CHAPTER LXVII

THE COMMISSION RESUMED

The court resumed its sittings next morning at nine o’clock precisely, and as soon as the doors were open such a rush of people forced their way in, that every seat and place was occupied, and some time elapsed ere room was obtained for the counsel and professional gentlemen engaged in the inquiry. Mr. Jorrocks was accommodated with a seat in the reporters’ place, immediately behind his counsel. The jury having all answered to their names, and silence being at length obtained, Serjeant Horsefield rose to address the jury. He spoke in so low a tone of voice at the commencement, that it was with difficulty the reporters could catch what he said; but, with his usual urbanity, he obligingly supplied the deficiency by revising their reports.

“Gentlemen of the jury,” said he, “if my learned friend, Mr. Martin Moonface, with his splendid talents and vast acquirements, rose under circumstances of difficulty and embarrassment, how much greater must be my perplexity, in introducing myself to your notice, to attempt to grapple with and rebut the grave and voluminous charges with which his speech has loaded the inquiry, standing as I do without the manifold advantages of which my learned friend is so pre-eminently possessed? The learned gentleman well observed, that nothing but that high sustaining power—a moral consciousness of right—could induce any member of our profession to undertake the conduct of a case, and I claim for myself the same degree of credit for a similar assertion that my learned friend bespoke for himself. I ask—I implore you, gentlemen of the jury—I beseech you, as enlightened—as able—as conscientious citizens, to regard my assertions and my protestations of sincerity in the same light—and give them the same weight that you have given to the assertions and asseverations of my learned friend.” Here the learned gentleman made a long pause.

At length he resumed. “In opening this great and important case—great, I may call it, for it involves the liberty of many of the aristocracy of this country, and important it most certainly is, as regards the position of my most respectable client—my learned friend, Mr. Martin Moonface, introduced Mr. Jorrocks with an exordium upon the singularity of his name. I will not imitate the example of my learned friend, or speculate on the difference a change of name might have produced, but I will endeavour closely and sedulously to apply myself, and the best energies of which I am possessed, to the real merits and peculiarities of the case. As mercantile men, you are doubtless, many of you, acquainted with the exalted position occupied by my client in the commercial world; and if I can show—as show I believe I undoubtedly can—that the amusement which he now follows is not incompatible with the honest, industrious habits and occupations of a British merchant. I feel confident I shall receive a verdict at your hands. My client, as you may see,” pointing to Mr. Jorrocks in the reporters’ place, “is one whose heyday of youth has been succeeded by the autumn of maturer years; and shall I surmise for one moment in the presence of a jury, drawn from the very heart of this, the first city of the world—that a man entering trade binds himself irrevocably to the counter—with no bright prospect of affluence and case to gild the evening of his days, flitting in the vision of his mental horizon? Is a ‘youth of labour’ no longer to be crowned ‘with an age of ease’? Are the toils, the cares, the speculations, the enterprises of a British merchant to end but with his death? Is trade, in short, to be regarded as but another name for perpetual slavery? That, gentlemen, is the real question in its pure, unadulterated form, divested of the technicalities—freed from the mystifications and jargon—with which my learned friend’s logic and eloquence have attempted to envelope it. How stands the matter?

“Five-and-thirty years ago, my client, John Jorrocks, entered the firm of Grubbins, Muggins, Potts, Crow, and Tims, wholesale grocers in St. Botolph’s Lane. Mr. Jorrocks was then, gentlemen, just out of his apprenticeship, which he had served with such credit to himself and satisfaction to the firm, that they took him into partnership the moment they were able, and the firm then became Grubbins, Muggins, Potts, Crow, Tims, and Jorrocks Gentlemen, Grubbins and Muggins shortly after paid the debt of nature; but so great was the attention and ability of my client, that, instead of adding the number these deplorable events deprived the firm of, by fresh partners, Crow and Jorrocks divided the duties of one partner between them, and took in Mr. Simpkins, who had long filled the office of western traveller, and the partnership deed was then drawn out in the names of Potts, Crow. Tims, Jorrocks, and Simpkins. I need not follow my respectable client through the long labyrinth of years that followed, or through the weary mazes of commercial transactions and speculations which throve under his auspices;—suffice it to say, that revolving years found Mr. Jorrocks constant and sedulous at his warehouse, until the man who entered as the junior partner of the house stood at the head of a firm so long and so extensive, that it became necessary to condense its name under the title of Jorrocks and Co. I will give my learned friend the benefit of the admission, that for many years my client was in the habit of devoting his Saturdays to what Mr. Moonface calls hunt-festivals, and I will also give him the benefit of the admission that the county of Surrey was the arena of his operations. So far back as during the management of Mr. Maberly, my client’s name appears as a subscriber to the Surrey Hunt, and the same punctuality of payment characterizes this matter that characterizes all his other transactions. My learned friend commenced with a broad general rule, that any man following a pursuit at variance with trade must necessarily follow it to the detriment of the former, forgetting all the while, that though in trade, Mr. Jorrocks is so far independent of it as to be able to recreate himself, how and when he pleases, just as though he never had anything to do with it. But, gentlemen of the jury, though you, and I, and Mr. Martin Moonface, may not be aware of it, I am instructed to state that hunting is not only compatible with trade, but may even be followed with advantageous results.”

“So it may!” exclaimed Mr. Jorrocks; “so it may! werry good! say it’s the sport of kings; the image of war, without—” “Order, order, order!” cried all three Commissioners at once. “Really, Mr. Jorrocks,” observed the chief, “we shall have to order you out of court if you persist in interrupting counsel.” “Now do, Mr. Jorrocks,” interposed the learned Serjeant, very mildly, “let me argue your case for you, or else take it in hand entirely yourself; for between us we shall make nothing of it.”

“True,” replied Mr. Jorrocks, “true; too many cooks always spoil the broth; but just say now that ’unting is the sport of kings, the image of war without its guilt, and only five-and-twenty per cent of its danger.”

“But though I make this statement broadly and unequivocally,” continued the learned Serjeant, without noticing Mr. Jorrocks’s suggestion, “I take a still higher ground, and say that my client’s means entitle him to follow what pursuit he pleases, regardless of all pecuniary considerations. He is a wealthy man; and unless the promoters of this inquiry can show that he is spending such a sum upon the maintenance of his dogs as involves a probability of injury—injury of such an extent, mind you, as to amount almost to utter ruin—unless they can do this, I say, the success of their case is absolutely hopeless. This, gentlemen, I defy the promoters of this inquiry to do. I hold in my hand a number of an able work, by Mr. Blaine, who says, ‘that the practice of field-sporting is both convenient and useful we presume may be made evident, and it is only when these rural amusements are followed so unceasingly as to rob us of that time, wealth, and energy, which were given us for other purposes, that the pursuit of them can be censured.’ Censured, gentlemen, you observe, is the term; so that even if Mr. Jorrocks had devoted both day and night, and the whole of his income and energy, to the amusement of hunting, censure, and not a commission of lunacy to deprive him of the management of his affairs, would be all that he merited.

“But let me proceed a little farther with this author. ‘The severest moralist must allow,’ says Mr. Blaine, ‘that worldly wealth is a desirable possession; but when the miser brings upon himself premature decay, by the extent of his daily toils and nightly speculations to amass riches which he neither uses himself nor permits others to enjoy, the impartial observer sees in his conduct a flagrant abuse of wealth:—warped by his cupidity, he is poor in the midst of his plenty, and remains fast locked in the embraces of Want, that very fiend he supposes himself to be ever flying from.’ So that you see, gentlemen, so far from Mr. Jorrocks’s pastime being fitting subject of censure, it even becomes matter of encomium and recommendation. My pursuits, like those of my learned friend’s on the other side, have been of such a nature as to afford me but little insight into the detail of these hunting proceedings. I believe, however, my learned friend was right in describing a hunt-establishment to consist of a multitude of dogs, over which the head or chief reigns supreme. It is, I believe, the business of the establishment to muster at a certain hour of a morning, and then find a fox or other wild animal, who leads the mounted field a gallop across a country; and those who know the pleasure there is in being proudly borne on the back of a noble generous horse can appreciate the sensation of delight that must be experienced in riding at the head of a vast assembly, composed of all the choice and gallant spirits of the land. The very thought is exhilarating! The clear sky above, the wide expanse of country around, the refreshing air, the jovial spirits, the neighing steeds and chiding hounds, all in one rush of indescribable joy! Who does not exclaim with Shakspeare,—

“Bravo!” exclaimed Mr. Jorrocks, “werry good indeed—werry good indeed; say it’s the sport of kings, the image of—” The Commissioners again interpose, and vow they will turn Mr. Jorrocks out, or commit him for contempt of court. The Serjeant again acts as mediator, Mr. Jorrocks growling something about “werry ’ard that a man mightn’t kick up a row in his own court!”

“But shall it be,” continued the learned Serjeant, “because a man enters into and enjoys the enlivening scene,—because for a time he casts off the cares of the counter, and ‘this every-day working world,’ and roves unfettered in Nature’s wildest, most sequestered scenes, that he is to be declared insane and incompetent to the management of his affairs? Forbid it, reason! Forbid it, ye nobler and more generous feelings of our nature! Rather let us suppose, that, with mind refreshed and body strengthened, he returns to the peaceful occupations of his trade, grateful for the exercise he has enjoyed, and thankful for the means of partaking of it.”

observed Mr. Jorrocks to himself, in one of his whispers, which produced a roar of laughter, during a long pause the learned Serjeant made.

“My learned friend’s feelings were shocked at Mr. Jorrocks’s exultation at the sight of the drooping dahlias, and would fain draw a conclusion that a person who rejoiced at the return of winter must necessarily be insane; but consider, gentlemen, before you adopt such an idea what might be your situation if the sight of the snowdrop or crocus, drawing from you an exclamation of delight at the sight of returning spring, was to deprive you of the management of your affairs, and, perhaps, of your liberty!

“All you have heard, the evidence of Lumpkin, the evidence of Sniffle—Miss Sniffle, I should say—the evidence of Savoy, and the evidence of Greenwood, prove nothing but the devotion of Mr. Jorrocks to a highly popular pleasurable sport; and even the constable Strong, when detailing the act which principally caused the issuing of this commission, admitted that, for aught he knew to the contrary, the purchase and stacking of the horses was a prudent and commendable act. Fortunately, however, I am in a situation to prove that whatever Mr. Jorrocks has done in the way of management has been prudent and cautious, that his character is humane and moderate, and his uniform conduct all that can be desired of an honest grocer and a good man. My fervent hope is, that my excellent client may not suffer through the deficiency of his advocate. I am aware that I have not acquitted myself to the unfortunate gentleman—unfortunate in being placed in such a situation—in the manner I could have wished; but I feel confident, when you have heard the evidence I shall now proceed to offer, that you will come to the only conclusion open from the premises, namely, that Mr. Jorrocks is not only a rational, but a highly talented man.”

A buzz of applause followed the close of the learned Serjeant’s address, of which the foregoing is merely an outline, and the Court availed itself of the break in the proceedings to retire for a few minutes.

Mr. Jorrocks, whose spirits rose thirty per cent, with the eloquence of his advocate, now mounted upon the table, and, dancing about on one leg, declared he would “beat them arter all,”—offering to lay any one a guinea at to a sou’-wester that he did; upon which Pigg, seeing the jury eyeing him, exclaimed, “Had the gob thou ard gouk.” Whereupon nothing would serve Jorrocks but Pigg should sing them one of his national melodies,—should sing them,

“Unrivalled the ’ounds o’er which Jorrocks presides.”

But Pigg was impervious, telling his master, “he’d desarve arl he gat gin he went ramin’ on that way.”