It is scarcely necessary to say that during the sitting of the Courts I
have little time for what may be termed recreation. So when I visited
Bisley on the occasion of the competition for the Ashburnham Shield,
it was in a semi-military and semi-forensic capacity. It was no doubt
pleasing to see one's schoolfellows of a later generation maintaining
the _prestige_ of a common _Alma Mater_; but the chief attraction in
my eyes of the successor to Wimbledon was the presence under canvas of
much that is left of the "Devil's Own." And here let me pause for a
moment to discuss the traditional derivation of the alternative title
of the Inns of Court Rifle Volunteer Corps. I believe His late Majesty
King WILLIAM THE FOURTH (of marine memory) is usually believed
to have been the first to call his lawyer warriors by the name that,
to certain minds, has had since an unsympathetic significance. I am
of opinion that the Sailor Sovereign merely confirmed a title that
had already been obtained by usage. It is more than possible that the
initial supporters of the I. O. C. R. V. C. were counsel seldom holding
briefs of their own, but frequently appearing as "learned" but absent
"friends." It is needless to hint to the Bench and Bar that I refer to
"devils." If my assumption is correct, then indeed would the Battalion
be justly known to fame as "the Devil's Own."
[Illustration: The Skeleton of a Regiment.]
I wish I could deny the reports that have found their way into the
papers that the I. O. C. R. V. C. is less prosperous than it was of
yore. Personally, I have it on my conscience that I have not for many
years appeared on parade. To the best of my belief I have only once
joined the ranks. The occasion was a prize distribution in Lincoln's
Inn Hall. As an honorary member I was posted in the front rank of "A"
Company. Then came the perplexing command, "Fours right," which, so
far as I was concerned, ended in disaster. A little later I retired
from all active military service, and have remained in retreat ever
since. Still, at the sound of the bugle my pulse quickens, and I
feel that had I chosen the Tented Field instead of the Forum for the
exercise of my professional duties my career would not have suffered
in prosperity from the alteration. In fact, I believe that with the
conditions changed I should have had just as good a chance of becoming
Commander-in-Chief as Lord Chancellor. But these are regrets that are
out of place in the columns of a periodical that guards the interests
of the universe in general, while fostering the loftiest aspirations of
the legal profession in particular. So I cast them aside as unworthy
the attention of a counsel, a soldier, and a gentleman.
Let me return to the I. O. C. R. V. C. at Bisley. I found "those of the
faithful who have been true to their trust" defending themselves--there
was no trace of defiance in the action--from the fierce fire of the
noonday sun by wearing straw hats and sporting flannels. It was a
pretty picture, that made by the martial lawyers at their mid-day
parade. The tents, the tubs, the kitchen utensils, and last, but not
least, the mess-house, with its dining saloon and ante-room. Alas, that
the stability of the latter should be inappropriate! Alas, that the
corps, once the pride of the Volunteer Service, should be reduced to
four companies, and (so I believe) have lost its adjutant! Ichabod! How
the mighty have fallen!
As I watched the sad and yet impressive tableau old memories flocked
upon me. Where was the private who caricatured his Colonel, and showed
how a shako could be combined with a horse-hair wig, and yet look
military and forensic? Where was the lance corporal who invariably
confirmed his captain's commands with an "as your Lordship pleases?"
Where was the rear-rank wag who, on being told to charge, said he "must
leave that sort of thing to his clerk, who kept his fee-book?" Where
was the vocalist who would sing the songs of J. L. MOLLOY,
Barrister-at-Law, and knew the ins and outs of "The Maske of Flowers?"
All of them gone, and their places scarcely filled by new comers!
And, as I gazed upon an energetic private of the I. O. C. R. V. C.,
apparently preparing to meet the demands of an expected detachment of
hungry lunchers, I wondered whether anything could be done to revive
the fortunes of the Grand Old Battalion. Could the hours of leisure of
the warriors be occupied by regimental trips down the river, regimental
drags to the races, regimental dinners to one another, regimental
visits to the play, regimental strolls in the Row, regimental bicycles
in Battersea Park? I fancy something of this kind has already been
suggested. Then, if Barristers do not flock in sufficient numbers to
the banners of the Lamb, the Horse, and the Griffin, why not throw
open the ranks to wealthy persons--so to speak--fond of the leaders
of litigation? Again I imagine some such plan has already been under
consideration.
And, as I thought the matter over, I became gloomier and gloomier. So
sad was I that I had to visit the adjacent cemetery, to revive, under
the modified merriment of the place, into comparative cheerfulness. The
mere recollection of the I. O. C. R. V. C. unmans me. It is better that
I should pause, for I can write no more.
_Pump Handle Court, July 12, 1895._