Aid me, Muses! my endeavour is to sing a woful song,
How a very learned bishop in the Arches Court went wrong.
Aid me, for duplex querela is an uninviting theme,
And the practice of the Arches raises no poetic dream.
'Tis the Reverend Child Willis, child in name but not in age,
Comes he to the Court of Arches burning with a noble rage,
Filing his duplex querela, claiming for himself thereby
Vicarage of Drayton Parslow, or to know the reason why.
"Reason why?" the bishop answers; "that is not so far to seek.
Little Latin have you, Willis, innocent are you of Greek.
You were specially examined by my good Archdeacon Pott;
He reported to me promptly, 'Greek and Latin all forgot,
Non idoneus is Willis, minus et sufficiens,
He may have a sanum corpus, but he lacks a sana mens.'"
"Nay," says Willis, "such an answer is but trifling with the court,
I have preached a Latin sermon, and the classics are my forte,
You must name the books I failed in, you must give me every chance
Of a fresh examination at the hands of Lord Penzance."
Lord Penzance supported Willis: "Bishop, you must file," said he,
"Some more tangible objection, some less vague and general plea.
As it stands I cannot gather what it is you ploughed him in,
Whether Hellenistic aorists or the Latin word for sin."
But alas! the world has never known as yet what Willis did,
In the breast of the Archdeacon still it lies a secret hid.
Was his Latin prose defective? Did his style of writing show
More resemblance to Tertullian than to Tullius Cicero?
Were his dates a little shaky? Could it, could it be that he
Confidently made Augustine flourish at a date B.C.?
None will know save Pott, Archdeacon, for alas! the patroness
Showed no mercy to Child Willis in the day of his distress.
She revoked the presentation, leaving Willis in the lurch,
One of undisputed learning preached in Drayton Parslow church.
Doubly barren was his triumph, it was not a twelve-month ere
Death set up his Court of Arches, Willis did not triumph there.
DASHWOOD v. JERMYN
(12 Chancery Division, 776)
Captain Dashwood, who had been
In the service of the Queen,
Sick of "Eyes front" and "Attention,"
Came to London on his pension.
At the "Portland" as he stayed,
Firm the friendship that he made
With one William Richards, who
Put up at the "Portland" too.
Passed six years, then he was wrapped in
Love's embraces, vanquished captain!
"Yes," he cried, "I will; no bar shall
Stop my wedding Edith Marshall."
But there was a bar, 'twas that
He was poorer than a rat;
Indian pensions do not run
More than just enough for one.
Edith, too, had not a cent,
Who would pay the rates and rent?
Two more years, and Richards moved
(He perchance had sometime loved),
Promised them an income clear,
'Twas five hundred pounds a year
For his life; when he was dead,
Then ten thousand pounds instead.
This to Dashwood in a letter
Wrote he, deeming it was better
They should marry soon while he
Lived their happiness to see.
'Twas a modest sum, but marriage
May be blest without a carriage,
Forty pounds a month and more
Keep the wolf from near the door.
So they wed for worse or better,
On the faith of Richards' letter.
Scarcely was a quarter's payment
Due when mourning was their raiment.
Richards died. Alas! no cash would
Find its way to Captain Dashwood.
Dashwood's head began to swim—
Not a shilling left to him!
"Ha, I'll have it still," cried he;
"Justice dwells in Chancery."
So the case was straightway taken
To the court of V.-C. Bacon.
Vainly Dashwood cash expended
The executors defended,
Claiming that what Richards wrote
Was not worth a five-pound note;
First because the dead testator
Well, not wisely, loved the "cratur,"
More than that, had often been
In delirium tremens seen;
Secondly, because he signed
When he did not know his mind;
Third, because pollicitation
Is not good consideration.
Law, of justice independent,
Gave its judgment for defendant.
Poorer than he was at first,
That unhappy plaintiff cursed,
With a special satisfaction
Cursed the day he brought his action.
Would that he'd in India tarried!
Would that he had never married!
He, alas, is tied for life
Pauper to a pauper wife,
Scarce consoled that on his name
Equity reports shower fame,
Bearing down to endless ages
Dashwood's story on their pages.
EX PARTE JONES
(18 Chancery Division, 109)
Oh for the wily infant who married the widow and made
Profit of coke and of breeze, and never a penny he paid!
Oh for the Corporation of Birmingham cheated and snared,
Taking orders for coke that the widow and infant prepared!
Oh for the Court of Appeal, and oh for Lords Justices three!
Oh for the Act that infants from contracts may shake themselves free!
Oh for the common law with its store of things old and new!
Birmingham coke is good and good Coke upon Littleton too.