If the Bleak House hint is any clue, the verdict may never come,
the trial will go on until no-one can remember why it's happening ...
(a bit like Brexit)
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Rebecca and The Bloody Codes
- Thread starter Praefectus Praetorio
- Start date
If the Bleak House hint is any clue, the verdict may never come,
the trial will go on until no-one can remember why it's happening ...
(a bit like Brexit)
Migoz2
Senator
And then, when it is finally resolved, there is not a penny left......
very like Brexit
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Although I humbly confess to never reading Bleak House (Ten Our Fathers and Eight Hail Marys, and a dozen flagellations on your wicked back, boy!) Since my father was a lawyer, I was acquainted at an early age with "Jarndyce v Jarndyce". Here is the Court of Chancery in Rebecca's time.
I'm afraid justice in "Rebecca" will be swift, far swifter. Swift as a hangman's drop. We can still hope that the girl is turned up, or, at the least, let off just being school buttered.
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F...ing Whigs in wigs!!!
The Beast
Governor
Don't suggest something like that, malicious woman.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Chapter 9 Rebecca faces the Judges
Even with the unconventional open wall in front, the courtroom awed the simple country girl. Dozens of officials, lawyers, barristers, clerks and assorted hangers-on occupied the forty by fifty-foot room. Against the back wall was the raised bench with the head judge in the center, looking cross, wearing a shoulder length white wig and rich scarlet robes, trimmed with fur. He was flanked by two junior justices and several clerks. Before the bench stood two burly tipstaffs with their crowned staffs of office. Crowding tables before the bench were men in wigs of various lengths, shuffling mountains of paper. At the rear was a raised kind of pulpit with pointed iron stakes on the ledge and steps at the back, the prisoner’s dock. Mr. Todd instructed Rebecca to ascend. Cuffed and shackled, she did so with great difficulty even with him gently aiding.
A clerk on the front bench rose and called for silence. Surprisingly, the mild voiced clerk achieved almost total silence instantly, aided, no doubt, by the stern looks of the tipstaffs.
The clerk then recited, by rote, his introduction:
"At the King's Commission of the Peace, and Oyer and Terminer, &c. which begins on Thursday the 3rd of this Instant June, before the Hon. Justice Sir Francis Page, Knt., the Hon. Justice King, and the Hon. Justice Rabe."
Taking a breath, he continued
"Becky Goodwin, vagrant, is here charged and accused of the following actions against the King’s peace and subjects:
In the First Instance – imbibing from water reserved for the refreshment of equines in defiance of the Animal Protection Act of 1698.
In the Second Instance – disturbing the King's peace with loud and raucous pounding on a locked door in defiance of The Act for Promoting the King’s peace of 1565.
In the Third Instance – being a vagabond as stated in the Vagrancy Act 1713, with no fixed place of abode, no visible means of support, and no funds.
In the Fourth Instance –purloining of goods in value exceeding 12d, in defiance of The Black Act 1723.
In the Fifth Instance – plotting with a bankrupt to break and enter and steal goods belonging to creditors in defiance of The Black Act 1723."
Rebecca understood little of the complex jargon except to realize she was being charged with several serious crimes.
Even with the unconventional open wall in front, the courtroom awed the simple country girl. Dozens of officials, lawyers, barristers, clerks and assorted hangers-on occupied the forty by fifty-foot room. Against the back wall was the raised bench with the head judge in the center, looking cross, wearing a shoulder length white wig and rich scarlet robes, trimmed with fur. He was flanked by two junior justices and several clerks. Before the bench stood two burly tipstaffs with their crowned staffs of office. Crowding tables before the bench were men in wigs of various lengths, shuffling mountains of paper. At the rear was a raised kind of pulpit with pointed iron stakes on the ledge and steps at the back, the prisoner’s dock. Mr. Todd instructed Rebecca to ascend. Cuffed and shackled, she did so with great difficulty even with him gently aiding.
A clerk on the front bench rose and called for silence. Surprisingly, the mild voiced clerk achieved almost total silence instantly, aided, no doubt, by the stern looks of the tipstaffs.
The clerk then recited, by rote, his introduction:
"At the King's Commission of the Peace, and Oyer and Terminer, &c. which begins on Thursday the 3rd of this Instant June, before the Hon. Justice Sir Francis Page, Knt., the Hon. Justice King, and the Hon. Justice Rabe."
Taking a breath, he continued
"Becky Goodwin, vagrant, is here charged and accused of the following actions against the King’s peace and subjects:
In the First Instance – imbibing from water reserved for the refreshment of equines in defiance of the Animal Protection Act of 1698.
In the Second Instance – disturbing the King's peace with loud and raucous pounding on a locked door in defiance of The Act for Promoting the King’s peace of 1565.
In the Third Instance – being a vagabond as stated in the Vagrancy Act 1713, with no fixed place of abode, no visible means of support, and no funds.
In the Fourth Instance –purloining of goods in value exceeding 12d, in defiance of The Black Act 1723.
In the Fifth Instance – plotting with a bankrupt to break and enter and steal goods belonging to creditors in defiance of The Black Act 1723."
Rebecca understood little of the complex jargon except to realize she was being charged with several serious crimes.
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Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Depiction of trial scene in the Old Bailey from the early 18th century
Judges' bench to the left, jury in center back, defendant in dock on right. Note that the artist shows light streaming from the right, where, out of sight, is the open air wall to the courtyard.
Ceremonial Tipstaff
Judges' bench to the left, jury in center back, defendant in dock on right. Note that the artist shows light streaming from the right, where, out of sight, is the open air wall to the courtyard.
Ceremonial Tipstaff
Good thing there wasn’t a sixth instance. The punishment for five is probably going to be bad enough.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
As long as she has a fair trial and a merciful judge. She can't ask for Moore.Good thing there wasn’t a sixth instance. The punishment for five is probably going to be bad enough.
Migoz2
Senator
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
There will be a tangential reference to Oliver's trial in the next chapter.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Chapter 10 A Fair Hearing
As the junior on the bench that day, Justice Rabe stirred himself and cleared his throat. The eight large swigs of brandy he’d consumed since the session had started three hours ago were making it hard for him to concentrate.
Asking in a low mumble, his voice very slurred, “How pleads the defendant?”
Rebecca just stood and stared. She hadn’t understood the judge’s words.
During his time with the pretty country girl, watchman Todd have begun to feel some sympathy and even affection for her. Now he could see that her confusion and exhaustion would prevent her from responding. And unresponsiveness would be swiftly met with blows from the tipstaffs. He had seen ignorant, unresponsive prisoners beaten to their knees by sadistic bailiffs.
He climbed into the dock and whispered to Rebecca, “I’ll answer for you.”
“She pleads, not guilty, your Lordships.”
“Plea entered and accepted.” Said Justice Rabe.
“It seems this scum from the gutters wants to make this hard on us,” said Justice King. He was foul-tempered and always hated defendants and especially those who plead not guilty and forced him to do some work. Truth be told, his appointment to the bench was based on political connections, not competence. He had read for the law in Middle Temple for a couple of months, but had been dismissed by the lawyers as being totally incapable of learning the law. Fortunately, he had a good clerk who spoon-fed him information. Reading from his clerk’s notes,
“We have here the sworn affidavits from multiple witnesses, all good men and true of property.”
Justice Rabe stirred from his stupor “as well as the confession of vagrancy the defendant gave to the watch house keeper last night.”
“I must say, this matter should not keep us long since the girl’s guilt is well established.” Said Justice King.
“Indeed it is,” chimed in Justice Rabe, only slightly more intelligible than before. “What evidence does the young blowse present in her defense?”
Mr. Todd spoke to Rebecca. She had no idea what any of this meant and no concept of how to present a defense. She could only cry and plead to the watchman that she was sorry.
“The defendant has no evidence to present. She does wish to express sorrow. Go ahead girl. Tell the judges you are sorry.”
“Please, please, my Lords. I’m so sorry. I’m just a poor girl from Kent. I meant no harm!”
“Sorrow? From Kent? She meant no harm?” sneered Justice King, “You insult us, dirty wench, expressing sorrow after wasting our time by pleading not guilty.”
“Hear, hear” agreed Justice Rabe.
“You are from Kent. Why didn’t you stay there in the filth rather than coming to London to rob good people of their property and to spread crime throughout of town?”
“Right,” said Justice Rabe. “She came here for crime!”
“You meant no harm? Five instances of breaking the King’s laws and the King’s peace? No Harm? That’s a laugh! A vagrant with no means of support? We all know what that means you live by robbing good citizens and by whoring!”
Sir Justice Page spoke for the first time. “Do we then then agree that the case has been fairly heard, my Lords?”
Both others nodded yes.
“There is no need to empanel a jury in this case?” asked the Head Justice.
“Damn right. The bitch didn’t even deign to answer our questions, let the watchman do it. No defense, no need to confuse a jury.” said Justice Rabe.
“The slut’s wasted enough of the valuable time of this honourable court,” added Justice King.
As the junior on the bench that day, Justice Rabe stirred himself and cleared his throat. The eight large swigs of brandy he’d consumed since the session had started three hours ago were making it hard for him to concentrate.
Asking in a low mumble, his voice very slurred, “How pleads the defendant?”
Rebecca just stood and stared. She hadn’t understood the judge’s words.
During his time with the pretty country girl, watchman Todd have begun to feel some sympathy and even affection for her. Now he could see that her confusion and exhaustion would prevent her from responding. And unresponsiveness would be swiftly met with blows from the tipstaffs. He had seen ignorant, unresponsive prisoners beaten to their knees by sadistic bailiffs.
He climbed into the dock and whispered to Rebecca, “I’ll answer for you.”
“She pleads, not guilty, your Lordships.”
“Plea entered and accepted.” Said Justice Rabe.
“It seems this scum from the gutters wants to make this hard on us,” said Justice King. He was foul-tempered and always hated defendants and especially those who plead not guilty and forced him to do some work. Truth be told, his appointment to the bench was based on political connections, not competence. He had read for the law in Middle Temple for a couple of months, but had been dismissed by the lawyers as being totally incapable of learning the law. Fortunately, he had a good clerk who spoon-fed him information. Reading from his clerk’s notes,
“We have here the sworn affidavits from multiple witnesses, all good men and true of property.”
Justice Rabe stirred from his stupor “as well as the confession of vagrancy the defendant gave to the watch house keeper last night.”
“I must say, this matter should not keep us long since the girl’s guilt is well established.” Said Justice King.
“Indeed it is,” chimed in Justice Rabe, only slightly more intelligible than before. “What evidence does the young blowse present in her defense?”
Mr. Todd spoke to Rebecca. She had no idea what any of this meant and no concept of how to present a defense. She could only cry and plead to the watchman that she was sorry.
“The defendant has no evidence to present. She does wish to express sorrow. Go ahead girl. Tell the judges you are sorry.”
“Please, please, my Lords. I’m so sorry. I’m just a poor girl from Kent. I meant no harm!”
“Sorrow? From Kent? She meant no harm?” sneered Justice King, “You insult us, dirty wench, expressing sorrow after wasting our time by pleading not guilty.”
“Hear, hear” agreed Justice Rabe.
“You are from Kent. Why didn’t you stay there in the filth rather than coming to London to rob good people of their property and to spread crime throughout of town?”
“Right,” said Justice Rabe. “She came here for crime!”
“You meant no harm? Five instances of breaking the King’s laws and the King’s peace? No Harm? That’s a laugh! A vagrant with no means of support? We all know what that means you live by robbing good citizens and by whoring!”
Sir Justice Page spoke for the first time. “Do we then then agree that the case has been fairly heard, my Lords?”
Both others nodded yes.
“There is no need to empanel a jury in this case?” asked the Head Justice.
“Damn right. The bitch didn’t even deign to answer our questions, let the watchman do it. No defense, no need to confuse a jury.” said Justice Rabe.
“The slut’s wasted enough of the valuable time of this honourable court,” added Justice King.
twonines
LIMERICUS
And probably never will!Some things never change ...
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Slang:
Blowse - a slattern, a wench
I Guess it's lucky for Rebecca that she got nice fair judges, highly alert:
And a brilliant defence counsel
and not Lord Chief Justice George Jeffreys
famous for “The Bloody Assizes” of 1685
Blowse - a slattern, a wench
I Guess it's lucky for Rebecca that she got nice fair judges, highly alert:
And a brilliant defence counsel
and not Lord Chief Justice George Jeffreys
famous for “The Bloody Assizes” of 1685
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Harsh Martinet
Consul
Severity AND consideration!
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Chapter 11 Verdict and Sentence
Justice Page had been closely examining Rebecca during the short trial. She was indeed, as Sir Elliott had said, “a tender piece of lamb.” Petite, not over 5 feet and thin, though with a full bosom and promising swell of hips, Rebecca had a pretty young face with upturned nose dusted with freckles. Her wavy hair of dark auburn complemented her fair skin. She looked younger than her bare 18 years. She was dirty, but that was easily remedied. Yes, he thought, she would be an enjoyable and money-making property.
“Becky Goodwin, this court finds you guilty of five felonies against the lawful and merciful laws of this Kingdom. While this honourable court always wishes to show mercy,” he looked at the two other justices who smugly nodded agreement and smiled, “Your defiance of this court in pleading not guilty without any defense, and the violations of multiple capital crimes, indicates your utter depravity and unregenerate criminality. This leaves us no choice but to impose a sentence severe enough to safeguard the King’s subjects from habitual outlaws such as you.”
“Please,” said Rebecca in a small, soft voice.
“Becky Goodwin, receive the judgment of this court:”
“First, for the crime of stealing horses’ water, you are fined 2 pounds and sentenced to five strokes of the lash.”
Rebecca gave a little high-pitched cry. A fine? She had no money. And a lashing!
“Second, for the crime of vagrancy, you will be punished as the law allows by a whipping of up to twenty-five strokes as your goaler determines you can stand, and by a branding on your chest with the Letter ‘V.’”
A branding! With a hot iron? The pain! Rebecca almost swooned in horror.
“Third, for theft and intended theft, you are to be branded on your chest with the letter “T.””
“No,” Rebecca whispered in fear. Her tender breasts were to be burned horribly.
Justice Page reached into his desk and took out a black cloth square which he placed on top of his wig.
“Fourth, for your several violations of crimes punishable under the newly and wisely enacted Black Act, this court finds you, in the terms of that Act, a hardened criminal, without benefit of clergy, and orders that you be taken to the place of execution at Tyburn, where you shall be hung by the neck until you are dead. May God have mercy on your soul.”
Rebecca understood this last only too well and gave a scream of horror.
“The court orders the defendant to be delivered to the custody of the keeper of Ramsey Prison House to be held as he determines. Full authority for prison punishments to maintain discipline is granted without recourse to the courts. The sentence of execution to be completed no later than two weeks from today,” he consulted his clerk. “By Thursday June 17th in the year of our Lord, 1723.”
Page pounded his gavel. “Case closed.” Rebecca collapsed in a dead faint.
Justice Page had been closely examining Rebecca during the short trial. She was indeed, as Sir Elliott had said, “a tender piece of lamb.” Petite, not over 5 feet and thin, though with a full bosom and promising swell of hips, Rebecca had a pretty young face with upturned nose dusted with freckles. Her wavy hair of dark auburn complemented her fair skin. She looked younger than her bare 18 years. She was dirty, but that was easily remedied. Yes, he thought, she would be an enjoyable and money-making property.
“Becky Goodwin, this court finds you guilty of five felonies against the lawful and merciful laws of this Kingdom. While this honourable court always wishes to show mercy,” he looked at the two other justices who smugly nodded agreement and smiled, “Your defiance of this court in pleading not guilty without any defense, and the violations of multiple capital crimes, indicates your utter depravity and unregenerate criminality. This leaves us no choice but to impose a sentence severe enough to safeguard the King’s subjects from habitual outlaws such as you.”
“Please,” said Rebecca in a small, soft voice.
“Becky Goodwin, receive the judgment of this court:”
“First, for the crime of stealing horses’ water, you are fined 2 pounds and sentenced to five strokes of the lash.”
Rebecca gave a little high-pitched cry. A fine? She had no money. And a lashing!
“Second, for the crime of vagrancy, you will be punished as the law allows by a whipping of up to twenty-five strokes as your goaler determines you can stand, and by a branding on your chest with the Letter ‘V.’”
A branding! With a hot iron? The pain! Rebecca almost swooned in horror.
“Third, for theft and intended theft, you are to be branded on your chest with the letter “T.””
“No,” Rebecca whispered in fear. Her tender breasts were to be burned horribly.
Justice Page reached into his desk and took out a black cloth square which he placed on top of his wig.
“Fourth, for your several violations of crimes punishable under the newly and wisely enacted Black Act, this court finds you, in the terms of that Act, a hardened criminal, without benefit of clergy, and orders that you be taken to the place of execution at Tyburn, where you shall be hung by the neck until you are dead. May God have mercy on your soul.”
Rebecca understood this last only too well and gave a scream of horror.
“The court orders the defendant to be delivered to the custody of the keeper of Ramsey Prison House to be held as he determines. Full authority for prison punishments to maintain discipline is granted without recourse to the courts. The sentence of execution to be completed no later than two weeks from today,” he consulted his clerk. “By Thursday June 17th in the year of our Lord, 1723.”
Page pounded his gavel. “Case closed.” Rebecca collapsed in a dead faint.