Part 29 (2/2)

”A poor lady--you remember Mrs. Stubbs--had a picture of her great-great-grandfather's great-grandfather. In goes the Claimant, and in his artful manner shows his childhood's memory. 'Ah, Mrs. Stubbs,'

says he, looking at another picture, 'that is not the _old_ picture, is it?' (Somebody had put him up to this.) No, sir,' cries Mrs.

Stubbs, delighted with his recollection--'no, sir; but please to walk this way into my parlour,' And there, sure enough, was the picture he had been told to ask for.

”'Ah!' he exclaims, 'there it is; there's the old picture!'

”How could Mrs. Stubbs disbelieve her own senses?”

One, Sir Walter Strickland, declined to see the Claimant and be misled, and was roundly abused by the defendant's counsel. One of the jury asked if _he was still alive_. ”Yes,” said the Lord Chief Justice, although the defendant expressed a hope that they would all die who did not recognize him....

”In a letter to Rous, my lord, where he said, 'I see I have one enemy the less in Harris's death. Captain Strickland, who made himself so great on the other side, went to stay at Stonyhurst with his brother, and died there. He called on me a week before and abused me shamefully. So will all go some day'--this,” said Mr. Hawkins, ”was not exhibiting the same Christian spirit which he showed when he said, 'G.o.d help those poor _purgured_ sailors!'”

”Why should the defendant,” asked Mr. Hawkins at the close of one of the day's speeches, ”if he were Sir Roger, avoid Arthur Orton's sisters? Why, would he not have said, 'They will be glad indeed to see me, and hear me tell them about the camp-fire under the canopy of heaven,' as his counsel put it, 'where their brother Arthur told me all about Fergusson, the old pilot of the Dundee boat, who kept the public-house at Wapping, and the Shetland ponies of Wapping, and the Shottles of the Nook at Wapping, and wished me to ask who kept Wright's public-house now, and about the Cronins, and Mrs. MacFarlane of the Globe--all of Wapping.'”

The Judges fell back with laughter, and the curtain came down, for these were the questions with many more the Claimant asked on the evening of his landing.

”I shall attack the n.o.ble army of Carabineers,” said Mr. Hawkins on another occasion. He did so, and conquered the regiment in detail.

One old Carabineer was librarian at the Westminster Hospital. His name was Manton, and he was a sergeant. He told Baigent something that had happened while Roger was his officer, and Baigent told the Claimant.

Manton afterwards saw the huge man, and failed to recognize him in any way. But when the Claimant repeated to him what he had told Baigent, Manton opened his eyes. This looked like proof of his being the man.

He was struck with his marvellous recollection, and was at once pinned down to an affidavit:--

”The Claimant's voice is stronger, and has less foreign accent,”

he swore; ”but I recognized his voice, and found his tone and p.r.o.nunciation to be _the same as Roger Tichborne's_, whom I knew as an officer.”

Truly an affidavit is a powerful auxiliary in fraud.

While Mr. Hawkins was replying one afternoon, Mr. Whalley, M.P., came in and sat next to the Claimant. He was from the first one of his most enthusiastic supporters.

”Well,” he said, ”and how are we getting on to-day? How are we getting on, eh?”

”Getting on!” growled the Claimant; ”he's been going on at a pretty rate, and if he goes on much longer I shall begin to think I am Arthur Orton after all.”

I will conclude this chapter with the following reminiscences by Lord Brampton himself.]

I had a great deal to put up with from day to day in many ways during this prolonged investigation. The Lord Chief Justice, c.o.c.kburn, although good, was a little impatient, and hard to please at times.

My opponent sought day by day some cause of quarrel with me. At times he was most insulting, and grew almost hourly worse, until I was compelled, in order to stop his insults, to declare openly that I would never speak to him again on this side the grave, and I never did. My life was made miserable, and what ought to have been a quiet and orderly performance was rendered a continual scene of bickering and conflict, too often about the most trifling matters.

With every one else I got on happily and agreeably, my juniors loyally doing their very utmost to render me every a.s.sistance and lighten my burden.

Even the Claimant himself not only gave me no offence from first to last, but was at times in his manner very amusing, and preserved his natural good temper admirably, considering what he had at stake on the issue of the trial, and remembering also that that issue devolved mainly upon my own personal exertions.

Nor was the Claimant devoid of humour. On the contrary, he was plentifully endowed with it.

One morning on his going into court an elderly lady dressed in deep mourning presented him with a religious tract. He thanked her, went to his seat, and perused the doc.u.ment. Then he wrote something on the tract, carefully revised what he had written, and threw it on the floor.

The usher was watching these proceedings, and, as soon as he could do so un.o.bserved, secured the paper and handed it to me.

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