At length, being quite at the end of my money, and
seeing no other help for it, I determined to listen
to clerks no more, but force my way up to the Justices,
and insist upon being heard by them, or discharged
from my recognisance. For so they had termed
the bond or deed which I had been forced to execute,
in the presence of a chief clerk or notary, the very
day after I came to London. And the purport of
it was, that on pain of a heavy fine or escheatment,
I would hold myself ready and present, to give evidence
when called upon. Having delivered me up to sign
this, Jeremy Stickles was quit of me, and went upon
other business, not but what he was kind and good
to me, when his time and pursuits allowed of it.
[Illustration: 203.jpg Tailpiece]
A GREAT MAN ATTENDS TO BUSINESS
[Illustration: 204.jpg Westminster Hall, 1650]
Having seen Lord Russell murdered in the fields of
Lincoln’s Inn, or rather having gone to see
it, but turned away with a sickness and a bitter flood
of tears—for a whiter and a nobler neck
never fell before low beast—I strode away
towards Westminster, cured of half my indignation
at the death of Charles the First. Many people
hurried past me, chiefly of the more tender sort,
revolting at the butchery. In their ghastly faces,
as they turned them back, lest the sight should be
coming after them, great sorrow was to be seen, and
horror, and pity, and some anger.
In Westminster Hall I found nobody; not even the crowd
of crawling varlets, who used to be craving evermore
for employment or for payment. I knocked at three
doors, one after other, of lobbies going out of it,
where I had formerly seen some officers and people
pressing in and out, but for my trouble I took nothing,
except some thumps from echo. And at last an
old man told me that all the lawyers were gone to see
the result of their own works, in the fields of Lincoln’s
Inn.
However, in a few days’ time, I had better fortune;
for the court was sitting and full of business, to
clear off the arrears of work, before the lawyers’
holiday. As I was waiting in the hall for a good
occasion, a man with horsehair on his head, and a
long blue bag in his left hand, touched me gently
on the arm, and led me into a quiet place. I followed
him very gladly, being confident that he came to me
with a message from the Justiciaries. But after
taking pains to be sure that none could overhear us,
he turned on me suddenly, and asked,—
“Now, John, how is your dear mother?”
“Worshipful sir” I answered him, after
recovering from my surprise at his knowledge of our
affairs, and kindly interest in them, “it is
two months now since I have seen her. Would to
God that I only knew how she is faring now, and how
the business of the farm goes!”
“Sir, I respect and admire you,” the old
gentleman replied, with a bow very low and genteel;
“few young court-gallants of our time are so
reverent and dutiful. Oh, how I did love my mother!”
Here he turned up his eyes to heaven, in a manner
that made me feel for him and yet with a kind of wonder.
