THE ATTORNEY AND THE SMUGGLER.
Tommy Johnson was a smuggler of the modern school, about which it ishardly necessary to say more than that it differs considerably from theold or the ideal school. Neither Tommy nor any of his men were thepicturesque ruffians that school-boy imagination describes, under thetutelary genius of well-known romancists; nor did they much resemble thefull-booted, rollicking giants which low art, in common pictures,invariably makes the bold smuggler.
Tommy, the smuggler chief, was a short, stout, ruddy-faced,good-humoured fellow, who lived much as small tradesmen (of whom he wasalso one) live in that part of the south of England to which hebelonged. Every body, it is said, liked him, and he liked everybody--except a revenue-officer.
Of Johnson's kith and kindred nobody knew, and few cared to inquire, anything. Whether Tommy was his real name or not, I am uncertain. When onone occasion, being in trouble, he was asked by a local magistrate whohis friends (perhaps meaning his relatives) were, jovial Tommy, with ashow of distress, replied somewhat as that eccentric child of the Rev.Mrs. Stowe, Topsy, might have done, "that he 'spected he hadn't gotany." There was, however, too much modesty or a little untruth in this.Tommy Johnson had hosts of sympathisers, who were prepared at all timesto do him any service in their power. Rumour for many miles about hisplace of abode gave him credit for being what he really was--a smuggler.Tommy felt it necessary sometimes to vary the compliment, but notalways. He never went so far as to repudiate having defrauded therevenue. He was rather pleased to hear folks embody in words the populartheory that there was no harm in robbing the Custom House. He did notcare to hide from some people that he did now and then run a vesselclandestinely between a Dutch port and some mysterious point off acraggy side of the Isle of Wight. He, however, usually preferred to beknown as a man who had once been in, but now retired from, thatbusiness.
Tommy, who was an otherwise prosperous man, once determined that hewould indeed give up his perilous and unlawful business or profession.
"My dear," he once observed to his loving wife, on their return fromchurch one Sunday evening, "I'll cut smuggling. I'm thinking it's time Idid. We can afford it, you know. This here business, the butcher's shop,pays; the inn at P---- would honestly pay of itself; and the brickfieldturns out right."
"I wish you would, with all my heart," his wife replied.
"I will. My mind's made up."
"You have said that before, Tommy," observed his sweet partner; "but youcan't do it. I wish you could. You must be a smuggler. It's the fun ofit you like, as you say, I suppose?"
"Well, yes, I will. I've quite made up my mind. When I _do_ really makeup my mind to any thing, you know, I do it. I'll have just one more run,just _one_ more, and then I drop the game, and stick to the trade onland."
"That's what you said the year before last. Do you recollect the time,Tommy?"
Tommy shuddered. He made that promise to himself, and kept it by runninga lugger from a port in the Netherlands to one of his points ofconcealment here. The affair turned out a bad one. The coast-guarddiscovered the arrival of the boat, seized the craft and its contents,and Tommy Johnson also, and ultimately lodged him in the gaol atWinchester, where he had to undergo a long imprisonment, pending thearrival of the assizes.
That the smuggler then had friends was here demonstrated. The facts wereas plain as they could be, but their interpretation or bearing on thequestion of guilt or innocence was left to the jury, who had the lawexpounded for their guidance with all possible certainty. Tommy Johnsonwas acquitted in the teeth of evidence and the strength of a sympathybetween himself and every man in the jury-box.
Let me, however, return to the last conversation between Mr. and Mrs.Johnson.
"I would have cut it after that," he said; "but it cost such a sight ofmoney. What with the loss of the ship, and all the rum, brandy, andhollands, and the hard money I paid Lawyer Swelling, we were almostruined. I couldn't stop then. Neck or nothing, I must go in again; butnow we're on our legs again, thank God! and I'll drop the game after onemore slice of luck."
Having made this resolution, Mr. Johnson next day proceeded to executeit. He drew out two good round sums of money from different banks; afine lugger, "a perfect beauty," as he declared, was soon afterwardsbought, and she was in due course freighted with liquors on aneighbouring coast.
I happened, not many weeks after this, to be travelling as an outsidepassenger by the coach from Cowes to Ventnor, in the Isle of Wight, whentwo revenue-carts, heavily laden, passed us on the road.
"My eyes!" exclaimed my driver; and addressing a man who swayed the whipin the first cart, he inquired, "Whose is that lot?"
"Tommy Johnson's, we suppose."
"Poor fellow! unlucky again!" sighed the coachman.
The last venture that was to crown the honest resolution had, then,failed, and worse had to be encountered.
The repentant smuggler was again locked up in Winchester Gaol for aweary succession of months. The case had already been establishedagainst him by the clearest evidence. Tommy's heart dropped. His rotundform became elongated, his cheeks lost their plumpness and their colour,his garments hung loosely about his person, and his mind was ill atease.
This was the fourth time Tommy Johnson had been put on his trial for alike offence against the laws of his country. Each time his case was, inthe opinion of his legal advisers, more desperate than before. The factswere not each time stronger, but the prejudice against the prisonerincreased with his reappearance in the dock.
Tommy and his wife resolved that no expense should be spared over thedefence. Mr. Swelling, of Gosport, who had been so very successful onformer occasions, was again instructed, and told to lay out as muchmoney as he pleased in briefs to counsel. I reckon that he made a finething out of this bold modern smuggler. Four hundred pounds sterlingwere paid to him on account at starting. Another hundred were given himbefore the gaol delivery came round; and there was a balance yet to beliquidated, for which, however, the attorney agreed to give time. Now,suppose that he gave Mr. Needy, the indefatigable junior counsel, in all25_l._ (which is far over the mark), and that Mr. Silkyarn, the eminentleader, got in all 75_l._ (which is a vast exaggeration), allow 50_l._for the slight further costs out of pocket, and it will be seen that theattorney made a handsome profit. But there was yet a balance to besettled.
The days previous to trial were days of anxiety to the smuggler and hiswife. Their intensity, of course, increased as they approached the grandordeal. At last the day arrived on which, for the fourth time in hislife, Tommy Johnson was placed on his trial for smuggling in the AssizeCourt at Winchester.
Again, to the surprise of his own attorney and counsel, he wasacquitted.
The explanation of this miscarriage of justice is easily found. Thearrest of Johnson caused a sensation through the entire county of Hants.He was, as I have said, a jovial man, and a kind-hearted fellow, in hisway. Rumour spread the story of his dashing adventures far andwide--exaggerating and intensifying their commonplace into wild romance.This alone fascinated the public mind. But again, rumour having takenTommy Johnson under her protection, just as she wantonly injures so manyothers, she made the very most she could of his merits. Every single actof kindness he had ever performed was magnified a hundredfold, and thecommon smuggler became a hero. I verily believe that Tommy Johnson couldhave got a hundred acquittals, at as many consecutive assizes. I don'tbelieve that a jury could be found to pronounce that awful word guiltyto an indictment preferred by the Crown against him.
Tommy Johnson, after his acquittal, returned home, in a condition whichan original mind has described as that of a wiser, sadder, and poorerman than he was prior to the last run. He, however, laudably determinednot to make another adventure. He would not seek, through new perils, toretrieve his loss. Without any claims to the character of poet himself,he drew philosophy from Hamlet, and resolved to bear the ills he hadrather than fly to others which, his lawyers told him, he could notfathom the depths of. He would stick t
o the safe pursuit of fortune onland, and not tempt the perils of the deep in the way he had done. Inone of his soliloquies on this point he observed that he had made moneyat it, but he was afraid that he had used up his luck. He couldn't standthose long imprisonments, and he couldn't always go on droppingthousands into the hands of the coast-guard and the lawyers. On thewhole, he was decidedly of opinion that smuggling was objectionable, onmany grounds, and for various reasons; so he did in fact at last resolveto give it up--and he kept that promise.
Mr. Johnson, in less than a fortnight (being so anxious, as he said, toget the affair off his mind) wrote to his attorney to ascertain theexact balance due to that able and worthy man. The lawyer answered by anote, which led Mr. Johnson to call at his office with about 150_l._ inhis pocket.
"Well, Mr. Johnson," observed the attorney, stretching out his handswith frigid cordiality, "sit down. I am glad to see you, Mr. Johnson;very glad indeed. I never thought I should have succeeded in getting youoff the last time. You owe a great deal to me and to your excellentcounsel, Mr. Needy and Mr. Silkyarn."
"Oh, yes; I'm much obliged, sir, I assure you," Johnson interposed, withthe hope of abbreviating the homily.
"Of course," continued the lawyer, "I am bound to do the best I can formy client who is in a difficulty. I am glad that I did succeed ingetting you off; but prevention is better than cure, you know, Mr.Johnson."
"Of course," exclaimed the impatient client.
"And," the attorney went on to say, "let me give you a bit of soundadvice gratis--moral and religious advice, as well as legal--Mr.Johnson. Let me assure you, that although I dare say you think there isno harm in it, it is as wicked to plunder the revenue as it is to rob aprivate individual."
"I can't see it in that light," said the unconvicted smuggler.
"It is so, upon my honour," replied the attorney. "Think over what I nowsay. Reflect upon the matter, Mr. Johnson, and you'll see I'm right."
"Well, that's an affair for to-morrow. Let me see, what did you say yourbalance was, sir?"
"Oh, ah! Well, I said I'd take a hundred guineas in finalsettlement--that is, a hundred and five pounds, Mr. Johnson."
Johnson counted the money in notes, and handed it to the attorney, wholaid it on his table.
A moment's silence followed.
It was broken by the attorney, who did not quite understand the look ofthe client; and as he feared that Mr. Johnson might be thinking thecosts excessive, Mr. Swelling turned the theme.
"Now, I hope the next time you retain my services, they will be neededfor some different purpose. I should like to see you make money, andinvest it in land or houses, and let me prepare the deeds."
"Yes, sir, you shall, when I can get the money to buy the land andhouses."
"Well, till then good by, Mr. Johnson," said the attorney, rising to bowout his client.
"You forgot, sir, I think, to give me a receipt; and I don't think Iever had any for the money I paid you in the prison?"
"Oh, very well, Mr. Johnson. Certainly you can have a duly-stampedreceipt, if you please; but I hope you don't suppose that I want tocheat you? I should not like to think you reward my anxious services onyour behalf by entertaining such an unjust suspicion of me as that?"
"No, sir. Oh, no. Nothing of that sort. Only, as you were a-saying thatit's as wrong to rob the revenue as it is a private individual, Ithought (although I don't see things quite in that light) that you oughtto give me one."
The attorney's moral philosophy cost him 7_s._ 6_d._
He bit his lip, and sat down; and as penny receipts had not beeninvented, he wrote on a stamp of the above value a receipt for all themoney paid him by the smuggler, who rather enjoyed the joke he hadplayed off on his legal adviser.