JACK.
I was always fond of dogs, and never cease to admire their
intelligence and sagacity.
My little Jack was given to me when quite a puppy by my old and very
dear friend Lord Falmouth. He was brought to me by Lady Falmouth, and
from that time his history was my history, for his companionship was
constant and faithful; in my hours of labour and of pleasure he was
always with me, and I believe, if I had had any sorrows, he would have
shared them as he did my pleasures--nay, these he enhanced more than I
can tell.
Of course he invariably came circuit, and sat with me in my lodgings
and on the Bench, where he would patiently remain till the time came
to close my notebook for the day. Whether he liked it or not I am
unable to say, but he seemed to take an interest in the proceedings.
About this, however, his reminiscences will speak for themselves. He
always occupied the seat of honour in the Sheriff's carriage, and
walked to it with a dignity worthy the occasion. I am glad to say the
Judges all loved Jack, and treated him most kindly, not for my sake,
but, I believe, for his own--although, I may add in passing, he
sometimes gave them a pretty loud rebuke if they showed any approach
to ill-humour on an occasional want of punctuality in coming into
court. Some of them were exceedingly particular in being up to time to
a _moment_; and I should have equal to the occasion at all times, but
that I had to give Jack a run before we started for the duties of the
day. It was necessary for his health and good behaviour. On circuit,
of course, whenever there was little to do--I am speaking of the
Midland particularly, although the Western was quite as pleasant--I
gave him longer runs. For instance, in Warwick Park nothing could be
more beautiful than to loiter there on a summer morning amongst the
cedars on the beautiful lawn.
It may seem unreasonable to say so, but Jack almost seemed to be
endowed with human instincts. He was as restless as I was over long,
windy speeches and cross-examinations that were more adapted for
the smoking-room of a club than a court of justice; and in order to
repress any tendency to manifest his displeasure I gave him plenty of
exercise in the open air, which made him sleep generally when counsel
began to speak.
Having mentioned the commencement of my companionship with Jack, which
in these reminiscences I would on no account omit, I shall let him
hereafter tell his own experience in his own way.
JACK'S REMINISCENCES.
I was born into the family of my Lord Falmouth, and claim descent from
the most well bred of my race in this kingdom, the smooth fox terrier.
All my ancestors were noted for their love of sport, their keen sense
of humour, and hatred of vermin.
At a very early period of my infancy I was presented to Sir Henry
Hawkins, one of Her Majesty's Judges of the High Court, who took a
great fancy to me, and, if I may say so without appearing to be vain,
at once adopted me as his companion and a member of his family.
Sir Henry, or, as I prefer to call him, my lord, treated me with the
sweetest kindness, and I went with him wherever it was possible
for him to take me. At first my youthful waywardness and love of
freedom--for that is inherent in our race--compelled him to restrain
me by a string, which I sometimes pulled with such violence that my
lord had to run; and on seeing us so amusing ourselves one morning,
old Lord Grimthorpe, I think they called him, who was always full of
good-natured chaff, cried out,--
"Halloa, Hawkins! What, has Jack made you his prisoner? Ha! ha! Hold
him, Jack; don't let him get away!"
Well, this went on for several weeks, what I think you call chaff, and
at last I was allowed to go without the string. It happened that on
the very first morning when I was thus given my liberty, whom should
we meet but this same old Lord Grimthorpe.
"Halloa!" he cries again--"halloa, Hawkins! Does your keeper let you
go without being attached to a string?"
"No, no," says my lord--"no, no; Jack's attached to _me_ now."
Thereupon dear old Grimthorpe, who loved a joke, laughed till his
elbows rested on his knees as he stooped down.
"Well," said he, "that's good, Hawkins, very good indeed."
On one occasion one of those country yokels who always met us at
Assize towns, and got as close up to our javelin-men as they could, so
that we could not only see them but indulge our other senses at the
same time, seeing us get out of our carriage, said to another yokel,
"I say, Bill, blarmed if the old bloke ain't brought his dawg
again--that there fox terrier--to go a-rattin'."
I did not know what "rattin'" meant at that time, and did not learn
it till we got to Warwick. I thought it was rude to call my lord a
"bloke," especially in his red robes; but did not quite know what
"bloke" meant, for I had seen so little of mankind.
One morning before we opened the Commission at Warwick--I may as well
come to it at once--my lord and I went for a walk along the road that
leads over the bridge by Warwick Castle towards Leamington. There is a
turning to a village which belonged to the old days, but does not
seem now to belong to anything, and looks something like a rural
watering-place, quiet and unexciting. We turned down this quiet road,
and came alongside a beautiful little garden covered with flowers of
all kinds.
I had occasion afterwards to learn whom they belonged to; but I
will tell you before we go further, so as to make the situation
intelligible. He was a countryman who used to make it his boast that
he never had a day's schooling in his life (so that he ought to have
been leader of the most ignorant classes), and this made him the
independent man he was towards his betters. Then my Lady Warwick used
to take notice of him, and this also gave him another lift in his own
estimation. He learnt to read in the long run, for he really had
a good deal of native talent for a man, and set himself up for a
politician and a something they call a philosopher, which any man can
be with a pint pot in front of him, I am told, especially at a village
alehouse.
He was a great orator at the Gridiron beershop in the lane which runs
round one part of my Lord Warwick's park, and it was said that old
Gale--such was his name--had picked up most of his education from his
own speeches. Gale was also the lawyer of the village--he could tell
everybody what his rights were, if anybody had any besides Gale; but
he declared he had been done out of _his_ rights by a man who had lent
his old father some money on the bit of land I am coming to.
As we went along, what should we see but a rat! I knew what he was in
a moment, although I had never seen such a thing before, and knew I
had to hunt him. My lord cries, "_Cis_!--_rat, Jack_--_rats_!"
Away I went after the rat--I did not care what his name was--and Sir
Henry after me, with all the exuberance he used to show when he was
following the "Quorn." Presently we heard the dreadful orator's voice
using language only uttered, I am glad to say, amongst men.
"Where the h--l are you coming to like this?" he cried.
I forgot to say that our marshal was with us, and of course he took
upon himself to explain how matters stood; indeed, it was one of his
duties when Judges went out a-ratting to explain _who_ they were. So
when we arrived at the place where they were talking together, I heard
the dreadful man say,--
"Judge o' th' land! He ain't much of a judge o' th' land to tear my
flowers to pieces like that. Look at these 'ere toolips."
The marshal explained how that it was for the improvement of Sir Henry
Hawkins's health that a little fresh air was taken every morning.
"Lookee 'ere," says Gale, "I didn't know it wur the Judge doin' me the
honour to tear my flower-beds to pieces. I bin workin' at these 'ere
beds for months, and here they are spilt in a minit; but I tell
ee what, Orkins or no Orkins, he ain't gwine to play hell with
my flower-beds like that 'ere. If he wants the ground for public
improvement, as you call it, well, you can take it under the Act.
There's room enough for improvement, I dessay."
Now, instead of his lordship sending the man to prison, as I thought
to be sure he must do, he speaks to him as mild as a lamb, and tells
him he commends his spirit, and actually asks him what he valued the
flowers at. A Judge condescending to do that! This mollified the old
man's temper, and turned away his flowery wrath, so he said at once he
wasn't the man to make a profit out o' the circum_starnce_; but right
was right, and wrong worn't no man's right, with a great many other
proverbs of a like nature, which are as hard to get rid of amongst men
and women as precedents amongst Judges; and then the old man, much
against his will and inclination, had a sovereign forced upon him by
our marshal, which he put into his pocket, and then accompanied us to
the gate.
Now came this remarkable circumstance. When we got back to our
lodgings after being "churched," what should we find but a beautiful
nosegay of cut flowers in our drawing-room from old Gale, and every
morning came a similar token of his good-nature and admiration while
we were there, and the same whenever we went on that circuit.
One of our servants was kind enough to make me a set of robes exactly
like my lord's, which I used to wear in the Court of Crown Cases
Reserved and at high functions, such as the Queen's Birthday or
Chancellor's breakfast. In court I always appeared in mufti on
ordinary occasions--that is to say, I did not appear at all
ostentatiously, like some men, but sat quietly on my lord's robe close
to his chair.
I well remember one occasion while we were at Hereford, a very pompous
and extremely proper town, as all cathedral cities are; my lord and I
were robed for the reception of the High Sheriff (as he is called) and
his chaplain, who were presently coming with the great carriage to
take us to be churched before we charged the grand jury.
Hereford is a very stately place, and enjoys a very high opinion of
its own importance in the world. It is almost too respectable to admit
of the least frivolity in any circumstances. You always seemed to
be going to church at Hereford, or just coming out--the latter was
nicest--so that there was, in my time, a sedateness only to be
equalled by the hardness of a Brazil nut, which would ruin even my
teeth to crack. I don't know if that is a proper way in which to
describe a solid Herefordian; but if so, judge of the High Sheriff's
surprise, as well as that of the chaplain, when I walked by the side
of my lord into our drawing-room! I never saw a clergyman look so
glum! We were both in robes, as I observed, and my lord was so pleased
with my appearance that he held me up for the two dignitaries to
admire. But Hereford does not admire other people; they confine their
admirations within their own precincts.
On our way from the station to our lodgings, I ought to have said,
both these gentlemen were full of praises. Who would not admire a
Judge's companion?
Although Sheriff and chaplain were highly proper, the former could not
restrain a hearty laugh, while the latter tightened his lips with a
reproving smile. But then the chaplain, with a proper reverence for
the State function, afterwards looked very straight down his nose,
and, hemming a little, ventured to say,--
"My lord, are you _really_ going to take the little dog to divine
service in the cathedral?"
My lord looked quite astonished at the question, and then put his face
down to me and pretended to whisper and then to listen. Afterwards he
said,--
"No. Jack says not to-day; he doesn't like long sermons."
The chaplain would much rather I had gone to church than have heard
such a reprimand.
But this is not quite the end of my reminiscence. I heard on the best
authority that the sermon of the chaplain on that morning was the
_shortest he had ever preached_ as an Assize discourse, and my lord
attributed it entirely to my supposed observation on that subject, so
that my presence, at all events, was useful.
I have always observed that lesser dignitaries are more jealous of
their dignity than greater ones. Here was an excellent example of it.
The chaplain looked very severe, but when this little story reached
the ears of the good Bishop Atlay he was delighted, and wished to see
me. I was becoming famous. I made my call in due course, and let him
see that a Judge's dog was not to be put down by a mere chaplain, and
came away much gratified with his lordship's politeness. After this,
during our stay in the city, the Bishop gave me the run of his
beautiful new garden along the riverside. And there my lord and I used
to gambol for an hour after our duties in court were over. This lovely
garden was an additional pleasure to me, because I was relieved from a
muzzle. There was only one thing wanting: the Bishop kept no rats.
After this his lordship never saw my lord without asking the question,
"How's dear Jack?" which showed how much a Bishop could respect a
little dog, and how much superior he was to a chaplain. I heard him
say once we were all God's creatures, but that, of course, I was not
able to understand at the time. I did not know if it included the
chaplain.
I think I must now tell a little story of myself, if you will not
think me conceited. It is about a small matter that happened at
Cambridge. One day a very amiable but dreadfully noisy advocate was
cross-examining a witness, as I thought, rather angrily, because the
man would not say exactly what he wanted him to say. My lord did not
take notice of this, and it went on until I thought I would call
his attention to the counsel's manner, and, accordingly, gave a
growl--merely a growl of inquiry. Brown--which was the counsel's
name--was a little startled at this unexpected remonstrance, and
paused, looking up at the Judge.
"Go on," said my lord--"go on, pray," pretending not to know the cause
of the interruption.
He went on accordingly for a considerable time, with a very noisy
speech--so noisy that one could not hear one's self bark, which I did
two or three times without any effect. However, at last I made one of
my best efforts.
But this was bad policy, inasmuch as it attracted too much attention
to myself, who had been hitherto unseen.
My lord, however, thanks to his presence of mind, had the kindness to
say,--
"Dear me! I wish people would not bring their dogs into court." Then
turning to our marshal, he said, "Take Jack into Baron Pollock's
room"--the Baron had just gone in to lunch, for he was always punctual
to a minute--"and ask him to give him a mutton-chop."
And when, five minutes later, my lord came in, the Baron was enjoying
his chop, and I was eating my lord's.
In another court the Judge administered a well-timed rebuke to a
flippant and very egotistical counsel, and I could hardly restrain
myself from administering another. During the progress of a dreadfully
long address to the jury for the defence, he said,--
"Why, gentlemen, there is not sufficient evidence against the prisoner
_on which to hang a dog_."
"And how much evidence, Mr. ----, would you consider sufficient to
hang a dog?"
"That would depend, my lord, as to whom the dog belonged."
I thought how like human nature that young man was.
I used to have a very good view of all that took place in court,
and could tell some very funny as well as interesting stories about
persons I have seen.
One day I was amused _so_ much that, had I not remembered where I was,
I must, like my friends mentioned by Robert Burns in his "Twa Dogs,"
have "barked wi' joy," because I thought it so strange. Here was a
Queen's Counsel, a man of so proper a countenance that I do not think
it ever smiled in its life, and so very devoted to his profession that
he would never think of leaving it to go to a racecourse. I should
have as soon expected to meet him in our dogs' home looking for a
greyhound to go coursing with on Primrose Hill,--and here he was
standing up on his hind legs, and making an application to the court
which my lord was never in his life known to grant.
It was the night before the Derby, and we always took care to have a
full list of cases for that Wednesday, for _fear_ the public should
think we went to the Derby and left the work to look after itself.
We generally had about a dozen in pretty early in the afternoon of
Tuesday, so that the suitors and witnesses, solicitors and all others
whom it concerned, might know where they were, and that _they_ could
not go to the Derby the following day.
What a scene it was as soon as this list was published! I used to sit
and watch the various applicants sidle into their seats with the
most sheepish faces for men I ever saw. In came the first gentleman,
flustered with excitement.
"Would your lordship allow me to make an application?"
"Yes," said my lord--"yes; I see no objection. What is your
application, Mr. ----?" I will not give his name.
"There is a case, my lord, in to-morrow's list--number ten. It is
quite impossible, seeing the number of cases before it, that that case
can be reached."
"If that is so," said my lord, "there is no necessity for making any
application--if you know it is impossible to reach it, I mean to
say--"
"It is _ex abundanti cautela_, my lord."
I think that was the expression, but, as it is not dog-Latin, I am not
sure.
"It is a good horse to run, I dare say," said my lord, "but I don't
think he'll win this time."
The counsel shook his head and would have smiled, I could see that,
only he was disappointed. I felt sorry for him, because his clients
had made arrangements to go to the Derby. As he was turning
disconsolately away my lord spoke with a little more encouragement in
his tone and a quiet smile.
"We will see later, Mr. ----. Is your client _unable_ to appear
to-morrow?"
"I'm afraid so, my lord, quite."
"Have you a doctor's certificate?"
"I am afraid not, my lord; he is not ill."
"Then you can renew the application later; but understand, I am
_determined to get through the list_."
That was so like my lord; nothing would turn him from his resolution,
if he sat till midnight, and I nearly barked with admiration.
Then came number six on the list, with the same complaint that it was
not likely to be reached.
"I'm not so sure," said Sir Henry. "I have just refused number ten;
yours is a long way before that. Some of the previous ones may go off
very soon; there does not seem to be anything _very long_ in front of
you, Mr. ----. What's your difficulty about being here?"
"The real difficulty, my lord--" And as he hesitated the Judge said,--
"You want to be elsewhere?"
"Frankly, my lord, that is so."
"Very well; if both sides are agreed, I have no objection. If I am not
trying your case I shall be trying some one else's, and it is a matter
of perfect indifference to me whose case it is."
An hour after in came a brisk junior stating that his leader was
unavoidably absent.
"What is the application, Mr. Wallsend?"
"There's a case on your lordship's list for to-morrow, my lord."
"Yes. What number?"
"Number seven, my lord. I am told number six is a long case, and sure
to be fought. My application is that, as that case will last over
Friday--"
"Friday? Why Friday?"
There was a little laughter, because it happened to be the Oaks day.
"I'm told it's a long case, my lord."
"Yes, but number six has gone, so that you will stand an excellent
chance of coming on about two o'clock, perhaps a little before. What
is the nature of your case?"
"Illegal imprisonment, my lord."
"Very well; if it is any convenience to you, Mr. Wallsend, I will take
it last."
By the look of the young man it seemed of no great convenience.
"That will give your witnesses time to be here, I hope."
The counsel shook his head, and then began to say that the fact was
that his client had an engagement, and his lordship would see it was
the great race of the year.
"I do not like these applications made in this random manner. I
am willing to oblige the parties in all cases if I can, but these
constant motions to postpone interfere very much with the public
convenience, and I mean to say that the public are to be considered."
Now came the gentleman who never attended races, and devoted himself
to business. He could not have told you the name of a horse to save
his life. But he also made his application to postpone a case
until Thursday. Delightful day, Thursday; such a convenient day,
too--between the Derby and the Oaks.
Said my lord, who was very friendly to the learned counsel, and liked
him not only as a member of his old circuit, but as a brother Bencher
and a clever advocate,--
"Oh, I see; I see where _you_ want to be to-morrow."
"My lord!"
It was no use; in spite of the gentleman's remonstrance and
protestations, he said,--
"You may go, Mr. ----, and I hope you will enjoy yourself."
I need hardly say nothing was left of the list by twelve o'clock the
next day, and Sir Henry had the honour of going in the royal train and
dining at Marlborough House in the evening.
I ought, perhaps, to mention that there was a case proceeding when all
these interruptions took place. I don't know the name, but two counsel
were in it, one of whom was remarkable for the soul of wit which is
called _brevity_, and the other was not. One was Frank Lockwood, Q.C.,
a very amusing counsel, whom I always liked, because he often sketched
me and my lord in pen and ink.
Mr. Jelf, Q.C., was the other learned counsel. Although I liked most
of the barristers, I often wished I could teach them the invaluable
lesson _when to leave off_. It would have saved many a verdict, and
given me the opportunity of hearing my own voice.
Lockwood was cross-examining, and appeared to me dealing rather
seriously with Jelf's witnesses, who were a pious body of gentlemen,
and prided themselves, above all things, on speaking the truth, as
though it was a great credit not to commit perjury.
At last Mr. Jelf, tired with being routed in so ruthless a manner,
cried in a lamentable voice,--
"Pray, pray, Mr. Lockwood!"
"So I do," said Lockwood--"so I do, Mr. Jelf, at fitting and proper
times."