Chapter XXVIII
"Through coaches, drays, choked turnpikes, and a whirl
Of wheels, and roar of voices, and confusion,
Here taverns wooing to a pint of 'purl,'
There mails fast flying off, like a delusion.
"Through this, and much, and more, is the approach
Of travellers to mighty Babylon;
Whether they come by horse, or chair, or coach,
With slight exceptions, all the ways seem one."
BYRON.
When Newton Forster and his father arrived at London, they put up at an obscure inn in the Borough. The next day, Newton set off to discover the residence of his uncle. The people of the inn had recommended him to apply to some stationer or bookseller, who would allow him to look over a red-book; and, in compliance with these instructions, Newton stopped at a shop in Fleet-street, on the doors of which was written in large gilt letters—"Law Bookseller." The young men in the shop were very civil and obliging, and, without referring to the "Guide," immediately told him the residence of a man so well known as his uncle, and Newton hastened in the direction pointed out.
It was one of those melancholy days in which London wears the appearance of a huge scavenger's cart. A lurid fog and mizzling rain, which had been incessant for the previous twenty-four hours; sloppy pavements, and kennels down which the muddy torrents hastened to precipitate themselves into the sewers below; armies of umbrellas, as far as the eye could reach, now rising, now lowering, to avoid collision; hackney-coaches in active sloth, their miserable cattle plodding along with their backs arched and heads and tails drooping like barndoor fowls crouching under the cataract of a gutter; clacking of pattens and pestering of sweepers; not a smile upon the countenance of one individual of the multitude which passed him;—all appeared anxiety, bustle, and selfishness. Newton was not sorry when he turned down the narrow court which had been indicated to him, and, disengaged from the throng of men, commenced a more rapid course. In two minutes he was at the door of his uncle's chambers, which, notwithstanding the inclemency of the weather, stood wide open, as if there should be no obstacle in a man's way, or a single moment for reflection allowed him, if he wished to entangle himself in the expenses and difficulties of the law. Newton furled his weeping umbrella; and, first looking with astonishment at the mud which had accumulated above the calves of his legs, raised his eyes to the jambs on each side, where in large letters he read at the head of a long list of occupants, "Mr Forster, Ground Floor." A door with Mr Forster's name on it, within a few feet of him, next caught his eye. He knocked, and was admitted by the clerk, who stated that his master was at a consultation, but was expected back in half-an-hour, if he could wait so long. Newton assented, and was ushered into the parlour, where the clerk presented the newspaper of the day to amuse him until the arrival of his uncle.
As soon as the door was closed, Newton's curiosity as to the character of his uncle induced him to scrutinise the apartment and its contents. In the centre of the room, which might have been about fourteen feet square, stood a table, with a shadow lamp placed before the only part of it which was left vacant for the use of the pen. The remainder of the space was loaded with parchment upon parchment, deed upon deed, paper upon paper. Some, especially those underneath, had become dark and discoloured by time; the ink had changed to a dull red, and the imprint of many a thumb inferred how many years they had been in existence, and how long they had lain there as sad mementos of the law's delay. Others were fresh and clean, the japanned ink in strong contrast with the glossy parchment,—new cases of litigation, fresh as the hopes of those who had been persuaded by flattering assurances to enter into a labyrinth of vexation, from which, perhaps, not to be extricated until these documents should assume the hue of the others, which silently indicated the blighted hopes of protracted litigation. Two massive iron chests occupied the walls on each side of the fireplace; and round the whole area of the room were piled one upon another large tin boxes, on which, in legible Roman characters, were written the names of the parties whose property was thus immured. There they stood like so many sepulchres of happiness, mausoleums raised over departed competence; while the names of the parties inscribed appeared as so many registers of the folly and contention of man.
But from all this Newton could draw no other conclusion than that his uncle had plenty of business. The fire in the grate was on so small a scale, that, although he shivered with the wet and cold, Newton was afraid to stir it, lest it should go out altogether. From this circumstance he drew a hasty and unsatisfactory conclusion that his uncle was not very partial to spending his money.
But he hardly had time to draw these inferences and then take up the newspaper, when the door opened, and another party was ushered into the room by the clerk, who informed him, as he handed a chair, that Mr Forster would return in a few minutes.
The personage thus introduced was a short young man, with a round face, bushy eyebrows, and dogged countenance, implying wilfulness without ill-nature. As soon as he entered, he proceeded to divest his throat of a large shawl, which he hung over the back of a chair; then doffing his great coat, which was placed in a similar position, he rubbed his hands, and walked up to the fire, into which he insinuated the poker, and immediately destroyed the small symptoms of combustion which remained, reducing the whole to one chaos of smoke.
"Better have left it alone, I believe," observed he, reinserting the poker, and again stirring up the black mass, for the fire was now virtually defunct.
"You're not cold, I hope, sir?" said the party, turning to Newton.
"No, sir, not very," replied Newton, good humouredly.
"I thought so; clients never are: nothing like law for keeping you warm, sir. Always bring on your cause in the winter months. I do, if I can; for it's positive suffocation in the dog-days!"
"I really never was at law," replied Newton, laughing; "but if ever I have the misfortune, I shall recollect your advice."
"Never was at law! I was going to say, what the devil brings you here? but that would have been an impertinent question. Well, sir, do you know, there was a time at which I never knew what law was," continued the young man, seating himself in a chair opposite to Newton. "It was many years ago, when I was a younger brother, and had no property: no one took the trouble to go to law with me; for if they gained their cause, there were no effects. Within the last six years I have inherited considerable property, and am always in hot water. I heard that the lawyers say, 'causes produce effects.' I am sure I can say that 'effects have produced causes!'"
"I am sorry that your good fortune should be coupled with such a drawback."
"Oh, it's nothing! It's just to a man what a clog is to a horse in a field—you know pretty well where to find him. I'm so used to it—indeed so much so, that I should feel rather uncomfortable if I had nothing on my hands: just keeps me from being idle. I've been into every court in the metropolis, and have no fault to find with one of them, except the Court of R———ts."
"And pray, sir, what is that court, and the objection you have to it?"
"Why, as to the court, it's the most confounded ras———; but I must be careful how I speak before strangers: you'll excuse me, sir; not that I suspect you, but I know what may be considered as a libel. I shall, therefore, just state that it is a court at which no gentleman can appear; and if he does, it's of no use, for he'll never get a verdict in his favour."
"What, then it is not a court of justice?"
"Court of justice! no, it's a court for the recovery of small debts; but I'll just tell you, sir, exactly what took place with me in that court, and then you will be able to judge for yourself. I had a dog, sir; it was just after I came into my property; his name was Cæsar, and a very good dog he was. Well, sir, riding out one day about four miles from town, a rabbit put his nose out of a cellar, where they retailed potatoes. Cæsar pounced upon him, and the rabbit was dead in a moment. The man who owned the rabbit and the potatoes, came up to me and asked my name, which I told him; at the same time I expressed my sorrow at the accident, and advised him in future to keep his rabbits in hutches. He said he would, and demanded three shillings and sixpence for the one which the dog had killed. Now, although he was welcome to advice, money was quite another thing; so he went one way muttering something about law, and I another, with Cæsar at my heels, taking no notice of his threat. Well, sir, in a few days my servant came up to say that somebody wished to see me upon particular business, and I ordered him to be shown up. It was a blackguard-looking fellow, who put a piece of dirty paper in my hand; summoned me to appear at some dog-hole or another, I forget where. Not understanding the business, I enclosed it to a legal friend, who returned an answer, that it was a summons to the Court of R——ts; that no gentleman could go there; and that I had better let the thing take its course. I had forgotten all about it, when, in a few days, a piece of paper was brought to me, by which I found that the court adjudged me to pay £1 2s. 6d., for damages and costs. I asked who brought it, and was told it was the son of the potato-merchant, accompanied by a tipstaff. I requested the pleasure of their company, and asked the legal gentleman what it was for.
"'Eighteen shillings for ten rabbits destroyed by your dog, and 4s. 6d. for costs of court.'
"'Ten rabbits!' exclaimed I; 'why, he only killed one.'
"'Yes, sir,' squeaked out the young potato-merchant; 'but it was a doe rabbit in the family way; we counted nine young ones, all killed too!'
"'Shameful!' replied I. 'Pray, sir, did your father tell the court that the rabbits were not born?'
"'No, sir; father only said there was one doe rabbit and nine little ones killed. He asked 4s. 6d. for the old one, but only 1s. 6d. a-piece for the young ones.'
"'You should have been there yourself, sir,' observed the tipstaff.
"'I wish Cæsar had left the rabbit alone. So it appears,' replied I, 'he only asked 3s. 6d. at first; but by this Cæsarean operation, I am nineteen shillings out of pocket.'—Now, sir, what do you think of that?"
"I think that you should exclaim against the dishonesty of the potato-merchant, rather than the judgment of the court. Had you defended your own cause, you might have had justice."
"I don't know that. A man makes a claim against another, and takes his oath to it; you must then either disprove it, or pay the sum; your own oath is of no avail against his. I called upon my legal friend, and told him how I had been treated, and he then narrated the following circumstance, which will explain what I mean:—
"He told me that he never knew of but one instance in which a respectable person had gained his cause, and in which, he was ashamed to say, that he was a party implicated. The means resorted to were as follows:—A Jew upholsterer sent in a bill to a relation of his for a chest of drawers, which had never been purchased or received. Refusing to pay, he was summoned to the Court of R——ts. Not knowing how to act, he applied to my informant, who, being under some obligations to his relative, did not like to refuse.
"'I am afraid that you will have to pay,' said the attorney to his relation, when he heard the story.
"'But I never had them, I can swear to it.'
"'That's of no consequence; he will bring men to swear to the delivery. There are hundreds about the court who are ready to take any oath, at half a crown a-head; and that will be sufficient. But, to oblige you, I will see what I can do.'
"They parted, and, in a day or two my legal acquaintance called upon his relation, and told him that he had gained his cause. 'Rather at the expense of my conscience, I must acknowledge,' continued he; 'but one must fight these scoundrels with their own weapons.'
"'Well, and how was it?' inquired the other.
"'Why, as I prophesied, he brought three men forward, who swore to the delivery of the goods. Aware that this would be the case, I had provided three others, who swore to their having been witness to the payment of the bill! This he was not prepared for; and the verdict was given in your favour.'"
"Is it possible," exclaimed Newton, "that such a court of Belial can exist in England?"
"Even so; and as there is no appeal, pray keep out of it. For my—"
But here the conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Mr John
Forster, who had returned from his consultation.
We have already described Mr John Forster's character; we have now only to introduce his person. Mr John Forster was about the middle height, rather inclined to corpulency, but with great show of muscular strength. His black nether garments and silk stockings fitted a leg which might have been envied by a porter, and his breadth of shoulder was extreme. He had a slouch, probably contracted by long poring over the desk; and his address was as abrupt as his appearance was unpolished. His forehead was large and bald, eye small and brilliant, and his cheeks had dropped down so as to increase the width of his lower jaw. Deep, yet not harsh, lines were imprinted on the whole of his countenance, which indicated inflexibility and self-possession.
"Good morning, gentlemen," said he, as he entered the room; "I hope you have not been waiting long. May I request the pleasure of knowing who came first? 'First come, first served,' is an old motto."
"I believe this gentleman came first," replied the young man.
"Don't you know, sir? Is it only a believe?"
"I did arrive first, sir," said Newton; "but as I am not here upon legal business, I had rather wait until this gentleman has spoken to you."
"Not upon legal business—humph!" replied Mr Forster, eyeing Newton. "Well, then, if that is the case, do me the favour to sit down in the office until I have communicated with this gentleman."
Newton, taking up his hat, walked out of the door, which was opened by Mr Forster, and sat down in the next room until he should be summoned. Although the door between them was closed, it was easy to hear the sound of the voices within. For some minutes they fell upon Newton's ears; that of the young man like the loud yelping of a cur; that of his uncle like the surly growl of some ferocious beast. At last the door opened:
"But, sir," cried the young man, in alto.
"Pay, sir, pay! I tell you, pay!" answered the lawyer, in a stentorian voice.
"But he has cheated me, sir!"
"Never mind—pay!"
"Charged twice their value, sir!"
"I tell you, pay!"
"But, sir, such imposition!"
"I have told you twenty times, sir, and now tell you again—and for the last time—pay!"
"Won't you take up my cause, sir, then?"
"No, sir! I have given you advice, and will not pick your pocket!—Good morning, sir:" and Mr Forster, who had backed his client out of the room, shut the door in his face, to prevent further discussion.
The young man looked a moment at the door after it was closed, and then turned round to Newton.
"If yours is really law business, take my advice, don't stay to see him; I'll take you to a man who is a lawyer. Here you'll get no law at all."
"Thankye," replied Newton, laughing; "but mine really is not law business."
The noise of the handle of the door indicated that Mr Forster was about to re-open it to summon Newton; and the young man, with a hasty good morning, brushed by Newton and hastened into the street.