From desire to afford the destroyers of Corrall’s cottage time to
reflect and make reparation for the injury they had inflicted on the old
man and his wife; and wishing to abstain from all appearance of
strife-making, the topic has remained till now untouched.
On the 28th of November Mr. S., as the agent of a respectable clergyman
whose sympathy had been excited by the statements of the _Table Book_,
called on me to make some inquiries into the case, and I invited him to
accompany me to Corrall’s shed. We proceeded by a stage to the “Old
Mother Red Cap,” Camden-town, and walked from thence along the New Road,
leading to Holloway, till we came to the spot at the western corner of
Hagbush-lane, on the left-hand side of the road. We had journeyed for
nothing--the shed had disappeared from the clay swamp whereon it stood.
Along the dreary line of road, and the adjacent meadows, rendered
cheerless by alternate frosts and rains, there was not a human being
within sight; and we were at least a mile from any place where inquiry
could be made, with a chance of success, respecting the fugitives. As
they might have retired into the lane for better shelter during the
winter, we made our way across the quaggy entrance as well as we could,
and I soon recognised the little winding grove, so delightful and
lover-like a walk in days of vernal sunshine. Its aspect, now, was
gloomy and forbidding. The disrobed trees looked black, like funeral
mutes mourning the death of summer, and wept cold drops upon our faces.
As we wound our slippery way we perceived moving figures in the distance
of the dim vista, and soon came up to a comfortless man and woman, a
poor couple, huddling over a small smouldering fire of twigs and leaves.
They told us that Corrall and his wife had taken down their shed and
moved three weeks before, and were gone to live in some of the new
buildings in White-conduit fields. The destitute appearance of our
informants in this lonely place induced inquiry respecting themselves.
The man was a London labourer out of employment, and, for two days, they
had been seeking it in the country without success. Because they were
able to work, parish-officers would not relieve them; and they were
without a home and without food. They had walked and sauntered during
the two nights, for want of a place to sleep in, and occasionally
lighted a fire for a little warmth--
“The world was not their friend, nor the world’s law.”
We felt this, and Mr. S. and myself contributed a trifle to help them to
a supper and a bed for the night. It was more, by all its amount, than
they could have got in that forlorn place. They cheerfully undertook to
show us to Corrall’s present residence, and set forward with us. Before
we got out of Hagbush-lane it was dark, but we could perceive that the
site of Corrall’s cottage and ruined garden was occupied by heaps of
gas-manure, belonging to the opulent landowner, whose labourers
destroyed the poor man’s residence and his growing stock of winter
vegetables.
[Illustration: ~A last Look at Hagbush-lane.~]
----“A man may see how this world goes with no eyes. Look with thine
ears: see how yon’ justice rails upon yon’ simple thief. Hark in thine
ear: change places; and handy dandy, which is the justice, which is the
thief?----
“Through tatter’d cloaths small vices do appear;
Robes and furr’d gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold,
And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks:
Arm it in rags, a pigmy’s straw doth pierce it.”
We found Corrall and his wife and child at No. 3, Bishop’s-place,
Copenhagen-street. The overseers would have taken them into the
workhouse, but the old man and his wife refused, because, according to
the workhouse rules, had they entered, they would have been separated.
In “The Form of Solemnization of Matrimony,” it is enjoined, after the
joining of hands, “Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put
asunder;” and though this prescription is of the highest order of law,
yet it is constantly violated by parochial authority. Corrall is
sixty-nine years old, and his wife’s lungs appear diseased. Were they
together in the poor-house they would be as well circumstanced as they
can ever hope or wish; but, this not being allowed, they purpose
endeavouring to pick up a living by selling ready dressed meat and small
beer to labouring people. Their child, a girl about seven years of age,
seems destined to a vagabond and lawless life, unless means can be
devised to take her off the old people’s hands, and put her to school.
On leaving them I gave the wife five shillings, which a correspondent
sent for their use:[511] and Mr. S. left his address, that, when they
get settled, they may apply to him as the almoner of the benevolent
clergyman, on whose behalf he accompanied me to witness their
situation.----
This notice will terminate all remark on Hagbush-lane: but I reiterate,
that since it ceased to be used as the common highway from the north of
England into London, it became a green lane, affording lovely walks to
lovers of rural scenery, which lawless encroachments have despoiled, and
only a few spots of its former beauty remain. It is not “waste” of the
manors through which it passes, but belongs to the crown; and if the
Commissioners of Woods and Forests survey and inquire, they will
doubtless claim and possess themselves of the whole, and appropriate it
by sale to the public service. True it is, that on one or two occasions
manor homages have been called, and persons colourably admitted to
certain parcels; but the land so disposed of, a homage could not legally
admit claimants into possession of; nor could an entry on the court
rolls confer a legal title. Indeed the court rolls themselves will, at
least in one instance, show that the steward has doubted his lord’s
right; and the futility of such a title has seemed so obvious, that some
who retain portions of Hagbush-lane actually decline admission through
the manor-court, and hold their possessions by open seizure, deeming
such a holding as legal, to all intents and purposes, as any that the
lord of the manor can give. Such possessors are lords in their own
right--a right unknown to the law of England--founded on mere force;
which, were it exercised on the personalties of passengers, would
infallibly subject successful claimants to the inconvenience of taking
either a long voyage to New South Wales, or, perhaps, a short walk
without the walls of Newgate, there to receive the highest reward the
sheriff’s substitute can bestow.
*
[511] I am sorry I cannot remember the initials to this gentleman’s
letter, which has been accidentally mislaid.
* * * * *
~Discoveries~