We are not litigious in Troy, and we obey the laws of England cheerfully if we sometimes claim to interpret them in our own way. I leave others to determine whether the Chief Constable's decision, that one policeman amply suffices for us, be an effect or a cause, but certain it is that we rarely trouble any court, and almost never that of Assize.
This accounts in part for the popular interest awakened by the suit of Cox versus Pretyman, heard a few days ago at the Bodmin Assizes. I say "in part," because the case presented (as the newspapers phrase it) some unusual features, and differed noticeably from the ordinary Action for Breach of Promise. "No harm in that," you will say? Indeed no; and we should have regarded it as no more than our due but for an apprehension that the conduct alleged against the defendant concerned us all by compromising the good name of our town.
At any rate, last Wednesday found the streets full of citizens hurrying to the railway station, and throughout the morning our stationmaster had difficulty in handling the traffic. The journey to Bodmin is not a long one as the crow flies, but, as our carpenter, Mr. Hansombody, put it, "we are not crows, and, that being the case, naturally resent being packed sixteen in a compartment." Mr. Hansombody taxed the Great Western Company with lack of foresight in not running excursion trains, and appealed to me to support his complaint. I argued (with the general approval of our fellow-travellers) that there was something heartless in the idea of an excursion to listen to the recital of a woman's wrongs, especially of Miss Cox's, whom we had known so long and esteemed. Driven from this position, Mr. Hansombody took a fresh stand on the superiority of the old broad-gauge carriages; and this, since it raised no personal question, we discussed in very good humour while we unpacked and ate our luncheons.
In the midst of our meal a lady at the far end of the compartment heaved a sigh and ejaculated "Poor thing!"—which at once set us off discussing the case anew. We agreed that such conduct as Pretyman's was fortunately rare amongst us. We tried to disclaim him—no easy matter, since his father and mother had been natives of Troy, and he had spent all his life in our midst. The lady in the corner challenged Mr. Hansombody to deny that our town was deteriorating—the rising generation more mischievous than its parents, and given to mitching from school, and cigarette smoking, if not to worse.
Now this was a really damaging attack, for Mr. Hansombody not only presides over our School Board, but has a son in the tobacco business. He met it magnificently. "He would dismiss (he said) the cigarette question as one upon which—Heaven knew with how little justice!—he might be suspected of private bias; but on the question of truancy he had something to say, and he would say it. To begin with, he would admit that the children in Troy played truant; the percentage of school attendance was abnormally low. Yes, he admitted the fact, and thanked the lady for having called attention to it, since it bore upon the subject now uppermost in our minds. He had here"—and he drew from his pocket a magazine article—"some statistics to which he would invite our attention. They showed the average school attendance in Cornwall to be lower than in any county of England or Wales. But"—and Mr. Hansombody raised his forefinger—"the same statistician in the very same paper proves the average of criminal prosecutions in Cornwall to be the lowest in England and Wales."
"And you infer—" I began as he paused triumphantly.
"I infer nothing, sir. I leave the inference to be drawn by our faddists in education, and I only hope they'll enjoy it."
Well, apart from its bearing on Mr. Hansombody's position as Chairman of our Board (which we forbore to examine), this discovery consoled us somewhat and amused us a great deal until we reached Bodmin, when we hurried at once to the Assize Court.
I have said that the action, Cox v. Pretyman, was for damages for Breach of Promise of Marriage. Both parties are natives and parishioners of Fowey, and attend the same place of worship. The plaintiff, Miss Rebecca Cox, earns her living as a dressmaker's assistant; the defendant is our watch-maker, and opened a shop of his own but a few months before approaching Miss Cox with proposals of marriage. This was fifteen years ago. I may mention that some kind of counter-claim was put in "for goods delivered"; the goods in question being a musical-box and sundry small articles for parlour amusement, such as a solitaire-tray, two packs of "Patience" cards, a race-game, and the like. But the defendant did not allege that these had been sent or accepted as whole or partial quittance of his contract to marry, and I can only suppose that he pleaded them in mitigation of damages. Miss Cox asked for one hundred and fifty pounds.
Her evidence was given in quiet but resolute tones, and for some time disclosed nothing sensational. The circumstances in which Mr. Pretyman had sued for and obtained the promise of her hand differed in no important particular from those which ordinarily attend the fiancailles of respectable young persons in Troy; and for twelve years his courtship ran an even course. "After this," asserted Miss Cox, "his attentions cooled. He was friendly and kind enough when we met, and still talked of enlarging his shop-front and marrying in the near future. But his visits were not frequent enough to be called courting." Of late, though living in the same street, she had only seen him on Sundays; and even so he would be occupied almost all the day and evening with services, Sunday school, prayer-meetings, and occasional addresses. At length she taxed him with indifference, and, finding his excuses unsatisfactory, was persuaded by her friends to bring the present action. She liked the man well enough; but for the last two or three years "his heart hadn't been in it. He didn't do any proper courting."
Defendant's counsel (a young man) attempted in cross-examination to lead
Miss Cox to reveal herself as an exacting young woman.
"Do you assert that at length you came to see nothing of defendant during the week?"
"Only through the shop window as I went by to my work. And of late, when he saw me coming, he would screw a magnifying glass in his eye and pretend to be busy with his watch-making. I believe he did it to avoid looking at me, and also because he knew I couldn't bear him with his face screwed up. It makes such a difference to his appearance."
"Gently, gently, Miss Cox! You must not give us your mere suppositions.
Now, did he never pay you a visit, or take you for a walk, say on
Wednesdays? That would be early-closing day, I believe."
"Never for the last three years, sir, after he became a Freemason.
Wednesdays was lodge-night."
"Well then, on Saturday, after shop hours?"
"Yes, he used to come on Saturdays, till he was made a Forester.
The Foresters meet every Saturday evening."
"Mondays then, or Tuesdays? We haven't exhausted the week yet, Miss
Cox."
"No, sir. Mondays he was a Rechabite and went to tent. Tuesdays he would be an Ancient Druid—"
"Gently! On Mondays, you say, he was a Rechabite and went to tent.
What is a Rechabite? And what does he do in a tent?"
Plaintiff (dissolving in tears): "Ah, sir, if I only knew!"
Here the Judge interposed. A Rechabite, he believed, went to a tent, or habitation, for the purpose (among others) of abstaining from alcoholic drinks.
Plaintiff (briskly): "But, my lord, you wouldn't call that proper courting!"
Defendant's counsel had taken this opportunity to resume his seat.
But counsel for the plaintiff now arose, with a smile, to re-examine.
"Did Mr. Pretyman walk out with you on Thursday evenings?"
"Oh no, sir. On Thursday evenings Mr. Pretyman was an Oddfellow."
"I think we have only to account for Fridays," said his lordship, after consulting his notes.
"On Fridays, my lord, Mr. Pretyman was an Ancient Buffalo."
"An Ancient Buffalo?"
"Yes, my lord (sobbing). I don't know what it means, but that was the last straw."
"The first question for the jury to determine," said his lordship, a little later, "is whether an affianced young woman, as such, has a right to expect from her betrothed such attentions as may reasonably be taken as earnest of his desire to fulfil his contract within a reasonable time. In the present instance, the fact that the contract was made does not stand in doubt; it is not disputed. Now arises a second question. Can a man who is on weekdays a Freemason, a Rechabite, an Oddfellow, a Forester, an Ancient Druid, and an Ancient Buffalo, and on Sundays (as I gather) a Yarmouth Bloater—"
"Plymouth Brother, my lord," plaintiff's counsel corrected.
"I beg your pardon—a Plymouth Brother. I say, can a man who after his betrothal voluntarily preoccupies himself with these multifarious functions be held—I will not say to have disqualified himself for that willing exchange of confidence which is the surest guarantee of lasting happiness between man and wife—but to have raised such obstacles to the fulfilment of the original contract as reasonably warrant the accusation of mala fides?"
Well, the jury held that he could; for without troubling to leave the box they gave their verdict for the plaintiff, and assessed the damages at one hundred pounds.
Towards the close of the case we all felt ashamed of Pretyman. His defence had been weak; it struck us as almost derisory; and Mr. Hansombody agreed with me in a whisper that under similar circumstances he or I could have made a better fight for it. The fellow had shown no sport. We blushed for our town.
But Troy has a knack of winning its races on the post. Judgment, as the phrase goes, was on the point of being entered accordingly, when the defendant looked up towards the Bench with a sudden, happy smile.
"Here, wait a minute!" he said. "I have a question to put to his lordship."
"Eh?" said the Judge. "Certainly. What is it?"
"I want to know, my lord, if I can claim the benefit of the First
Offenders Act?"
The train on the return journey was worse crowded than ever; but nobody minded. For we had managed to give plaintiff and defendant a compartment to themselves.