“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, ‘God 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 noble 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 pronunciation 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, Cockburn, although good, was a little impatient, and hard to please at times.