debt. You have advised me that the Court
is liable for my expenses, so far as they be reasonable. If this be
a reasonable expense, come with me now to Lord Justice Jeffreys, and
receive from him the two guineas, or (it may be) five, for the counsel
you have given me to deny his jurisdiction.” With these words, I took
his arm to lead him, for the door was open still.
“In the name of God, boy, let me go. Worthy sir, pray let me go. My wife
is sick, and my daughter dying--in the name of God, sir, let me go.”
“Nay, nay,” I said, having fast hold of him, “I cannot let thee go
unpaid, sir. Right is right; and thou shalt have it.”
“Ruin is what I shall have, boy, if you drag me before that devil. He
will strike me from the bar at once, and starve me, and all my family.
Here, lad, good lad, take these two guineas. Thou hast despoiled
the spoiler. Never again will I trust mine eyes for knowledge of a
greenhorn.”
He slipped two guineas into the hand which I had hooked through his
elbow, and spoke in an urgent whisper again, for the people came
crowding around us--“For God's sake let me go, boy; another moment will
be too late.”
“Learned sir,” I answered him, “twice you spoke, unless I err, of the
necessity of a clerk's fee, as a thing to be lamented.”
“To be sure, to be sure, my son. You have a clerk as much as I have.
There it is. Now I pray thee, take to the study of the law. Possession
is nine points of it, which thou hast of me. Self-possession is the
tenth, and that thou hast more than the other nine.”
Being flattered by this, and by the feeling of the two guineas and
half-crown, I dropped my hold upon Counsellor Kitch (for he was no less
a man than that), and he was out of sight in a second of time, wig, blue
bag, and family. And before I had time to make up my mind what I should
do with his money (for of course I meant not to keep it) the crier of
the Court (as they told me) came out, and wanted to know who I was. I
told him, as shortly as I could, that my business lay with His Majesty's
bench, and was very confidential; upon which he took me inside with
warning, and showed me to an under-clerk, who showed me to a higher one,
and the higher clerk to the head one.
When this gentleman understood all about my business (which I told him
without complaint) he frowned at me very heavily, as if I had done him
an injury.
“John Ridd,” he asked me with a stern glance, “is it your deliberate
desire to be brought into the presence of the Lord Chief Justice?”
“Surely, sir, it has been my desire for the last two months and more.”
“Then, John, thou shalt be. But mind one thing, not a word of thy long
detention, or thou mayst get into trouble.”
“How, sir? For being detained against my own wish?” I asked him; but he
turned away, as if that matter were not worth his arguing, as, indeed, I
suppose it was not, and led me through a little passage to a door with a
curtain across it.
“Now, if my Lord cross-question you,” the gentleman whispered to me,
“answer him straight out truth at once, for he will have it out of
thee. And mind, he loves not to be contradicted, neither can he bear a
hang-dog look. Take little heed of the other two; but note every word of
the middle one; and never make him speak twice.”
I thanked him for his good advice, as he moved the curtain and thrust me
in, but instead of entering withdrew, and left me to bear the brunt of
it.
The chamber was not very large, though lofty to my eyes, and dark, with
wooden panels round it. At the further end were some raised seats, such
as I have seen in churches, lined with velvet, and having broad elbows,
and a canopy over the middle seat. There were only three men sitting
here, one in the centre, and one on each side; and all three were done
up wonderfully with fur, and robes of state, and curls of thick gray
horsehair, crimped and gathered, and plaited down to their shoulders.
Each man had an oak desk before him, set at a little distance, and
spread with pens and papers. Instead of writing, however, they seemed
to be laughing and talking, or rather the one in the middle seemed to
be telling some good story, which the others received with approval. By
reason of their great perukes it was hard to tell how old they were; but
the one who was speaking seemed the youngest, although he was the chief
of them. A thick-set, burly, and bulky man, with a blotchy broad face,
and great square jaws, and fierce eyes full of blazes; he was one to be
dreaded by gentle souls, and to be abhorred by the noble.
Between me and the three lord judges, some few lawyers were gathering up
bags and papers and pens and so forth, from a narrow table in the middle
of the room, as if a case had been disposed of, and no other were called
on. But before I had time to look round twice, the stout fierce man
espied me, and shouted out with a flashing stare--
“How now, countryman, who art thou?”
“May it please your worship,” I answered him loudly, “I am John Ridd, of
Oare parish, in the shire of Somerset, brought to this London, some two
months back by a special messenger, whose name is Jeremy Stickles;
and then bound over to be at hand and ready, when called upon to give
evidence, in a matter unknown to me, but touching the peace of our lord
the King, and the well-being of his subjects. Three times I have met our
lord the King, but he hath said nothing about his peace, and only held
it towards me, and every day, save Sunday, I have walked up and down the
great hall of Westminster, all the business part of the day, expecting
to be called upon, yet no one hath called upon me. And now I desire to
ask your worship, whether I may go home again?”
“Well, done, John,” replied his lordship, while I was panting with all
this speech; “I will go bail for thee, John, thou hast never made such
a long speech before; and thou art a spunky Briton, or thou couldst not
have made it now. I remember the matter well, and I myself will attend
to it, although it arose before my time”--he was but newly Chief
Justice--“but I cannot take it now, John. There is no fear of losing
thee, John, any more than the Tower of London. I grieve for His
Majesty's exchequer, after keeping thee two months or more.”
“Nay, my lord, I crave your pardon. My mother hath been keeping me. Not
a groat have I received.”
“Spank, is it so?” his lordship cried, in a voice that shook the
cobwebs, and the frown on his brow shook the hearts of men, and mine as
much as the rest of them,--“Spank, is His Majesty come to this, that he
starves his own approvers?”
“My lord, my lord,” whispered Mr. Spank, the chief-officer of evidence,
“the thing hath been overlooked, my lord, among such grave matters of
treason.”
“I will overlook thy head, foul Spank, on a spike from Temple Bar, if
ever I hear of the like again. Vile varlet, what art thou paid for? Thou
hast swindled the money thyself, foul Spank; I know thee, though thou
art new to me. Bitter is the day for thee that ever I came across thee.
Answer me not--one word more and I will have thee on a hurdle.” And he
swung himself to and fro on his bench, with both hands on his knees; and
every man waited to let it pass, knowing better than to speak to him.
“John Ridd,” said the Lord Chief Justice, at last recovering a sort of
dignity, yet daring Spank from the corners of his eyes to do so much as
look at him, “thou hast been shamefully used, John Ridd. Answer me not
boy; not a word; but go to Master Spank, and let me know how he behaves
to thee;” here he made a glance at Spank, which was worth at least ten
pounds to me; “be thou here again to-morrow, and before any other case
is taken, I will see justice done to thee. Now be off boy; thy name is
Ridd, and we are well rid of thee.”
I was only too glad to go, after all this tempest; as you may well
suppose. For if ever I saw a man's eyes become two holes for the devil
to glare from, I saw it that day; and the eyes were those of the Lord
Chief Justice Jeffreys.
Mr. Spank was in the lobby before me, and before I had recovered
myself--for I was vexed with my own terror--he came up sidling and
fawning to me, with a heavy bag of yellow leather.
“Good Master Ridd, take it all, take it all, and say a good word for me
to his lordship. He hath taken a strange fancy to thee; and thou must
make the most of it. We never saw man meet him eye to eye so, and yet
not contradict him, and that is just what he loveth. Abide in London,
Master Ridd, and he will make thy fortune. His joke upon thy name proves
that. And I pray you remember, Master Ridd, that the Spanks are sixteen
in family.”
But I would not take the bag from him, regarding it as a sort of bribe
to pay me such a lump of money, without so much as asking how great had
been my expenses. Therefore I only told him that if he would kindly keep
the cash for me until the morrow, I would spend the rest of the day in
counting (which always is sore work with me) how much it had stood me in
board and lodging, since Master Stickles had rendered me up; for until
that time he had borne my expenses. In the morning I would give Mr.
Spank a memorandum, duly signed, and attested by my landlord, including
the breakfast of that day, and in exchange for this I would take the
exact amount from the yellow bag, and be very thankful for it.
“If that is thy way of using opportunity,” said Spank, looking at me
with some contempt, “thou wilt never thrive in these times, my lad. Even
the Lord Chief Justice can be little help to thee; unless thou knowest
better than that how to help thyself.”
It mattered not to me. The word “approver” stuck in my gorge, as used
by the Lord Chief Justice; for we looked upon an approver as a very low
thing indeed. I would rather pay for every breakfast, and even every
dinner, eaten by me since here I came, than take money as an approver.
And indeed I was much disappointed at being taken in that light, having
understood that I was sent for as a trusty subject, and humble friend of
His Majesty.
In the morning I met Mr. Spank waiting for me at the entrance, and very
desirous to see me. I showed him my bill, made out in fair copy, and
he laughed at it, and said, “Take it twice over, Master Ridd; once for
thine own sake, and once for His Majesty's; as all his loyal tradesmen
do, when they can get any. His Majesty knows and is proud of it, for
it shows their love of his countenance; and he says, '_bis dat qui cito
dat_,' then how can I grumble at giving twice, when I give so slowly?”
“Nay, I will take it but once,” I said; “if His Majesty loves to be
robbed, he need not lack of his desire, while the Spanks are sixteen in
family.”
The clerk smiled cheerfully at this, being proud of his children's
ability; and then having paid my account, he whispered,--
“He is all alone this morning, John, and in rare good humour. He hath
been promised the handling of poor Master Algernon Sidney, and he
says he will soon make republic of him; for his state shall shortly be
headless. He is chuckling over his joke, like a pig with a nut; and that
always makes him pleasant. John Ridd, my lord!” With that he swung up
the curtain bravely, and according to special orders, I stood, face to
face, and alone with Judge Jeffreys.
[Illustration: 212.jpg Tailpiece]