The Reminiscences of Sir Henry Hawkins (Baron Brampton) Part 51

Alas! almost all of them have pa.s.sed away, yet they will live while the memory of the generation lasts which called them friends. They have vanished from the scenes in which they played so prominent a part, and yet their influence remains.

There was the old Admiral himself, the king of sportsmen and good fellows. Horse or man-o'-war, it was all one to him; and although sport may not be regarded as of the same importance with politics, who knows which has the more beneficial influence on mankind? I would have backed Admiral Rous to save us from war, and if we drifted into it to save us from the enemy, against any man in the world. Then there was his bosom friend George Payne, and the old, old Squire George Osbaldeston, Lord Falmouth, W.S. Crawfurd, the Earl of Wilton, Lord Bradford, Lord Rosslyn, Lord Vivian, the Duke of Hamilton, George Brace, General Mark Wood, Alexander, Lord Westmorland, the Earl of Aylesbury, Clare Vyner, Dudley, Milner, Sir John Astley ("The Mate"), Lords Suffolk and Berkshire, Coventry and Clonmell, Manton, Ker Seymer--the names crowd upon my memory; then, alas! a long, long while after, Henry Calcraft, Lord Granville, Lord Portsmouth, and "Prince Eddy," Lord Gerard, the Earl of Hardwicke, Viscount Royston, Sam Batchelor, and Tyrwhitt Wilson.

These are some of those whom I remember, and, by the way, I ought to add the Duke of Westminster and Tom Jennings, names interesting and distinguished, and indicative of a phase of life ever full of enjoyment such as is not known out of the sporting world, where excitement lends to pleasure the effervescence and sparkle which make life something more than animal existence.

This is true in hunting, racing, cricket, and I should think intensified in the highest degree in a charge of cavalry. Take Balaclava, for instance: the very fact of staking life at such odds must have compressed into that moment a whole life of ordinary pleasure.

I will mention a few more names, and then close another chapter of my memory. There was Mr. J.A. Craven, the Duke of St. Albans, the Duke of Beaufort, Montagu Tharp, Major Egerton, General Pearson, Lord Calthorpe, Henry Saville, Douglas Gordon (Mr. Briggs), Oliver Montagu, Henry Leeson, the Earl of Milltown, Sir Henry Devereux, Johnny Shafto, Douglas Phillips, Randolph Churchill, Lord Exeter, Lord Stamford.

Of the famous jockeys and trainers there were John Scott, Mat Dawson, Fred Archer. There were also James Weatherby, Judge Clark, and Tattersall.

CHAPTER XLIX.

LEAVING THE BENCH--LORD BRAMPTON.

At length the time came when I was to bid good-bye to the Queen's Bench and the Court No. 5 in which I had so long presided, where I had met and made so many friends, all more or less learned in the law. I had been a Judge since the year 1876, and Time, in its never-ceasing progress, had whispered to me more than once, "Tarry not too long upon the scene of your old labours, where your presence has made you a familiar object to all the members of every branch of your great and responsible profession; and while health and vigour and intelligence still, by G.o.d's blessing, remain to you, apparently unimpaired by lapse of years, take some of that rest and repose which you have earned, ere it be too late."

Thereupon, without any needless ceremony of leave-taking, at the close of the year 1898 I took my leave of the Bench with a simple bow.

Silently, but with real affection for all I was leaving behind me, I quitted my occupation on the Bench. I considered this to be a far more dignified way of making my exit than meeting face to face the whole of the court and its pract.i.tioners and officers, and leaving it to the eloquent and friendly speech of the Attorney-General to flatter me far beyond my deserts in the customary farewell address which he would have offered to me. I thought it better to rely upon the expressions and conduct of those who knew me well, and to feel that they appreciated the discharge of the many arduous duties which I had been called on to perform. As some evidence of this, I would point to the good wishes from all kinds and cla.s.ses of people which have followed me into private life, and the numerous letters which every post brought me, and which would fill a volume in themselves.

But the crowning honour was graciously conferred upon me by her late Majesty Queen Victoria on January 1, 1899, through the then Marquis of Salisbury, who signified that her Majesty intended to raise me to the peerage. His lordship's letter announcing the gracious act I recall with feelings of pleasure and grat.i.tude, and I need not say that it will, while life lasts, be my greatest pride. I was subsequently sworn of her Majesty's Privy Council, and for more than two years attended pretty regularly in the Final Court of Appeal.

It does not behove me to say more on this subject than that the acknowledgment of my long services by the Sovereign must ever be my greatest pride and satisfaction.

On February 7, 1899, I was introduced to the House of Peers, and took my seat.

I chose for my name and designation the t.i.tle of Baron Brampton, which her Majesty was pleased to approve. My little property, therefore, which I mentioned earlier in my reminiscences, conferred on me what was more valuable than its income--the t.i.tle by which I am now known.

Speaking with reference to those long years ago when I was dissuaded from my career by those who doubtless had the most affectionate interest in my welfare, and to whose advice I proved to be so undutiful, I cannot help, whether vanity be attributed to me or not, contrasting the position of the penniless articled clerk in the attorney's office and the situation which came to me as the result of unremitting labour.

Let me state it with pride as well as humility that my rewards have been beyond my dreams and far above my deserts.

On February 7, in a committee room of the House, I was met by my supporters and those whose duties made them a portion of the ceremony, and realized the ambition that came to me only in my later life.

Some members of my family would have preferred the family name to be a.s.sociated with the t.i.tle. I must confess I had some attachment for it, as it had rendered me such good service, and it was somewhat hard to give it up.

If, however, I had had any hesitation, it would have been removed when one afternoon Lord ---- called on me, and in his chaffing manner said,--

"Well, I hear you are to be Lord '_Awkins_ of '_Itchin_, 'Erts."

"Be ---- if I will!" said I; "Brampton's the only landed estate I have inherited, and although the old ladies who are life-tenants kept me out of it as long as they could, I shall take my t.i.tle from it as the only thing I am likely to get out of it."

"Bravo!" said he. "I don't like 'Awkins of 'Itchin, 'Erts. _Brampton_ sounds like a t.i.tle; and so my hearty congratulations, and may you and her ladyship live long to enjoy it!"

"Mr. Punch" was good enough to furnish me with a beautiful and humorous coat of arms, done by that very talented artist Mr. E.T.

Reed.

Since the commencement of this volume many of the old friends mentioned in it with affectionate remembrance have gone to their rest, and I am steadily approaching my own end. Trusting to the mercy and goodness of G.o.d, I patiently await my summons. I can but humbly add that to the best of my poor ability I have ever conscientiously endeavoured in all things to do my duty.

And now, as I lay down my pen, dreamily thinking over old names, old friends, and old faces of bygone years, I live my life over again.

Everything pa.s.ses like a picturesque vision before my eyes. I can see the old coach which brought me from my home--a distance of thirty miles in eight hours--a rapid journey in those days. This was old Kirshaw's swift procedure. Then there was the "Bedford Times" I travelled with, which was Whitehead's fire-engine kind of motor; but generally in that district John Crowe was the celebrated whip.

Then pa.s.ses before me the old c.o.c.k that crew over the doorway in Fleet Street, a Johnsonian tavern of mighty lineage and celebrity for chops and steaks. And I see the old waiter, with his huge pockets behind, in which he deposited the tons of copper tips from the numberless diners whom he attended to during his long career.

Then I observe the Rainbow, by no means such a celebrity, although more brilliant than the Mitre by its side; and in the Mitre I see (but only in imagination) Johnson and Goldsmith talking over the quaint philosophy of wine and letters till three o'clock in the morning, finishing their three or four bottles of port, and wondering why they were a little seedy the next day.

And there sits at my side, enjoying his chop, Tom Firr, described as the king of huntsmen--a true and honest sportsman, simple, respectful, and respected, whose name I will not omit from my list of celebrities, for he is as worthy of a place in my reminiscences as any M.F.H. you could meet.

CHAPTER L.

SENTENCES.

There is no part of a Judge's duty which is more important or more difficult than apportioning the punishment to the particular circ.u.mstances of a conviction. As an ill.u.s.tration of this statement I would take the offence of bigamy, where in the one case the convicted person would deserve a severe sentence of imprisonment, while in another case he or she might be set at liberty without any punishment at all. Such cases have occurred before me.

The sentence of another Judge upon another prisoner ought not to be followed, for each prisoner should be punished for nothing but the particular crime which he has committed. For this reason the case of each individual should be considered by itself.

I dislike, also, the practice of pa.s.sing a severe sentence for a trifling offence merely because it has been a common habit in other places or of other persons. For instance I have known five years of penal servitude imposed for stealing from outside a shop on a second conviction, when one month would have been more than enough on a first conviction, and two or three months on a second conviction. For small offences like these the penalty should always be the same in character--I mean not excessive imprisonment, and never penal servitude. As often as a man steals let him be sent to prison, and it may be for each offence the time of imprisonment should be somewhat slightly increased, but not the character of the punishment.

Years ago, in my Session days, I remember a poor and, I am afraid, dishonest client of mine being _transported for life_ (on a second conviction for larceny) for stealing _a donkey_; but I doubt if that could happen nowadays. It seems incredible.

n.o.body who has carefully noted the innumerable phases of crime which our criminal courts have continually to deal with, and the infinite shades of guilt attached to each of those crimes, will fail to come to the conclusion that one might as well attempt to allocate to its fitting place each grain of sand, exposed to the currents of a desert and all other disturbing influences, as endeavour by any scheme or fixed rule to determine what is the fitting sentence to be endured for every crime which a person can be proved, under any circ.u.mstances, to have committed.

The course I adopted in practice was this. My first care was never to pa.s.s any sentence inconsistent with any other sentence pa.s.sed under similar circ.u.mstances for another though similar offence. Then I proceeded to fix in my own mind what ought to be the outside sentence that should be awarded for that particular offence had it stood alone; and from that I deducted every circ.u.mstance of mitigation, provocation, etc., the balance representing the sentence I finally awarded, confining it purely to the actual guilt of the prisoner.

I have noticed that burglaries with violence are rarely committed by one man alone, and that when two or more men are concerned in a murder, one or more of them being afraid that some one, in the hope of saving himself from the treachery of others, is anxious to shift the whole guilt of the robbery, with its accompanying violence, on to the shoulders of his comrades. It is well that this should be so, and that such dangerous criminals should distrust with fear and hatred their equally guilty a.s.sociates.

Except for special peremptory reasons, I never pa.s.sed sentence until I had reconsidered the case and informed my own mind, to the best of my ability, as to what was the true magnitude and character of the offence I was called upon to punish.

The effect of such deliberation was that I often mitigated the punishment I had intended to inflict, and when I had proposed my sentence I do not remember ever feeling that I had acted excessively or done injustice. I am now quite certain that no sentence can be properly awarded unless after such consideration. I speak, of course, only of serious crimes.

It has more than once happened that even after all the evidence in the case was before the jury, as was supposed, I have discovered that an accused man, in _mitigation of sentence_, has pleaded that which would have been a _perfect defence to the charge made against him_! One of these instances was very remarkable. It happened at some country racecourse.

A man was charged with robbing another who was in custody in charge of the police for "welshing." The prisoner had undoubtedly, while the prosecutor, as I will call him, was in custody, and being led along the course, rushed up to him, after jumping the barriers, and put his hand in his coat-pocket, pulling out his pocket-book and other articles. He then made off, but was pursued by the police and arrested. He was indicted for the robbery, and the facts were undisputed.

There was no defence set up, and I was about to ask the jury for their opinion on the case, which certainly had a very extraordinary aspect.

Suddenly the prisoner blurted out, as excusing himself,--