It was just when I had finished writing the story of Elfrida that I happened to see in my morning paper a highly eulogistical paragraph about one of our long-dead and, I imagine, forgotten worthies. The occasion of the paragraph doesn't matter. The man eulogised was Mr. Justice Park—Sir James Allan Park, a highly successful barrister, who was judge from 1816 to his death in 1838. "As judge, though not eminent, he was sound, fair and sensible, a little irascible, but highly esteemed." He was also the author of a religious work. And that is all the particular Liar who wrote his biography in the D.N.B. can tell us about him.

It was the newspaper paragraph which reminded me that I had written about this same judge, giving my estimate of his character in my book, A Shepherd's Life, also that I was thinking about Park, the sound and fair and sensible judge, when I wrote "An Old Thorn." Here then, with apologies to the reader for quoting from my own book, I reproduce what I wrote in 1905.

"From these memories of the old villagers I turn to the newspapers of the day to make a few citations.

"The law as it was did not distinguish between a case of the kind just related, of the starving, sorely-tempted Shergold, and that of the systematic thief: sheep-stealing was a capital offence and the man must be hanged, unless recommended to mercy, and we know what was meant by 'mercy' in those days. That so barbarous a law existed within memory of people to be found living in most villages appears almost incredible to us; but despite the recommendations to 'mercy' usual in a large majority of cases, the law of that time was not more horrible than the temper of the men who administered it. There are good and bad among all, and in all professions, but there is also a black spot in most, possibly all hearts, which may be developed to almost any extent, to change the justest, wisest, most moral men into 'human devils.' In reading the old reports and the expressions used by the judges in their summings-up and sentences, it is impossible not to believe that the awful power they possessed, and its constant exercise, had not only produced the inevitable hardening effect, but had made them cruel in the true sense of the word. Their pleasure in passing dreadful sentences was very thinly disguised by certain lofty conventional phrases as to the necessity of upholding the law, morality, and religion; they were, indeed, as familiar with the name of the Deity as any ranter in a conventicle, and the 'enormity of the crime' was an expression as constantly used in the case of the theft of a loaf of bread, or of an old coat left hanging on a hedge, by some ill-clad, half-starved wretch, as in cases of burglary, arson, rape, and murder.

"It is surprising to find how very few the real crimes were in those days, despite the misery of the people; that nearly all the 'crimes' for which men were sentenced to the gallows and to transportation for life, or for long terms, were offences which would now be sufficiently punished by a few weeks', or even a few days', imprisonment. Thus in April, 1825, I note that Mr. Justice Park commented on the heavy appearance of the calendar. It was not so much the number (170) of the offenders that excited his concern as it was the nature of the crimes with which they were charged. The worst crime in this instance was sheep-stealing!

"Again, this same Mr. Justice Park, at the Spring Assizes at Salisbury, 1827, said that though the calendar was a heavy one, he was happy to find, on looking at the depositions of the principal cases, that they were not of a very serious character. Nevertheless he passed sentence of death on twenty-eight persons, among them being one for stealing half a crown!

"Of the twenty-eight all but three were eventually reprieved, one of the fated three being a youth of 19, who was charged with stealing a mare and pleaded guilty in spite of a warning from the judge not to do so. This irritated the great man who had the power of life and death in his hand. In passing sentence the judge 'expatiated on the prevalence of the crime of horse-stealing and the necessity of making an example. The enormity of Read's crime rendered him a proper example, and he would therefore hold out no hope of mercy towards him.' As to the plea of guilty, he remarked that nowadays too many persons pleaded guilty, deluded with the hope that it would be taken into consideration and they would escape the severer penalty. He was determined to put a stop to that sort of thing; if Read had not pleaded guilty no doubt some extenuating circumstance would have come up during the trial and he would have saved his life.

"There, if ever, spoke the 'human devil' in a black cap!

"I find another case of a sentence of transportation for life on a youth of 18, named Edward Baker, for stealing a pocket-handkerchief. Had he pleaded guilty it might have been worse for him.

"At the Salisbury Spring Assizes, 1830, Mr. Justice Gazalee, addressing the grand jury, said that none of the crimes appeared to be marked with circumstances of great moral turpitude. The prisoners numbered 130; he passed sentences of death on twenty-nine, life transportations on five, fourteen years on five, seven years on eleven, and various terms of hard labour on the others." (A Shepherd's Life, pp. 241-4.)

Johnnie Budd was done to death before my principal informants, one 89 years old, the other 93, were born; but in their early years they knew the widow and her three children, and had known them and their children all their lives; thus the whole story of Johnnie and Marty was familiar to them. Now, when I thought of Johnnie's case and how he was treated at the trial, as it was told me by these old people, it struck me as so like that of the poor young man Read, who was hanged because he pleaded guilty, that I at once came to the belief that it was Mr. Justice Park who had tried him. I have accordingly searched the newspapers of that day, but have failed to find Johnnie's case. I can only suppose that this particular case was probably considered too unimportant to be reported at large in the newspapers of 1821. He was just one of a number convicted and sentenced to capital punishment.

When Johnnie was hanged his poor wife travelled to Salisbury and succeeded in getting permission to take the body back to the village for burial. How she in her poverty, with her three little children to keep, managed it I don't know. Probably some of the other poor villagers who pitied and perhaps loved her helped her to do it. She did even more: she had a grave-stone set above him with his name and the dates of his birth and death cut on it. And there it is now, within a dozen yards of the church door in the small old churchyard—the smallest village churchyard known to me; and Johnnie's and Marty's children's children are still living in the village.

FINIS



* * * * *



THE WORKS OF W. H. HUDSON



BIRDS OF LA PLATA

With 22 Coloured Plates by H. Gronvold, specially drawn under the Author's supervision.

This book contains articles on some 200 birds of La Plata actually known to the Author, arranged under species, and characterised by that intimate personal touch which constitutes the chief charm of his writing. Originally published in 1888 under the title Argentine Ornithology, in collaboration with Philip Lutley Sclater, it has now been thoroughly revised by Mr. Hudson, who has deleted all except his own work, and has written a new Introduction of considerable length.

The coloured plates of this new book have been done by Mr. H. Gronvold, under the most careful supervision of the Author, whose intimate knowledge of the birds in their life and true environment has helped the artist to give a vivid and faithful presentment of the different species.

The illustrations constitute an integral part of the book itself, and are not mere decorative additions. This book now forms a companion volume to another work of Mr. Hudson's, The Naturalist in La Plata.



A COMPANION VOLUME

THE NATURALIST IN LA PLATA

The Naturalist in La Plata can now be obtained in a new and cheaper edition than the original, which was first published in 1892. The letterpress and the drawings in the text by J. Smit have been left as they were; the only change is in the form of the book and in the substitution of new plates for the old ones. This book forms a companion volume to Birds of La Plata.



FAR AWAY AND LONG AGO

An Autobiographical Sketch of the Writer's Boyhood

"To read his book is to read another chapter in that enormous book which is written from time to time by Rousseau and George Sand and Aksakoff among other people—a book which we can never read enough of; and therefore we must beg Mr. Hudson not to stop here, but to carry the story on to the farthest possible limits."—Times Literary Supplement.

"A low-pitched narrative, but once listened to it is as enthralling as Mr. Hudson found the voice of the golden plover."—Athenaeum.

"He who does not know the work of W. H. Hudson is missing one of the finest pleasures of contemporary literature."—Daily News.

"Regarding the author hitherto primarily as a naturalist we rediscover him as an acute psychologist.... For many readers the chief interest of the book will lie in the charming reflective presentment of the thoughts of a boy's mind."—Bookman.



BIRDS IN TOWN AND VILLAGE

With 8 Coloured Plates after E. J. Detmold

Head and Tail Pieces by Herbert Cole

"Mr. Hudson loves all birds; they are his work, his recreation, his life; he writes about them as no one else can: he sees what others miss."—Manchester Guardian.

"This book is full of his unsurpassed perception and unique charm.... Some of his best passages about birds are equally delightful and vivid sketches of human life."—Times Literary Supplement.

"Mr. Hudson is more than a naturalist. He is a man of genius who transmutes lead into gold—the lead of knowledge into the gold of feeling.... As you hear the music of his prose ... you recapture the delicious tenderness of childhood with its wistful wonder and vision.... Mr. Hudson is a nightingale naturalist with a voice that throbs in waves of magical melody."

—James Douglas in The Star.

THE END