The Scene at the Modern Ceremony
Humorous account of a recent Flitch festival, which appeared in the
London _Star_, may be reproduced in part, as an outsider's impression
of the modern ceremony--
The sun poured down on Dunmow meadows. Most of the population of the
country round was gathered in holiday dress, and a steam barrel
organ, which neighed a series of melodies without intermission, drove
all the birds to the adjoining counties and made things sonorously
cheerful. The rustics threw balls at cocoanuts, drank beer, ate
cakes, and disported themselves innocently through the early hours
awaiting the matrimonial inquisition.
The huge marquee tent, where the secrets of several households were
to be ruthlessly laid bare, was visited by a number of chubby
gentlemen who whispered mysteriously. Finally, at three o'clock all
was ready, and public shillings flowed in a steady stream into the
committee's hat. Soon the tent was crowded to suffocation.
There was a platform with a big chair for the judge, a bench for the
claimants and tables for the counsel. There were twelve seats for
the jury on the left. An assortment of functionaries walked to and
fro on the stage and disappeared into side rooms through _portières_
artistically constructed of old corn bags blended in tasteful
harmony. Finally the _portières_ swung back and the historical
company appeared.
There was a Judge in scarlet and ermine wearing a full-bottomed wig
which appeared to have been thoughtfully improvised overnight from a
woolly grey doormat. There were two Counsel in wigs and gowns, one
for the claimants and one against them. There was an Usher in a gown
and fishing pole, which, it was explained to anxious enquirers, was
his rod of office. This picturesque party sat down with great
gravity, and looked at each other with great gravity until the jury
came in.
The Jury created a sensation. It consisted of six pairs of
strawberry and cream cheeks, six dimpled noses and six new straw
hats. It wore other things also, including white dresses and knots
of pink ribbon to indicate its official importance. It also giggled
and then looked serious, but it did not all giggle at once or look
serious at once.
After the young misses came six lads with knots of ribbon and feet
which the owners seemed to want to get out of the way. One juryman
in his despair had the courage to begin a conversation with the young
jurywoman in front of him.
It is one of the rules of the Flitch that the married couples shall
be judged by a Jury whose matrimonial knowledge is purely theoretical.
The first couple were a parson and his wife, both a little portly.
They were a charming couple however, and had the documents to prove
it. The second pair was a doctor and his wife and both wore
eye-glasses. They were slender. The wife smiled pleasantly and the
husband looked shrewd and good-natured. The lady belonging to the
third couple seemed starched and stiff and her husband had rather a
crisp expression. The first name of the male claimant in this case
was William Willie. Smaller absurdities than this have been the
subject of a domestic scene, but the life of Mr. and Mrs. William
Willie was understood to be beautiful. Mrs. William Willie was a
laundress, and William Willie occasionally helped her.
The history of each couple was given. They were all of middle age
and had all been married within a few years. Mr. William Willie, it
was said, fell in love with Mrs. William Willie at Hounslow, and,
though called to foreign parts, returned to find her faithful.
The attorney for the claimants was an eloquent man. He spoke of
Fitzwalter and other things and then he said that he was confident
that his clients would safely pass the ordeal and told the jury so
repeatedly, the jury giggling each time.
When the first couple stood up it was certainly very funny. The
audience laughed loud and long. There is nothing very much funnier
than a sedate and elderly couple being gravely questioned in the
presence of hundreds of people concerning the details of their daily
life. Mr. William Willie said his wife was the best woman in
England, and she always sweetly bade him goodbye when he went and
greeted him with a loving smile when he came. The searching
questions were so absurd and were answered in such a straightforward
way that the Counsel for the claimants lost control of himself and
laughed till the tears rolled down his cheeks, the audience doing
likewise.
Mrs. William Willie was equally straightforward but a little
uncomfortable. She explained that her husband wiped his feet in
muddy weather, did not smoke too much and never indulged in
spirituous liquors.
Finally the Counsel, with a triumphant glance at the Jury, turned
this pair over to the opposing Counsel.
Then came some impromptu repartee between Counsel, which was entirely
successful. Then searching questions by the Counsel for the Bacon
and more laughter. Mr. and Mrs. William Willie had testimonials from
friends who had visited them to say that a cross word was unknown in
their home. Counsel said that was all very well, but no one
quarrelled before company. He wanted to know whether affairs were
equally amicable in private. With great ingenuity he went over all
the various ways in which husbands manage to ruffle the feathers of
their spouses, but finally based his address to the Jury on the
general valuelessness of testimonials and the all-round improbability
of the whole story.
Then came another hot argument for the claimants, and the Judge
summed up with great impartiality. After this the case went to the
Jury.
It was awkward at first, but soon it got to whispering quite busily.
Each jurywoman leaned back and was talked to by the juryman behind
her, six pink ears being in such close proximity to six downy upper
lips that nobody was in the least surprised when it was announced
that the Jury wished to retire. It retired and it was gone many
minutes. It was even feared that it had eloped, and the usher with
the fishing pole was sent after it, and brought it back. It settled
down with more giggles and the verdict was announced: For the
claimants. And there was a storm of applause.
The other two cases passed off similarly and more quickly. Two such
tender husbands and two such happy wives were never seen. It was a
foregone conclusion in each case.
The chairing of the two couples through the crowds in the meadow with
their Bacon swinging before them followed.
It is hardly necessary to add the comment of an historian of Essex on
the attempt "to raise the ghost of the Custom": "The ceremony was
only a theatrical parade of dry bones; the ancient spirit of the
thing was not there--so impossible is it for society to go backward
or to clothe with flesh the skeleton of an obsolete habit or dead
custom, which modern feeling and refinement have long entombed."
Three years ago an imitation of the Dunmow celebration was attempted
at Walthamstow.
In 1909 the farmers round about Dunmow, by co-operating to form a
Dunmow Flitch Bacon Factory, carried forward the Bacon tradition on
new lines.
This local record--by a Vegetarian! for _tempora mutantur_, and with
the changed times which have overthrown the Flitch, _nos mutamur in
illis_--should not close perhaps without the following extract from a
rhyme in _Punch_. If a little better than some other poetical
effusions on the subject of the Flitch, it certainly ignores the
basic principle of the Flitch foundation, that it takes two to make a
quarrel!--
If ever through the coming year,
You feel a mood of deep distress,
The cause whereof may not appear
(Maybe the cook, or cussedness);
If there should come the moment when
You seem to lose your self-control,
And counting slowly up to ten
Fails to relieve your soul;
If you should feel insanely prone
To controversial debate
Till reason totters on her throne
For pure desire to aggravate;
If you would madly say, you will,
Merely because I hope you won't,
Dear, though it almost makes you ill,
Think of the Flitch, and don't.
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[Illustration: DUNMOW TOWN HALL, "COUNSEL FOR THE BACON", PRIORY
CHURCH IN 1802]
DUNMOW TOWN HALL, where the ceremony presided over by Harrison
Ainsworth took place.
"COUNSEL FOR THE BACON."--Mr. T. Gibbons in this rôle cross-examining
a Claimant.
PRIORY CHURCH IN 1802.--From a drawing of this date, valuable as
showing a part of the edifice now demolished.
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[Illustration: IN LITTLE DUNMOW, "PRIORY PLACE"]
IN LITTLE DUNMOW.--A typical old dwelling in Little Dunmow. It was
such an one, Rose Farm, that Harrison Ainsworth had in mind in
describing his Dunmow Flitch Inn.
"PRIORY PLACE."--An extremely old building now in use as cottages,
where the Courts of the Lord of the Manor were held. Supposed to be
on the site of the Priory Manor house.
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