SAM WARREN, THE AUTHOR OF "TEN THOUSAND A YEAR."
Amongst the illustrious men whom I have met, the name of Sam Warren
deserves remembrance, for he was a genial, good-natured man, full
of humour, and generally entertained a good opinion of everybody,
including himself. He not only achieved distinction in his profession
and became a Queen's Counsel, but wrote a book which attained a
well-deserved popularity, and was entitled "Ten Thousand a Year."
He was a member of the Northern Circuit, and I believe was as popular
as his book. That he did not become a Judge, like several of his
friends, was not Sam's fault, for no man went more into society,
cultivated acquaintances of the best style, or had better
qualifications for the honour than he.
But although he did not achieve this distinction, he was made a little
lower than that order, and became in due time a _Master in Lunacy_, a
post, as it seemed from Sam's description, of the highest importance
and no little fun.
A part of his duties was to visit lunatic asylums and other places
where these patients were confined, with a view to report to the
authorities his opinion of the patients' mental condition. No doubt
to a man of Sam's observant mind this work presented many studies of
interest, as well as situations of excitement, and at times of no
little humour. He found, for instance, that many of these poor
creatures were possessed of a much larger income than ten thousand a
year. Some of them were Dukes and some supernatural beings, who were
just on a visit to this little clod of a world to see how things were
going.
Soon after his appointment, and before he had become used to the work,
he told me of a singular experience he once had with a particular
gentleman whom he was intending to report as having perfectly
recovered from any mental aberration with which he might have been
afflicted. Sam wondered how it was possible that a gentleman of such
culture and understanding should be considered a fit subject
for confinement, for he had several pleasant and intellectual
conversations with him, and found him quite agreeable and refined, and
of a perfectly balanced mind.
"I had been told," said the Master, "that the peculiar form of
derangement with this gentleman was that he had aspired to distinction
in the English Church; and on one memorable occasion when I called
he received me, not with the usual familiarity, but with a certain
stiffness and solemnity of bearing which was hardly in keeping with
his courteous demeanour on other occasions. One had to be on one's
guard at all times, or he might get a knife plunged into him without
notice. I chatted for some time in a kind and easy manner, hoping to
find that the mild restraint and discipline had done the poor fellow
good. Alas! how deceived I was, when, in a sudden rage, he turned upon
me, and asked _who the devil I thought I was talking to_?"
"I told him a gentleman of a kind nature, I was sure, and of an
amiable disposition.
"'Yes,' said he, 'but that is no reason why you should not treat me
with proper deference and with due respect for my exalted position.'
"I bowed politely, and expressed a hope that I should never forget
what was due from one gentleman to another.
"'No, no,' said he, 'that kind of excuse will not do. One gentleman to
another, indeed! Whom are you talking to? I insist on your treating
me with reverence and respect. Perhaps you do not know that I am _St.
Paul_?'
"'Indeed!' said I, 'I was not aware that I was speaking to that holy
Apostle, to one whom I hold in extreme reverence, and whose writings I
have made my study.'"
After that, it seems, they got on very well together for the rest of
the interview. Warren was able to delight him with his knowledge of
Cappadocia, Phrygia, and Pamphylia, and the little incident of leaving
his cloak at Troas, his shipwreck, and a vast number of things which
the Apostle seemed very pleased to hear, while he conducted himself
with that pious dignity which well deserved the obsequious reverence
of the official visitor. On parting, St. Paul said,--
"You are rather _mixed in your Scriptures_; the only thing you are
accurate about is _leaving my cloak at Troas_."
On Warren's next visit he resolved to conduct himself with more
reverence. St. Paul was looking much the same as on the previous
occasion. Sam genuflected, and held down his head, putting his hands
devoutly together, and making such other manifestations of reverence
as he thought the case required.
St. Paul looked at Warren with wonderment, and was evidently by no
means satisfied with his salutations.
"Who the devil," said the madman, "do you think you are making those
idiotic signs to? Whom do you take me for?"
"St. Paul, your holiness."
"'St. Paul, your holiness,' he repeated. 'My ----, you ought to be put
into a lunatic asylum and looked after. You must be stark mad to think
I am the holy Apostle St. Paul. What put that into your silly brains?
Down on your knees, villain, at once, and prostrate yourself before
_the Shah of Persia_--the dawn of creation and the light of the
universe!'
"I thought this was coming it pretty strong," continued Sam, "but as
it was all in my day's work, I conformed as well as I could to my
instructions. The difficulty was in knowing how to address His
Majesty, so I stammered, 'Dread potentate!' and seeing it pleased him,
'Light of the universe,' I cried, 'it is morning! May I rise?'
"'I perceive,' said the Shah, 'you are a genius,'"
"What did you think of his state of mind after that?" I asked.
Sam laughed and answered: "I thought he was getting better, more
rational, and thanked him for his good opinion. 'Mighty potentate,'
said I, 'monarch of the universe, I apologize for my mistake, but I
was at _St. Luke's_ yesterday,'
"'My faithful Luke!' said he, and clapped his hands. I knew once more
where he was.
"'The last time,' said I (thinking I would rather have him the amiable
Paul than the savage Shah), 'your Majesty informed me that you were
the holy Apostle St. Paul!'
"'So I am,' answered the Shah.
"'I am at a loss, your Majesty, I humbly confess, to understand how
your immortal Highness can be at one and the same time the blessed
Apostle St. Paul and the Shah of Persia,'
"'Because you are such a damned fool!' replied His Highness.
"Here was the fierceness of the Shah, but immediately the gentleness
of the Apostle restored him to a more amiable mood, and coming towards
me with a smile, he said,--
"'The explanation, my dear sir, is simple;' and then, in a quiet,
confidential tone, he added: '_It was the same mother, but two
fathers_!'"
"I had another experience not long after in the same asylum,"
continued Warren. "One of my patients told me he had married the
devil's daughter when I was asking him about his relations. 'She was
a nice girl enough,' he said, 'and although my people thought I had
married beneath me, I was satisfied with her rank, seeing she was a
Prince's daughter. We went off on our honeymoon in a chariot of fire
which her father lent us for the occasion, and had a comfortable time
of it at Monte Carlo, where all the hotels are under her father's
special patronage.'
"'I hope,' said I, 'your marriage was a happy one.'
"'Yes,' said he with a sigh, '_but we don't get on well with the old
folks_!'"
* * * * *
No writer was ever more solicitous of fame than Sam Warren. It was
a proud moment whenever there was the remotest allusion to his
authorship, and I always loved to compliment him on his books.
In the famous case of Lord St. Leonards's will, which had been lost, I
supported the lost will, and proved its contents from the evidence of
Miss Sugden and others.
Sam Warren had been in the habit of visiting Lord St. Leonards at
Boyle Farm, Ditton. He gave evidence as to what Lord St. Leonards had
told him respecting his intentions as to the disposal of his property.
After examining him, I said with a polite bow: "Mr. Warren, I owe you
an apology for bringing you into the Probate Court. I am sure no
one will ever dream of disputing _your_ will, because you have left
everybody '_Ten Thousand a Year_!'"
Whereupon Warren bowed most politely to me in acknowledgment of the
compliment; then bowed to the _Judge_, and received his lordship's bow
in return; then bowed to the _jury_, then to the _Bar_, and, lastly,
to the _gallery_.
Writing of the Probate and Divorce Court reminds me of a curious
application for the postponement of a trial made by George Brown, who
was as good a humorist as he was a lawyer.
I have said that Judges in those days were more strict in refusing
these applications than in ours, and Cresswell was no exception to the
rule. He disliked them, and rarely yielded. But Brown was a man of
a very persuasive manner, and it was always difficult to refuse him
anything. I was sitting in Cresswell's court when George rose as
soon as the Judge had taken his seat, and asked if a case might be
postponed which would be in the next day's list.
"Have you an affidavit, Mr. Brown, as to the reason?"
"Yes, my lord; but I can hardly put the real ground of my application
into the affidavit. I have communicated with the other side, and they
are perfectly agreeable under the circumstances."
"I cannot agree to postpone without some adequate cause being stated,"
said Cresswell.
"I am very sorry, my lord, but it will be very inconvenient to me to
be here to-morrow."
There was a laugh round the Bar, which Cresswell observing, asked what
the real reason was.
Brown smiled and blushed; nothing would bring him to state plainly
what the reason of his application was. At last, however, he
stammered,--
"My lord, the fact is I am going to take the first step towards a
divorce."
The appeal touched the Judge; the reason was sufficient. Every step in
a divorce was to be encouraged, especially the first. The application
was granted, and Brown was married the next day.